#i really like the finger pads in the wings for some reason i think its a nice detail
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i am so tired of seeing an immediate wave of complaints every time an ancient comes out can you guys chill for two seconds
#this does NOT include the auraboa lore issue that shit sucked#dusthides are fun!! i like the poses. i wish their heads were different. i like the m pose's foot resting on its shell thing#< both my hatches were male so im more familiar with that pose rn#i really like the finger pads in the wings for some reason i think its a nice detail#overall i think theyre pretty cute. i think its weird staff didnt just postpone their release#with the lore issue thing and such. i didnt even know there was gonna be a new ancient soon until the loreless announcement#anyways. i dont like how intense the disappointed people are on my dash rn. im seeing both positive and negative reactions which is expected#but i really wasnt ready for how Mad people seem. off-putting.#i would also like to please for the love of god have a fat breed. thats the main criticism im seeing. but goddamn you are putting your whole#hearts into this shit right off the bat huh#posts
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Yandere V + H: Shaiapouf
This ant is born to be a henchman in every universe
Though one would not be wrong when questioning how often he feels the need to direct the villain he’s serving’s attention
Always willing to give up any part of himself for his precious villain to succeed
Ride or die they’re glory is everything to him
But only if that glory includes him
He’s a tad selfish but for all the right reasons
It’s for you of course
When you rise from the ashes of his former creator to take on the role of an innovator
You’re all he can ask for
No longer tied by his biological connection or maybe just an overcomplicated pheromone mishap
He devotes himself to the legacy you’ve restarted making his uncalled-for connections to his old villain
But it’s the differences he does notice that lead him to be…so involved:
“Shiapouf make a note. Clearly, the titanium-devastating robot taught them nothing about better infrastructure.”
“Yes, my liege!”
He admired your back which was beautifully annunciated by the elegant cape on your back. Pouf proudly squeezed at the bandaged tips of his fingers as he recalled personally sewing the insignia of your villain name onto its center.
Turning before you he opened the door of the invisible jet for you, bowing as you entered the back seat. Closing the door he sent one more hidden glare at the construction crew working in the rubble of the old sky-scraper. In his deepest of hearts, he almost wished they wouldn’t try, shaking his head in punishment. You wanted this, therefore this was right. Entering through the door, he harshly yelled at the door of the cockpit,” Go.”
That was all that was needed for the jet to silently left the city, cruising above national waters in seconds. Pouf had located himself directly across from you watching in admiration and amusement as you twisted and tilted your face as you scrolled through articles on your digital pad.
“Once again this proves to be ineffectual in making them evolve. This wasn’t a big enough sign for them to even consider using that material they discovered that could be made with the remains of that overgrowing landfill. “
Pouf resisted the urge to clutch his cheeks,” My liege, you’re so generous to these low-lifes.”
You let out a muted ‘thanks’ before closing your eyes in thought. Millions of images from various politicians and inventors calling for reform or change. None of them are worthy enough or even supported enough to be considered significant change. It started to make you wonder…
“Perhaps…this isn’t the right thing to do.”
Pouf’s smile was gone. A serious expression on his face as he asked, ”What do you mean your Grace?”
Sighing you looked out the window,” My whole goal is to help the humans of this world evolve but I worry all I’m doing is just killing the masses for no reason.”
If the cabin of the jet wasn’t cool, it was freezing because of Pouf’s glare.
“Who says this?”
“What do you mean I am—”
“Who said this.”
The question that didn’t need to be said brought a familiar pit in your stomach. Fidgeting with your fingerless gloves and then your raised collar that felt like it was making you hot. Pouf’s darkened tuscan-yellow eyes were filled with the retained fury of a protector. One that you found much more frightening than the hero you escaped from every time.
“A journalist from the Hunter’s Post. She just made some really good–”
“Name?”
“Pouf I don’t want to punish anyone–”
“Name, (Y/n).”
“Ponzu….her name was Ponzu.”
“Thank you (Y/n)--”
“Please Pouf I don’t want anything—”
Pouf smiled widely, “I think you should rest, my Liege!”
You opened your mouth to protest, actually getting up from the seat you were in to plead. Finding you’re body refused to listen as you finally registered the shimmering colors and grand wideness of Shaiapouf’s wings. You didn’t need to see the sparkling particles to know what was happening, vaguely recalling this same scene playing out just a few days ago.
“Sleep peacefully, my (Y/n). I’ll deal with the parasite that’s poisoned you.”
Pouf smiled at your slumped figure before snapping his fingers. His joyful expression is gone now that three winged servants appeared at his side. All three bowing and awaiting his orders.
“Find the journalist Ponzu. Bring her to me alive, I will deal with her punishment personally.”
Two of the servants darted off, quickly flying out of a hatch that allowed them to leave without letting too much of the wind inside. The remaining servant stood still awaiting orders.
“Idiot. Get our Great One a blanket, can’t you see they’re needing one.”
The servant bowed their head swiftly heading to the back of the jet. Giving Pouf the privacy he desired to stand from his own seat and kneel before yours. Looking up at your sleeping face, he couldn’t deny himself the urge to caress your sleeping face.
“Don’t worry. I will always fight for your glorious mission. Even if you forget.”
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yanderexrea#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere#yanderes#yandere shaiapouf x reader#yandere shaiapouf#yandere chimera ant#yandere v + h dynamic#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere hunterxhunter#yandere hunter x hunter x reader#yandere hxh#male yandere x reader#yandere hxh x reader#yandere henchman#yandere x gn reader#yandere x gender neutral reader
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Hc: tootie’s actual name is trootie, but she couldn’t pronounce it years ago and it stuck with her
That's similar to my headcanon. I gave her the spelling Trudy, although "Tootie" was used as a nickname (like Tootsie Roll).
I did a search to see if it comes up in my files, and here's a scene I wrote in 2020 that makes me laugh (ft. aged-up Tootie now using her birth name):
Molly looked curiously at Trudy, tapping a finger against her lip. “Didn’t she move to some small country in Europe with her boyfriend or something?” “Husband, actually. She’s really the queen of this micronation they rule together.” Trudy’s eyes turned misty behind her glasses. “I wonder how she’s doing right now.” Since Tootie asked a valid question, we may as well pause our brunch date for a moment and take a brief trip one million million miles away from planet Earth. At that precise moment, Queen Victoria could be found sprawled across her royal mattress (which was, of course, stuffed with wads of cash for extra padding) in her second-favorite set of skull and crossbone pajamas, snoring half-contently. Each of her arms hugged a fat sack of coins with a ridiculously elaborate Yugopotamian money symbol printed on its front in blue. The covers tangled around her legs in a cyclone, which was the only reason she hadn’t completely rolled off the bed to the floor. Rolled off the side, it’s possibly worth mentioning, that her husband normally tried to claim for himself whenever he spied enough room to place a tentacle. As for her husband? King Marqavalier had just made the mistake of attempting to hold his wife’s pale human hand in her sleep. The death-defying trial proved successful on occasion, but that night turned out not to be tonight. He was now rinsing himself down furiously in the royal bedroom’s private muckpool wing, mumbling a variety of incoherent curses he’d picked up during his time on Earth, even though he wasn’t certain what they meant and happened to be using every single one in all the wrong ways. Back in their bedroom, Vicky murmured in her dreams and rolled over to cuddle with a third bag of taxes she had personally collected from the royal manure connoisseur earlier that day.
Along the Cherry Lane
Tootie growing up to live a relaxed life because her sister is in a loving relationship with an alien who adores her and she gets to rule over a bunch of people who are super into her way of threatening them with axes, my beloved...
Actually, do you think Mark gets huffy when Vicky threatens their subjects with weapons? We know driving a spear into the tentacle is a courtship signal for Yugopotamians and I feel like he probably had to have some talks with her about why she can't just attack people.
Vicky at a royal banquet: /throws an axe at the butler Mark: I'm being cheated on
Of course, the beauty of their relationship being that Mark spent 50+ years on Earth learning human culture, and would probably NOT interpret this as cheating and would instead interpret it as super hot the way he did when his ex almost sliced him to bits and threw him in the dungeon, but-
#Fairly OddParents#FOP#Mark Chang#Deep Toot#Red babysitter#Along the Cherry Lane#I love Mark/Vicky so much... they're so weird about each other and the fact that his flesh burns when they touch is my everything#It's the way he keeps coming back b/c he adores her despite the fact she's causing his death with her affection#It's the way Vicky took a break after finding out he was an alien and came back to him anyway... do u understand.#For all its eyebrow-raising decisions Season 9 gave us ''Vicky STILL loves Mark'' and I think about it constantly...#I forever live in the OG ''Foul Balled'' script where Mark searched 80 years for Vicky and found her in the nursing home and she adored him#Them...#Love wins#FAIRIES!#asks#ridwriting#Rotten candy apple ship tag
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Obey Me Brothers + Little Affections
AN: Keep thinking about the little things each brother would do to express affection. Some warm fluffy stuff because we all need it. Enjoy!!
The hair drying one on Lucifer’s sparked this entire thing thanks
Lucifer
- Washing and drying your hair. You know if you get your hair washed at a hairdressers and they just. Go to town with a towel drying your hair? He finds it hilarious and loves doing that. You’ll hear him chuckle, unable to see him because your face is covered by the towel. He’s softer towards the end but initially when trying to get most of the excess water his only concern is not actually hurting you. He’s also genuinely trying to help, just having a little fun with it at the same time.
- Continuing on from this, Lucifer will ruffle your hair. If it doesn’t really upset you, he loves to make a mess of it, and he grins at you, your hair sticking out every which way.
- The second his brothers aren’t around, he seems to canonically love holding your hand under the guise of keeping track of you or comforting you. Its partially true - the MC gets into trouble easily, so its good to keep a hand on them. However, the comforting affect goes both ways.
- Sharing information with you implies a close bond (or at the very least, a strong curiosity, like when he hints at where Mammon’s card is / when he talks about the album) and it means Luci cares about you a lot. He likes to talk about his interests and introduce you to things he cares a lot about. A lot of the time this comes in the form of music, because it’s something he’s able to enjoy whilst still doing his work.
- Doing origami or other paper crafts together? Really relaxes him. It’s so peacefully intimate and cosy. You sit together at his desk, work documents hidden out of sight for now, and make whatever you can out of colourful little bits of paper. He likes making flowers, although he’d never say it out loud, but he makes you countless crowns with paper flowers of all different kinds. You walk in one day when he’s taking a break from work and he’s got paper cranes lining the entire length of his desk. He calls you over and puts one on your head for absolutely no reason before acting like it never happened.
- If no one else is around and he’s feeling a bit daft, he’ll sweep you up into his arms with no warning and just hold you like that, staring directly into your eyes with a daring and loving smile on his face. This happens most when it’s late at night and all the coffee he’s had is starting to wear off and he feels a little more relaxed and open. He’ll carry you to his room to cuddle, too, if you don’t have anywhere else you need to be. Just pray none of his brothers encounter you two because he’ll set you down on your feet immediately and he won’t help you up if you fall.
[[Other Brothers under the read more]]
Mammon
- Fist bumps!!! He passes you and holds his fist out, and pouts if you don’t immediately bump your hand into his. Do the snail or turkey thing once and he falls in love with it. Lucifer, tired and stressed after a lot of work, decides for once to go along with giving him a fist bump because he’s too tired and no one else is around, and Mammon does the snail thing. The look on Luci’s face is worth everything that happened after. But when its you, Mammon just smiles and beams at you. He’s really happy.
- Sitting so close together that you can’t possibly move without disturbing the other. Sides fully pressed together even if he doesn’t have an arm around you or your hand in his. He likes the constant contact, it’s healing. So heavily invested in whatever you’re watching that the two of you simply don’t realise how close you are until the episode ends and you realise you’re leaning your full weight against him and his face is red but he’s smiling so softly you can’t bring yourself to move.
- You’ll have to start the habit, but, tackle hugs. You see him in the distance somewhere and sprint over and tackle him full force. He’ll act mad at first, especially if he trips and falls over or he’d been talking with someone else, but he holds onto you tightly and his face is beautifully flushed. After a while he’ll do it too, although he’s a lot gentler, but if you hear him call your name you need to turn around quickly and hold your arms out. He’ll lift you up into the air and twirl you around once or twice before just, going on with his day as normal. You hear his laughter as he walks away, bright and bubbly and confident, exactly as he should be.
- The absence of insults is important for Mammon. He’ll tolerate it if it’s every now and then but he’ll really notice if you’re always kind to him, he pays attention and holds tightly on to every compliment you give him. When he feels low he finds you and holds you in his arms, fingers playing with the loops in your jeans, as he recites off every nice thing you’ve said to him, hoping you’ll reaffirm them. Did you mean it when you said he was one of the most caring people you’d ever met? When you said his eyes made you feel at home?
- He likes feeding the crows with you. It’s something he does without telling anyone, but one day he takes you out along with him and the crows take a liking to you instantly. He likes how you look with his crows standing proud and confident on your arm, your hair a mess from their flapping wings as you laugh and try to get the last bits of food out from the bag.
- If you style his hair and put random accessories in it - anything from silly plastic hair clips to flowers to feathers - he’ll keep them in all day. He doesn’t care who sees because his MC spent their time doing this for him, and he’s happy to tell anyone who dares criticise him.
Leviathan
- He’s awkward with any affection at first, but he actually builds up to quick tight hugs when he’s really happy. If he’s incredibly excited - just won tickets for something, or some idol liked his comments - expect to be tackled in a hug. He gets flustered after, but if you hold tightly onto him he won’t let go immediately.
- If they even vaguely relate to his own interests, Levi will try hard to be invested in anything you really enjoy. For example, he’ll watch your favourite shows with you or try and read things you enjoy, etc.
- At the same time, Levi will share his interests with you. It’s not something he can really avoid doing as it’s ingrained in him to ramble about his special interests, but it will come in seemingly smaller forms - for example, he’ll hand you his headphones one day, blushing, and ask what you think of this song, or he’ll show you a paragraph in a TSL book that has particularly good rhythm or evokes a lot of emotion. If he lends you his books or DVDs it’s practically a proposal.
- You two have full conversations with Henry as he swims about in his tank. About silly and pointless things or very serious topics, from jokingly scolding him to venting about the future and about school and such. It warms Levi’s heart.
- Horn pats. When he’s in his demon form, pull him down to your level and pat his horns. He’s so flustered he can’t move the first few times, but one day he’ll start coming up to you and asking you if you want to do it. He likes being able to be in his demon form, and likes that you’re comfortable with him even when he doesn’t look as human.
- When he’s very comfortable with you, he likes to wrap you up in surprise hugs and laughs if you try to squirm your way out of his grip, a brilliant mischievous glow in his eyes, any self-consciousness long forgotten.
Satan
- I’ve said this before on another post but Satan likes to pet your hair and run his thumbs over your palms, pressing into them gently like he’s touching the pads on the paws of a cat. He traces circles and presses kisses into your palm and over each finger tip and knuckle, like it’s his own form of worship.
- It takes a long time to build up the confidence to do so but I can see him like. Playfully nipping at your skin if he presses light kisses against your shoulders or neck. If it makes you laugh or blush he smiles against your skin.
- If you fall asleep somewhere he’s the first person to go get a blanket to throw over you - he’d rather just let you sleep if you’re somewhere safe instead of disturbing you to lift you elsewhere, and risking waking you up. Occasionally he’ll kneel down beside you and stay there with a book until you wake up, and he’s fallen asleep like that once or twice.
- Just. Talking. Laying down together and going from topic to topic, saying whatever crosses your minds with no filters and no judgement. Letting time pass by with the comfort of the other, laying on your back in the planetarium or library or in his room, wherever there aren’t books piled up. No responsibilities except to listen to the other, and every now and then you laugh and he feels like maybe this could be home.
Asmodeus
- Sharing things, whatever it is. Food, clothes, jewellery. Taking a necklace off and putting it on him because “this would go so well with your outfit,” or holding out your fork and telling him to try some of your food, it tastes heavenly. Perfume, as well, is a must - he wants the two of you to smell the same.
- Like Mammon, he likes to have some kind of contact with you at all time - holding hands, an arm across your shoulders, anything. But the main point of contact he truly adores is if he has his hands on the skin of your stomach or back, even in the most innocent way possible. If his arms are around you and you’re comfortable with it, he’ll tuck his hands under your shirt and trace shapes against your hips, stomach, back, lower ribcage. Wherever he can. It’s something he’ll do absentmindedly without everything thinking about it, and it recharges him when he’s low on energy.
- He actually really likes working alongside you, whether it’s school work or something related to a part time job, or a potential business idea. He’s smarter than anyone would give him credit for and he loves how you look when you’re deep in thought, trying to solve something, and how your eyes light up as you figure it all out. He’s not one to just give you the answer to things, so if he knows something and you don’t he likes to hint at it like it’s a game. When you guess the answer right he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose and beams at you.
- Late night phone calls where you talk about whatever’s keeping you awake. He doesn’t mind who’s calling who, he wants to ramble or listen to you at any given moment and he’ll give up his sleep if it means you can get something that’s bothering you off your chest. Similarly, there is no greater comfort for him than getting to complain to you about something or other, something that’s genuinely bothering him and that’s stuck in his head. He feels like it only disappears when you take a hold of it for him for a little bit.
Beelzebub
- Sharing food, obviously, means a lot to him. Feed him bites of your food, give him anything you don’t want, and he’ll love it. He especially loves if you share food that’s important to you in some way, and you’ll find him giving you little bites of his food too the closer you two get. It means a lot to him when people embrace the fact that he eats so much, instead of scolding him for it or making jokes about it.
- He really likes holding hands. Your hands are so small in his and yet you trust him not to injure them as you pull him along. He feels possessive sometimes but isn’t outwardly affectionate enough to do anything about it, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. It’s the perfect thing for him.
- Stacking random things on the other. Sitting cross-legged in a park, pulling daisies out of the lawn that’s about to be mowed anyway and gently placing them into each other’s hair, on the other’s shoulders and laps. If you’re laying in his bed he’ll take random light objects off his night stand and place them on top of you. There’s no purpose and no intention, and yet it makes him smile and gives him butterflies, and he laughs if you glare jokingly up at him but let him continue.
- Run your hands through his hair, down the sides of his face, under his jaw. Anywhere. He melts in an instant, mouth slightly open as you poke his cheeks or tickle his neck and shoulders with feather light touches.
Belphegor
- Nap. On. Him. Any time, any where. Snuggle up to him, lean your head against his shoulder or bury your face into his neck or lay down on his lap and just rest. He blushes every time and it takes him a second to recover. Sometimes he’ll angle himself so he can lean against you two and he’ll fall asleep as well.
- He likes those kind of monkey hugs where you wrap your entire body around him and he can bury his face in your neck and hold on as tight as he wants. He’ll walk around like that until you get to the attic and he can throw you into his pile of pillows and blankets, and he flops down on top of you and clings onto you again, trying to hide his face because he’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
- He loves playful, back and forth banter. He’ll tease you constantly, loves if you pout at him, loves it more if you retort with something and keep it running for a while before the two of you start laughing.
- Being childish. He’ll stick out his tongue at you or pull a sudden face and he expects you to do it back immediately. If you don’t he’ll poke and tickle you, telling you how disappointed and hurt he is.
- Headbumps! But not too hard. Gently bump your head against his shoulder to get his attention and he’ll pat it. Bonus points if you nuzzle into his hands then - he’s hard to fluster but you can hear him swallow as he starts to go red. You’ll immediately have all of his attention to yourself.
- Belphie is the king of silent conversations. The tiniest gestures, nods, tilts of the head. He can pick up on all of them, knows exactly what you’re trying to say without you saying it, to the point where sometimes you won’t even realise you’re not talking aloud.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me Satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#I might do more later but this is all I can think of right now#obey me headcanons#my headcanons#my writings#queued#there are little bits of angst if you squint hard enough
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Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?
pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)
warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey
a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))
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You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.
You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.
You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.
When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.
“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.
He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.
You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.
You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.
Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.
He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.
The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.
“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”
He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.
“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,
“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.
“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.
“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.
He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.
“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.
“Bit shit,”
“How so?”
“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.
“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.
“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.
“Lightly maim then?”
“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”
“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.
“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”
“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”
“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.
“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”
“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.
“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”
“The babies?!”
“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”
“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,
“Only reasonable course of action.”
“I mean we’d be fools not to,”
“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”
“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”
He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”
You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”
“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”
“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.
“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.
“I love you.”
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The Scoundrel’s Reward
Summary: You have been captured by a terrible monster! Is your rescuer the dashing pilot he claims to be - or is he a scoundrel in disguise? Alternatively: Poe Dameron and you goof around and have some fun one night in his quarters.
Part of the "Goofballs in Love" Series of One-Shots: The Scoundrel’s Reward, Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, Flexibility (noun), Give me my sin again, Writing on the Wall
My Masterlist
Words: 3K (Read it on AO3.) [complete] Rated: Explicit Warnings: established relationship. roleplay. consensual dubious consent. bondage. mild violence against droids. oral (f receiving). PiV sex. two people being dorks in bed.
-Privacy Locks Engaged-
Poe tilted his head as he looked at the small screen outside his quarters, trying to think of a reason the locks might be enabled. He had the codes, of course. They were his quarters after all. Had he done it before he left? He was pretty sure he hadn’t.
Had something happened inside there? Someone might have set the privacy locks in order to keep people out. A leak maybe? Or a repair? But that didn’t make sense, if that had happened someone would have contacted him. And he was pretty sure there was a special code for that sort of thing anyway. The privacy locks were for situations when you didn’t want people walking in on you. Hell, if you didn’t have the door code you just got an error message. But if you had the door code…
-Privacy Locks Engaged.-
He rarely used them. Once or twice when he’d come back after a mission and needed double digit hours of uninterrupted sleep. Once when he’d been deep into studying some new X-Wing configurations and didn’t want distractions. But usually he used them when he had you over.
You.
The only other person who had access to the room’s security system was you. He raised an eyebrow. Did this mean you wanted privacy? But if that was true, you had your own quarters you could be in - rather than his. He mulled the problem over more.
Generally he used the privacy locks when you and he wanted alone time. When he didn’t want to risk some friendly pilot or whoever beeping in to halt whatever fun things the two of you were doing in bed together. He considered the possibility. Maybe you were in his room doing something fun in bed. You had intended to see each other that night - maybe you had gotten a head start waiting for him.
-Privacy Locks Disengaged.-
When the doors slid open he stepped inside quickly, reengaging the lock behind him. The room was dark, shadows dancing along the wall from a single lamp with a sheer yellow scarf tossed across it. His eyes were drawn immediately to the bed, and the form lying across it.
You were wearing a sheer white robe, one he’d never seen before. Even in the low light he thought he could make out the darker shade of your nipples peeking through. Somehow more interestingly, you were tied up. Hands bound above your head. When he entered the room your eyes met his and then you winked before your face dropped into over-the-top fear.
"Oh thank the gods, someone is here to rescue me," you called out in a comically desperate voice. He felt his lips twitch. "Please, handsome stranger, save me from this foul beast."
"Oh?" Poe asked, leaning against the door with a smirk. "And who has captured you fair maiden?"
He heard a whirring noise and saw BB-8 roll to place itself between its owner and you, one port opening and the droid’s taser snapping in the still air. The droid beeped questioningly and he heard you whisper, "Yes now."
A series of low angry whistles came from the droid. Threats of violence as BB-8 rolled toward him, taser crackling menacingly. Poe took a step back, putting a chair between himself and the 'beast'. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "a most fearsome foe indeed."
BB-8 gave a pleased little spin at that and he heard you urging the droid back into character. Taking advantage of the distraction Poe turned to the wall, finding a discarded broom and brandishing it.
"Unhand her foul beast!"
BB-8 rolled backwards in alarm and Poe tapped the droid gently with the broom. "Take that!" Another gentle tap. "And that!"
BB-8 spun in place in confusion before rolling towards Poe. Thinking fast, he jumped on top of the nearby table, crouching low and continuing to tap at the droid as it circled around him. Poe threw his boots at the droid one by one, taunting it for being unable to reach him on the table. BB-8 called out increasingly silly threats until Poe finally leapt down and pinned it with a downward thrust of the broom. He squatted quickly whispering "Thanks buddy, go back to your dock now."
BB-8 trilled happily, returning to its charging station and powering down. Poe tossed his 'sword' aside and made his way to the bed, strutting and puffing his chest out in victory.
"Oh brave man, thank you for saving me," you called out, lips parted and eyes wide in adoration.
"It was nothing," he shrugged one shoulder, brushing the arms of his flight suit off. "All in a day’s work for a Resistance pilot."
A small gasp. "A hero of the Resistance? To save me? I am so fortunate." Okay, maybe you were being a little over the top now.
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and slipping his arms under you to help you sit upright. His fingers toyed with your bound wrists as they fell between the two of you. "It is I who am fortunate," his voice lowered an octave, "to have the chance to meet such a beautiful… princess?" He raised an eyebrow in question and saw you nod before committing to the line. "A princess far beyond the reach of a scoundrel like myself."
He heard you snort and thought for a second you rolled your eyes before he saw them widen into doe-eyed innocence. "Does this scoundrel have a name?"
"You can call me Commander," he said with a smirk. Oh you definitely rolled your eyes at that.
"What can I possibly do to reward you?" you ask, lips parted and eyelashes fluttering. Your bound hands shifted, resting high on his thigh.
"Oh I’m sure we can think of something," he tilted your chin up with one hand, thumb stroking along your lip. His hand trailed down, feeling the heat of your skin through the flimsy robe until he ran one finger around your taut nipple.
"You would take advantage of me?" Your breathy question makes his lips twitch. "Please sir I am at your mercy."
"Mmm," he hummed contentedly to himself, "I see that." He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, listening to the soft inhale of air and feeling the clench of your fingers on his thighs.
