#i hate how short lived my fixation was ... i really love the game and i want to stay there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

historicallyaccuratecheese · 3 months ago

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Very Important Blog Update, Please Read if you Have the Time!

For a while, this blog that I've been running has kind of had a...primary goal, so to speak. That goal has been to write massive, long-form essay posts about my time listening to The Magnus Archives. Going forward, I'd...like to change my approach to how I utilize this blog, and explain what I mean under the cut. (Also, sorry if this is a bit short and scattered and all over the place and if the stuff I'm insinuating kind of flip-flops as the post progresses, I'm writing this in a bit of a hurry, but hopefully it'll make sense by the end.)

So…I’m gonna be honest with everyone. As much as I hate to say it…my tma hyperfixation has kind of slipped recently. Is this for any particular reason? No, I still think the show is absolutely brilliant. Does this mean I don’t plan to ever finish it or talk about it on this blog ever again? Fuck no! But…this does kind of mean that when I come back to posting about the podcast is…indeterminate until I find both the time and energy to rekindle my fixation on it…and given where I’m at in life at the moment it’s kind of hard to tell when that will be, although I hope it won’t be too long from now.

I’m really really sorry to break this news to anyone who’s been following my posts, especially after such a long time of absolutely nothing, but…this is just kind of the way my head works I guess. I sustain a massive interest in something, then it fizzles out for like…two to six months and then comes back in full force. I still love tma and want to see it through to the end, and for all I know I could start posting about it again as soon as like…two weeks from now. But…I unfortunately can’t make any promises when considering how my academic life is in a really stressful period at the moment, and how there’s just other stuff that’s taken over my brain for the time being.

And on that note, I just wanted to make sure…are people who have been following me for tma like…happy to read stuff about other things I’m into? Because like, this blog has primarily been focused on tma for most of its life and I understand that’s what a lot of people have come here for, but like…I don’t know, I initially made this blog as a way to talk about all of my interests (and to escape the constantly sinking ship that is twitter.com but that’s another story), and then tma just…conveniently became the thing I ended up talking about the most, but…I’d like to talk about other stuff if people are up for it!

Some things I might want to talk about are Hollow Knight, Undertale/Deltarune, and then…whatever else happens to come up or resurface in my brain at the moment! I’m actually hoping to get into Ace Attorney in the coming weeks when things settle down slightly for me, I’ve never really delved into the series before (other than playing through most of the first game but that was a good few years ago and I don’t remember much other than really liking it), but after catching glimpses of a…certain person known for creating some very good fan dubs live-blogging their experience with the games, I thought…”sure, why not?” And besides, I’d like it if I could appeal to a wider audience and meet some more people who are into the same things as me, especially since it’s been such a delight hearing from other people who are into tma, plus it would be nice to start…you know, actually speaking my mind here again instead of just Reblogging most of the time like I have these past few months.

Basically, the crux of the post is that…I don’t really want to treat this blog like some sort of big, exclusively tma-focused project anymore. I already have enough big projects, especially of the essay variety, to do for class. I will still definitely listen to and talk about tma when I next get a good chance and the motivation to, and try to inform people about my thoughts and my experience, and hope to do so very soon, but…I don’t really want that to just be it anymore, and…yeah, I think I might just need to put this series I’ve been doing to rest.

Like, I’ve tried to rework my format into something a bit more easy to manage, but…if I’m being real, treating a leisurely activity as a task to complete just isn’t it, and if I’m to get back into it at all I think that I might just need to enjoy it on my own terms. In fact, unless I get a sudden spark of motivation to do so, or...until they stop being a thing I have to do against my will for a while, I don't think I'll be planning any long-form essay posts for the time being, because like I said, I'm already doing quite a bit of that for school. I want both listening to tma and running this blog to be something I do for my own pleasure first and foremost, because...I could really use that right now. I don't want to get too into personal details here, but I've honestly been lacking motivation to touch any of my hobbies recently, so...I feel like I should just do something that's more easy on myself and relaxing during my free time, and hopefully that'll get me in high and passionate spirits once again. And hey, I'm sure I'll eventually come up with some new idea for a project one day, and something tma-related is absolutely on the table, although...I might make dedicated blogs for those projects just in case.

But with all of that being said...I do still value the opinions of everyone who's been following my tma posts. I've had a great time reading the comments that everyone's made and it's extremely cathartic to make people happy with my own creations, but...I just want to make sure that people would be open to other stuff. Obviously, I don't want to pressure anyone, like, don't feel obligated to comment about posts on a fandom you're not a part of just to make me feel better, but as long as people are willing to hear me out with whatever I make next, and don't expect this to be a blog that is primarily focused on one thing (other than...my brain, I guess?), then I will be extremely happy and never ask anyone for anything ever again.