"Oh I have escaped from one monster only to fall into the clutches of another!"
Poe buried his face in your neck to stop the laughter from spilling out of him, reaching down and clasping the bindings around your wrists with one hand. Using them to pull you forward until you fell into his chest. "In my clutches," he grinned to himself, "I like that."
Your head is tilted to the side, offering your neck to his mouth and he took the opportunity without further prompting. His tongue seeking the places that he knew made you groan and squirm. "Please," the breathy moan from you made blood rush down to his cock. "Please don’t…"
"Don’t?" He whispered against your skin. "Don’t what? Do this?" Teeth sank into your shoulder and he heard you whine, felt your body arch into him. He pressed one hand behind you to delve into your hair, pulling slightly and exposing more of you to him. "What is it princess? Don’t what?"
You moaned again, the sound settling into his body. "You say you don’t want this," he murmured, tongue sliding along your jaw, "but I think if I slipped my fingers between those pretty thighs of yours I’d find a different story. Should I find out?" He glided one hand down to your thigh, flipping the flimsy robe to the side to expose you. "Hmm? Are you wet for me princess?"
He didn’t wait for your response, fingers forcing between your clenched thighs and just barely tickling into the slick heat he found. "Oh yes," his teeth nipped your ear, "that’s what I thought. You want this scoundrel to touch you."
"No," your breathy denial stirred the air between the two of you and he felt himself get harder. "I don’t want this. Not with you."
"Your body says otherwise," he countered, tongue tracing your ear. Quickly, he shifted his weight, laying you back down across the bed and stretching your bound hands high over your head. You struggled, body writhing beneath his. He grunted and straddled your waist, using both hands to secure your wrists to the head of the bed. From his vantage above you he gave you a considering look, biting his lower lip.
"Please," you pleaded, eyes wide on his. He leaned forward and pressed two fingers to your lips. Your mouth parted immediately, sucking them into the wet warmth. He groaned when he felt you lick softly at the pads of his fingers.
"You must be the Force’s gift to me for being the best pilot in the galaxy," he grinned and heard you snort. Giving you a disappointed look for breaking character, he used his free hand to flick your side and felt you squirm. He bit his bottom lip when you glared at him in return, nipping at his fingers. "Maybe I’ll use this sweet mouth of yours," he mused and the teasing look in your eyes was replaced by something more feral. More hungry.
He had said it as a joke, as a threat in the spirit of the rogue he was playing. But seeing the change on your face, the way you sucked on his fingers… He groaned, leaning forward to thrust his tongue into your mouth, using his fingers to hold your jaw open.
When he pulled away he saw your eyes were hazy, your tongue lazily circling his fingers. He smirked down at you, "Mmm princess, seems like maybe you do want this."
Your eyes snap up to his, jerking your face away from his hand. "Never."
"Oh really," he raised an eyebrow, shifting his body until he was straddling your thighs, running his hands lightly down your neck. With deliberate slowness he parted the robe, exposing your body to the air and his eyes. He swallowed, the sight of you never failed to cause his heart to skip a beat, his blood to pump faster. He ran a finger under your breast, hiding a smile when you arched slightly up to him.
His fingers tweaked your nipple, "Princess, I could have you begging for me."
"I would never beg for ahh," your protestations were cut off when he leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub and sucking it hard into his mouth.
"What was that?" He asked conversationally, laving it with his tongue before gently setting his teeth to it. "That almost sounded like begging."
He glanced up when you didn’t respond, saw your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth open in a silent gasp. He nibbled at your nipple, heard the keening noise you made and turning his attention to the other. Giving it the same ministrations, flicking the one not in his mouth with his thumb. His body shifted, his knee forcing your legs apart and he reached down to glide his fingers through the heart of you.
"Oh, at least one part of you is honest," he whispered into your skin. Slick heat coated his fingertips and he muffled a groan, moving so both his legs were between yours, holding you wide open to the exploration of his fingers. When they glided across your clit you moaned and he echoed it. "Mmm, that was closer, but not quite."
He shifted down your body, pressing kisses to your skin until he settled between your legs, situating your thighs over his shoulders. His hands clasped at your hips as he pulled you slightly, into his waiting mouth. The breathy little sigh you made was music - just the touch of his lips enough to pull that pleased little noise from you. He nuzzled you for a moment, his nose slipping between your wet folds and over your clit. Another noise, sharper this time.
Looking up he could see you spread out before him, the arms pinned above your head pulling your breasts up high. Your stomach was quivering and he ran a soothing hand over it at the same moment he gently licked against you.
"Poe!" you shouted and he nipped you.
"Nuh uh, tonight I’m just Commander." He thought for a moment, "Or 'Sir' if you want."
Your toes pushed against his hips and he had a feeling that 'Sir' was off the table. Ah well, it was worth a shot. Instead, he dipped his tongue into you, thrusting slowly into your tight channel.
"Oh… Commander," you panted and Poe rewarded you with a long lick up to your clit, flicking against the bundle of nerves and then moving down again. Taking his time, ignoring your breathy moans and the clench of your thighs around his head. Occasionally he turned his mouth to your inner thigh, running his tongue along the soft skin and gently biting. But he always returned to your heat, your soaking core.
"Sir…"
He closed his lips on your clit, massaging it with his lips before letting it go. "Oh that sounds lovely. Beg for me princess. Tell me how much you want me."
"I want…" you started but he was tonguing your clit again and all thought seemed to fly from your head. One of his fingers slowly slid inside of you, filling an aching need. "Please," you finally gasp and he thrust his hand up hard into you, flicking your clit with his tongue.
He gentled immediately, listening to your breathy whine. "Much better," he muttered against your clit. "If I give you what you want - what will you give me?"
"Anything," you promised recklessly.
"Oh I like the sound of that," he hummed in pleasure. "Will you let me put my cock right here?" He stroked inside of you for emphasis and you nod.
"Yes, yes, please."
"Alright then, since you ask so nicely." He didn’t tease anymore, just buried his face against you and drove you relentlessly into your peak. Holding you steady with one hand while he fucked you with the other. He relished your cries, the way your body rocked beneath his hand, even the curl of your toes into his shirt. He would never get tired of making you come. Never.
As you slowly drifted along the highs of your pleasure he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and quickly shoving his pants off. By the time you were somewhat coherent his body was laying over yours, his mouth seeking yours out.
"Taste how much you want me," he murmured, urging your tongue to tangle with his. You moaned, arms straining against the bindings, wanting to wrap him in your embrace.
"Poe," you gasped and he nips your lower lip. "Commander," you correct quickly, "please, I want you inside me."
"All you had to do was ask princess," he whispered back, lifting one of your knees with his hand and sliding inside of you in one smooth stroke. You groaned together and he pulled away from you just as slowly, starting a smooth steady rhythm.
"Commander," you breathed and fuck but that shouldn’t be as sexy as it was. He was going to have a hard time ever concentrating during shift again with the memory of your sweet voice moaning his rank into his ear.
"Commander please, I need more."
"More?" He shifted slightly and fucked in to you hard. "Like this?"
"Yes," your reply was instant, your mouth gaping open and he quickly took advantage. Capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. His forearms were under your shoulders, hands cupping each side of your head. Holding you still while his tongue ravished you, hips snapping into yours. He relished the hot pant of your breath into his mouth, the moans he could capture. When your legs rose to wrap around his waist he lowered one of his hands to cup beneath your ass, urging you to meet his heavy thrusts.
"Are you going to come for me again princess?" He whispered the words directly against your tongue, shifting his weight so he could slip his hand between your bodies. When his fingers gently circled your clit you cried out - thighs clenching against his waist.
"That’s it baby," he pulled his head away so he could watch your face. "That’s it, come for me."
He could see your fists clenching, your arms stretched above your head, your back arching. Every movement was taut, beautiful, straining for release. He moved his fingers faster, picking the pace of his hips up.
You screamed when you came, a wordless cry that shot straight into his heart. He moved his hand away quickly, back to holding your head as he ground his hips down into yours. "Oh fuck princess," he moaned, your muscles tightening and releasing as your orgasm washed over you. "Just like that. Fuck you feel-"
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by your lips. Neck arching up to capture his mouth and he followed you back down. Lips pressed to yours as he lost his rhythm. Lost his senses. Lost his mind in the pleasure of your body.
When his brain began to function again he could feel your legs still wrapped around his waist, the hot puffs of your breath stirring his hair. He grunted when he pushed himself up, nuzzling your nose with his before placing a light kiss on your lips.
"I think that was a suitable reward for slaying a dragon," he said with a grin and saw your nose crinkle when you giggled.
"Wicked man," you sighed and he kissed you again, pulling slightly on your hair. You arched your neck into the touch, gasping softly.
"Very wicked," he assured you and trailed kisses down your neck. He felt himself slip out of you, heard the small noise you made when he did. He lightly ghosted his lips across your collarbone. "Now," he said, slowly sitting up and spreading his knees wide, your thighs thrown over his. "What inducement might you have for me to set you free?"
Your lips pursed for a moment, hiding a smile, and then you licked your lips. "You’ve already ravished me scoundrel. What more could I possibly give you?"
He raised an eyebrow and you winked at him. "Oh my dear princess," he cooed, running his hands up your thighs until his thumbs pressed to your center. "I can think of a few more things."
#poe dameron x you#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron / you#poe dameron / reader#poe dameron#smut#star wars fanfiction#fic
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But I’m Here In Your Doorway
Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader
Based on these lines from this is me trying:
Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway
Word count: ~2.6k
Warnings: mentions of and encounter with possible suicide, injuries (blood, bruises, etc), mention of (previous) deaths
Summary: reader loses everything. after she nearly makes an irreversible decision, she goes to Poe for help.
GIF not mine
The screams of your squadron members bounce around in your head. It was your fault, you knew that. You shouldn’t have set off without checking your ship. Without checking for any trackers. So it wasn’t a surprise when, out of nowhere, a group of TIEs burst out of hyperspace, straight into your fleet like pins being knocked over by 30 flying bowling balls. You had watched, helplessly, as your friends - your family - were picked off one-by-one. As they went up into terrifyingly bright balls of gas and flame and smoke. It was your fault. All your fault.
Part of you was trying to cling onto the notion that you couldn’t have known, how could you have known? But the majority of your mind beat back those thoughts, letting the sickening guilt take over and push you into a dark corner. Debriefing had been a nightmare. General Organa had, of course, told you that it wasn’t your fault, that it was nobody’s fault but the spy she hadn’t discovered in time. She could sense the weight on your shoulders, sense you falling into a pit inside of yourself.
After the meeting, she had pulled you aside.
“Y/N. I need you to look at me,” she said, turning your head gently but firmly with her right hand. “It isn’t your fault. You did everything you could. Sometimes, things are just out of our control.”
“I know,” you lied, just wanting this conversation to be over. Leia could sense your apprehension, and sighed.
“Look, I know that nothing I say is going to change how you feel, because I’ve been there, and I know what you’re thinking. I know it’s hard. Trust me.” you look down at the floor, scuffing the tip of your boot across the dusty ground. “It will get better. I promise you.”
“Thanks, general.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leia?” she asks lightly as you turn to walk away.
“A few more, apparently,” you respond, the ghost of a false smile resting over your face. With that, you turn on your heel and head to your quarters.
You step through the door as it slides open and sit down on your bed. You reach for your datapad, wanting to distract yourself with something.
You click the screen on, and your heart drops. Staring back at you are the smiling faces of your squadron. You’re all clustered around Mari’s new droid, with hands on its shiny purple head. She had been so happy to get that little guy.
Now they were both nothing more than dust drifting through the empty expanse of space.
You hurl the tablet at the wall, watching as the screen shatters and falls to the floor.
You place your head in your hands, silent sobs racking your body. You clench your hair in your hands, knuckles turning white. You stand up, body shaking, and walk out of your quarters.
You pass Finn in the hallway. He smiles at you, but you can’t bring yourself to do the same. You feel awful as he looks back at you as you pass him, but at this point there’s no use trying to fix it. You trudge outside and up to your x-wing sitting on the tarmac, the edges of the wings blackened from smoke. You glance around, checking the coast is clear, then scurry up the ladder and into the cockpit. You check the time.
1800.
Sighing, you boot up your craft and quickly take off. You cruise over the base a few times, watching everyone go about their day. Like nothing happened. Like 10 of the most beautiful, vibrant souls hadn’t just been snuffed like a match. You swallow the knot in your throat and head for the atmosphere. You need to get away from here.
-
“General Organa!” Leia turns, to see a frenzied runway tech sprinting towards her. “Y/N took off on an unauthorized flight.”
Leia swallows thickly, her heart dropping. “How long ago?”
“We noticed she was left just now - but it looks like she’s been gone about an hour.”
“Then there’s nothing we can do but hope she comes back safely.”
“That’s what I was worried about.”
-
You land on a nearby forest planet, after searching for about ten minutes for a place to touch down. You pick a plateau on the Western side, lowering your land gear as you begin to descend. You hop down from your ship onto the grassy earth, and look around.
It’s quiet up here. There’s a soft wind blowing, and it weaves delicate fingers through your hair and across your face as you take off your helmet. You let it fall to the ground, and decide to walk around for a bit. You make your way to the edge of the plateau, and look out across the forest beyond. It stretches on for miles, a swath of dark green. The last rays of the sun blaze across the sky, painting the clouds with a pink-orange hue.
You glance down, and your heart drops to your toes. It’s a long way to the ground below. You begin to back up, but for some reason you find yourself stopping. You get closer to the edge, still looking down. It would be so easy to just take another step. Just one more. All of this would be over. You wouldn’t have to feel this guilt anymore.
Your knee lifts up slowly.
Realizing what you’re about to do, you scramble back, falling to the dirt. You brace your hands on the ground, digging your fingers into the earth to anchor yourself. Your chest heaves, and your vision spins. The ground seems to buckle, to toss you around. The sky bends and arches above you as you struggle to breathe. You roll over onto your stomach and wrap your arms around your knees.
You don’t know how long you lie there, but by the time you have the courage to stand up and walk again, the moon is floating in the sky above you, and the stars glimmer against a black backdrop.
You climb back into your x-wing and sit there, staring at your dashboard. Your eyes meet one of the few pictures leaned against the fuel gague. You and Poe lean against his x-wing a few months ago. You have your arms wrapped around each other. He’s kissing your cheek, and you’re laughing, open-mouthed, your nose scrunched up and your eyes shut tight.
You take a shuddering breath. Poe. You couldn’t believe what you’d almost done - what you still might do, if you don’t get out of here. You couldn’t leave him like that. You rapidly go through your flight checklist and then take off, headed back to base.
You land on the tarmac around 0200, exhausted and beaten down by your own thoughts. You hop out of your ship, landing on the ground with a thud.
You start walking, not really knowing where your legs are taking you, but you end up at Poe’s quarters. You can hear movement inside the room. You raise a trembling hand and knock once.
He opens the door, and his eyes widen. His mouth moves silently, searching for words.
You swallow thickly, a nervous knot tying in your stomach.
He takes a step toward you, not quite believing what he’s seeing. Leia had told him that you’d left suddenly after their meeting, and he had grown worried that you were hurt, or worse. But here you are, standing in front of him. Your form is limp and you’re drawn into yourself. Your face and neck are caked with blood and dirt, and your eyes are clouded and empty.
“Hi,” you say weakly. He quickly closes the gap between the both of you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. Your arms hang limp beside you.
“Stardust,” he breathes, holding you tightly. “I was so worried.”
Tears prick the corners of your eyes, falling down your face and onto Poe’s shoulder. He pulls back, concerned. Cradling your face in his hands, his eyebrows crease with worry.
He looks down at you, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. There’s a silent question written across his features. You shake your head tearfully. You don’t know what to say.
“Baby…” he whispers, pulling you close to his chest again. You clutch at the back of his shirt with shaking hands.“I’m here now - you’re safe. You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok.” He repeats those two words over and over like a mantra, equally to himself as to you. “Let’s get you inside, ok?” he says, and you nod. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he guides you into his quarters.
“I’ll grab some clothes for you,” he says as you sit down on the edge of the bed. He rustles through his drawers, eventually coming up with a long-sleeved olive green shirt and a pair of grey boxer shorts. He sets them on the bed next to you. “Are you good to take a shower?” You think about it for a minute, and slowly shake your head. The idea of being pounded with thousands of tiny droplets makes you want to hide under a blanket.
“Too much,” you murmur, and he nods in understanding.
“Ok, love, that’s fine. We do need to clean you off and deal with these cuts, though.” he gestures to the lacerations across your skin. You nod weakly. You hear him pad over to the refresher unit and grab a medkit and some washcloths, which he wets under some running water from the sink.
He kneels in front of you, and motions for you to take off your flight suit. You slip it halfway off, letting it rest around your waist. Poe sucked in a breath through his teeth as he saw the bruises blooming across your torso and arms. You’d gotten tossed around pretty bad, getting knocked through space by several of the TIEs. You’d slammed your sternum right into the dashboard at one point, and small fragments of something had slashed open nearly every bit of exposed skin and even some under your suit.
“Y/N…” he says quietly, tearing up. You bite the inside of your cheek, hating to see him so upset.
He gets to work cleaning your cuts. He’s as gentle as he can be, but you still hiss as the cold water on the washcloth cleans out your cuts, and tears start to fall as he bandages up a particularly bad cut on your stomach. He holds your hand the whole time, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you need to, never even flinching as your vice grip tightens around his fingers.
“Ok, baby, let me check your legs and then you’re all set,” he says, and you turn away, face flushing with nervousness. He’s confused for a second, then has a moment of understanding. He’s never seen you naked - you weren’t ready to get intimate yet, so you guys had been taking it slow, and now really wasn’t the best time to breach that barrier. “You can change into the shorts first,” he says quietly, and you look back at him gratefully.
You make your way to the refresher unit, shutting the door behind you. You peel off your flight suit the rest of the way, followed by your undergarments, crusted with blood from the cuts on your stomach. You pile the discarded clothes in a pile by the shower, and slip on the shirt and shorts Poe had leant you. You take the opportunity to glance into the mirror above the sink, and grimace at the reflection that gazes back at you. Hair messy and tangled, face bruised and covered with small cuts, you were not a pretty sight to behold. Sighing, you head back into the main room.
Sitting back down on the bed, you lean against the wall and stretch your legs out in front of you. Poe sits down on the mattress next to you, surveying your exposed limbs. They aren’t as bad as the upper half of your body, but they definitely aren’t good. He dabs at the cuts gently, taking your hand again. He mutters sweet nothings as you clench your teeth and shut your eyes tightly for the next few minutes as he finishes up.
“All done,” he eventually says, and you relinquish your grip on his hand, wiping the tears from your eyes. He looks up at you, and you almost melt at the love in his eyes. You realize in that moment how lucky you are - that no matter what, he’ll always take care of you. Always.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he smiles softly, opening his arms. You crawl over to where he’s leaned against the headboard and collapse into his embrace, breathing beginning to even out.
“You need sleep, baby,” he says, and you nod. “You can stay here, if you want.” You nod again, and he presses a kiss to your hair. “I’ll grab some extra blankets from the closet.” He gets up and goes to retrieve them. You get under his comforter and lay your head down on one of the pillows. Your eyes drift closed.
Poe pads back over to the bed and pauses, looking down at you. He swallows thickly, tearing up. He makes a promise to himself then and there that he’d never lose you like that. Never again.
He lays another blanket over you, then switches off the lights. He quickly changes into some sleep clothes and then gets under the covers, laying down facing you.
“Poe?” you mumble, searching for his face in the dark.
“Right here, honey,” he says softly, and you inch closer to him, a bit nervous to get too close. He senses your unease and smiles softly. “Cmere,” he says, draping a hand over your waist and pulling you close to him. You tuck your head against his chest, a warm feeling creeping into your very core. Being this close to him is grounding. You take a deep breath in. The scent of the lavender soap he uses clings to his skin, and it washes over you. You listen to his breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest.
“I love you,” you breathe, eyes widening as you realize what you just said. The two of you haven’t exactly said it before. You feel Poe freeze beside you, and your heart drops. You mentally kick yourself. How could you say that right now?
“I love you too,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. You blush furiously as he tilts your head up with his thumb and forefinger. “To the edge of the universe and back.” He presses his lips to yours, feather soft.
“I love you,” you say again, just because you can. He smiles softly.
“I’m proud of you, I want you to know that,” he says after a while. “For...getting through all this. I know it hurts, and it’ll stay that way for a bit, but…” he pauses, taking your hand in his. “But I’ll always be here if you need me. To talk, or just listen. You can lean on me, ok?”
“Ok,” you say quietly, looking up into his eyes.
“Ok,” he whispers.
“Ok.” You smile, and his heart flips at the beauty of it. He pulls you into his chest once more, and you’re out like a light almost instantly. He presses his lips to your forehead before drifting off, holding you tightly in his arms.
#poe dameron#poe dameron fic#poe dameron/reader#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron fluff#poe dameron angst#star wars#star wars fic#star wars fluff#star wars angst#poe dameron fanfic#poe dameron fanfiction#fluff#angst#fluff and angst
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JUST SOME BOY PT. 2
Pairings: Reader x Miya Atsumu
Warning/s: Angst, just angst.
Note: Some people requested a part 2 of just some boy and here it is! Some people suggested or requested that the reader and Atsumu get to meet again and that the reader gets in a relationship with someone such as Oikawa, Kageyama or Ushijima or Suna. I combined both requests and I hope that you guys like this! Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs. I appreaciate it so much!
Part 1
“We don’t need memories.”
That quote alone remained in Miya Atsumu’s head for a very long time. Seeing that banner during their games, it would always dig deeper into his brain, making an impact to him. As if that banner alone haunts him throughout the matches he plays with his team. He carried that simple words throughout the years, trying to understand the exact meaning of it.
Do they mean it in a negative perspective? Does it mean to simply forget about the memories you shared so, so, so dearly with someone or memories that simply bring you joy? If so, Atsumu would find it so easy to do. Throughout the years, he can simply forget about the little things in his childhood. He can remember fighting with his twin brother but he couldn’t remember exactly what they were fighting about. He could remember the TV shows or the games he loved to play but now his mind could be filled with volleyball, volleyball, volleyball.
But somehow, deep within his mind, there would always be a part of it thinking about you.
Memories with you are so precious, a treasure that he can’t simply forget. The caress of skin, the laughter and giggles, the teasing, the flirting, the gentle brush of your lips against his. He wouldn’t dare forget about it.
Why did he mess it all up? Is it because of boredom?
He knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t come up to a reason as to why he did it but what he knows is that he regrets doing that to you. You didn’t deserve to go through that.
“Miya Atsumu did it again!” He heard someone announce as he successfully did a powerful serve. A playful grin made its way across his lips, feeling excitement rush through his veins.
He loves this feeling. The feeling of being able to do the thing he loves and being able to do it successfully. It adds to his confidence.
He knows he’s playing so well right now.
Meanwhile, the fans went wild. They were cheering, some were even squealing as they tried to grab the setter’s attention. Some were even brave enough to try and flirt with the setter during events for the fans. He liked the attention but it wasn’t exactly coming from someone he wants.
It was a new season and every team was determined to win. However, some had to lose, some had to move forward and push themselves to do better, better, better. Today, it was a match against the Schweiden Adlers and both teams are determined to win today. All the players on the court motivating one another to do better, to give their all. It was evident as the game went on for so long. Everyone was doing their best and even the crowd can see it, moving to the edge of their seats in anticipation, just to see who would win this season.
“How was my serve, Omi?” He had a hand on his hip, feeling smug and ready to annoy the hell out of his teammate.
“Stop calling me that.”
Expecting that reply, he laughed. He kept annoying the wing spiker during the break they have. He would receive a glare or a disgusted look coming from Sakusa and the setter wouldn’t even flinch. He was definitely used to it, evident throughout the months that they’ve had a banter.
However, he could feel something tingling beneath his spine. His fingertips were going numb and his heart was hammering against his chest. In conclusion, he felt weird but have this sudden or rather strong urge to scan through the crowd.
It felt like someone was poking, nudging or forcing him to do so even though none of his teammates were telling him to do so. Normally, he wouldn’t dare too glance at the audience, knowing it can possibly distract him from the game but today felt different. Biting his lower lip as curiosity got the best of him, he looked towards the stands where people usually gather to watch.
He could see the fans on their side, cheering them on and throwing him smiles and waves, glad that he was finally sparing them a glance. Slowly, he set his eyes on the fans of the opposing team. With his eyebrows furrowed, he searched through the sea of people as if he was looking for someone important.
He didn’t know what he was doing but this wouldn’t hurt him, right? What can he possibly see from the audience? An old friend, maybe but they would definitely know to talk to him after the match. But his gut feeling told him to just do it, you wouldn’t get another chance to do so.
“We don’t need memories.” It echoed inside his head, drilling itself for him to possibly not forget about it. “We don’t need memories, Atsumu.”
How come he can’t forget about you?
He continues to think about it while staring at you, unbelievably in the stands to watch. Is he dreaming? Hallucinating, maybe? His breath got knocked off of his lungs at your presence, blinking rapidly to see if this was real or not. His chest was tightening and he could feel his palms being clammy as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Is that really you?
“Y/N?” He whispered, confused but he’s really, really, really glad that you’re here.
Memories with you flashed through his eyes. That one blanket you loved so dearly, that movie that you couldn’t stop watching over and over again, the beauty he gets to witness throughout the day when he doesn’t have to go to practice. His lips on yours, the pads of his fingers on your skin, his eyes that would always be focusing on you.
He would never dare forget about you.
As if you could sense someone looking at you, you turned to match their stare but got surprised at the attention you’re receiving from the setter. You shot him a questioning look but gave a small smile, trying to be nice.
He misses you. He misses you so much and up to this day, he regrets what he did to you.
“Miya, focus.” He heard his teammate say but he couldn’t care less. What mattered to him is you in the crowd, watching him and possibly still supporting him up to this day.
However, these thoughts left his mind as he heard you cheering for the opposing team. Did he hear that correctly?
Nah, maybe I’m imagining things. He thought, tilting his head to the side a little bit to show his confusion and hesitance on the thought.
No, you really were cheering for the Adlers. It was evident as he really was facing the fans of the opposing team, seeing you standing there to cheer along with the others, saying “Go, go, Adlers.”
Is this real?
“Atsumu-san, are you okay?” Hinata asked as he approached the setter during the break. They were on their third set and everyone can see how Miya Atsumu suddenly wasn’t playing well throughout the match.
He forced a tight lipped smile on his face, “Of course, Shoyo-kun. No need to worry ‘bout me.” He waved his hand off, dismissing the topic.
In all honesty, he knew he's off of his game. His serves were not on point anymore, sometimes hitting out of bounds and his sets weren't near as perfect.
It all went downhill when he saw you in the stands. He knows he shouldn’t be blaming you, you’re here to watch just like everybody else. The problem is him, he knows he's distracted. You're all he could think about, occupying his mind. It was messing him up and confusing him as he began overthinking the possible reasons as to why you’re here, why you’re cheering for the opposing team.
He bit his lower lip, shaking his head to get him to focus, focus, focus.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth. For a while, this is what he would be doing. Breathe in and out, in and out.
He knows that it wouldn’t make him completely forget about your presence, watching this match but it definitely helped him focus a little bit more in the match.
“I’m so proud of you, Atsumu.” He can remember you saying those words to him everytime, whether it be winning or losing. You always knew the right words to say to him.
For now, he’s on his own. He wouldn’t witness you saying those words to him after this game. He doesn’t even have you here supporting him and cheering him on but you’re watching the match. That’s enough for him to keep moving forward and tell himself to focus and play well.
The crowd went wild, the whole arena filled with cheers or screams. Everyone did their best, it was evident as some players sat on the court, clearly exhausted and worn out. Every single player worked hard to get to where they are right now and no one felt disappointed at the match today.
The Schweiden Adlers came out as the winner of this season and everyone thinks that they deserve it. Even though both teams played really well, one is bound to come out as the winner and the Schweiden Adlers did their best to claim that title.
When it was time to spend some time interacting with the fans and thanking them for their support, Atsumu was absent.
In that moment, everything didn’t matter to him. Losing the match didn’t matter to him. HIs mind is only filled with you and he was determined to try and talk to you today. It has to be today or he might lose you again and it will be his fault all over again for not chasing after you.
Looking around the arena, he hoped that he hasn’t missed his chance. “Atsumu-san, great game!” He could hear people talking to him, congratulating him and reporters trying to catch a minute or two with him to hear his insights about the game.
He couldn’t help but leave the crowd, his feet moving to the exit and possibly start looking for you after he cleans up in the locker room. But it didn’t go as planned and he was glad it didn’t. It was better to meet and talk to you right now than waste more minutes that would end up not finding you.
"Y/N." He said in awe as he breathed out. Relief washing over his face as he saw you near the corner, avoiding the crowd.
Without wasting a minute, he jog up to where you were standing. A genuine smile present on his face as he finally caught up to you. “Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” He wanted to lighten up the mood, to possibly talk to you and end it on a positive note considering the fact that things didn’t end well the last time both of you saw each other.
"Miya-san?" Your eyebrows shot up, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him.
It would be a lie if he said it didn’t hurt him a little when he didn’t hear you call him by his first name. He knew he lost the privilege to hear that from you, especially the nickname you always use to call him by. But he was still hoping, hoping that there could be a little spark between both of you because he still, still, still loves you.
However in your perspective, you had wished so desperately to the higher being above to not let you cross paths with him. Catching him staring at you mid-game definitely caught you off guard. You didn’t expect to at least get noticed by him.
You rushed to the place where you know the crowd wouldn’t gather, hoping that he doesn’t come to see you, to talk to you. You still couldn’t forgive him after what he did.
Yet, he’s here, acting as if nothing bad happened between both of you. He’s pretending that he didn’t break you, that he didn’t make you lose your trust to him and to others, that he didn’t hurt you. His actions couldn’t be forgiven. If he, at least, felt that the love he feels for you is fading away, he could’ve talked to you about it first. He should’ve ended things instead of going after another person when he’s still in a relationship.
You loved him so much, you loved him so, so, so, dearly. You opened yourself up to him, gave your complete trust, had so many intimate moments with him and this is the outcome? Life really must be so cruel to you.
Nonetheless, you’re still proud of his achievements up ‘till now.
“How are you?”
“I’ve been fine. What about you? Is there a reason why you wanted to talk right now?” You’re tired, letting out a sigh. “It’s been a year, Miya-san and I think it’s best if we just forget about each other.”
Memories. We don’t need memories. How you wish you could forget about everything about him, the memories that you shared with him.
“No, wait,” He began, desperate enough to let you stay for a bit longer. He needs to talk to you but he doesn’t know where to begin.
“Y/N, I really regret about what I did to you. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I messed everything up. You’ll always be the one for me, you’re the only one who makes me happy.”
You let out a scoff, not believing a word that comes out of his mouth. “Miya-san, please. I’m assuming that you ended things with her and now that you can’t find anyone to hook up with, you come running back to me.”
“That’s not true-”
“If it isn’t, then why haven’t you contacted me all those months ago? We haven’t seen or even talked to each other for a year.”
He stayed silent, not knowing how to answer that question.
He thought that you’re mad at him, that you wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. But he could’ve still tried, he could’ve made an effort when he realized that you’re the only one for him.
“I loved you so much, Atsumu. So, so, much. Was I not enough? Did I do something wrong for you to do that to me? Do you have any idea how much it hurt to witness you saying that someone else makes you happy, that I wasn’t enough to make you happy? Do you know how it pained me to hear that coming from you? Thinking that wow, I don’t make him happy anymore.”
“You couldn’t even start with an apology. I’m sorry but please, don’t talk to me anymore.” With that, you turned around to walk away from him.
He was about to chase after you, to beg for forgiveness and possibly try to fix things. He can’t lose you like this, he just can’t. But as he took a step forward towards your direction, he stayed still.
He remained frozen on the spot, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance but also confusion.
“Ready to go, baby?” The setter from the opposing team asked, approaching you with his bag slung over his shoulders.
“Hey, yeah. You did so well today, Tobio. I’m so proud of you.” You said, holding your hand out for him to take which he gladly did.
“We don’t need memories.” Kita said, “It means we don’t have to dwell on the past, we should focus on the present and our future.”
“I’m so proud of you, Atsumu.” It echoed through his head, making him dizzy. “I love you.”
For now, he has to disagree. He needs those memories. He needs to remember what it felt like to be with you, to hold you so close to him and to hear you utter those words to him. He shouldn’t be dwelling on the past but he finds it hard to move on. With this, he will continue to live his life filled with regret.
As he watches you walk away from him accompanied by another man, he couldn’t help but wish that you were with him instead.
END.
taglist: @aonenthusiast
#justsomeboy#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu angst#atsumu x y/n#atsumu scenarios#haikyuu!!#kita shinsuke#kageyama tobio#kageyama x reader#miya twins#haikyuu angst#haikyuu#haikyu#angst#miya atsumu angst#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader
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Hi, found your work. You do great writing the characters so well. If I may request an Aizawa story. He's had his kidnapped darling for a while and she's been "good",but he has doubts so he starts to "test" her to see if she would run; like leaving a window or door unlocked and he watches her to see if she really stays or takes the chance to leave him. Meanwhile, darling does notice all this but she's not sure what to do. Sorry if this is long, but I think it could be interesting.
Of course, bby!
TW Stockholm syndrome, implied non-con, captive reader
Shouta Aizawa x female reader
Little Bird
It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does.
There’s no reason that the sight of an open window should make you feel anything, much less the quiet unease that’s been slowly gnawing at you since morning.
It’s a warm day, the lingering summer heat more oppressive than usual, yet instead of turning on the AC as he usually does, Shouta chose instead to crack the window. A small, thoughtless gesture. You hadn’t even noticed until halfway through the late breakfast he’d painstakingly prepared for you, you’d felt the cool breeze tickle your skin, gently ruffling your feathered wings.
It was nice. A soothing balm against the building heat of the day. Your eyes had fallen shut, a soft, sleepy smile crossing your face, and for one perfect moment, you’d let yourself enjoy it.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, the breath of fresh air kissing at your feathers.
Because you didn’t fly anymore.
He didn’t want you needlessly risking yourself like that.
Because the windows were always shut.
Locked.
Because it was safer that way. Just like the padlocked front door with all of its chains - all the extra precautions were solely for the sake of your protection.
You knew this. You understood it.
So why did the sight of an open window make your heart seize, your breath stutter?
You hadn’t even heard him come up behind you, so caught up in the rush of… what exactly? Emotions? Your thoughts? The slow unease creeping up your spine?
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he’s asked, jerking you bodily back to the present.
Swallowing harshly, you’d forced a smile onto your lips, shaking your head as you tried to remember how to speak. “I-it’s just hot,” you’d managed to stutter.
He’d hummed in quiet agreement, draping his arms over your shoulders to press an indulgent kiss to the crown of your head.
You’d relaxed into the comfort of his embrace, and that should have been the end of it - but it wasn’t.
Being one of his rare days completely off, Shouta’s determined to do as little as possible, which usually means spending the day curled up on the couch together - Shou reading, fingers gliding absentmindedly through the downy soft feathers of your wings. You’d come to love days like that, when he didn’t have to leave. He’d always make you feel so safe, so adored in his arms. Even the lazy kisses that almost always led to lazy lovemaking - the two of you entwined on the cushions, his hips leisurely grinding into yours as he peppers your skin with ardent affection - they’re something you���ve learned to crave.
Nobody else can treat you as well as he can. Nobody else can love you like he does, and he loves you so much.
You’re his angel, his treasure, his soulmate - the one thing on this earth that he can’t live without.
He adores you, takes care of you… letting him hold you close and shower you in that devotion should have been as easy as breathing.
Except today, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t settle. You tell him it’s the heat that’s making you restless, and it’s technically not a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth.
You can’t stop looking at the open window. It’s only cracked an inch or so, but that doesn’t really make much of a difference when it shouldn’t be open at all.
It’s locked for your safety, he’s told you a thousand times. The city below is teeming with a seedy underbelly of violence and corruption, and being the wife of a Pro Hero paints a lovely target on your back.
“Do you know how many of them would jump at the chance to take you from me? To hurt you as a means to get to me? Do you have any idea the awful kinds of things they would do to something so pure… so defenceless…”
You understand that, you know why you can’t leave the apartment - why the windows are locked and the front door’s always chained, even when Shouta’s home with you. He’s doing it out of love - to protect you.
But if that’s the case, then why is the window open now?
There’s a niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just can’t ignore. It’s making it difficult to focus, to settle down and lose yourself in the books he’s brought you, or the TV that’s playing quietly in the background - some TV sitcom from the 90’s.
(Your wings ruffle and twitch restlessly, flaring with every gust of wind that breezes through that torturously tiny gap, and in amongst the discomfort, you feel an ache long since buried kindle.)
You could just ask him - surely there has to be a reason he’s chosen the window over the air conditioning to abate the summer heat, but every time you open your mouth, the words get stuck in your throat.
You don’t know why it’s bothering you so much. Shouta wouldn’t deliberately put you at risk, so him opening the window (the one that’s always shut, always locked) shouldn’t raise any red flags. It shouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable. It shouldn’t even register as an issue!
But the unease in your gut won’t let up. You can’t stop your eyes from darting across the room to stare, like you’re frightened that if he catches you looking, he’ll get mad, or he’ll close the window and that lovely, fresh breeze that feels so nice tickling at your wings will be gone, and you won’t get it back.
Which doesn’t make sense, because it’s just a stupid window!
I-it’s just an open window.
Except you know that it’s not, and the revelation tears at every inch of your sanity.
He calls you his angel, a nod, you suspect, to your pretty white wings, but you’re nothing more than a caged little bird, trapped and locked away for his enjoyment.
It doesn’t bother you that the window is open because it’s not safe, it bothers you because after however many months stuck as his beloved little captive - you’ve managed to rationalise everything. To accept it.
You tricked yourself into believing that you loved him back.
And the open window shatters that fragile illusion, because if you really loved him, if you really, truly wanted to be here with Shouta, an open window on a hot summer's day would be little more than an afterthought, not a bitter reminder of all that’s been taken from you.
The vitriolic disgust and shame that floods your veins threatens to overwhelm you entirely, send you crashing to your knees as a sob tears through your throat.
You let this happen. You let him twist and mold you into his perfect angel, his adoring wife.
He stole you, drugged you, tied you to his bed and raped you, and managed to convince you that that was love… and you let him.
But you can’t buckle. You can’t afford to make a single sound, because just across the room, your captor is curled up on the love seat, napping in the afternoon warmth and you might not get another chance like this one.
Your eyes dart to the window once more, and you swallow down the lump in your throat.
There’ll be plenty of time to wallow in self pity and loathing later.
It’s only opened a few inches, but you know that it slides all the way across. You know because you tried to escape that way once before, in the first few days of your captivity.
There’s a reason all the windows in the apartment are locked, and it’s not to keep the Villains out.
This time you’re silent as you pad barefoot across the floor.
Your wings spring open, stretching wide and ruffling in preparation as your eyes flicker back over to Shouta.
Still fast asleep.
A tiny breath of relief leaves your lips. As quietly as you can manage your fingers find the edge of the window pane and slowly, you ease it further open - far enough that you can clamber up onto the thin wooden sill.
Perched on the balls of your feet, braced against either side of the window pane, your wings tucked tight against your body to fit through the narrow gap, your heart stutters in your chest.
And maybe it’s a testament to how broken you really are, because as you take a deep steadying breath, closing your eyes to prepare for the leap - you feel it - an insistent little tug in your gut, a flicker of guilt that trickles down your spine.
You hesitate, just for a fraction of a second.
But it’s enough.
A pair of iron arms encircle your waist as you're yanked back, kicking and screaming through the window and into a hard chest.
“Going somewhere, angel?”
#yandere bnha#yandere aizawa#yandere aizawa x reader#yandere shouta aizawa x reader#yandere shouta aizawa#yandere eraserhead#my writing#yandere fic#tw stockholm syndrome#tw implied noncon
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duty.
50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Aristocrat!Reader
Word Count: 2,407 words
Warning: Wonky and inaccurate aristocrat/rich people politics and marrying young because of it, please bear with me
[A/N: No powers!Historical!AU]
The elegance of the Hargreeves estate is of the dark, academic sort – polished, reserved, all sharp lines and dim lighting and old books – and you’d feel quite intimidated by it if you were any less acquainted with its occupants. You and your sister always look out of place when you visit, bright splotches of summer color roaming the narrow, perpetually autumnal hallways; and when congregating with the siblings in the library or outside, any visitor could glance at your merry group and immediately tell apart the hosts and the guests.
It’s all a reflection of your respective parents, really – if you had any say in how you presented yourself, it certainly wouldn’t be in the vivid, youthful hues of your mother’s choosing, and you’re sure that some of the others have similar sentiments.
Because while your family and Five’s family are certainly different in some ways, their respective heads are both pretty damn suffocating.
“Looks like it’s a draw.”
You grunt, displeased, and collapse back in your chair, bundling up in your blanket. “Can’t take a loss, can you, Five?”
“Not if I can help it,” he answers. His frown and crossed arms speak to his dissatisfaction with the result; losing is never an option, but clear-cut victories are always better than a draw. “Want to play again?”
The suggestion is tempting. Very tempting. You reach out and pick up your king, feeling the cold, smooth marble against the pads of your fingertips, and purse your lips in thought. Your eyes flick up briefly to meet Five’s.
Oh.
“Maybe tomorrow,” you finally say, putting the piece down. “I’m getting a bit tired.”
Five studies you for a moment, head tilting in that particular, scrutinizing way of his. Then his expression smooths out and he nods.
After putting the pieces back into place, the two of you exit the warmth of the library and head towards the guest wing. The walk is silent; you keep your borrowed blanket wrapped snugly around your shoulders, the bottom dragging across the perfect, wooden floor as you look at the paintings hung along the wall. They’re landscapes, mostly – of dark green forests; cold, still oceans; blue-grey mountains shrouded in mist. Impersonal and very fitting for the tastes of Five’s father, that’s for sure.
When you reach your room, you smile at your companion, and it feels unnaturally polite. “Well, goodnight, Five.”
“Goodnight.”
The boy turns and strolls back down the hallway, and you wait until he disappears around the corner, chewing on your bottom lip, before pushing the door open to enter your room.
“You two are duller than an ashtray. 'Goodnight’?”
“Sh –” you bite back an expletive, whipping around to glare at the intruder on your bed. “Lila, go back to your own room!”
Your sister just stares at you from her upside-down position, arms and legs splayed out as she smiles. “You still haven’t talked about it, have you?”
“We don’t need to,” you snap back quietly, closing the door as quickly as you can without slamming it. “He understands it as well as you and I do.”
“You realize Mum never said you’ll have to marry the guy.”
“Of course not; she just strongly suggested it.”
“Still not an order.”
Her flippancy causes you to glare. “Lord Harold is rich and he’s willing –"
“He’s a massive creep,” she interrupts, giving you an incredulous look. “And you just came of age, [Y/n]. You’ll be miserable.”
“I can get it annulled after five years, remember?”
“You’re really going to last for five years?”
She’s trying to pull something out of you, you know it. You try to maintain your composure.
“A massive debt isn’t going to just disappear,” you repeat. “It was either him or Lady Helen, and Helen got betrothed last month. Harold’s the quickest way to fix it, in case you forgot.”
“And in case you forgot, it’s literally not your problem. Stop making a martyr of yourself when you don’t have to.” Lila sits up and swivels around to face you, crossing her legs. Her expression is expectant. “I’ll figure something out, so don’t throw a fit, alright? The debt’s going to be mine along with the estate. You can afford to disappoint Mum for once in your life.”
Your brow furrows. “Lila –”
“If you keep arguing, I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” she says. “Either you agree with me, or you tell your future love affair that you’re marrying a human toad in the spring.”
“Future lo – it’s not like that! We’re friends!”
Lila holds your indignant gaze. Then, with practiced, unladylike ease, she hops off your bed, puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows at you.
“You have the worst case of denial I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” she says.
“I’m being completely honest,” you retort hotly. And you are. You and Five are friends, and although the nature of your relationship is admittedly more comfortable than any other friendship you’ve had over the years, nothing between you and Five had ever been non-platonic.
(Not that you would mind something non-platonic – but as you’ve reiterated to Lila many, many times, you’re just as content being friends. Having a genuine, close companion in your world is rare, and you’re tired of everyone deciding what you and Five should be when the two of you are more than capable of figuring it out for yourselves.)
“Why do you care, anyway? Everything will be easier for you if I marry Harold.”
“And more miserable for you.” She lets her arms fall to her sides. “Look, I’m the oldest, so I’m supposed to be the miserable one, not you. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t marry Harold. Give yourself more time to grow up.”
You don’t know what to say.
Seemingly finished with her piece, Lila smiles before brushing past you, nudging your blanket to the side on her way to the door. You glance away when she looks over her shoulder at you.
“Sleep on it.”
… You do, though it’s a lot less sleep than you’d hoped.
—
The next morning is slow and lazy. It’s a good thing in your opinion, because as mentioned before, you had spent a great deal of the night thinking about what your sister had said, and your head feels quite foggy as a result. A cup of tea and a horse ride with everyone outside in the snow both help somewhat over the course of the day. However, by the time the sky begins to darken, you’re back in your room to take a nap before supper, and quickly return thereafter.
When you hear three quick raps on your door, you groan and drag yourself out of bed.
“Lila,” you grumble as you turn the knob and pull, “can’t you go bother Diego instead –”
You swallow your words when you see your actual visitor. Five gives you a brief, tight-lipped smile.
“Mind if I come in?”
“Uh,” you respond intelligently, then shake your head and step to the side, remembering your manners. “Of course.”
Five walks in and heads towards the window. You go to the couch nearby and sit down, slightly perplexed as he finds an interest in the candle burning on the sill – he’s welcome to hang around in here, certainly, but the two of you usually convene in his room or the library. The guest room doesn’t have much to offer in terms of entertainment.
In due time, the boy turns away from the frost-covered window and joins you on the couch.
“Your sister said you weren’t feeling well,” is all he says.
So that’s why he’s here. Shrugging, you put your hands in your lap, fiddling with the family ring on your middle finger. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
Your lackluster explanation isn’t enough, if his short, replying hum is anything to go by. Five leans forward, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. And what else? he seems to say.
“It’s … It’s just been a busy year, with Lila and me coming of age and all. More responsibilities and expectations, and all that,” you eventually continue, staring down at the thick, luxurious carpet at your feet. “Though I don’t have much of a right to complain. Lila’s bearing most of the pressure, since she’s the heir apparent …”
“She doesn’t seem too bothered,” Five points out, tone bland.
You allow yourself to grin. “Because we’re on vacation. Five, if you saw Lila this summer, you would’ve seen how hard she’s been working.” Not to mention all of the proposals that she had so graciously shot down, on account of her veto power and general distaste for marriage. “Honestly, the two of you have a lot in common and I don’t know why you butt heads so often.”
“I have my reasons.”
At that cryptic snark, you reach out and gain purchase on his hair, ruffling it in righteous revenge. Five grunts half-heartedly, elbowing you away. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and you almost feel like this conversation is going to be normal – that is, as normal as it gets with a Hargreeves.
(His hair is very soft. You feel bad for messing it up, so you attempt to smooth it back into its original state; about a minute into that attempt you realize what you’re actually doing and withdraw. You shouldn’t be so improper.)
Do you have to do this?
You decide to pay the piper before you can talk yourself out of it. “You know,” you say when the joviality fades, “she’s the one who suggested that I talk to you. About my possible betrothal.”
Five’s expression flattens. He looks straight ahead again, resting his elbows on his knees. “What is there to talk about?”
“Well, you’re my closest friend and one of the smartest people I know, so I ought to ask for your opinion on the possibility of …” You reconsider for one final moment, then inhale deeply and let it out. “Of me refusing Lord Harold’s offer.”
To your slight surprise, Five nods.
“Did you talk to your mother about it?” he questions.
“Not yet,” you murmur. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for months, but I only started seriously considering it last night. And now I really don’t want to marry Lord Harold. He unsettles me and I’m not ready.”
He frowns. “Neither of them is going to accept that as a reason.”
“I know.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “They’ll kick up a fuss over finances and it’ll be a bit of a scandal. That’s why I’m asking for your advice.”
Being the pragmatist that he is, you had thought that Five would be more averse to your plan. He himself had done things that he did not want to do in order to help his siblings, so you had assumed that despite his immediate dislike of Lord Harold since the night of your coming-of-age celebration, Five would tell you to endure a few years with the noble before disposing of him and collecting your dues. It’s the easiest way to get what you and your family needed, after all.
The fact that he’s so accepting of your decision makes you curious …
“First of all, even if he recognizes your refusal – and you’ll probably have a hard time with that, which will be an issue all on its own – your mother will try to find someone else to ship you off to,” he states, eyebrows pinched. “Preferably within the next year or so, right?”
“Yes.”
“How likely is she to push back your marriage by a few years?”
“… Not very likely,” you admit.
The boy pauses, thinking, then sits back.
“I could propose to you,” he offers, “if you’d like.”
You accidentally laugh out loud, you’re so taken aback. Five? Proposing? “Come again?”
“You heard me the first time.”
“We’re practically penniless. Would your father even give his blessing?”
He rolls his eyes. “Penniless or not, you’re an aristocrat with a title. If nothing else, Dad will accept that.”
“Neither of us want to get married.”
“And yet it’s your most realistic option thus far.” Five pins you with a serious gaze, and it finally hits you that he’s genuinely, actually asking. “Are you okay with it or not?”
“I …” You fumble over your words, staring at Five with wide eyes. “I mean, yes, I’d be okay with that, but … are you sure? You’d marry me just to get me out of another marriage?”
(Your question is not born of a doubt that he’ll go through with it. Five is a person of his word. But this is a big deal, and you’re both young, and most importantly of all, you don’t want this to be a mistake.)
“Let’s just say that I’d rather it be you than anyone else,” he mutters, shrugging softly. “This is your back-up plan, anyway. And if the marriage goes sideways, we can have it annulled after a few years and you’ll get a settlement too.”
He says it as if he’s discussing the weather. You chuckle, inexplicably reassured and amused by his bluntness. “Not even ten minutes into your proposal and you’re already thinking about an annulment? I fear for our future, Five.”
“There are worse things to be afraid of,” he replies sardonically. “Bring it up with your mom when you go back. If you can’t get out of a marriage, write me and I’ll talk to my dad.”
“Alright. You should bring Allison with you, though.”
“I suggest the same with Lila. Make it convincing.”
That won’t be too difficult. You nod, and with that, the deal seems to be sealed. Although you’re still processing what just happened, and Five is likely realizing just what he and you are potentially getting yourselves into, the two of you share a small smile nonetheless. It is hard not to.
“Thank you,” you murmur after a while.
Five glances over at your hands, then down at his. “Don't thank me yet."
"Alright, then. If you insist."
As your friend twists the steel ring on his index finger, you think to yourself, yes, you do want more time to grow up. But if the world won’t give that to you, you figure that a life with Five would be the next best thing.