Well uh...that's about it I guess. Like I said, I'm sorry if this is a little bit jumbled and all over the place, but hopefully I got my point across. Going forward...well, I don't really have much of a plan for the most part, other than to post about whatever the fuck I feel like, I guess. I'll keep this post pinned for the time being, but I think that after I start building up a wider repetoire of topics to talk about, I'll make a pinned post that acts as both an introduction to my blog, and links all of the tags for my various fandoms. I also plan to eventually upload my magnus posts to Ao3 (I am so sorry to the anon who asked me about that I know it has been a while), and...might make a dedicated blog to act as an archive (pun very much intended) for them? I don't know, that's a pretty big maybe at the moment. And uh...once again, all the thanks in the world to everyone who followed my tma posts as they came out, it was a wonderful experience, and I hope you're open to whatever I make next. And...while I can't promise that I'll post about every thought I have on every tma episode going forward...you bet your ass I will have some things to say after MAG 200 (and probably TmagP 90...whenever that comes out.) Well uh...bye, I'm going to do some studying and then continue my replay of Deltarune Chapter 2 (where I will be reacquianted with Queen who is the best character ever made and no I will not be taking criticism.)

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taechaos · 3 years ago

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Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

#textbook love #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #networkbangtan #kpopnetwork

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

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chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter | extra content

✖ — chapter summary: after receiving a text from zeke, you go out to meet him, leaving porco behind. your head is full of questions and you're not quite sure how you're going to confront him about last night's events.

✖ — pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖ — chapter tags/warnings: college au, protected sex, zeke calls you a good girl, mentions and/or descriptions of parental emotional abuse/traumatic childhood, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating.

✖ — a/n: beta read by my friend @ofoceansandtombstones <3 the title of the chapter is a reference to “oh daddy” by fleetwood mac.

chapter two: oh daddy

The only sounds you could hear when you got to the tennis court Zeke asked you to meet at was the ball being hit with the rackets and grunts from the two blond men you were expecting to see. Even if Reiner was a part of the swimming team along with Zeke, he always indulged his friend into playing with him, especially in the early mornings.

Neither Zeke nor Reiner realized you were there, too focused on the game, so you walked to the bleachers and sat down, forearms resting on your knees and hunched back as you watched the game.

Reiner was one of your only friends that liked being around Zeke, which really baffled your mind as the only one who knew about your dirty laundry was Porco. Yet, even after two years of being together, Annie wouldn’t even try to start a conversation with Zeke the multiple times he was over at your place. Armin, being the sweetheart he was, tagged along with her, only saying hello or goodbye while making a beeline towards Annie’s room. Pieck, Marcel and Bertholdt also made sure to avoid interacting with him, each of them in their own ways.

You sighed, pressing the bridge of your nose. You didn’t have the time to worry about it that morning.

A hard hit from Reiner made Zeke miss the ball and turn around to retrieve it. This gave Reiner the chance to look around, waving at you when he noticed your presence. You gave him a small smile and waved back.

“Your girlfriend is here.”

Zeke turned around quickly, his grey-blue eyes finding yours. You hated how a smile crept up your lips even after the disastrous night you had spent. His boyish grin and friendly wave would always bring warmth to your chest, and that spoke about how much your heart still belonged to him.

Your eyes were so fixated on each other you didn’t notice Reiner chuckling softly at the way you were looking at each other. Walking around the court, he called up Zeke, startling him and shook his hand. You didn’t listen to what he was saying but after a short conversation, Reiner turned around, waving at you again and started walking out the court. Zeke gestured to join him and you nodded, getting up and walking to the court with your hands in your pockets.

The moment you stepped a foot inside the court, Zeke started walking to you and met you halfway. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your lips, humming happily to himself. You kissed him back half-heartedly, your hands still secure inside your pockets without an ounce of need to put them around his neck like usual.

“You look so beautiful,” he said once he pulled away, holding your face tenderly.

You gave him a strained smile.

“Why did you call me so early?” you sighed.

Zeke’s grin didn’t waver, instead pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Give me a second,” he said excitedly, before turning around and walking to the backpack that was against the wall. He left his tennis racket next to it and, after rummaging for a short while, he came back holding a baseball and a glove in his hand.