#wordless ways to say i love you#source: @50-item-writing-prompts#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#umbrella academy five#five x reader#five imagine#the umbrella academy#tua#tua fanfic#fluff#fanfic#reader insert#when i say historical au i use the term VERY loosely#no idea what time period this is#just went w a general vibe/aesthetic#aristocrat!au#lila pitts#lila pitts & reader#reader: we're friends but i'd marry you if you asked#five: ok#reader: what#five: what
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The Mechanics of Living part 2
Summary: You trick Tim into going to a closed-off sector. Things go well. a/n: I will be doing a director’s cut for this is anyone is interested (by anyone I mean @glorified-red) Warnings: very slight body horror and gore
Main Masterlist
Tim Drake Masterlist
It was easiest to just tell Tim all the facts rather than rely on the goodwill you've built in 3 years to persuade him.
There's a reason sector 4-D was cordoned off last year. For some unknown reason, a section that had been little more than a concrete wasteland started teeming with infected life.
People say it was an abomination (An unidentifiable, Tim corrected but you still think abomination captured the appropriate dramatic for that.) that wandered in from farther in the waste. Some people say it was one of Bludhaven's beasts they let loose. You highly doubt Bludhaven was in any shape to contain whatever it is ravaging sector 4-D. After all, it wasn't in any better shape than Gotham was at the moment. You doubt it's ever been in better shape. They're like two cities constantly caught in this vortex of awfulness, looking at each other from two different sides thinking 'poor bastards'.
Sector 4-D was an easy hunting ground where young scavengers got their feet wet before they could move on. Now it was a dead zone, a dead zone with too much potential to pass up.
Like every sector, sector 4 was vast and unexplored and supposedly, there had been a library there. A building full of books and most importantly, medical textbooks.
You feel a little bad plucking at Tim's heartstrings when all you cared about was the payout. Appealing to the guy's sense of responsibility was kind of cheating but-- BUT! The specified textbooks do have stuff about bacteria and illnesses so you aren't really overstating their importance.
You try to push down the number of zeroes the man had shown you as you zip past a rusted sign.
You don't really trust anyone other than Tim to help you with this. Besides, all the other people who won't stab you after cashing in the reward probably don't know half as many words as Tim so you'll definitely need him to get the right books.
You stare at the rows of cars before you. They're overrun with weeds and vines and rust. A stark reminder that your Gotham is just a fraction of what it had been. You stop your bike in front of a taxi with a faded yellow body.
"This is it. This is where your life as an adventurer begins."
You swallow back the wave of nostalgia, letting the bike roll past it into the mess of cars to keep it a little more hidden. It isn't illegal to go to this sector yet. At least not when you checked but you really don't wanna gamble your Scavenger's license on clerical errors by either of your guilds.
Tim steps out of the sidecar, careful not to jostle Basil in his bag. You want to point out that you should probably wake the cat up otherwise you were wasting food on him but you knew better than to expect cooperation from Tim's fur ball from hell.
“So which theory about the illness do you think is the most plausible?” He asks, tucking the walkman away. You both thought it was stupid name but you didn’t really wanna question the teller. “The one that involves the least aliens.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at Tim whose hand is currently being eaten by his cat. “Or alien adjacent things.”
“So, you're one of those people who thinks the government did it.” Tim is *such* a little shit. Maybe that’s why his guild master gave him the most useless cat on the planet. Grade A my ass, you think staring at the furball nipping at his knuckles.
“Not on purpose, no.”
Tim raises a brow. “I didn't know you had that much faith in humanity.”
“Pffff, I think they just fucked up.”
“Here, I was accusing you of being optimistic.”
“A mistake really.”
You two come to a crossroads. A giant large yellow lantern hangs in the middle of the street, swaying listlessly in the air. It’s strange.
“Do you think the people in the old world used those to scare away the sick?”
“If they did,” he looks around, “it didn't work.”
Your eyes flit over the area. Stone walls crumble, vegetation willing in the cracks. Still, even with the overgrowth of life, the city feels hollowed out. Nearly a decade ago, you’d first laid a hand on one of the stone arches of the city hall just down by main street. Nearly a decade ago, you felt the stone crumble beneath the pads of your fingers. Nearly a decade ago, you had come the closest to knowing what it was like having the sickness. Even one of the great cities had been reduced to a fraction of its size.
“Do you think the color of the light matters?” Tim asks, pointing again to the lamp.
You squint. You hadn’t noticed it at first but yeah, the color of the lights was different.
“Maybe,” you tilt your head, “or maybe the people from before were just idiots.”
“You just have a bad opinion of them, don’t you?”
“Like you don’t.” You shoot back, tapping your bat against your boot.
Tim rolls his eyes and shrugs.
You try to smile at that but something’s wrong. Your skin bristling, the air is stale despite the wind. You watch the lantern sway back and forth, the thin wires holding it up, fragile and precarious. A bad feeling crawls up your spine.
There’s a pressure in the air, the atmosphere turning into a vacuum.
Basil hisses, looking as vicious as he can.
The wind stops.
The skittering voices rise like the fluttering of locust wings.
A writhing mass, pulsing and menacing, blots out the horizon. It opens its maw to wheeze and the stench of rot floods the air. Your insides curdle and wilt from the intensity of the putrid odor. Once the *thing* draws another breath, the skittering begins again and this time you know where it’s from.
You can see it in the way its neck twists and undulates, its rotting flesh rippling as the fragmented voices rasp out of its throat. Its limbs, deformed, move unnaturally as it ambles towards you.
You stare at it. Your limbs unmoving. That thing *is* an unidentifiable. In all technicality, it fits the neat taxonomy laid out by experts. It is neither man nor beast. Its form corrupted beyond recognition. It’s rotting and shambling. But the thing you are looking at cannot simply be sorted neatly because it is what it is.
A creature that god himself did not touch.
An abomination.
You splay a hand on Tim’s chest, pushing him back lightly. Glancing at each other, you nod as you slowly step back into an alley. You quietly curse Gotham’s gloomy weather for the thing’s appearance. You thought you would have at least ‘til sundown to look for loot before having to flee to a safer sector. But when in Gotham, nothing is ever certain even the rising of the sun.
All you have to do is be quiet. Easy enough. Being silent is the first thing you learn to be in this world.
It blinks at you.
It. Blinks. At. *You.*
Your heart stops, the blood running in your veins turning into lead.
Dozens of eyes blink at you. They’re not all human from the looks of them. It opens its maw again, your muscles bunch up in anticipation of its miasmal breath. The discordant voices coming from its mouth coalesce into a horrible sob.
Tim grabs your wrist and pivots towards an alley. The sudden change in movement shocks your body awake. You scoop Basil up and bolt down the alley, letting Tim lead the way.
Desperately, You try to concentrate on the scuff of your shoes against pavement instead of the creak of limbs and the plop of flesh as it drips off the creature. The pinching of Tim’s features tells you he’s doing the same.
You round the corner, shoulder hitting brick, narrowly avoiding dozens of hands reaching for you. Basil yowls and hisses and you would apologize but your shoulder is screaming at you and goddammit Basil, we have bigger issues.
You and Tim squeeze into a space between the buildings seemingly too small for that thing’s gelatinous form. You make the mistake of looking back only to see its limbs skitter up the building and down the other end of the alley. It smiles at you, rows of teeth glittering in the sparse light.
This was it.
This is where your life ends.
Where else is there to go?
You expect the acceptance to come in like a flood or relief. Life was hard with very little room for breath. Scraping by, tooth and nail, knuckles bleeding for every scrap of stability. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You suddenly feel so tired like the adrenaline had been keeping you together for the past few years. Acceptance should have come easy.
But it doesn’t.
You open your eyes to glance at Tim, finally resignation sets. His features are still pinched and his hand is trembling beside yours. You really did screw this one up big time, huh?
You bite your cheek.
Watching Tim’s mind work, you know you have to keep him alive. You squeeze Tim's hand. He narrows his eyes at you. You give him a crooked smile and let his hand fall.
You pivot, foot pushing against the pavement as you launch yourself to the other end of the alley.
If your estimates are correct, you can buy him 15 minutes. 15 minutes would be more than enough for him to make it back to the bike--
Tim yanks on your hood, throwing open a door. The creature howls as Tim hurls both of you into the building.
"What the heck was that?!" Tim screams.
"A Dick." You answer, rubbing your head. fuck. Tim could throw.
"No! You were being fucking stupid."
You scowl at him in the dark. "Thanks Tim. I get it."
"No, you don't!"
"Can we argue--"
The door rattles and shakes. A fist-shaped dent embeds itself on the metal door. You glance at each other before scrambling towards the very safe-looking stairs.
You fly up the steps like hell was on your heels and as far as you're concerned, it was. You wrench Tim's bag from him and you're half tempted to throw him over your shoulder as well but you're not sure the stare case can hold that much weight.
If you climb to the roof-- If you... climb... It can climb. Fuck.
You and Tim seem to come to the same conclusion as you throw yourselves into another door.
You shove a sofa in front of the door and sit on it.
"Please tell me you've miraculously come up with a plan." You hiss glancing over to Tim who's staring at the window.
He glances over his shoulder to look at you. "If I could pull off miracles, you wouldn't be so dumb."
You sigh. Ok, yeah. He has every right to be mad. It was an incredibly stupid move but it's a numbers game and yeah.
Tim runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He needs to come up with something. He glances out the window. He walks over and leans out the window.
"We should jump."
"Would you like to elaborate?" You wheeze, still not really letting go of a
"Follow me."
"Tim, I have never trusted you less in my life." You snort, quietly. But you make your way to the window. You set Basil down and look at what Tim is pointing to. There's a dumpster filled to the brim with trash. There doesn't seem to be any infected mice in there and the road to the right is a straight shot back to the bike.
You lick your lips.
"So we're on the same page."
"Uh, if that means what I think it means then yes."
Tim lets out a breath as he opens the window as quietly as possible. You listen to the steady beat of limbs thumping against the wood. You hold a collective breath. The window clicks into place with a loud snikt.
The thumping stops.
You practically shove Tim out the window while you stare at the door. It rattles and shakes. A screech erupts the stairwell as you jump out the window. You land with a thump, sinking beneath the mounds of plastic.
Your heart is hammering and pressing into your throat. Its beat is in sync with the steady thump of the limbs. The wet squelching of rotting flesh scraping against the rusted metal of the dumpster. You want to heave but Tim shoves a hand in your face. You gag silently. Tim's hand smells putrid from the trash.
You hold your breaths until the thumping goes away. You don't dare breathe until Basil settles down.
You fall limp against the trash. Your limbs feel like jelly. You gag. Thinking about jelly right now is probably the worst thing for your health.
Tim nudges you with his foot. You turn your body over as quietly as you can.
You watch him make shapes with his hands. You frown. You cycle through your memory trying to remember what the gestures mean then let go of Basil when you do.
Basil rises from the trash, padding against the plastic.
When you hear Basil jump down to the pavement, you dig your way out of the trash.
"For the record, I hate your plans." You say, gagging.
"What was yours?" Tim fires back, dusting his hair.
"..."
"Just what I thought."
You're the first to climb out, holding your arms out to him mockingly. He silently threatens to curb stomp your face. You snort and tuck your hands to your side.
Thankfully, you make it to the bike without incident.
Tim tucks his body into the sidecar, occupying himself by comforting Basil. You hand him a bat as you start the bike.
"Just in case."
You kick the bike into gear as you two ride into the sunset.
You breathe a quiet breath, letting your eyes slip shut for a moment. The road is clear for about 14 breaths. That’s all you want to think about.
At the fourteenth breath, you open your eyes to an open expanse of road, endless and breathtaking. You turn to Tim and laugh. He gives you a sour look. You’ll just buy both of you some canned pineapples later and he’ll maybe forgive you. Basil certainly does as he doesn’t participate in Tim’s sour protest, opting instead to crawl into Tim’s bag.
Then you hear it above the roar of the engine.
The skittering.
Voices like the fluttering of wings.
It screeches, the raspy cry making your skin crawl. You don’t wanna look back. You don’t want to see the unnatural movement of its body as it bounds towards you.
You kick the bike to a higher gear. The engine will hate you but you can’t repair it if you’re dead.
The bike slows down. Tim stands up raising your bat over his head, bringing it down. It does not clang. The sound is squishier and moist. Your stomach rebels. Hazarding a glance behind you, you see the writhing mass holding onto your bike.
“TIM,” you shout.
“I--” Swing “-- AM--” Swing “--A LITTLE--” Swing “--BUSY!” “THERE’S A CAN OF HAIRSPRAY IN MY DUFFLE.”
Tim ducks down, throwing you the bat. You swing wildly at the creature, summoning up a truly impressive bout of swearing.
Tim sprang up, nearly falling off the sidecar if not for you grabbing his shirt. Tim flicked the lighter, pressing down on the nozzle of the spray, and unleashing fire on the beast. The thing cries, voice shattering as it burns. You watch its flesh burn. Oh, what a pleasure it was to see it burn.
"We are never doing this again!" Tim wheezes.
"Of definitely fucking not." You bark, kicking the bike to a higher gear. The purring of the engine sounds like music to your ears.
"We are definitely doing easy sectors by a bit." You laugh.
When you don’t hear a snarky remark, you glance to your sidecar. Tim is slumped into his seat, breathing hard. You raise your brow but turn your attention to the road. You shake him. You shake him again and again.
Tim doesn't respond.
You pull your hand away and it’s slick with blood.
______________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading!!!!
Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon @notsostraightweeb
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kuzumochi. (18+)
Endeavor x Reader (Smut, Birthday Fic, 3.1k)
A/N: holy shit guys this got so much longer than expected i’m sorry if it drags at all i just had so much i wanted to get out! Also its 11:22pm so its technically still his birthday. ha.
What do you get for the man who could already have whatever he wanted at the snap of his fingers? Being the number one pro hero meant that Enji already received truckloads of expensive things, tickets to exclusive events, and the newest technologies simply because of his status. You knew this because everything he received went through you after being thoroughly checked at security. Eight months as his personal secretary offered you a glimpse into his extravagant world and honestly left you with a small bite of bitter jealousy. Some of the things that passed over your desk could pay the rent in your measly apartment for the next year, and you were sure he never gave most of it more than a second glance.
Your pen tapped lightly against your bottom lip as you stared at the pad of sticky notes on your desk, nothing more than illegible lines, dots, and scribbles covered the top one. With a sigh of frustration, you detach it from the stack, crumple it and toss it in the trash. Today was the first day of August, and the mental countdown to your boss’ birthday plagued your thoughts. While your job was comfortable as is, the cold treatment from the man you worked for grated on your every nerve. You’d think after nearly a year in his employment he’d begin to warm up to you, maybe even bother to remember your name. This was your chance to finally stand out to him if only you could think of something that the hero could possibly want for his birthday.
As much as he’d probably like a break or a vacation, you were in no position to provide that for him. He obviously didn’t want for anything material either. Does he even have a sweet tooth? You wondered silently as the tapping of your pen resumed against your face. I can’t even imagine a guy like him eating a cupcake. You know what? Actually I can and it’s hilarious. I bet his mustache would burn the frosting and-
“Ahem” Well, speak - or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Endeavor himself stood at your desk with an impatient look on his stern face. The goofy smile you’d been developing at the thought of the massive man eating sweets was quickly wiped off and your back straightened at an uncomfortable pace.
“Daydreaming on the job?” he asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t really want an answer, so you just bow your head in apology. In an embarrassed mumble, you replied, “Sorry sir, won’t happen again” and he gave a huff in response, not unlike that of a great dragon. You held back another smile at the fleeting thought of smoke puffing out of his nose in discontent, as he handed you a manila envelope stuffed to the brim with some kind of paperwork.
“I need this hand-delivered to the Hawks Hero Office immediately. This is sensitive information I’m trusting you with.” You gingerly accepted the packet, but couldn’t avoid the brief touch of his massive hand sliding past yours. You noted briefly just how warm they were, though you shouldn’t really be surprised. Courier work isn’t exactly in your job description but lately, you’ve been desperate to suck up anyways, plus some fresh air couldn’t hurt. You stood and gave one more quick bow, “of course sir, I’d be happy to deliver it” He seemed content with your answer and turned to walk through the frosted glass double doors that led into his office without so much as another word.
Honestly, that had gone better than most of your interactions in the past. Pleased with the slight development in your relationship you gatherers your purse and the envelope and headed for the elevator. Floors passed monotonously as you continued to float gift ideas around in your head, this was looking to be harder than you initially thought.
Once the lift reached the lobby you made your exit, pushing past a crowd of workers who seemed to just be returning from lunch. They laughed boisterously and made no notice of you squeezing around them. Finally, you made it to the front door of the Endeavor Agency and swiped your employee ID badge on the terminal next to the front door alerting the system that you had left the building. Fresh warm air tickled your skin as you made your way onto the sidewalk and began the trek to Hawks’ Agency. It wasn’t particularly far, only a few blocks away and the route was dotted with storefronts boasting all kinds of wares from cake to clothes to flowers.
In theory, one of the displays you passed should have given you an idea but once more you found yourself coming up blank as you approached your destination. The young man at the front desk smiled politely when you entered “Hi there, do you have an appointment?” his eyes flickered between you and the computer screen in front of him.
“Actually I’m here on delivery for Endeavor” you waved the yellow folder a bit to accentuate your statement “something about sensitive information?” This really wasn’t part of the job you signed up for. Face to face interactions with strangers is so damn awkward. Luckily the receptionist probably dealt with people like you all day and didn’t bat an eye before saying
“Of course, his office is on floor 22 but if he’s not in there, try the roof. I’ll let security know you’re heading up” and he began tapping at the keyboard with one hand while making a ‘go on’ gesture toward the elevator with the other. You thought about boarding but instead made your way to the staircase. I already walked this far, might as well make it a cardio day, and give myself a good excuse to order takeout for dinner. You were truly a genius, maybe it was time to apply at NASA instead of working your ass off for Mr. Hothead.
Twenty-two floors was a bit more of a workout than you thought it would be, and when you finally arrived at the top you were mildly sweaty cheeks ruddy and more out of breath than you’d like to admit so you take a moment to calm down before opening the doors and walking past the security guard. He gave you a sideways glance but kept his mouth shut as you knocked twice on the office doors.
The lack of a verbal response clued you into the fact that he was likely on the roof just as the receptionist had said, so you hung a left and let yourself sprint up one more flight of stairs. Once you made it through the door marked ‘rooftop’ you spotted the winged hero perched near the railing. You announced yourself so as not to startle him,
“Excuse me, Mr. Hawks? I’m here on behalf of Endeavor, he asked me to deliver this to you as soon as possible”
He wheeled around at the sound of your voice, and his eyes lit up with amusement at your disheveled appearance. “Hey, thanks! I was kind of expecting the big man himself but you’re certainly a nice surprise” he winked and took the folder from your hands “Nobody told me Endeavor hired such a cutie to be his secretary, ya think I have any chance of poaching you from him?” Despite your earlier thoughts about NASA, you had no intention of leaving your current position so you just laughed.
“I’m flattered but unfortunately I’ve got some oddly placed sense of loyalty for him”
“Oh I get it” he cocked an eyebrow “I would too if I was you, the guy’s a size queen’s dream after all. Gotta love the whole naughty secretary dynamic too”
You sputtered at his bluntness “Oh god no nothing like that I-”
“Aw, I’m just teasing kid, how couldn’t I when you come up here looking like that” He gestured to your flustered appearance and you immediately regretting taking the stairs moments ago “Besides, I’d be surprised if you got him to warm up to you enough to remember your name let alone bend you over his desk” He was spot on, you had to sigh at that.
“You’re right there, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice if there was an entirely different person sitting at my desk tomorrow”
“Heh, yeah, sounds like him. But you know, his birthday is coming up maybe a gift will put you in his good graces” another effortless wink was shot your way and despite him being the one with wings, the attention really ruffled your feathers. It’s like he had a secret mind-reading quirk or something.
“I thought of that, but I have no clue what a guy like him would even want. It’s not like shopping for your mom, where you can just give her a picture frame that says ‘Live Laugh Love’ and she cherishes it forever ya know?” Hawks snorts in amusement at your comparison. You’re right and you’ll defend that if he asks, but he doesn’t.
“In that case, I’d be willing to let you in on a little secret, some little known Endeavor lore, a true exclusive if you ask me”
“I’m not a tabloid Hawks, just tell me already” this guy messes around a lot for being the number two hero, its an incredibly stark contrast from his only superior.
“Okay, okay, you gotta lean in though, he’d kill me if I leaked something so personal” you lean in closer as instructed and he whispers into your ear, “his favorite food... is kuzumochi” You pull back in visible disappointment.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, he goes crazy for the stuff. Honest to god I’ve seen him inhale an entire batch in like five minutes. You want him to notice you? Then this is the best possible way, trust me.” and for some crazy reason you do. This could actually work, if it’s really as much of a secret as the blonde claims, you’d certainly stand out among the other gifts he’s sure to get.
You thank Hawks and turn to leave with a newfound confidence in this new plan, but not before he makes you promise to tell him how it goes after the big day. As you exit the winged hero’s agency building the work phone you were assigned chimes with a new email letting you know that you can go straight home after the drop-off, and your grin widens. Even better, now you have time to stop at the grocery store on the way home, the decision already made to go big or go home. You were bound and determined to make the kuzumochi from scratch, and it was gonna be the best damn thing your boss had ever tasted.
*******************************
The rest of the week dragged on in a painfully average way, the only thing keeping your mood afloat was the surprise dish you had been working on every night. You’d gone through multiple test batches, determined to get the flavor and consistency just right. The work paid off on the night of the 7th, just in time when you completed your best batch yet. With a content sigh, you washed your hands and packaged up the kuzumochi like a damn professional. Finally, you were able to take a long hot shower and climb into bed early with the anticipation of tomorrow bubbling in your chest.
Morning came quickly and your daily routine was done with care, then you grabbed the gift and began the short commute to work. Brain on autopilot, it seemed like no time at all until you were seated at your desk and logging in to the company’s computer system. The pristinely packaged gift was nestled into the corner of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment.
This moment came just before lunch when a mildly scuffed up Endeavor breezed past you in a huff and headed straight into his office. This is it you thought Sure, he’s a little pissy at the moment but this’ll cheer him right up. And with that, you knocked once on the office door and peeked in. The sight of him slumped in the leather office chair in front of the massive floor to ceiling window, eyebrow cocked at your intrusion made your heart jump just a little. How can one man be so damn intimidating? You cleared your throat and began to speak with entirely false confidence.
“Sorry for barging in sir, I just wanted to give you a birthday gift. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll accept it” the whole situation reminded you of confessing to your crush with a box of chocolates in middle school, and it’s funny how some things never truly change. You presented the box to him and to your surprise he actually reached out to take it.
His scrutinizing glare never let up as he untied the silky ribbon and lifted the lid, but once he recognized the contents his expression shifted quickly to one of surprise.
“Is this... kuzumochi?” His gaze fell on you and it had nearly physical weight.
“Yes sir, I have it on uhm, good authority that it’s one of your favorites” should you admit that Hawks told you this bit of information?
“Why?”
“I’m sorry? Its… well, it’s your birthday, right? I wanted to get you something that would stand out.” It felt silly to admit to his face.
“And why would you need to stand out, Y/N?” You had to keep your jaw from hitting the floor when he so casually dropped your name, the name you were sure he hadn’t even known. He decided to let you mull over the question as he took a bite of your carefully crafted treat, you could hear a small satisfied hum in his throat and it gave you chills. He beckoned you closer, “it’s delicious, would you like a taste?” when you hesitated he added, “it would be awfully rude to refuse your boss on his birthday, especially after all the trouble you’ve gone to making these”
A heavy step carries you over to his desk, like lead weights attached to your ankles. As you approach he rises out of the chair, a new unreadable look replaced the one of irritation you had been so used to all these months. “Come closer,” he said when you stopped just short of the desk. He’d never spoken to you like this before, and it sent chills down your spine. A few more steps took you around the desk to where he stood, and you barely flinched when he placed a large palm on the side of your jaw, the other held a piece of kuzumochi near your mouth. His intent was clear, he was going to feed it to you by hand. “Open” he commanded softly and you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to, so you complied.
The sweetness melted over your tongue, you truly had outdone yourself here. And once the piece was securely in your mouth, a warm thumb brushed over your bottom lip where his eyes also happened to be resting, completely content in watching you chew and swallow. The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on you. You recalled something that Hawks had said about a ‘sexy secretary dynamic’ and once again he was right. When the taste had completely faded from your senses, you looked up to finally meet your boss’ eye. The intensity in them shook you to your very core.
“I’ll ask you again, why do you think you need to stand out?” at this, his hand dropped from your lip down to your waist “Were you hoping for some kind of special attention?” the depth of his voice made your thighs clench, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. He noticed the action and quirked his lips into the faintest smile, one full of mischievous intent. One large step forward for him pushed you back onto the sturdy wooden desk. “I can’t possibly disappoint my favorite little employee then, can I?”
You barely had time to brace your arms behind you before his hand moved over again to res on the top of your thigh, and the one that remained on your jaw guided you into a kiss. It began soft, Endeavor was no fool. He tested the waters, your willingness, before jumping right in. The second you started to kiss back it was full speed ahead. The man was experienced for sure, he knew exactly how to coax your mouth into a dance with his own. Once his tongue pushed into your mouth it was all over for you, you’ve become a slave to the feeling.
All too quickly he broke the kiss, and you had half a mind to whine at the loss of contact. When you opened your eyes you noticed he was leaned over towards the box of kuzumochi that started everything. Odd time for a snack but okay. And when he returned to face you he did have another piece in his mouth, as well as the red ribbon you used to tie it in his hands. Your mouths met once again, this time he pushed the food into yours with his tongue. While you’re distracted with the odd sensation of kissing and eating at the same time you hardly notice the way he pushed both your arms up above your head and deftly tied your wrists together with the ribbon. When he was sure they were secure he let them drop and find a home around the back of his neck.
You swallow the kuzumochi just as he turns up the intensity, completely claiming your mouth with his own. This time, he pushes you even further back until you’re laid completely flat on the desk. His fingers rake up and down your sides while his hips press against yours. You can feel his growing excitement pushed up against you and the feeling has you nearly moaning. Nearly isn’t good enough got the number one though, and he starts trailing kisses down your jaw and further until he reaches the junction of your neck where he bites and sucks like his life depends on it. This finally brings forth the noise he was chasing, and when you go to cover your mouth from embarrassment is when you finally realize that your wrists are bound.
Your boss’ attention is directed elsewhere though, as he reaches a hand under your skirt, past you panties, and begins to stroke your folds. You both realized how wet you’ve become at the same time, and now it’s his turn to moan. One large digit enters you as his mouth travels further south, now nipping at your collarbones and chest. Your wrists slip from around his neck and his free hand strokes upwards from your side to push your arms up over your head. Completely exposed to him he continues to ravish your skin and curl his finger in and out of your cunt. Quickly you come undone around his finger and he removes his mouth from you long enough to drag the digit along his own tongue.
“You’re even sweeter than the kuzumochi, here” he pushes the finger into your mouth and you diligently suck the rest of your juices from it. “Good girl.” The praise itself makes you moan once again. When he’s satisfied with your work he begins to remove his pants and you finally get a glimpse of what you’re working with. You nearly get up and walk out right then, because the man is massive.
“Just relax, I’ll start slow” he reassures and stays true to his word. After a long moment of adjusting he’s fully sheathed inside you and you swear this is what heaven feels like. The moment he begins to move you know you were wrong. If that was heaven you must have finally ascended even further, to wherever gods go when they die. Endeavor fucks you hard and slow against his desk until your eyes are rolling back in your head and you can see every constellation on your eyelids. And when it’s over, you’re shaking like a leaf.
He pulls out, not giving a second glance to the fluids leaking out of you and onto the floor, and begins to untie your wrists. Both of them are red and raw from the friction of the ribbon, and he places a tender kiss on each of the marks. One more kiss on the bruised patch he left on your neck, then he’s hoisting you upwards in a sitting position. Still unsteady but slowly coming back down to earth, you feel a soft tissue wipe at the mess between your legs while a strong hand continues to keep you upright rests at your side.
When you look up to meet his gaze, your confidence is no longer an act. “Happy birthday,” you say and for once he breaks out a genuine smile that makes him look ten years younger.
As he rests his forehead against yours he replies, “It’s not over yet” but before you can question his meaning the intercom system next to his computer rings and a voice announces “Mr. Hawks is on his way up, sir” and you choke. You did promise you’d tell him how things went.
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How To Train A Demon
An adorable visual of Demon!Deku by @birds-have-teeth !!💙
Demon!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader
Summary: Who knew you’d be teaching a man from the underworld your way of life, and who knew you’d slowly start to fall in love with the very being you were taught to fear?
WARNINGS! None!
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 12k
A/N: Day 12 of the Izumonth collab!
I had to split it into two parts due to limited time with editing, so the second part will be posted shortly after the collab ends!
I also want to thank @1a-imagines for helping me edit and find a good stopping point with this fic! I would not have finished it in time if it werent for her and her amazing talents!
Just To Clarify:
Takes place in early-ish Japan during the summer!
I did not do my history homework..
Reader does not have a job, and lives alone on the side of a mountain.
They say dark and stormy nights always bring chaos and misfortune.
That the scariest of tales are bred from the harsh splatter of rain on parched ground, the crackle of lightning in the sky illuminating the monsters that lurk deep in the shadows.
They always warn to fear those nights, to keep a lantern on and a knife under your pillow, for you never know what nefarious being is waiting to strike during your most vulnerable state.
And for the most part, it was true. Believable.
Of course, how could you not believe in such stories?
They were what you grew up with, what you were lectured with, a lesson repeatedly bashed into your skull from the minute you could understand them.
Everyone feared those nights.
Everyone feared the darkness.
It was always something so easy to be afraid of without even really being given a viable reason as to why other than tales passed on for generations.
You fear what you do not understand.
Especially those who lived alone, people like you.
People who needed fear to keep them alive more than the next person.
A small house on the mountainside, surrounded by thick forests and shrines to gods of ancient times. Lands protected and blessed by predecessors, symbols carved into trees and painted on rocks to banish the evil.
But alone you lived, alone your fears manifested into a ball of terror-filled paranoia, regardless of anyone’s true sense of reason.
Could you always rely on a symbol to keep you safe?
This particular night would unknowingly bring those fears to life.
But then again, it’s impossible to expect the unexpected, regardless of what others may say or encourage.
Thunder clapped loudly in the sky as rain assaulted your wooden rooftop, something usually so peaceful amplified by the altitude and sounding like a million dancers stomping on the old wood, dragging you into a restless sleep as stray drops drip from your ceiling, echoing in a metal pan at the far side of your room from a leak you had yet to repair.
Body curled into a ball, you gasped involuntarily when a bright flash illuminated your room, followed immediately by the raging roar of the sky as it split in two once again.
It was safe to say you would suffer through another sleepless night, fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your poor pillow as you fought to maintain a steady breath as the violent storm raged on outside, howling winds only adding to the dreadful abundance of creepy noises.
Nights like these you wished you weren’t alone.
Perhaps you would have been less afraid if your deceased family didn’t decide to live on the mountain instead of in the valley.
Though you desired to move down there where lanterns illuminated the sky at night, you couldnt abandoned what little you had left of your kin.
Instead, you sucked it up, like you always managed to do.
You were an adult, after all, one that theoretically should have been married already, but alas.
You craved freedom more than you craved to be tied down by a ring of false promises. That, and the fact that typically parents were the ones who set up marriages.
As another bang of thunder rang out in the night, you squeezed your tired eyes closed, imagining someone was there with you, wrapped securely in their embrace, even if just for a moment. Someone there to calm your breath down, to protect you from the loneliness that stabbed at your weeping heart.
Whimpering, your legs rubbed together as a cold chill filtered into the room, creeping up your spine as goosebumps ran down your skin, the garment you wore doing next to nothing at keeping you warm.
Perhaps you should have kept the fireplace going.. An old, rusty oil lantern with a small flame could only do so much. Then again, it was more of a light source than a heat source, so you couldn’t really complain.
With a huff, you dragged the thick covers over your head, sealing in what little warmth you had.
It was like a warm cocoon, almost. A little bundle of protection. You could barely even see the flashes anymore, but that just meant the thunder would swoop down on you like a hawk, startling you every time.
But what else is one to do other than to wait out the storm?
The sun would rise eventually, just as it always has and just as it always will.
Since the beginning of time, the sun blessed the lands with a golden glow, shrouding its children in warmth and love. The moon was like it’s bitter sister, cold and cruel, taking away the light that led her people through her darkness.
Some nights she was merciful, and others- gone from the sky completely.
This night just happened to be one of those nights.
So not only was it violent, rainy, and cold, this night was also one without any true lights.
Stars were a blessing in disguise, their brightness concerningly dim.
At least you had your lantern and that dirty old katana your father left behind.
You were safe.
At least you thought you were, but a sudden cry bellowing through the night tore the thick atmosphere apart, sending chills down your spine and making the grip on your blanket as tight as ever.
What.. was that?
It sounded almost like..
Like a wounded animal..
Just then, a flash of light blinded your vision, a sickening roar accompanying it. The ground shook as you whimpered, eyes wide with fear.
A bolt must have struck close to home..
It’s okay.
Everything is okay.
Breath heavy and body shaking, you comforted yourself with logic- an old friend you abandoned.
An animal just got hurt, was all. Perhaps a tree fell on it, or maybe it got attacked by another animal!?
It might even have been that howling wind that acted up sometimes!
Everything was okay.
It’s okay.
Nothing to fear.
It’s just a storm.
Just a storm.
Just a storm.
You’re safe.
You’re inside.
The light guides you, the charms protect you, the shrines embrace you.
You’re okay.
It’s just a storm.
It’s just a
SCRSSSSHHHHH!!
CRASH!
“AHHH!”
A blood-curdling scream tore from your throat as something suddenly crashed through your window, the loud sound of wood tearing apart and clanging to the floor was followed by a heavy thud and the splash of rain on your padded floor at the gaping hole given to it.
Screaming in terror, your frantic hand grabbed the blade at your side, shaking body scrambling backwards to the other side of the wall, pulling it from its sheath.
You were trapped, you had no exit!
The only exit you had was where whatever the fuck that is just crashed!
Oh gods!
You’re going to die!
This was it!
A fucking storm!
A fucking goddamn storm!
God, you were a fool!
Hyperventilation crept up on you like a venomous snake, its cold body constricting tightly around your chest and throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and freezing your numb fingers.
You were scared shitless, that was for sure, and all you could do was helplessly stare with wavering eyes at a large, haunting silhouette in the corner of the room. The small light, now seemingly miles away, providing next to no coverage of this massive figure, only gifting the room more horrific shadows.
You wanted this to be a dream, that what the elders warned wasn’t true.
This was just a nightmare.
A scary nightmare your mind conjured up like it always did.
Rain splattered against your sickly pale face, the droplets mixing with the burning hot tears that poured down your cheeks as you fought to keep a steady hand and to slide up the wall to stand.
Old, dull blade pointing forward, you couldn’t help by cry out as the dark figure moves ever so slightly.
A crash of light drowns out your sobs, swallowing the room in a dull white glow for a mere moment, enough of a moment to give you a glimpse of this creature.
You wish you hadn’t seen it, that you indulged in your ignorance for a moment, that you didn’t see the way large, black wings sprouted from the back of a human.
Horns glistened with water atop its head, long tail thrashing wildly as its body moved to get up.
Your breathing stopped the minute it opened its eyes, a vicious, glowing green staring off at the destruction it caused.
Heart roaring in your ears, you did nothing but stare.
It was as if your blood had ran as cold, for all you could think to do was to silently pray to the gods that everything would be okay.
That your life would not end.
That you would still have a chance to become what you were supposed to be, and not die a lonely child by the hands of a beast.
Suddenly, its eyes snapped to your own, wide pupils turning into menacing slits as it gazed at you with malice, an animalistic growl rumbling in its chest, sharp teeth that could easy rip your throat out on full display.
Blade slipping from your numb hands, black dots spotted your vision as you promptly fainted from fear, accepting death in its imminent wake as your knees crash against the floor.
‘So this truly was the end’.. You thought to yourself as you body drifted lifelessly in a void of black, fingers outstretched as if reaching for something that would never be there.
Death was always something to think about, the burning question always attacking your mind as to how exactly you would die. You figured you’d be mawed to death by a wild boar of sorts, tusks tearing through the ligaments in your legs, praying you’d die from bleeding out before its teeth dug into your skin, eating you alive.
Or perhaps you’d die as most women do these days, walking alone before you’re kidnapped by an enemy.
Death by what could only be described as a demon never truly crossed your mind despite you being warned by it.
It seemed impossible.
Why would a demon want you of all people?
Though, you were.. an easy prey.
‘I’m sorry..’ you whispered to yourself, hoping your words of sincerity would cross the plains of existence and comfort those you would ultimately leave behind, which wasn’t many, and those you were soon to visit. You let your eyes slip shut to close off the suffocating abyss, embracing death.
“Ugh!” you groaned uncomfortably as a bright light assaulted your closed eyes, dragging you from your sleep.
No.. was this sleep?
You couldn’t be too optimistic..
Turning over, your back promptly blocked out the headache-inducing light, bare arm coming up to rub the drowsiness from your eyes as you blinked in your surroundings.
Well.
There wasn’t really anything to look at since you were facing a wall.
More specifically, your bedroom wall. A simple, faded, dark wood design.
Humming, your fingers tap against the tatami floor, chewing on your lip as you struggled to comprehend the beating of your own heart.
Were you alive?
It was hard to tell, you didn’t exactly have an accurate depiction of the afterlife.
Oh boy.
If you were dead, your family would kill you again no doubt for dying so early.
Of course, you can never please your ancestors, especially if you don’t leave something behind to continue your family’s lineage.
Maybe it was a good thing that you were dead, actually.
It didn’t take but a moment to notice the unusually loud sounds of nature attacking your ears and the wet, earthy scent flooding your nose.
The rain had ceased, and the morning birds were singing their usual cheerful tune.
The delicate jingle of your wind chime could be heard as it swayed ever so gently in the wind, having previously been frantically dinging all night long.
At least you were welcomed with open arms to your afterlife, after promptly being murdered by some weird fucking overgrown bat demon.
Who knows, maybe it wasn’t a demon.
Demons didn’t look like that? No, they were much creepier, but it wasn’t like you had anything real to compare it to.
Grumbling to yourself, you ran a hand through your messy hair, finding the oily, tangled mess utterly disgusting.
You really should take a bath soon.
Does the afterlife have baths?
You would throw a fit if not, you need your weekly soak, even if the water wasn’t that warm.
You’d be damned if you didn’t get a minute to relax and destress.
But then again, is there even stress here?
You’d have to find out later, for now, you should stop staring at your dirty old wall like some sort of lunatic, give this whole afterlife a go.
Slapping your bare thighs, eyes sparkling with determination you go to turn around before promptly screaming your heart out as fright squeezed the life out of you once more.
Large, snake-like green eyes bore into your own, only a hair length away.
Throat dry, you flung yourself back against the wall as you fought to scramble away, only for this creature to follow your every movement as you pushed yourself into a corner.
All you could see was green.
Green.
The type of green that reminded you of toxic flames erupting from an innocents body as it succumbs to possession.
You swore you were dead, but perhaps you have yet to meet your untimely end.
“Please!”
You cried, tears pouring down your raw cheeks as your arms wrapped protectively around your head, “Please don’t hurt me!” sobbing, you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting.
Waiting was always a horrifying game, you never knew when the waiting would stop and when you could breathe again.
But death never greeted you.
It was odd in a way.
It was as if you were expecting so much, that to not be given it was even more confusing.
Lips wobbling, you slowly peaked your eye open, breathless as you noticed this human-like creature suddenly at the other end of the room, clawed fingers tapping together at it shifted nervously from bare foot to foot.
…
What the-?
“I-i’m so sorry! I, I must’ve scared you so much… I’m really sorry!”
You stared in shock as this… man fell to his knees, thumping his forehead onto the floor in an apologetic bow, wings bent and folded at his sides.
You were speechless.
Truly, what the hell?
Was this even real?
You couldn’t tell anymore.
This all seemed so questionable.
It was certainly what crashed through your home- of fuck!
Gasping, you finally got a good luck at the true destruction.
Oh, your window was completely ruined! Broken wood stuck out everywhere, even looking at it made you feel like you were going to get a splinter!
How are you supposed to fix that when you haven’t a coin to your name?
Fuck.
Wait.
Oh, right!
There was!
This creature!
What the hell.
Breathing heavily, you fought to calm yourself down as you got a good look at this thing.
Its hair was messy, mud, twigs, and leaves entangling itself in its thick, dark green curls. It was hard to ignore the two large black horns atop its head, locks wrapping almost possessively around them.
Pointy ears caught your attention, a strange earpiece dangling from one with an upside-down, obsidian Christian cross.
Of course, what mostly caught your attention were the two large black wings sprouting from its scarred back, a thin black tail idly swaying back and forth.
His cream-colored skin was wet with water, dotted with freckles, and littered with scars varying in sizes.
All and all, you were dumbfounded.
Eyes bouncing around the room, you looked for your sword, desperate for some sort of protection, something you could say you tried to fight it off with if worse came to inevitable worse.
Oh!
There!
It was only a few feet away from you, and do as you must, you slowly crept forward, crawling on your hands and knees, sneaking around in hopes it wouldn’t lift its head and pounce on you.
Unfortunately, you pressed on a particularly creaky floorboard, and its head snapped up, fear causing you to jump for the sword before shakily aiming it at the demon once more.
“S-stay back!” you warned with a wavering voice, though you knew for a fact you looked like a crying child who could do no real harm.
Eyes stared into each other once more, this time from a safer distance. You were just about to speak again when it spoke up, its voice a calmer and not as frantic, “You’re holding that wrong.”
“Excuse me?” you answered without a beat, astonishment lacing your words as curiosity rose onto your face, how on earth did this thing know that?
“You’re holding the katana wrong,” it pointed at your hands on its handle, sharp black fingernail catching your ultimate attention, “You shouldn’t hold it just at the bottom, you need to space your hands out more. You would not be a threat to anyone if you hold it like that.”
Was… was it seriously lecturing you right now?
Eye twitching with annoyance, you slid your hands into the position described, “Just like that! Perfect!” it smiled brightly at you, green eyes slipping closed as it praised you like a teacher to a student who did good.
“Shut up!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet, flames of anger igniting within your body as you took a step forward.
With an inhuman screech, its wings folded protectively around its body, “Ack! I’m sorry! I just wanted to help you!”
What is going on?!
This, this wasn’t! This wasn’t supposed to be happening right now, right?? It was just about to kill you!
Could you even call it an "it", it looks like a man!
Is it a man? How do demons work!
Why is this happening right now!
You couldn’t wrap your head around it, and it was beyond infuriating!
“Who and what are you!” you snarled out, surprise blossoming in your eyes at the sheer ferocity you just displayed, but annoyance sure is a force to be reckoned with.
Wings cracking open ever so slightly, and you can just barely see an innocent green eye peaking out.
“M-My name is Midoriya.. Midoriya Izuku.. I’m.. I am a.. I know it sounds weird, but I’m a demon..”
So you were right.
This is a demon, just not one you were used to.
Yokai was what they’re called here, red, devilish creatures that sought destruction.
This certainly wasn’t a yokai, surely, despite his cheeks being a subtle red.
“I mean you no harm..” he meekly whispered, unfolding his large wings just to put his hands in the air, defenseless.
You weren’t convinced.
But then again, what were you supposed to do?
It wasnt as if you were taught how to handle a situation where an animal crashes into your house in the middle of a thunderstorm just to be there the next morning watching you sleep like some sort of creepy stalker.
When life gives you lemons, though, right?
Well, you hated lemons.
Or, at least these lemons.
No, that doesn’t apply here surely. This is a man, not a lemon.
Regardless, you were stuck on what action you should take.
Caution was definitely one. Though it hadn't harmed you in any way and was looking pretty beat up itself, you couldn’t run the risk of being too trusting too early only to end up with your throat ripped out.
There, of course, is still the question as to how it was able to enter holy lands such as these, lands protected from such devilish creatures.
They were supposed to combust into flames upon entering, right?
Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath, letting a scowl settle onto your face as you glared at this ‘Midoriya,’ “Why are you h-”
“Wait, wait wait!” he suddenly shouted out, arms waving frantically in front of his burning red face, “B-before uh! You do whatever you’re going to do, c-can you..” words were whispered under his breath as his arms wrapped childishly around his head, averting his gaze to the side, “Can you fix.. your garments…? Please?”
Stunned, you gaped at him, confused as to what he meant. Fix your garments? They were perfectly fine!
Only, they werent.
To your utter horror, your loose robe had begun to slip, completely exposing your left shoulder and the top of your breast.
It probably would have been more embarrassing if you didn’t still have a bit of adrenaline coursing through your veins, so naturally, you nonchalantly fixed up your robe.
Izuku sighed in relief, arms unraveling from his head.
“Now, what was your ques-”
“Why are you here.” You repeated, wanting definite answers as to what the fuck a demon was doing in these parts, and why it crashed into your beautiful house.
Hell, a bird just flew in! It’s going to be unimaginably cold in here tonight!
“Thats a uh,” he chuckled nervously, eyes drifting to look out into the forest covered in morning dew as he lightly scratched at his cheek with that sharp nail. He shifted so that he was sitting with his legs crossed over one another, tail flopping onto his lap to no doubt keep his decency.
He was clearly naked. How had you not noticed this before?
Where you too caught up in your head to realize this entire time he was bare?
And yet he had the gall to tell you to fix yourself up? It was hard to tell if he was being a gentleman or a fool.
Regardless, you ‘d never seen a naked man before. Perhaps muscular arms at most as village men helped their wives and older folk about.
But completely in the nude? Bare chest, legs out? Never.
You’d have to swallow down that bubble of nervousness, ignoring the heat on your cheeks, too eager to hear his answer rather than get wrapped up in ‘oh god he’s hot’ thoughts.
“A long story..”
“Everyone always says its a long story. Stop avoiding the question, and answer it before I cut your head off!” You bravely declared, only for his viridescent eyes flashing with mischief to flicker over to you with a momentary smirk on his lips.
It was almost as if his face turned into the personification of ‘is that so?’ and honestly, you do not blame him for reacting in such a way. You didn’t even know how to hold this old katana until a few minutes ago when told you how.
He was obviously trying to hide that display of cockiness as he coughed into his tattooed fist, “Well, if you’ve got the time-”
“I do.”
“H-how much?”
Eye twitching with aggravation, you promptly sat down on your knees, the sun-warmed tatami mat beneath you offering some comfort to your chilled bones.
“As long as you need.”
It didn’t take long for him to spit out his story, having no real choice in the matter.
Apparently, he was an exiled demon.
Who knew demons of all things could be banished from the underworld?
According to him, demons were the incarnation of evil, bred from human hatred and misery, taught to become a monster who wreaks havoc on the innocent and guilty, but he was different.
Since birth, or his ‘manifestation’ as he strangely called it, he was much kinder than those around him. Pure and sweet, hiding it behind a mask of cruelty in fear of the banishment now bestowed upon him.
So here he is in all his glory, a permanent seal of banishment printed in black ink onto his left pectoral in the form of broken kanji and crescent moons.
It was quite a lovely mark, really, but to him, it meant lonely freedom.
But, who knew demons can’t fly for shit in the rain? Certainly not him. Salty water splattered in his eyes, blinding him after a loud crack of lightning tore a scream from his throat - which explained the cries of an animal in pain.
And so he crashed through your home, a scared animal.
It was hard to tell if you were lucky or not, considering the charms didnt work at all.
At least you had a reason now, the mark he was branded with took away his demonic possession.
He was more of a human now than a demon, powers stripped away, not that he used them.
The only problem was, he looked like a demon.
Horns? Check. Reptillian eyes? Check. Lare, bat-like wings? Check. A tail that looks like it could easily stab someone? Check.
Not to mention the strange tattoos under his eyes and on his left arm, something he was supposedly born with and which was unique to himself only.
To you, the intricate tattoo looked like a bunny ensnared in thorny vines on his arm, but he was quick to take offense before laughing boyishly.
You were absolutely stuck on what you should do with him.
Tossing him to the snakes and boars would surely be too cruel, but keeping a demon in your house?
How maddening! You were lucky no one came around these parts to snoop in on whats inside.
Though, despite it being absolutely ludicrous, you allowed it. That is, because of his promise that he’d fix your window. Heavens know you certainly cant do it yourself.
He was insistent that you should sleep in the dusty guest bedroom, a smaller room with a mere futon and window, lacking the furniture you had, as he stood guard at the opening at night.
Demons apparently didnt sleep much?
Lucky you.
And so now, by events you never could have seen coming, you have a giant cat looming over your shoulder.
It was hard not to let your guard down so fast around him when he was so.. innocent. So open and kind, always willing to help around the house, and always quick to jump away if he began to do something wrong.
His curiosity was truly adorable, though.
Most days he’d stare in wonder at something new with an awestruck expression, eyes sparkling as he’d take a brush and ink, scribbling down notes about it in a foreign language on a piece of parchment, even attempting to draw it. He would always ask you about it later, showing you what he had written down, and if you could answer, you would. He’d always thank you profusely before writing down what you’d said.
You couldn’t understand what he wrote, it’d always be a mystery, but it certainly was an intricate language.
The only problem was he was so used to being naked all the time that it was an embarrassing struggle to get him to not only get into clothes but to also wear them. The most he was willing to wear was a sash from as robe wrapped around his waist. He disliked the constricting feeling of fabric clinging to his body, slipping out of it whenever you got him dressed.
It really did give you the chance to actually know what a man looked like, that, as well as study him. He was littered with scars ranging from small, faded, fresh, large, it truly was a painful sight the days you decided to dwell on them.
He had told you a few stories already about how he had gotten certain ones, and most stories were ones filled with pride and determination, winning fights or protecting others.
Each scar held an interesting story, except the one on his neck, which was gained from forgetting he had sharp nails in a fit of frustration.
As you found out later that first day of knowing him, his wings and horns had the ability to shrink, not only giving him more mobility inside the house, but also taking away that spike of anxiety whenever you’d see them near a fragile object. Besides, their tiny selves were oh so cute, not that you’d ever openly say that.
And so, two weeks had passed, and there was still that dreadful broken window. Izuku had been kind enough to clean up the mess he made, insisting to do so after your intense interrogation, so it truly was an out of place marker of destruction now.
Its stay was to be expected, considering you didn’t have a replacement. No, you’d need to buy one.
Oh, buying. A poor man’s nightmare.
But as it turns out, demons are quite good at finding valuable things in the wilderness.
Or at least, that’s what he explained to you when he showed up one morning covered in dirt and mud, twigs all in his hair, boring an appearance similar to his first arrival, showing off a handful of silver and copper coins, as well as two golden ones.
In short, you were too busy drooling at the sight to care about how exactly he got it.
Travelers were often dropping coins anyway, so it surely doesn’t matter. Besides, his accomplished smile was far too sweet to tarnish with questions.
“You’re dirty, again.” you bluntly pointed out after thanking him for his find, pouring the coins into a small, worn pouch containing only two copper. Tying it up, you were quick to place it back on the shelf, hiding it behind a book of heroic tales.
“O-oh.. I didn’t notice..” he laughed awkwardly in that boyish manner he seemed to always have, large hands immediately going to brush off the caked mud on his legs and arms.
“Absolutely not, mister! I just cleaned!” Scolding him, you grabbed his wrist before he had the chance, glaring up into his surprised, foresty green snake-like eyes.