With a hand on the small of your back, he guided you until you were on the edge of the court. He carefully put the glove on your hand and ran back to the other edge of the court, both of you staying just on one side of the tennis court.

There was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to throw the glove away, stomp on it and demand answers from him but Zeke’s eager smile was nothing like you had seen before. He was really excited about this and even if you weren’t sure as to why , you felt compelled to follow along.

Zeke threw the ball at you and you took a couple of steps back to catch it with your glove. You winced in pain, your muscles still mad at you for drinking so much last night. You threw the ball as hard as you could but it didn’t reach your boyfriend, instead falling to the ground. Without saying a word, he shortened the distance between the two of you and threw the ball again.

A silent game of catch started between the two of you under the morning rays of sun. Seeing how happy Zeke was made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. He only smiled like that when he was around you, a huge grin on his face and a small couple of wrinkles on each side of his eyes. It was completely different from the way he smiled in social events and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing it was only you that could see him like this.

It had been almost two years since a junior that sat a few seats away from you at your History of Philosophy class had asked to take a look at your notes at the end of your second class. He confessed it was his third time taking the course as he has failed it twice already. It was his last chance to pass the course and he had seen you taking a lot of notes and answering questions right, hence he was asking for your help. You couldn’t help but giggle at the image of this tall junior asking for the help of a freshman but you agreed and even offered to help him prepare for the exam if he really needed it.

That was the first time he truly smiled at you. And since then you had been hooked.

From a hidden makeout session at the back of the library to him introducing you to his half-brother, you had suddenly become the ‘it couple’ on campus. Zeke always took you out to social gatherings along with his classmates, presenting you as his girlfriend and keeping an arm around your shoulders at all times, letting everyone know who you were with.

Time went by and he even took you to his grandparents’ house, a lovely old couple that lived on the edge of town. You had dinner with them and smiled as they went on and on about how much they loved and were proud of their grandson. As they told you endearing but slightly embarrassing stories about Zeke when he was a little kid, you couldn’t help but notice they didn’t mention his parents in any of the stories. When you went to the kitchen to help his grandmother bring the dessert you tried looking for a picture of his parents and didn’t find it either. But you knew better than to ask.

The conversation ran long and when you two noticed, it was already too late to drive back, so you both decided to stay at their house for the night. After his grandparents had gone to sleep, you sat in front of the chimney, sitting next to each other, your head on his shoulder and enjoying the soft music coming from his phone. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album was one of Zeke’s favourite albums and it was slowly starting to become yours as well.

A sniffle distracted your thoughts.

You pulled away immediately, kneeling and holding his face tenderly. It seemed Zeke had been crying for quite some time now and your eyes filled with worry.

“Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you whispered, your thumbs wiping the tears running down his cheeks to his beard.

“I miss him,” he mumbled.

“Your dad?” you asked softly.

Zeke shook his head and averted his gaze from you. You turned his head back to you again and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“You can talk to me, Zeke. Stronger together, right?” you said with a soft smile. He reciprocated it with a small nod.

Words fell from Zeke’s mouth like a broken dam, tears falling from his eyes quicker than you were able to kiss them away. You listened to him in silence, your fingers running across his dark blond locks, trying your best to soothe him as he tripped over his own words, painting a picture of his childhood.

He told you about their parents and their strong alliance with a political party when he was a kid. How they would talk to him about the party’s history and why he should be on their side, often getting irritated at him for not remembering all the details. He blamed himself for being too young to understand, for not paying enough attention when they talked to him about it. When a chance arrived for him to apply to a scholarship for middle school in a very prestigious private school, both his parents registered him, saying he should study hard to get that scholarship so he could start talking about the political party to the sons and daughters of the high class, so more people could support them.

But Zeke had never been good at school. He reminded you the reason you had met was that he had already failed a course twice, only salvaging it because you tutored him. So when he was ordered to get that scholarship, he studied day and night, sometimes not even going to bed because he wanted to make his parents happy and going to school without having slept even for a minute. But his scores were still low, igniting long and loud fights between his mom and dad, making him silently weep inside his bedroom as he listened to how much of a disappointment he was.

“You’re not a disappointment,” you interrupted him. His eyes that had been set on the chimney turned to you and he lifted the corners of his mouth.

You knew he didn’t believe you.

“They were taken by the police a few days before my scholarship exam. Turns out the political party they were into was… a bit radical.” He didn’t comment further and you thought it was best not to ask for details. “So I came to live with my grandparents. I was enrolled in public middle school and got a sports scholarship to get into university, hence why I’m a part of the swimming team.”

“Are they still…” your question died in your lips.