“If you’re going to shake your dirty little self off, go do it outside!”
At times, you acted more like a mother than you did anything else with him. But to be fair, he did come to this practical new world without any true knowledge of its customs, what you can and cannot do. Surely not making the house someone let you graciously stay in dirty was a universal thing.
He openly stared at you, innocent eyes glistening and wobbly lips reminding you of a kicked puppy.
Ouch.
“S-sorry,” he promptly apologized, attention snapping to your smaller hand still gripping his wrist, pink dusting over his chubby, freckled cheeks.
Sighing, you patted his large arm, picking up on the way it made his wings flutter, “It’s alright. Just go pat yourself off outside. I’ll set up a bath for you. I don’t need dirt everywhere in here again.”
Nodding eagerly, a bright smile overtook his face, showing off his unusually sharp canines.
Perhaps you would’ve been afraid had he shown them off in a vicious way again, but he was far too excited at the prospect of submerging his body in heated water to seem at all threatening.
You watched for a split second as he ran off, head instantly whipping to the side when he suddenly threw off the measly piece of fabric wrapped around his thin waist, tail curling around his muscular leg that you definitely haven’t been staring at throughout all this time.
You would have yelled after him for stripping if you weren’t so flustered.
You’d doubt you’d ever get used to it, seeing him nearly naked all the time. Artists were right to draw demons naked it seems, they truly didnt have any shame.
A blessing and a curse.
Grumbling, you began the long process of filling the metal tub with buckets of water from the well out back, igniting a small flame beneath it so the water would be warm upon his arrival.
Speaking of which, he was taking an unusual amount of time.
Surely you didn’t have to be worried, but it had been at least half an hour at this point, right? It doesn’t take that long to brush yourself down, does it?
Unease built in your gut, and you began pacing around the house, chewing anxiously at your fingernails as the old boards creaked beneath your feet.
He was very capable of handling himself, he was a fairly strong and intimidating soul, but what if he ran into someone? Your house wasn’t too far from the village, it was very plausible that he could’ve run into a hunter!
What if he was dead!
Oh gods, was he dead?!
And you had just put so much effort into running a bath for him!
Should you look for him?
What if he doesnt come home?
Maybe he’s lost?
Or stuck in a trap!
There were so many different possibilities, that your feet began to move on their own, the long sleeves of your kimono flapping behind you as you rushed towards the door where he had jumped out of, only to slam into a much larger and sturdier frame the minute you were about to exit.
“Hyah!” you cried out from surprise, being knocked backward.
Two hands quickly caught your flailing arms before you had the chance to land flat on your ass.
Looking up in a panic, you were relieved to see the familiar, warm green gaze of Izuku.
“Careful!” he was now the one to scold, playfully pouting his reddened lips. Breathless from worry and slamming into him, you jumped to your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.
“D-don’t tell me to b-be careful!” whining, embarrassed at the fact that you had been pressed so close to him, you adjusted your oversized kimono that had slipped ever-so-slightly at the rough collision.
“Mmm~ Be careful?” he teased, leaning down just to purr beside your flushed face his cold, dangling earring tickling the skin at your neck.
Smacking his shoulder, you let out an annoyed huff, only to screech a second after, blood burning your cheeks as you turned away so quickly you could hear the sleeves slap against his body, “Put some clothes on, damnit!!”
“I thought I had to be naked for a bath?” It was annoying how you could tell he was pulling your strings, no doubt his head was tilting as he batted his lashes at your smaller frame, like he always did when given the chance to be a tease.
Growling to yourself, you pointed off to the direction where the bath was prepared, desperate to escape from this trap you had set yourself in, “Then go bathe, you dirty, dirty boy!” At this point, you were on the verge of flat out shoving him into the bathroom, wanting to escape from his nude self.
You’d clearly have to start forcing him to wear clothes more, putting your foot down if he was to stay in this house.
You did not need a heart attack every morning at seeing a naked man waiting eagerly for you to awake, only for a wide smile to blossom on his face, tail thumping loudly on the ground and wings flapping like a bird when he noticed you blink your eyes open.
Of course, a pillow was always thrown at him, the plea for him to wear some clothes always on your tongue, but alas, you were lucky if he wore his piece of fabric, that flimsy sash you had half as mind at throwing away just so he would be forced to wear something else.
“O-okay..” his shy self seeped back in, his fingers visibly poking together, an anxious habit you presumed. Feet thumping against the floor, he traveled down the hall and to the bath, a loud gasp echoing down the corridor when he noisily jumped in, water sloshing. “So warm!”
“Please clean up your mess-!”
It was almost like dealing with a child, except this child was hundreds of years older than you and a grown-ass man, if that was a positive or negative- you’d never know.
It wasn’t until the next day you got him to fully wear a kimono, an old one your father had left behind. It fitted him, truly, black with green vines snaking down the sides and wrapping around the cuffs. It was a nightmare to get him in it, though.
Not that he wasn’t obedient, no, he truly did try his best to please you, but perhaps it just wasn’t something he could easily comprehend just yet, not to mention you had to somehow squeeze his wings into the outfit.
His tail was easy to hide due to the kimono reaching the floor, but thank god for hats because truly it was impossible to hide his horns any other way.
But the poor man was clearly unhappy, lips pouty and eyes droopy as he shifted from one foot to the other.
“They.. feel weird..” he tried to explain, pulling at the neckline, only for you to swat his hand away. “You’ll get used to it.” you reassured.
Grabbing the coin pouch you had placed on the shelf, you made him carry a sack over his shoulder, something to not only hide his lumpy wing covered back but to also carry the supplies you’d be purchasing soon.
It would be impossible to hide his facial markings, so you didn’t attempt. The thought of smearing mud on his cheeks did cross your mind, but alas, that would look suspicious. If only tattoos weren’t so taboo, and if only he didn’t have such suspicious ones.
Everyone in the village knew you, knew your story, and they knew you were alone. You had no doubts they’d ask who this mysterious stranger was, or at least openly gawk at him. You could avoid certain nosey fuckers, but at times it was unavoidable
Grabbing his sleeve, you led him out the front door, quick to slide it shut before walking down the dirt trail.
Perhaps you could say he was a distant relative? You didn’t have any distant relatives, so that would, unfortunately, be a bust. You placed your finger on your chin, thinking as you allowed your body to walk down the familiar path on autopilot, head in the clouds as you thought.
Curse these nosy ass people, already knowing everything about you!
Perhaps he was a traveler you found lost in the storm? Or he found you?
No.. that wouldn't explain the markings..
You needed to come up with something!
Grrr!
Oh! Oh! Wait!
“Midoriya..” you began, tilting your head curiously towards him.
His lips pressed into a thin line, already recognizing that mischievous glint in your mesmerizing (e/c) eyes.
Was that even a way he should describe them? Perhaps not, but he would be a fool to disagree with the statement formed in his head.
Gulping, he stuttered out nervously, focus shifting from you to the path in front of his wooden sandal-clad feet, shoes he wasnt too happy with, “Y-yes..?”
“Do you know what ninja’s are?”
You’re a genius.
“I, uhm, I’ve heard about them..why?”
“Mmm.. what have you heard?”
“Just that they’re skilled with a blade and sneaking around..” He looked at you dumbly, eyebrow arched as you only smiled back at him, adding to his own confusion.
“You’re gonna be a ninja, then.” You boldly declared out, catching his arm as he suddenly stumbled over a rock as he sputtered.
“W-wha?! B-but I- I’m n-not a ninja!”
“I know that, but listen! The people at the village don’t! I have no doubts they’re going to poke and prod at you, wondering who you are.. A ninja that stumbled upon my house in the middle of a storm would explain your sudden appearance and your facial tattoos, and Hell, even your eyes!”
Filled with a sense of victory, you grinned ear to ear, amazed at how you had come up with such a solution on the spot.
You truly were creative.
A gift, maybe.
Oh, man! All the village women are going to be so jealous! Always quick to say you’d end up alone, but boy were they wrong! Here you have it, a ninja demon following you around! Suck on that, widows!
Wanting to gauge his reaction, seeing as he went oddly silent, you looked over at him, only to stop in your tracks and have your arms go limp by your sides.
“W-wha…” face scrunching up, you stared at him, bewildered. He was pointing at his cheek, smirking at you, showing off the fact that not only had his eyes gained a human-like pupil, which now looked odd on him, but the fact that the markings now looked like smudged paint.
It was dumbfounding.
“What the hell happened to your face..” trailing off, you couldnt help but scratch at your head, running possibilities through your mind but coming up with no true solution.
“Demons have the ability to switch from eyes that can see well in the dark to eyes that cannot! I forgot about it until you pointed them out, to be honest! So thank you for that!”
He was smiling boyishly again, only to flush deeply as you grabbed his face, soft, small hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to your height as you examined his features.
“(Y-Y/N).?!” he squeaked, breath catching in his throat as you peered deeply into his surprised green orbs, face so close he could feel your nose brushing against his, and all he could do was stand still.
His hot breath was ragged as it fanned across your face, and though he knew you were examining the sudden change in appearance, he couldn’t help the way his heart hammered in his chest. You were so, so close!! He swore if he just.. leaned forward ever so slightly, he could.. Catch your lips in a sweet kiss. He glanced down, focus going hazy as he zeroed in the way your lips shined in the sunlight trickling just barely through the gaps of leaves above him, forcing his own lips to twitch in anticipation.
Would it be so bad if he, hypothetically speaking, kissed you right now?
Oh, what a thought!
He couldnt tell. Hell, he couldnt even think.
Your scent was so intoxicating at this moment, flooding his senses, and it left his devilish desires to want more, fingers inching towards your waist.
He was knocked out of his strangely lustful thoughts when you repeatedly papped his cheek to catch his attention.
Body going stiff, his hands flung back to his own sides before jerking his head up to look at you once more. Had you been talking to him? Did you say something? He didnt know, his attention hyperfocused on… something else at the time.
Your aggravated tone cut through his body like a freshly sharpened steel blade, noticing the way your face scrunched up once more at finding he hadnt heard you the first time.
“I said, what did you do to your eye markings?”
“H-huh?!” he stuttered out, only to internally slap himself as he took a moment to process the question, “I- I just.. smeared some mushed up black berries on m-my cheek..”
It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially considering his right hand is still sticky with its pigmented juice, droplets dripping from his fingers. He had half a mind to lick them up, sucking on the digits just to gauge your reaction as you watched him so intensely. No! Bad, bad Izuku! Stop that!
“I-I thought it could be.. like some sort of ink.. b-but I didn’t have any ink on me so- so I grabbed some berries..”
“Is that why you smell so sweet? I was tempted to lick your cheek for a minute there.” Confessing that, you ended the conversation by spinning around and walking on. Delays were never good, especially since you didn’t have all day, and you definitely wanted to sleep in your own room tonight. The guest one was.. a bit too stuffy for your liking.
He followed you, huffily licking at the juice covering his hand and ignoring the stickiness coating his lips and cheeks.
Next time, he would be sure to use a sort of paint or something. At least then it could be marked off as some sort of fashion trend and not actual tattoos. After all, what innocent man had tattoos?
Of course, for his kind, they were common and apart of your identity, but here? It was a symbol of bad luck it seemed. Impurity. Not that he wasnt impure.
“Walk faster!” You called back to him, alerting the green-haired man lost in his thoughts that he had been walking too slow.
“C-coming!”
It wasnt too long before you had finally reached the entrance to the village, taking a moment to look over the old wooden arch covered in vines before walking past. Your sandals, as well as his own, clopped against the cobblestone road.
Though it was early morning, and the sun was barely even awake, townsfolk were already bustling through the place. Kids were running around barefoot, doing chores or having fun, farmers were wheeling in their goods in squeaky carts, calling out for business, and shops were being opened.
Distantly, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the pungent scent of meat being cooked sweets being baked in the air, only making you drool at the thought of consuming something so tasty after eating home-grown vegetables for so long.
The village was dead silent at night but in the morning? It was warm and welcoming, filled with friendly, smiling faces and gossiping mothers as they hung clothes out to dry.
You swore you could even hear the light picking at an instrument and the barking of dogs far off on the other side of town.
Birds chirped happily in the sky, singing their age-old songs as they searched for someone to love.
It truly was a breath of fresh air, the friendly atmosphere far different than the much quieter one in the mountain.
You missed it.
You were convinced for a while the reason you stayed away so long was to quite literally teach a demon manners, but you were quick to regret your mistake upon reentering this world. The energy of the place stabbed at your heart, and your fingers itched with the desire to stay here for as long as possible. Perhaps even buy some bread while youre here. Heaven knows you need more ingredients, and with the jingle of the pouch you carried ringing in your ear with every step, you were reminded you could actually afford it for once.
Sure, cooking and chopping vegetables was alright, a fun pass time that brought you comfort and worth, but damn did you miss being lazy for a change.
Besides, you now had the manpower to carry quite a lot, right?
Speaking of, that same demon was currently hiding behind you, hands clutching at your kimono sleeve as his shy face barely peeked out from behind your head.
“Are.. you alright?” you asked hesitantly, worried that perhaps he was scared or something set off some sort of weird sixth scent.
“I-i’m okay..! T-there's just so many people around.. I’m.. a bit..” he trailed off, looking down at his feet once more.
“Shy.” you concluded, nodding your head in understanding.
This was the first time he would be around other humans besides yourself, so it made sense why he was a bit timid.
In all honesty, it just made him even cuter and less threatening, not that he ever truly was as you came to realize the more you got to know this fluffy boy.
That's not to say it didn't also fill you with a motherly need to protect him, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, your cheeks couldn't help but flush with him being so close, a reaction you still were trying to get used to, despite being up close and personal not ten minutes ago. Then again, that was on your terms, wasn’t it? This? This was certainly out of the blue. So it made sense.
Walking along, you waved to the occasional person, a plethora of “good morning!”’s and “I’m alright, how are you?” fleeing from your person with each minimal interaction. It was a blessing no one has yet to question who the mysterious stranger with dripping berry juice on his face was, but it certainly made a lot of people stop in their tracks and look your way.
How flustering… you thought to yourself as you pushed on, eventually grabbing Izuku’s wrist and pulling him along with you.
“The shop is just down here.” you told him, to which he nodded his head, far too shy to speak. Hell, you were sure he was close to chewing his own clothes from nerves at this point with that look of hesitation, fear, and child-like curiosity in his eyes.
It wasn't hard to miss the way his head whipped around, taking in the new environments with near open arms, visually studying each and every object he saw, but never asking a question about it, almost as if he was afraid speaking with glee and wonder would cause too much of a ruckus, attracting even more attention.
You had no doubts he would drown you in them once you got back home, or maybe even in a few minutes if something utterly mind-blowing caught his attention, but for now, you had to focus on gathering things.
You had eventually made it to the repair shop, full intentions on buying the wood needed to replace the frame, as well as a new window covering. It was old and damn near rotting off the wall anyway, it truly was needed.
Though it certainly was unusual to have such a thing in a bedroom where someone could easily break-in. But it was the mountains, so there wasn’t much to fear. After all, who in their right minds would wander a forest in the middle of the night just to break into a poor woman’s home?
Leaving Izuku to stay outside to collect himself as he shook like a leaf in the wind, you stepped inside the open shop, immediately greeted with the smell of freshly chopped wood and burning embers, a fire burning in the back no doubt. This was a supply shop for home repair, after all.
“Ah! Little Miss (L/N)! I haven't seen you in a while, my dear. Where have you been?” An elderly grandfather emerged from the back, hand pressed to the wall to lean against it. For his age, he was surprisingly in stable conditions, no doubt from the strenuous work he’d done all his life.
It was hard to forget that the elders here always had an eye open, so naturally, he would be the first to question your sudden disappearance when given a true chance. So far you’d only seen people your age and children out and about doing deeds for the older folk and earning their dinner.
Just as you were about to answer, you were cut off, “Oh? Who’s this?”
Not bothering to glance back, already knowing full well it was the curious Izuku who finally manage to swallow his anxieties and peak in, “He’s-”
“A ninja!” he exclaimed, jumping to your side excitedly as you huffed in irritation at being cut off two times in a row.
It certainly was odd that he spoke out so enthusiastically, considering he had been nothing but reluctant to speak the entire time you were in the village, but what was even more shocking was how he continued the plan of referring to him as a ninja.
A stupid plan you now came to realize, sounding out of place. You should’ve gone with a better idea and not have acted so cockily when you came up with it on the spot.
Oh, the familiar feeling of regret.
It was strange though, especially since you were sure he was against the idea in the first place, so why had he gone along with it?
Truly, you couldn't exactly care less. This was his mess now.
“A.. ninja.?” Furukawa, the old man, questioned, giving the both of you a perplexed look. “We haven't seen one around these parts since I was a but boy. What is a ninja doing here of all places? A meek little village like this?”
Oh. That’s right.
You had forgotten they didn't thrive out here in the country, but in the city and for generals leading wars.
What was a ninja doing out here indeed. Boy were you not bright when it came to thinking on the spot.
Leaning back and crossing your arms, you decided to let the excited demon explain for you, since you certainly hadn't a clue what to say.
“I’m here for no particular reason, sir! I had gotten lost in the mountains during that thunderstorm a few weeks back, and I just so happened to stumble upon the (L/N)’s home. I was lucky she was willing to take me in, for I had injured myself and needed time to heal. I truly owe her my life, for I doubt I would have been able to find a safe place to rest and recover that night if not for her generosity. I vowed to return the favor, and you know ninjas, never one to break a promise, and so I am here to help gather things to repair something I had broken. Though I’m sure we have bad rep around these parts nowadays, I assure you I have no intention of harming anyone. I vowed to protect the innocent, and that is what I will do! I’ll fight the evil of these lands with my own two-!”
You snapped him out of his rambling by gripping at his arm, surprised at how he had managed to come up with what to say so quickly. Hell, his eyes were even hardened with determination. He was very convincing.
It definitely made you suspicious of what his true intentions were, if he actually wanted to be a ninja of all things or if he was playing a part and not realizing the potential consequences.
Oh well?
What was even more surprising was how the old man wept, dramatically wiping his aged, teary eyes. “Oh, you good man! We need more men like you around here! My son is a lazy lump of bricks who won’t even help out around here”
“I am here now! Allow me to assist whenever!” Izuku stated righteously, fist raised high and mighty.
At this point, you were just a background character in some sort of weird show as these two practically danced around each other with declarations and tears.
Shaking your head, you quickly cut them off, needing to get things done today and not mess around any longer, “I was wondering if you had the material for a new window?”
“Oh! A window!”
“Yes.. I need a replacement for the one he had broken.”
“You youngsters are always breaking windows these days..” he complained, wiping at his brow before hobbling to the back again.”One moment please.”
Nodding, despite him not even seeing, you waited patiently in near awkward silence, teetering back and forth on your wooden heels.
“Did I uh..” the green-haired man's apprehensive whisper barely caught your ear, “did I go overboard, you think?”
That question was enough to bring giggles bubbling out over your throat, only for him to frantically wave his arms about in front of you, “I-i’m serious!”
Your giggles soon turned into laughs, only making his cheeks redden from embarrassment before he wrapped his arms around his head.
“Just,” you wheezed, “Just a bit, Midoriya.”
You weren’t used to being near people so passionate and enthusiastic about things, especially things made up. It was peculiar and yet it still brought a grin to your face.
Groaning, he looked off to the side, waiting patiently for the old man to return and to end his suffering as you continuously poked at his rosy cheek.
“I think you’d make a great ninja.” you whispered in his ear, breath tickling his skin and making baby hairs stand on end as you leaned over his crouched form, his hands resting on his knees as if to calm himself, unknowingly leaving him wide open for teases he deserved after what had happened the day before.
Gulping down the lump of nervousness in his throat, ridding himself of thoughts he shouldnt be having again, his head whipped back to look at you, eyes glimmering with excitement, “Ah, really?!”
You were unsure of how he would become one, but, “Yes.” you smiled gently, knowing full well already that he could do anything he set his mind to, a stubborn yet determined man he was.
“No kanoodlin in my shop!” Furukawa had suddenly appeared, damn near hitting the two of you upside the head with a stick.
You were quick to pay him for the materials, nearly tripping over yourself with giggles as Izuku looks nothing short of terrified with how the elderly man glared at him, no doubt piercing through his meek soul. Once you finished loading and securing the supplies in the shoulder bag, you grabbed two of his fingers before pulling him out of the shop with a friendly wave towards the grouchy old man who begrudgingly waved back.
A horse trotted in front of the both of you as you walked out, a loud wagon filled with hay creaking behind it as you continued on down the road in the opposite direction.
“That was.. nerve wracking..” Izuku sighed, one hand clutching the strap to the bag tightly whilst the other goes back to holding your sleeve, no longer cowering behind you as he openly gawks at the abundance of people strolling through the area, as well as eyeing up all the animals wandering about and making all sorts of noises.
“It was a pretty typical interaction to me,” you confessed, shrugging nonchalantly as he groans heavily.
“Are we heading back now?” he questioned, itching to beg you to let him stay if just for a bit longer. He was excited about being out like this, reading many stories revolving around normalities such as these. He had never experienced such a thing before, and it was thrilling, to say the least.
He felt as if he was on cloud nine, observing so many new things and being up close to other things he thought he would never get to see or touch, or, well, smell.
It was as if he himself was in one of the many books he’d read, skipping happily through each page as his wings twitched beneath the fabric with excitement, luckily covered up by the large sack of supplies.
He didn’t want to leave, but he would if you didn't like the idea of staying.
He could always come back with you another time, after all.
But damn did the prospect of going home at this moment dampen his cheery mood. Hell, he could even feel his wings pressed against him droop from inside the kimono at the prospect of doing so.
He was really hoping you wouldn't say yes.
He’d cross his fingers if he could.
“No.”
“Ah, well alright.. we can come back another time right?" It was as if he didn't hear you, too used to being put down and denied that happiness swelling inside his chest.
He continued to walk forward, head bowed down as he stared sadly at the rocks only to be yanked back as your hand slapped onto his wrist for the third time that day. He could get used to that if he was being honest.
He looked back at you, staring blankly as he tried to figure out why you had stopped and why you were giving him such a baffled look.
Had he done something wrong?
Said something wrong?
Or maybe his mere presence had annoyed you.
He hadn't the slightest clue, and he could only helplessly stare at you as he awaited a reason as to why you stopped, heartbeat hammering in his chest and fear squeezing his lungs, rendering him unable to speak.
You raised your eyebrow in question, and that's when it hit him like a rock.
You had said no, not yes!
Oh geez!
That sounds so backwards honestly!
“A-ah! I’m sorry! Oh, I thought y-you said yes!” he screeched, fumbling over his words and inwardly fighting himself at being so stupid.
He was about to go on and ramble out an apology, his nerves strangling him alive, but you had easily cut him off, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to stay out and about for a bit longer. I wanted to show you some things, and get some ingredients if you don’t mind?"
Not that you would really give him the option to mind, besides- you knew that far off look in his eyes too well, it was the same look of wonder in your own eyes when you were a child.
It truly was endearing, you couldn't help but want to indulge in it for a bit, even if you were going to be doing other things anyway.
To hell with putting the window up this evening, perhaps the next. For now, you just wanted a break from having to train a demon by- well. Informing one instead.
“Really!” he exclaims, face immediately lighting up, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. He's suddenly jumping for joy, shoes making a loud clacking noise that catches the attention of village-folk once again, much to your introverted horror. “Y-you have places you want to show me!? O-oh gosh! Can we go see them now? Oh, there are so many things I want to see here! So many things I’ve read about!”
“Midoriya..” you called out to him hopelessly, wanting to calm him down.
“I want to see a bakery!! To- to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries! I can smell them right now,” he sniffed at the air, eyes slipping closed for a second, tongue poking out as he drooled, “they- they smell so good! I’ve always wondered how they mix ingredients together and fire them to make something so delicious.. How do they know what ingredients to use? How did they find those ingredients? I want to know! Do they memorize how to do it, you think??! And, and a blacksmiths shop! Swords are forged from fire, it sounds so magical, but there must be logic of some kind behind it! Logic I don’t quite understand yet but want to! I want to see it in action, know how they’re made in the first place. It’s from melting rocks right? Or, or metal?! How do they shape the swords? Which material and technique is best to use for the best result? Is that loud banging the making of swords right now? Or something else?”
“Midoriya…”
“Is there a library around here? No, no I guess there wouldn't be one here.. books? I want to know all about the culture of these lands, in more detail! I, I want to see how people's minds work, how they write their feelings or facts down on pages. You can learn a lot from a person based on how they tell a story, you know! Oh! And I also-!”
He excitedly jabbered on, drawing laughter and gleeful smiles from the people as they passed, only fueling to the heat on your cheeks as they whispered about the cute, excited man rambling on about different aspects of regular life. It was almost too much to understand or even comprehend, let alone answer all in one go. His words were flying over your head from how fast he was speaking.
And so, you simply stood there, off to the side of the road, wringing your hands together as you let him express his pure delight with an abundance of words.
He was a curious person like you’d thought to yourself before, that was for sure.
It got to the point where you were sure nearly five or so minutes had passed, and you didn't want to see how long this could go on for.
Because you knew it could go on for a long while, having been with him for a few weeks now.
It was a loveable habit of his, one that he always was quick to shut himself up for and apologize profusely, which always pulled at your heartstrings. He had clearly been put down in his past for being so wild, curious, and excited, and that was nothing short of saddening.
You didn't want him to feel like he couldn't talk, or ask questions, hell, even be enthusiastic like he always was. It brought a hint of sugar and spice to your plain life.
So, perhaps another time, but in front of a multitude of onlookers, ready to prod into your lives from how hard they were staring? Absolutely not, unfortunately.
Grabbing his sleeve, you yanked at his, successfully pulling him from his thoughts as his focus snapped over to where your hand was, “Huh?” he asked obliviously, turning to look at you with a tilted head but still cheery smile, green bangs brushing over his eyebrows, making you want nothing more than to sweep them away from his face.
Physical contact, as you learned, was always a better way to get him to focus rather than to snap him from his thoughts with words of your own. Words always made him flinch back and shut himself off, but soft touches somehow never did, keeping the same energy he started with even as he looked at you with wonder. It would often make you wonder why he flinched, or reacted in such a heartbreaking way whenever you’d cut him off with your own words, perhaps an untold story from his past waiting to be unraveled or kept under lock and key. Some things were best not to remember, after all.
Though he told you he was happy to be gone from the place he never truly considered home, you still held some minor doubts.
It was always the kind ones who smiled the brightest like a star in the sky that had the most to hide.
“Do you want to go and experience some of those things that you mentioned? I’m pretty hungry myself, so we could try a bakery right now if you would like? The one here is owned by a nice family, recipes passed down for generations. They got a pretty good grasp of things”
His brows quickly flew up, momentary shock flashing in his eyes before being covered by embarrassment, he had just now realized he rambled on. A momentary delay it seemed.
“S-sure.. eheh..” he chuckled nervously, hand squeezing the bags strap tightly once again as he used his other hand to wrap around his torso. He certainly was bashful for someone who was ‘bred from darkness’, if that red on his cheeks and how he avoided eye contact were anything to go by.
“Let’s go, then.” placing your hand on the much larger one glued to his side, you slowly peeled it away before gingerly holding it, ignoring the stuttered gibberish that trickled from his mouth at the action as you led him to the place that made saliva drip from his mouth.
At the end of the day, you were walking home on sore feet, arms clutching at a flimsy woven basket someone graciously gave you for free containing foods you needed to stock up on.
Izuku, on the other hand, was practically skipping, words flowing from his lips like a waterfall as he reviewed what he learned today, occasionally looking over at your tired form to make sure you were alright. He had offered multiple times to carry the basket, even going as far as trying to grab it, but you refused, wanting to do so yourself since he was now carrying a basket and a bag of his own.
Stubborn, ironically, was the way he described you with a pouty lip, and you had to agree.
It truly was a shame you weren't able to put the new window today, considering you wanted to sleep in your own room, but there was always tomorrow. For now? You were exhausted.
So much so you weren't even sure you could cook dinner.
Demons sure did have a lot of unrelenting energy. You were being dragged around all day, only leading a few times to the places you wished to show him- you didn't even get to show him everything due to his mind moving faster than either one of you could keep up.
Once making it back to the house, you managed to convince the energetic guy to at least continue wearing his hakama after he threw off his hat and the top of his kimono, successfully freeing his wings.
Things on the floor, he gets on his hands and knees, stretching his arms and back out like a cat, his wings flapping out like a birds as he flexed the poor things.
It was horrible how he had to stuff them in his clothing all day, and it truly did make you feel bad, knowing he must have held a form of discomfort all day, hiding it seamlessly.
Perhaps you could buy more clothes for him next time, or even fabric to weave together a kimono made solely for him.
That would take a long while, but it would be cute, right?
You didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.
You stopped in your tracks as this thought crossed your mind, a perplexed expression making its way onto your tired face, when had you started referring to this house as his home as well?
Had you grown so accustomed to him already that when thinking of this place, or where he lives, this old house comes to mind?
Or did your loneliness fight your conscious to bring forth such a thought out of comfort?
For the first time in years, you weren't alone. You haven't thought much about it until this moment and in a tired state of mind no less.
It was confusing, especially considering you didn't even know when you had started picking up the habit.
Looking back at him, your mouth fell from its straight-lined self to that of awe, your eyes reflecting the same thing.
The golden rays of a honey sunset dripped in through the open door, illuminating the man covered in scars, freckles and tattoos from behind, kissing at his soft, smooth skin and wrapping him in a cocoon of ease and light as he sat there, bathing in the warmth it provided.
His eyes were closed, wings relaxed and hands resting on his thighs as he took the moment in, inhaling deeply as a breeze filtered in, making his curls sway ever so slightly in a mesmerizing way.
Despite what he was or what he used to be, only one word came to your mind as you gazed at hi, ‘angelic.’
You couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid, for all you saw at this moment was a smiling man happily enjoying himself after a long day of bouncing off the walls.
You couldn't stop staring, even if it was rude, his presence enrapturing in the sweetest of ways.
You felt your own body warming at the sight, an innocent blush dancing on your cheeks, only to deepen as his eyes fluttered open, scanning the room, just to fall on you.
His pupils were back to their familiar, snake-like state, but yet they held so much compassion and kindness as if they were just as human as yours were, despite being entirely different.
Neither of you said anything, just staring into each other’s eyes in a way that should've felt weird or awkward.
But nothing about this felt awkward, in fact, it felt natural.
Like you were meant to be entranced by those addicting pools of green, glimmering with the yellows bouncing off the walls just to show your own silhouette in them. It was like staring into a never-ending forest with vines that wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a secure hug, branches of trees filled with fresh leaves swaying in the calming wind behind you as the scent of salt from the creek not too far away made you relax in their embrace.
You weren't aware how long the both of you stared at each other, but one thing was for sure, neither of you minded it, his own smile and reassurance in his gaze is enough to wash away any concerns.
The sudden loud calling of a bird snapped you out of your trance, attention flickering to the door just to see two birds chatting with each other.
“(Y/N)?” he had called out, voice laced with concern but dripping with sugary sweetness and desperation that was all too much to handle after such an intense moment, despite it just being eye contact.
But then again, the eyes were the doorway to the soul, weren't they? And it felt like much more than just that.
Regardless, you turned, ignoring his calls as you rushed to your room, hurriedly closing the door just to slide down it.
Hand clutching at the fabric above your beating heart, you just now noticed how your breath was caught in your throat, and how your heart was hammering wildly.
You breathed heavily, running fingers through your wild hair as you fought to make sense of what just happened.
The truth was, you didn't know.
#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#izuku x you#midoriya izuku x reader#deku x reader#bnha#izumonth collab#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academi#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha deku#x reader#izuku midoriya x you#midoriya x reader#midoriya x you
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He Loves Love (3/3)
Pairing: Baekhyun x reader
Genre: solo singer! AU
Word count: 4K+
Warnings: none! just a playful Baek!
--- Please make sure to read the the notes at the end! ---
Masterlist
tags: @iloveagain @buttercupbbh @wooya1224 @baekberrie (sorry if I left out someone? its been ages since i updated and I didnt know if its okay to tag those who commented on chap. 2 :( didnt want to be rude ><)
1 <<< 2 <<< 3
It was the day of the release. The release of his magazine cover.
The PR went… mad.
“Listen, sweetie, editor, I don't think we will have enough pieces. The damn thing is literally going to be sold out in a matter of hours.”
You received this call before lunch time. Lunch time was very early on in the day. So why was Baekhyun's magazine cover about to be sold out in the entirety of Korea on the same day of the release date?
“Erm, yeah about that. I am an editor, just like you said. You need to call the-”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted but there wasn't an inch of impatience in her voice. “What I am trying to say is - congratulations! You did a great job!”
It took you a moment to realize what she was saying, because she was right. Your participation in this issue was big; after all you took care of the props and settings and you were looking over his pictures during the photoshoot. Out of nowhere, your heartbeat sped up. “Oh, thank you! That's very kind of you, but I still need to improve a lot-”
In that moment, the happy ding! that never failed to make you all trembly and nervous, sounded on your desk.
Waiter: miss editor am I seeing correctly????? wowow ihavenowords
Waiter: did you just make me sell out your magazine?????? ihavenowords
Waiter: did you save yourself at least one piece??? huhuuhuhuuu ihavenowords ><
Waiter: i think someone just made themselves a good name in the mag industry ^^ congratulations!!!
Waiter: does that mean i will get to see you? hmmm maybe to give a congratulatory bouquet of flowers???? 🤭🤭🤭 🌹💐🌺
Biting your lip quickly to suppress the happy grin, you quickly attended to the phone call, chatting a bit more with the PR lady. Honestly, you didn't like to talk to them much as they were all over the place, too demanding and didn’t have a great understanding of a creative mind. Thankfully, you didn't have to deal with them too often.
It hadn't been that long since your last meeting with Baekhyun. His kisses on your cheek and one kiss on your forehead seemed to be still burning on your skin, sometimes making you drag the pad of your index finger over the mentioned places, needing some sort of closure from him that you had yet to receive.
Texting now was a full on habit between you, causing you to become sad, disappointed and even anxious if he wouldn’t reply that soon, worried he changed his mind about you, and his feelings towards you. Because even though you admitted to him that you liked him, he was being still very cautious, still very polite with you, as if there was some sort of invisible line between you two that he was scared to cross, for some reason.
Trying to look at it from his point of view, there were many risks of him wanting a relationship with you, and you couldn't not agree. If anything, you were being thankful for his thoughtfulness and carefulness, for if he messed up even the tiniest bit around you and your secret meetings of a blooming start of a relationship, he would not see the end of the hate, and neither would you. Heck, his career was on the line.
You managed to reply to his playful messages that went on and on, before you would have to dive into another cover magazine plan that you had to start thinking through.
Me: I think I should congratulate YOU! the most wanted man in Korea it seems ;)
Me: these days i have some important meetings… an upcoming cover… im definitely doing overtime today :( when is it good for you? I will try to arrange my schedule with yours
Waiter: ohoh the most wanted man you say? i wonder if the one i want wants me just as much…….???
Waiter: i would like to see you more often before my album drops, you know i will get quite busy and not seeing you for too long doesnt seem to work well with me anymore ><
Waiter: sooo… i will come pick you up from work tonight just shoot me a msg *^
Just as his messages could make your heartbeat go into a crazy overdrive, it seemed he could also make it completely stop. Or so you thought. His flirting and now his proposal to pick you up gave you a huge shock. That would be a first for sure.
Me: sure! have your phone with you Mr Korea
Me: I wonder too if that person wants you as much ;)
You decided not to pay him any more attention after that as much as you were tempted. Your belly was levitating along with your body, feeling high on vitamin Baekhyun. Pressing down the urge to tease him, you put your phone away, your hands slightly trembly from the attention you kept receiving from someone like him.
If your predictions were even close to correct, you wanted to tell him: yes, the one that he wanted, wanted him just as much.
…
You were fast to leave your work that day. Excited butterflies were eating your insides away, and the only way to make them calm down was to finally meet the person who always made their wings flutter.
Baekhyun was already parked in the underground parking lot, his car the only one with the motor on - and the only car of his class. You spotted him sitting in his car in his white jersey shirt, his left elbow propped on the windowsill as his index finger was stuck between his teeth, gnawing at it. When he saw you, he took a double-take and quickly changed his posture which made you giggle.
Baekhyun was following you with his eyes, going even to the length of leaning in over the passenger seat so as not to lose sight of you until he reached over and opened the passenger door for you so you could slide in.
“Why, thank you,” you smiled cheerfully as you sat down. You closed the door and put your bag down in between your legs.
“My pleasure,” he said back with a pleasant smile. “Hand me the bag, I'll put it in the backseat.”
You quickly did as he asked and then reached for your seatbelt.
“How was work today? We should celebrate!” he exclaimed as he put the car into drive and made his way out of the parking lot.
You hummed, gnawing on your lip. “That would be wonderful,” you said but hesitated about offering anything further. It was difficult to read the situation; you wouldn't know what you could afford to do with him and what not; what would be stepping over the line and what wouldn't. But Baekhyun said he liked you. In fact, he even told you to look at him like at any other man. That meant you shouldn't doubt all the possible hang-out ideas you had, right?
“I think it is you who deserves a gift,” you murmured and stole a look at his concentrated face. You reached the outside now, the dark evening slowly changing into night, the light of passing cars illuminating your faces.
“Hmm, I think so, too. Something in lines of - I can pick whatever I want, huh?”
Hiding your smile behind your hand, you nodded. “Yes, I can grant something. But don't make it expensive. Even though you sold out our magazine, it doesn't mean I will get a pay rise right away.”
“Oh, it won't include any monetary value,” he promised and turned to look at you when he stopped at the red light, the line in front of you seemingly going on for at least a mile. “It would be something you can and should be able to do freely.”
Despite the darkness of the car, Baekhyun could still spot that gorgeous, astounding blush colouring your cheeks. He really grew to love it; to make you so flustered you couldn't help but grow all red, just for him. “What do you think?” he asked quietly, still observing you with a small lopsided smile.
First you looked at your connected hands in your lap and then looked up at him through your lashes. “Depends what it is, but I owe you, so…” you trailed off.
He chuckled quietly, causing your heart to skip a beat before he started driving again, the line in front slowly moving. “Wonderful.”
Within forty-five minutes, you found yourself seated in a Korean restaurant, both yours and Baekhyun's shoes left at the entrance. Baekhyun, knowing the owner, asked for a separate room where people usually held business dinners, to ensure you would have full privacy and could enjoy each other.
It was a bit mind-blowing how much he could just do. His authority was admirable but at the same time it reminded you how you could hardly compare. If you would have asked the owner to give you a separate room, you might have had to fight for it or give him some money. Baekhyun seemed to walk in like a prince, confidently talking to people as if it was so natural.
“Can you give me a moment?” he asked suddenly, already standing up. “I forgot something in the car. Choose a meal until then.”
You nodded and saw him shuffling towards the door. Quickly going through the menu, you were thankful it was just an ordinary Korean restaurant that specializes in noodle soups and wasn't pricey. Picking the one that seemed the most special, you put the menu away just in time for Baekhyun to return back. His right hand was behind his back, obviously hiding something.
He had a sheepish smile on his face as he stepped towards you and handed you a beautiful bouquet of colourful flowers, the smell of which instantly hit your nose. You felt your mouth stretch into a wide smile as you stood up to your feet.
“Oh my god, what is this for, Baekhyun?” you asked, looking up into his eyes just to find them sparkling with anticipation.
“I know I never asked you out on an official date, so I might not be dressed up to my best potential, but I really wanted to give you something and today, as I said, I wanted to give you a bouquet. Please, accept it,” he added breathily, watching you with bated breath, nudging the flowers out to you.
You giggled and he smiled right away as you took the bouquet in your hand, careful as to not hold his fingers that were still curled around the stems. “Thank you.”
As you wanted to pull back, he leaned in, grabbing your wrist gently that was holding the flowers, bringing you closer. His lips hovered over your cheek and he eventually pressed them there. “Good job on your first cover,” he murmured and leaned away the slightest to watch your surprised reaction. Your eyes were watching his mouth and he had to restrain himself from going any further. He didn't want to cross the line. Not yet.
Unfortunately, you had to separate when the doors opened and the waiter came in. She was taken aback for the slightest of moments when she noticed you and Baekhyun backing away from each other but both of you recovered quickly and sat down, ready to order.
“This Vietnamese noodle soup is my favourite,” mentioned Baekhyun, looking at you. “So that is your gift to me - eating my favorite food with me.”
…
It was late June, the beginning of the most humid weeks of the year with the monsoon season around the corner.
Baekhyun became so busy with the release of his album back in May, that you rarely got to see him afterwards, although he made sure to see you a couple of times per week even if he was on the verge of falling asleep. Besides meeting, you were always chatting on the phone, him updating you about his daily schedules while you would mostly talk and send pictures about the same old stuff - your office, your computer screen or your late lunch. Or a selfie. You were on that basis now, despite a first kiss never happening.
It made you think sometimes if you were the one who was supposed to make the first move. If you grew eager to finally feel him in that way, then he must have also had some similar feelings, right? You had been dying to kiss him since the first time he said he liked you. And it was late June now.
Late June meant that the music awards show was happening just this particular night. Baekhyun had been texting you eager messages to double-check that you would really be attending like you told him you would.
While you quickly looked yourself over in the mirror in your office - you worked even today, a Saturday - you checked your phone's screen, seeing the previews of his messages.
Waiter: finally our schedules overlap ❤️ Waiter: i cant actually believe it Waiter: huhuhuhu missy are you done with preparing? im curious to see.... Waiter: its just that it would be difficult to do so without it…
Hastily checking your earrings, you read the previews with a large smile. It would be an exciting night.
When you arrived at the event along with your colleagues, you couldn't help feeling clammy from the excitement. The possibility of spotting Baekhyun was making you sick with anticipation. It wasn't even the amount of people attending the event, it was just him; just the idea that he was somewhere there and hopefully he was looking for you just like you were looking for him.
Your colleagues hurried to sit down as the ceremony was about to start. Since you were busy in the office, you ended up leaving the headquarters much later than planned, but there was nothing you could do about it anymore.
The lights dimmed just when you made yourself comfortable, making it too difficult to look around and recognize faces. Deciding to quickly check the messages you didn't have time to look at before, you finally saw what Baekhyun was bombarding you so much about.
Waiter: finally our schedules overlap Waiter: i cant actually believe it Waiter: huhuhuhu missy are you done with preparing? im curious to see how you look so you could send me a selfie and so then i can recognize you at the event hm? without having to stare everywhere and become suspicious Waiter: its just that it would be difficult to do so without it sooooo ????? Waiter: yah!! where did you go?? Waiter: ex...excuse me? ehm ehm!!! Waiter: wow okay… Waiter: Y/N … disappeared... Waiter: i guess you are busy >< im arriving at the venue soon update me so i know where you attttttt okiiii??? ㅎㅅㅎ
You hid your smile behind your hand and quickly typed him a message to update him like he demanded. You couldn't send a selfie anymore because of the silly lights and your superiors being at the same table, you couldn't afford to be on your phone all the time. Hyeri, as much as she was kind, didn't like it when the job was not done properly, so you made sure to pay attention to the performances while you felt your phone vibrate with messages most probably from Baekhyun.
You bit your lip to keep in the smile, your heart fluttering. How was he able to be this… gorgeous even through messages? How was he able to make your heart beat frantically even when he was not around you? Unknowingly, your desire for him grew by tenfold, the sudden urge to meet him almost overtaking your actions, but one strict stare from Hyeri and you stopped squirming in your chair as you realized you did with a horrified look. Wow. You had to do something about this, and it had to be very soon.
To your big misfortune, you never spotted Baekhyun until it was his turn to overtake the stage. As much as you expected something huge, it was anything but that. No props, just a simple mic stand and then, a Baekhyun in a ready-to-go-for-a-date look, plus four dancers and he was able to fill the huge stage to the brim with his presence. That was it. Simple as that.
You inhaled his entire performance, the loud screamings of crazy fans not enough to pull you out of your reverie that consisted of Byun Baekhyun and Byun Baekhyun only. His movements, so sharp yet so smooth, his flirting with the camera, his lip bites, and that crazy happy smile; all of it. He was changing images from lethal sexy, through lazily suggestive, then sweetly gorgeous until becoming cute and ready to pet on the head. Without anything more to add, he had each flavor of a candy to offer and you had never been this addicted to candies in your life.
...
You met him accidentally when you were leaving the toilets that were meant for the VIPs. Closing the door behind you, you felt its cold surface press to your bare back when Baekyun appeared in front of you, freezing momentarily when he recognized you.
He smiled instantly, happy to finally see you, before he let his eyes wander. Finally, he let you know that he was looking. Oh he was. Your dress was revealing on the back, which he had yet to witness, but the front was completely covered, hugging your chest and waist, telling Baekhyun that there was something to look at for sure. The long, wavy skirt that stopped just above the floor was bunched up in your hand, showing sparkly high-heeled shoes that were the cause of the pain in your ankles.
None of you said a word as you took a note of his fancy suit, the simple stage outfit now gone. It was fully black, but once again you couldn't comprehend how broad his shoulders and chest were despite his shirt that was tucked into his pants being black, too.
“Good performance,” you broke the silence finally, meeting his somewhat eager gaze. “I have to admit, I was swooning with the other girls, too.”
That got Baekhyun's attention. His eyebrow rose in question and he stepped closer but not before making sure there were no prying eyes in the small corridor. His body covered yours from anyone, were you to be disturbed. “Oh, were you, really?”
You nodded, your smile teasing. “Yeah.”
He smiled gently, his gaze running over your features that were touched up with make-up. “I'm glad. If I wanted to impress someone, it was you.”
“You did that a long time ago,” you admitted shyly, averting your eyes so he wouldn't catch you shyness.
You heard him letting out a laugh through his nose. “So cute,” he muttered, stepping even closer. “I have to run back but let me drive you home tonight.”
His words made your head snap up though you weren't that much smaller from him anymore thanks to the heels. His words ignited something inside of you. “You came with your car?”
“I asked my friend to bring it over to the venue,” he said. “I am not going back to my company after this. I finally found you here and-” he sighed softly, shaking his head as he looked at you, “I want to spend some time with you. Alone.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, his look making you all itchy and needy. Without much thinking, you found yourself nodding a tad too eagerly which made Baekhyun smile. “Alright,” you whispered, “text me. But I can't leave before my superiors do.”
“Can I just steal you?”
Giggling, you shook your head and suppressed the need to hold his hand. “I'm afraid no. But I will try my best to get out of it quickly.”
His smile was so gentle as he nodded slowly, closing his eyes for a second before stepping even closer, his fingertips running over your clothed forearm in the most feather-like way. “Okay. I'll be waiting for you,” sweetheart.
…
The car came to a complete stop in front of your small apartment building. Audi had quite the silent engine anyway, but now with it being turned off, you felt like silence had a physical form and was growing in on you, making the tension between you and Baekhyun the more difficult to withstand.
Given his silence, you knew that you should say something, and you also knew what you were supposed to do. It was now or never. “Would you maybe… like to come in?”
He glanced over, checking your expression to see if you were serious. He parted his lips but hesitation stole the words away from him. You chuckled when he opened his mouth again and smiled abashedly. “'I’d love to.”
Oh my god, you thought as the both of you made your way towards your apartment. In panic, you tried to quickly think over what state you left your flat in exactly, but it seemed that your mind was clogged up, unable to come up with anything that could possibly explain what was happening in that very moment. Byun Baekhyun, the superstar, was coming inside your apartment. And he seemed to be rather quiet.
Was he overthinking this? Maybe he would realise this was all a mistake and that you weren't good enough for him. Maybe you did something off-putting today?
As you were typing in the code to your house, you felt his strong presence behind you, his gaze on your naked back, and you swore the tension just grew even more when you let him enter your little safety den first. Surely, it was no luxury like he must have been used to by then, given the many years of singing career, but you could only hope it would be enough.
You had been far too gone for him. If he were to dump you, you might end up hurt and heartbroken.
Letting the door close behind you, you wanted to follow him only to see him standing just a couple of steps ahead of you, looking into the apartment but not moving further inside. “You can enter, Baekyhun.”
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he said softly out of nowhere, catching you off guard with his honest words. Letting them sink in, you bit your lip, feeling your heartbeat accelerate again. It wasn't possible to get a heart attack, right?
He was standing in front of you while your back was pressed to the front door you just closed behind you. “Thank you,” you whispered, matching his intimate tone and feeling like you were about to combust. “You look really handsome tonight.” And everyday.
He smiled, which you couldn't see as he still had his back on you. Just then, he turned and with that pleasant expression on his face made those separating two steps towards you until he stood right in front of you, causing you to look up. “Thank you.”
You nodded, feeling the terrible blush creeping up into your cheeks. Actually your entire body was suddenly on a heat wave, feeling the prickles of sweat to form under your dress as he stared at you affectionately. God, you wanted him so much it was really becoming unbearable.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just asked one,” you replied mischievously, grinning, just to be rewarded with a wide smile from him as he stepped even closer, your heart clenching painfully. Was it the chemistry that was so painful?
“Cheeky,” he whispered, his breath almost hitting your cheek. You kept his eye contact before you nudged him with a go on.
What, do you want to kiss me on the cheek again? you desperately wanted to ask, to tease him. Or would this finally be it? Would he finally just... kiss you?
“May I kiss you, sweetheart. On the lips.” His intonation was far from that of a question. He was so hot, goodness. And your knees were suddenly jelly-like as you couldn’t stop staring into his eyes when you nodded.
He let out a breathy laugh when he almost pressed his body into yours. Almost. “You don’t like to confirm things out loud with me, do you, beauty?”
“Yes, you may kiss me, Baekhyun. Please, just finally kiss me.”
It was almost as if he wouldn't wait for your approval anyway, as he was leaning in before your words even left your mouth, his hands coming to gently rest against the door; caging you in, yet making you feel even more safe. He was carefully watching your features as he pressed his lips to yours, one hand coming to cradle your face gently before he finally captured your upper lip and you melted.
Closing your eyes, you sighed as you let your hands slide up his toned chest and around his neck when he pressed himself into you just a little bit closer, a very much satisfied hum coming out of his throat that sent shock waves down your body. That deadly hum. It could really do anything to you, it was that attractive to you.
You dared to run your fingers through his hair that had gel in it, but still felt so cutely soft under your touch. You played with his pillows, prolonging the gentle sucking as you dragged his lower lip towards you, feeling the wetness of his mouth. He leaned in as you separated for the slightest of moments, tilting his head to the other side, unconsciously making one step closer so you felt him on your chest and the surface of the door on your back.
Smooch after smooch, you soon realized he was a loud kisser that liked the licking sounds and the responses from you as you breathed out softly while his thumb caressed your blushed cheek.
Another loud smooch, and this time he was the one who dragged your lower lip towards him with his teeth, as he bumped his nose with yours, tilting his head to the opposite side again while both of his hands cradled your face with utmost care.
Eventually, he kissed you one last time, ending it with him pressing his forehead to yours, not opening his eyes just yet. You didn’t either, relishing in the lingering feeling of him around your mouth as his warm pants pushed in through your parted lips. Slowly, he nuzzled your nose and you giggled softly which prompted him to open his eyes to meet yours already on him.
“That was better than I could ever imagine,” he whispered and smiled handsomely.
You blushed even more, if that was possible. “Ditto.”
His eyes widened and he leaned away a bit. “Don’t tell me you fantasized about kissing me?”
You shrugged but didn’t meet his eye. “How could I not? I’m a human, aren’t I? And you know I like to be straightforward.”
He smirked, knowingly nodding to himself. “Oh yeah, right. The straightforward business.”
You chuckled. “You’re too good of a kisser.”
“Only the best for you,” he winked and those words made you feel things. Before you could reply, he blurted: “Can I be your boyfriend?”
Smiling widely, you nodded, feeling absolutely elated. This was really happening. “Yes, you can be my boyfriend, Baekhyun.”
He sweeped you in his arms, bringing you in for another kiss. “That means,” he murmured between the kisses, “that I can kiss you just like that. And I can finally call you sweetheart,” he breathed the nickname before opening his mouth and devouring you, showing how passionate of a kisser he could be.
You never doubted him, of course, but in situations like these, reality was always better than your poor imagination, for your brain could never produce the exceptional feeling of having Byun Baekhyun’s lips on yours, feeling the moisture and his playful tongue, his creativity of teasing you with it astonishing. No. Nothing could ever compare.
There was only one Byun Baekhyun and he was a superstar. Off-limits to almost everyone. But not to you. Not anymore.
--- --- --- --- ---
A/N: And that is the end! This is the final part, so with this, I am also saying goodbye to this story that made my heart flutter a wee bit... ^^ Thank you to whomever sent me support via comments/reblogs, dms, I was glad this story could bring something enjoyable to the table! ❤
--- As you know, these 3 chapters were supposed to be about how our characters met and became a couple. So I hope I delivered well! I know I put the M sign in the beginning way back in May, but while plotting, I realized it wasnt suitable for these 3 parts. It would take me more chapters to write to bring it to that point (hint: if you request it as a standalone oneshot later, I am willing to write it but otherwise it would need more relationship building).
I hope this explains it!
Thank you again!
Please let me know what you thought, it would mean a lot and its free!
CuriousCat Ask box is also open! Or comments!💕
#exowritersnet#baekhyun fanfiction#baekhyun fluff#baekhyun canon#baekhyun scenario#baekhyun fic#baekhyun drabble#baekhyun au#baekhyun#byun baekhyun#exo fanfiction#exo au#exo canon#exo imagine#exo fluff#mywritings
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angel wings + wedding rings
part four | angels in the early morning
m. de lafayette x reader
summary: both of you say things that you don’t really regret.
word count: 3.4k
masterlist | previous | next
When his eyes were shut, Lafayette could only feel guilt.
He felt guilty for everything. For convincing you to marry him when you were both so clearly drunk. Then for trapping you in this marriage even though he had nothing to offer you. For keeping the apartment so cold. And for making you stay up late worrying where he was. Now, he felt guilty for not telling you no when you asked for meaningless sex; he knew it wasn’t meaningless to him.
The kind of guilt that embedded itself into your soul and swallowed you from the inside out. An ocean of guilt that he was now drowning in, the icy water filling his lungs and preventing him from calling out for help. The guilt was a siren, a warning of impending doom, a disaster about to make landfall and destroy everything in its path.
But then he opened his eyes and saw you.
Staring right back at him, the corners of your lips turned up at the corners and bright eyes staring back into his. Lafayette’s heart began to beat again-- when had it stopped beating? Your smile was infectious, and he couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face as well. He hoped you couldn’t see right through his smile, to the heart hammering in his chest.
“You’re beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking,” he said after awhile, his eyes following the slope of your nose and traced your jawline.
You laughed through your nose. “You don’t have to keep flirting with me, love. I already had sex with you. Three times.”
His grin widened and he slowly nodded in agreement. “Three times.”
“I have to say, I’ve heard the rumors, but I didn’t think they were true.” You let your head fall back onto the pillow, sighing softly and allowing for your eyes to close shut.
“What do the rumors say about me?” Lafayette asked curiously, propping himself up on his elbow.
You opened one eye to see him grinning smugly at you, and you scoffed softly. “Oh, no. Your ego’s already big enough as it is.”
“I’m curious. Come on, mon ange, tell me.”
You only shook your head. “I’m sure you have girls tell you how good you are in bed all the time.” You paused, your eyes snapping open as a thought occurred to you. “Maybe you should be on the complimenting side of the post-sex conversation.”
“You want me to talk about how good you are in bed?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know. Coming from you, it’s a big deal.” You shrugged, then pinned him with an expectant stare.
Lafayette considered you for a moment, and found no words to be acceptable. It wasn’t that there was a lack of things he could compliment you on; that wasn’t the problem. There were so many things he wanted to say. Words filled with affection and love, but mostly truth. He knew he wouldn’t be able to tell you how much he adored you without letting it all slip out.
Especially since you were so insistent last night that this was purely about the sex, no emotions involved. No strings attached, you had said. Lafayette hated himself for agreeing, but he knew he would agree again in a heartbeat. He would do anything if he got to be the one to draw those lyrical moans from your lips, if he was the one who got to make you feel that good.
“Well?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.
Lafayette reminded himself to breathe, and offered you an indifferent smile. “I guess you were alright.”
“Just alright?” You scoffed, sitting up in bed, and pulling the sheet to your chest. “We both know I was more than alright.”
He grinned, and wanted to tell you that yes, you were much better than alright, but Lafayette knew he wouldn’t stop himself there. He turned away from you, grabbing a pair of sweats and pulling them on.
“I’m going to make breakfast, feel free to use my shower. The water pressure’s much better than the guest bathroom’s.” He stood up from the bed, giving you a nice view of his toned back, and the early morning light from the window outlined him in an almost heavenly way.
Your eyes followed his figure as he exited the room, and you sighed softly, letting your head fall back against the soft pillows. It was so easy to wake up next to him. In his bed. In his house. It was just easy.
After taking a moment to stretch, you forced yourself to climb out of bed and pad into his bathroom. You started the shower, and once the water got hot, you got in and let the water wash you clean. You had time to really think now. To think about this whole arrangement. To think about last night. To think about how much you wanted to feel his lips on yours again. To think about how much nicer his shower was than the guest bathroom’s was.
You figured you had taken long enough in the shower at this point. California experienced frequent droughts, it wouldn’t be environmentally conscious to stay in the shower any longer. You shut off the water, and wrapped yourself in one of the fluffy white towels Lafayette kept in his bathroom. Had he really been hoarding the quality towels and soaps in his bathroom? You made a mental note to reprimand him about it later.
Barefoot and concealed only in a towel, you walked out into the kitchen where the fragrant smell of coffee wafted through the air. Lafayette heard you enter the room, and he turned to face you. You could’ve sworn the relaxed smile he wore grew ever so subtlety when he saw you. Or maybe you had just hoped it had.
“Made you coffee. To your exact specifications.” He slid the hot mug over to you.
Your heart began to beat a little faster at the thought of caffeine and potentially at the thought that of Lafayette memorizing how you like your coffee. “What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing husband like you, sweetheart?”
He snorted softly. “You got drunk in Vegas.”
“I suppose drunken mistakes have their benefits.” You took a sip of the coffee and let it warm you from the inside out.
“Careful, mon ange, you keep calling me a mistake and you might hurt my feelings.” His tone was teasing, but he was careful to look away from your gaze and turn back to the breakfast he was working on.
“Now I could ask more questions about your upcoming film, but I think we need to discuss the elephant in the room. Your secret marriage to Victoria Secret’s angel, Y/n L/n.”
The conversation you were currently having with Alex and John paused at the mention of your name on the TV screen.
Lafayette was on Ben Franklin’s talk show, and John had convinced you and Alex to come over to catch up and watch the interview. John and Alex were dying to ask you about your marriage, since they really hadn’t been told much more than what was printed in the tabloids, but Ben had beaten them to the question in his interview.
You watched Lafayette put on a practiced smile. A smile viewers would just assume was a result of the mention of his wife, but you knew Lafayette better than that. He was mentally preparing the rehearsed story the two of you had crafted together.
“Well, Ben, what do you want to know about Y/n and I?” Lafayette asked.
The eccentric host’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward on his desk. “Everything. For starters, when did you two start dating? And how could you keep this secret from dear old me?”
Lafayette chuckled. “We met through our mutual friend, Hercules Mulligan, and... and I was just awestruck from the moment I met her. I had the biggest crush on her, and one day I finally got the guts to ask her out.”
You pursed your lips as you watched the interview. Was it at all possible that Lafayette had liked you? You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what would’ve happened if he had asked you out, but then you reminded yourself that he was a professional actor. He didn’t mean any of it. It was just a cover. And that didn’t bother you.
“Somehow I convinced a literal angel to go out with me, and for some reason she’s stuck around. What’s it been? A month and a half? We had a small ceremony, neither of us wanted anything big.” Lafayette laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. “I still can’t believe that she’s my reality.”
The audience and Ben aww’d at his statement, and the irony of his statement tugged at your heart. This fake marriage was fucked up, you both knew it, and you found yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Y/n must be one special girl to make the Gilbert de Lafayette settle down. You have quite the reputation y’know,” Ben said suggestively.
“That’s all in the past. Y/n’s my present and my future.” Lafayette looked away from Ben for a moment, his eyes lingering on the ring on his finger. “This last month and a half being married to her has been the best month and a half of my life. I just... I love her.”
Another round of awws from the audience, and this time Alex and John joined the audience, glancing at you for a reaction. You gave them what you hoped looked like a contented smile, but inside you were a twisted knot of shock and anxiety.
Lafayette had just said he loved you on national television. There was really no going back now; surprisingly, that’s not what you were focused on. He had said it with such sincerity that even you were convinced he meant it. You forced the warm, overflowing sensation back into your gut and reminded yourself it was all an act. A very compelling act that manipulated your emotions with ease, but an act nonetheless.
Ben and Lafayette thankfully moved onto another topic, and John turned down the volume on the TV. Alex and John turned to face you, ready to begin their own investigation.
“You have to know, we’re both very upset that we weren’t invited to the wedding,” Alex began. “We’re supposed to be friends, Y/n!”
“It was pretty spontaneous.” Understatement of the year. “We really didn’t invite anyone. Not even family.”
“You didn’t even tell us. I read about your wedding in a magazine. We didn’t even know you were dating,” John said.
You shrugged. “You heard Lafayette. We kept it quiet, but had been dating for awhile.”
“If we’re being honest,” Alex said, “I think I knew you two were dating.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty obvious in the way you guys would stare at each other all the time.”
“We didn’t... We didn’t stare at each other all the time.”
John nodded in agreement. “No, no. Alex’s right. It was right in front of us the whole time. You guys always spent so much time together. I should’ve suspected something was going on.”
“I always knew you liked him, Y/n,” Alex said, “but you’re really in love with him? You never thought to tell us?”
“We’re married. Of course I love him.” And God, did you wish you were lying.
“I brought you lunch.”
You examined the box in Lafayette’s hand, smiling a little when you recognized the logo from your favorite restaurant. You grabbed his arm and pulled him out of earshot from the group of models who were watching the two of you and whispering to each other.
“Y’know you don’t have to bring me lunch, we’re not really married,” you said quietly when you were sure no one could hear you.
Lafayette only shrugged and thrusted the box of food into your hands. “I know. Just think of it as a way for me to say thank you.”
“I think you’ve thanked me enough. I’ve got a new Rolls-Royce, don’t I?” You grinned.
“She’s all yours, mon ange.”
You were smiling up at Lafayette, and he responded with a dazzling smile of his own. To any onlookers, it was a sweet moment between two newlyweds in the Honeymoon stage. And it sure felt like it. You remembered where you were and quickly looked away from him.
“I wish I could eat lunch with you, but I have to get back to work,” you said.
He nodded. “Of course. Tuesdays are busy for you. But Wednesday is your day off. Get lunch with me tomorrow.”
Sure, you’d had plenty of breakfasts and dinners with him, and a few lunches just for public appearances, but this felt different. It was the soft way he asked; the slight shaking of his voice that told you he was nervous. The way his eyes were a wider, more hopeful and tender.
“Lunch? Tomorrow?” You asked slowly.
Lafayette swallowed thickly. “Yes. Lunch tomorrow.”
You paused. “Like a date?”
“Like a date.”
Maybe all the planets had aligned perfectly in outer space just to make sure you made a decision you promised yourself months earlier that you wouldn’t. A decision you knew was stupid and could end poorly. But between the tugging in your gut and the nervous smile on Lafayette’s face, any coherent thought was drowned out in a pink haze.
“Okay. Let’s go on a date,” you said.
Any doubt about whether you had made a bad decision flew out the window when you saw Lafayette’s shoulders relax and his smile take over his face. That smile could light up the darkest room. He bounced excitedly back and forth on his feet.
“Great! I’ll make reservations.” He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his excitement, shaking your head a little. “We’re married and we’ve already slept together, but this is what gets you excited?”
“Maybe it’s because I just really like lunch,” he said. Maybe it’s just because this is actually real, he thought.
“You’re ridiculous. I really need to get back to work now before Hercules comes and yells at you for distracting me,” you told him.
He nodded and leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek. “Have a good day, mon ange.”
The first date was perfect.
It wasn’t anything special. Lafayette took you to a quiet restaurant just outside of L.A. He didn’t buy flowers or have anything spectacular planned, it was just a casual lunch. You ordered your food, talked about your day, ate, paid the bill, and left. That was it. And it was perfect.
The problem was that once you said yes to a date once, you couldn’t say no. And in Lafayette’s opinion, the second date was more significant.
Lafayette tried to calm himself when he asked you again. When he was around you, he couldn’t help but feel panicked. Not panicked in the scared or terrified kind of ways, but panicked in the way he didn’t know how to stop or slow down. He was a car going full speed down the highway with no breaks and no intentions to stop.
But you weren’t the same. He knew you had to bend your morals and ideals to even say yes to a first date. He would slow down for you. Or, at the very least, he would hide his panic.
“Do you want to go out?”
Out like a date? you’d wanted to ask. Or maybe just out like ‘you’ve been in my apartment for too long and I’m afraid there’s going to be a permanent you shaped indent in my couch.’ You glanced up at him, first noticing the easy smirk he wore. Then you saw the slight panic in his eyes and you nodded to yourself. Yes, he means like a date.
“Yes.” You would’ve thought that one little word was a drug the way Lafayette’s face lit up at the mere sound of it.
If Lafayette was still trying to contain his panic, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. He took your hand in his and grabbed the keys to his car with the other. In a second you were situated in the passenger seat of his car and Lafayette was pulling out into the road.
“Where are we going?” You asked him while he helped you connect to the car’s sound system.
“I... I hadn’t thought of that yet,” he admitted, and you laughed. “Where do you want to go?”
“Don’t ask me, this was your idea. I don’t want to make a decision.”
“Okay, okay. Then we’ll just drive until we find somewhere we want to stop.”
The word ‘we’ felt so natural on his tongue. Like it was his mother language. You were his wife, his partner. Even if you just saw it as a temporary thing, and even if Lafayette knew it could only be a temporary thing, every now and then he liked to pretend that this was all real.
Neither you nor Lafayette would remember every detail from that night. The two of you were intoxicated, not by alcohol or any other form of inebriation, but by something stronger and more languid. Memories came back in poetic proses, broken glass on the sidewalk that looked like glittering stars, camera flashes that documented a fake marriage and real smiles, and desperate displays of affection that only delayed catastrophe.
You don’t think anything Lafayette ‘plans’ to do that night is intentional. In fact, you don’t know if anything he’s done in his entire life has been intentional. Sometimes that worries you, but right now you can’t help but love the spontaneous man that pulls you out onto the Santa Monica beach.
It’s already getting dark, and you’re certain that if you take your shoes off now to meander around the beach, you’ll never find them again. And you like these shoes. But Lafayette insists you run around barefoot with him. You mutter something about “I don’t know why I do these things for you.” You know the answer. You’re careful to make sure that because I love you doesn’t slip out.
“Lafayette, I swear if I lose these shoes, I’m getting a divorce,” you say as your bare feet sink into the cool sand.
He scoffs. “Well I wouldn’t want your shoes to be ruined by ocean water.”
“Why would they be...” your eyes meet his, then move to the waves lapping at the beach, then back to Lafayette. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
You’re not given the opportunity to say no again, because his hands snake behind your knees and the next thing you know, you’re thrown over his shoulder and he’s racing toward the water. You yell a few times for him to stop, but it’s drowned out by your own laughter.
Lafayette is waist deep in the water, your feet, calves, and knees sink into the water, but you grab fist fulls of his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep the rest of your body warm and dry. Your actions are made in vain, because he takes a deep breath then pulls the both of you under the waves. He lets go of you after you’ve been completely submerged and you quickly resurface.
“I’m going to kill you,” you say as you gasp for air.
He laughs, and it’s so warm and full you forgive his previous transgressions for just a moment. “You might want to take out a larger life insurance policy before you do that.”
Lafayette wades over to you, his hands falling to your waist. They fit there perfectly, like your body was made for his hands to hold. He pulls you into his warmth.
“I don’t know what possessed you to drag me into this freezing water at night,” you groan, burying your face in his chest.
You can feel the soft vibrations of his laughter. “We’ve got warm, fluffy towels at home.”
Your heart flutters a little bit at the mention of home. “I do love your towels.”
“They’re your towels. I got them for you,” he admits.
“You did?”
Lafayette rests his head on top of yours. “Got new pillows, too. And a new coffee maker.”
“Just for me?”
“Mmhmm,” he hums softly. “I’d do anything for you.”
You sigh out the name of some deity, maybe it’s his name, and you just stop thinking. “I love you. I’m so in love with you.”
He pulls away to stare at you with wide eyes.
“What?”
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#lafayette x reader#marquis de Lafayette#lafayette imagine#daveed diggs x reader#Daveed Diggs#imagine lafayette#fake marriage au#hamilton#hamilton fic#hamilton fanfic#hamilton fanfiction#hamilton imagine#victoria's secret angel reader#actor!lafayette#alexander hamilton#john laurens#hercules mulligan#hollywood!au
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Like A Moth to a Flame- Pt. 1
Alright. So the incredible @miscellaneous-bnha pumped out some awesome Mothman Mirio HC’s for me last night because these past few days have been... interesting to say the least. So in return for the excellent meal, I’m dropping the first chapter of my own Mothrio fic! Smut is coming soon, don’t you worry.
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You’re startled awake by a loud crash in the alleyway outside your apartment, followed by the unmistakable sound of trash cans and recycling bins being knocked over. You sit bolt upright in bed, an icy shiver running up your spine as your brain conjures up images of bloodthirsty axe-murderers and psychopathic serial killers. Groping blindly for your phone, you pull it from under the pillows and dial 911, waiting with bated breath as your finger hovers over the call button. But when there’s no sound of breaking glass or your front door being kicked in, you relax slightly and slowly slide out from under the covers. Carefully, you pad out of the bedroom and make your way to the living room. Moonlight streams through the windows, creating soft, blueish squares on the hardwood floor. As you tiptoe closer to the main window, you look down into the alleyway below, your third floor apartment giving you the perfect vantage point. Overturned cans and trash bags litter the pavement with some of the bags appearing to have been ripped open and their contents strewn everywhere.
“Raccoons?” You think to yourself, before you notice something moving out of the corner of your eye. Something much bigger than a raccoon. The alleyway is capped off by a faded wooden fence, effectively turning it into a dead end. And in the light of the full moon you can see something or someone crouching in the corner where weathered wood meets worn brick. You’re too far away to make out any distinguishing features and they appear to be wearing some kind of cloak or shroud, hiding the mystery lurker’s face from view. Your first instinct is to call the police, as you still haven’t ruled out the possibility of thieves and murderers. But as you watch the figure shrink father into the shadows and notice the tremble that runs through their body, you can’t help but feel a twinge of pity for them. You don’t exactly live in the most glamorous part of town and it wasn’t uncommon to see your neighbors or their friends wandering the streets, drunk or stoned beyond reason. Hell, you’d helped them back home once or twice before, earning their gratitude for keeping them out of trouble with the law along with a bit of compensation. Usually in the form of food, drink, or a paltry sum of cash. So you choose the self-sacrificial route, slipping on a robe and good shoes before pulling up a rideshare app. You also take the liberty of arming yourself with a frying pan as you pass by the kitchen (you’re helpful, not stupid) before grabbing your keys and heading out the door.
You scurry down the stairs and through the back door leading to the alley, pulling your robe a little tighter in the wake of the chilly night air. The lurker is maybe 20 yards away, still cowering in the shadows and obscured by their outer attire. There’s a strange, keening noise coming from them, akin to a dog’s whine or a child crying.
“Hello?” You softly call out, taking a few steps forwards. The noise stops and they freeze at your words. “Are you alright? Do you need some help?”
Suddenly, the moon moves behind a cloud, throwing the alleyway into an eerie, inky darkness. You quickly pull up the flashlight on your phone and point it in the direction of the shrouded figure. You take a few more steps forward, your grip on the frying pan tightening instinctually. They begin to slowly move out from under their makeshift shelter, raising their head up to look at you. Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t decide whether to step closer or back away. The face staring back at you is nothing short of handsome, a bit boyish yet perfectly framed by a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. He has a shock of blonde hair, bright as spun gold and sticking up in a wild, windblown manner. If you’d met someone like him on the street, you’d have sworn he was an actor or even a model. But it’s his eyes that give you real pause. They’re inhuman, round and glassy like twin marbles, and so vibrantly blue they rival the sky and sea in color. You can’t see any whites, or pupils for that matter, and the light from your flashlight makes them gleam like shards of broken glass. Just looking at them, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight while your skin prickles with unease.
“W-w-who… wh-what…” You stammer, taking a cautious step back. The man, if you can call him that, suddenly shifts onto one knee before rising to his full height, those otherworldly eyes still firmly locked on yours. He’s massive, easily 8 feet tall if not more, and corded with rippling muscle from head-to-toe. His too-long limbs end in clawed hands and feet, caked with dirt and what you hope isn’t blood. A ring of equally golden hair (or maybe fur?) encircles his neck like a mane, tapering down his defined chest and abs. You notice with abject horror that he’s naked as what you thought was a cloak unfurls to reveal a pair of enormous, insect-like wings. They span the width of the alleyway, brushing against the brick walls on either side as the creature gives them an experimental flap. He blinks once and cocks his head, emitting a low, rumbling noise that snaps you out of your gawkish reverie.
You let loose a blood curdling scream and turn on your heel to run back to the safety of your apartment. In fact, you turn too quickly, tripping and sending yourself crashing to the pavement while the frying pan skitters off into the darkness. You flip onto your bottom and scrabble backwards, brandishing the light of your phone at the monster before you. But instead of charging or swiping at you, the beast lets out a high-pitched squeal of its own before hunkering back down in the safety of its wings. You don’t have time to worry or care about this odd reaction as you scramble to your feet and make a break for the alley door. Throwing it open with a bang, you bolt up the stairs to your apartment, fumbling to get the the key out of your robe pocket and keep hold of the phone in your hands. You keep looking over your shoulder as you jam it into the lock, expecting the demonic being to appear behind you any second, until you finally hear the telltale click and burst through the door. You slam it shut (neighbors and noise complaints be damned!) and run into the kitchen to grab a large knife from the sink. Blood is roaring in your ears and you’re breathing heavily as you lean against the counter, keeping one eye on the front door and one on the windows.
But no sound comes to indicate the creature is pursuing you or if he’s even nearby. Still wielding the knife, you creep over to the living room window and peer around the frame. The moon has come out from behind the clouds, illuminating the alley once more. To your utter shock, the beast is still there, cowering like a wounded animal once again. After a few tense minutes you see him peer out from his self-made cocoon, flaxen hair practically glowing in the moonlight as he looks around. Slowly, almost timidly, the brute uncurls from his fetal position and stands upright. He’s no less terrifying than before, but at least you’re observing from a safe distance this time. You watch as he lumbers forward, leaning down to paw at the spot you had been standing in moments before. He scratches at the concrete, occasionally pausing to sniff his hand before resuming his work. You can only imagine what’s running through his mind, but it can’t be anything good. He seems to grow tired of this activity after a minute or two and begins to pick over the debris at his feet, sifting through it almost like he’s looking for something. Morbid curiosity compels you to strain your neck a little farther, squinting to see what the beast is doing. After a few moments of searching the creature’s wings flap excitedly and he straightens up with something in his claws: your frying pan!
“What the hell…?” You breathe, watching him turn it over his hands, the silver metal glinting cheerfully in the moonlight. He then brings the handle up to his nose, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. You’re about to let out another colorful expletive when his head suddenly snaps up, eyes wide open and staring up at your apartment window. You gasp and hide behind the wall, unconsciously holding your breath as you silently pray the creature didn’t spot you. When nothing happens, you chance another peek out the window. He’s gone, the spilled garbage in the alleyway the only evidence that something had been out there.
“Fuck.” You curse on a shaky exhale, dropping the knife with a clatter and rubbing your temples. “What the fuck just happened? Am I going insane? There’s no way that thing was real!”
You steal another cautious glance into the alley, unsure if you’re hoping to see the monster again or not. But the alley is silent now, save for a few stray cats that have shown up to inspect the trashy feast. With a trembling hand you pick up the knife and carry it into your bedroom, not even bothering to disrobe as you place it on your bedside table and curl up on the mattress. Sleep eventaully overpowers you, but your dreams are haunted by shadowy, winged creatures with glowing blue eyes. You wake up utterly exhausted the next morning, unsure if you’d really seen something last night or if you’d just had a vivid nightmare. Unsure that is, until you can’t find your frying pan anywhere.
#mothmanmirio#mothrio#mirio x reader#mirio togata x reader#togata mirio x reader#bnha x reader#mothman au#bnha#bnha au#bnha mothman au
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