“In prison? No,” Zeke sighed, taking his glasses off and passing a hand across his face. “They got out after a couple of years. My mom died in a car accident shortly after and my dad remarried Eren’s mom. He lives with her now. Honestly, she’s a very sweet woman, she has always been kind to me. I don’t know how she stands him,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Even so, it’s okay to miss him, you know? Families are… complicated. So it wouldn’t be wrong for you to miss him from time to time.”

“I meant I miss Ksaver,” Zeke said, a sad smile on his lips. He took your hand in his, playing with it absentmindedly. “He was my science teacher at elementary school. He noticed how much I was struggling and how little sleep I was getting. He offered to tutor me some afternoons and we always ended up playing catch for a while before I had to go home. I think I was only able to go by because I could always look for spending my afternoons with him. We kept in touch when I went to middle school and he was always willing to help me out whenever I needed help with my classes or with the girls,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. “He lent me his jacket for my first date and he was the one I told about my first kiss with a girl in high school.”

You smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand softly.

“I wish I could have introduced you to him. But he… died, a couple of weeks after I started uni. Cancer. I never knew,” he said bitterly, biting the inside of his cheek. “So being here, listening to my grandparents tell you stories about when I was a kid… just made me remember him, you know? And shit— I really miss him.”

That night when you went to bed, you made sure to hold him a little tighter as he laid his body on top of yours. The feeling of his beard scratching your skin as he kissed your neck made you claw your nails on his muscular back. The room was filled with the sweetest breathy moans as you tried your best to be silent so you didn’t wake his grandparents up.

He pressed a long kiss on your lips before getting off of you, rummaging through his pants and trying to find a spare condom in his pockets. You waited as he put it on, fingertips gently tracing his forearms as a subtle reminder you were still there. Zeke hovered over you with a loving smile, his grey-blue eyes locked in yours making you feel as if you were the only woman he had ever even glanced at.

He slid into you, your lips parting as your body adjusted to his length. He started at a calm pace, his pelvis rubbing just right against your clit, making you see stars every time he moved. You held tightly on his muscular arms, moving your hips as you desperately craved for more.

It wasn’t long until he was pulling out of you, turning you on your stomach and thrusting inside of you again. It didn’t surprise you, he had always shown a preference for fucking you from behind.

Zeke’s hands were holding your waist tightly while he kept bucking his hips against you, his hot breath tickling your ear. The low grunts coming out of his mouth as he buried himself in you were all you could think about as you muffled your moans on the pillow. His fingers were digging on your skin, for sure leaving marks for you to find the next day, a hobby you had grown fond of ever since you started sleeping with Zeke. He was relentless, hips rutting against you without mercy, each thrust getting deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Shit, you give it so good to me, baby,” he grunted, bitting down on your shoulder. You whimpered, closing your fists on the sheets as you tried to arch your back even more to him. “Yeah, just like that— such a good girl to me.”

The way he increased his rhythm for a few seconds and then stilled behind you let you know he has reached his high. You felt as he rolled away from your body, lying on your side with a content smile, lips parted as he tried to regain his breath. You smiled softly at him and caressed his cheek with your knuckles.

Maybe it was a stretch, but you wished to have the power to stop him from ever getting hurt again. You wanted to protect that smile at all costs, not even letting the cold air touch him or anything that could ever threaten his well-being again. It was at that moment that you decided you would make sure he was the happiest man he could be as long as you were there.

As you saw Zeke smile as he threw the baseball, you remembered your vow. He was really the prettiest when he smiled. After your last throw, he caught it and gestured to you to come closer. He kissed you once again and this time you melted in his touch, the familiar taste of his lips taking you back to that night in front of the fire. He put the glove and baseball into his backpack and took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it.

“C’mon. Let's get breakfast.”

Finding an isolated spot on campus was easy, both of you sitting down under a tree. On your way there, Zeke had bought a couple of juice boxes from a vending machine and once you had gotten comfortable on the ground you realized he had packed a couple of sandwiches for both of you. You took one and smiled at him as a thank you.

“Have you thought about trying out for the baseball team? Bet you would do great there,” you commented, taking your first bite.

“I… I honestly haven’t played in forever,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “Hell, I hadn’t played like this since Ksaver died.”

“What changed?” you asked softly.

“Found this baseball while looking through my tennis stuff this morning as I was leaving to play with Reiner. So I brought them with me because…” he made a pause, looking down at his sandwich. “I wanted to play with you. I wanted to— to share this with you. You know how much it means to me and I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to do this with after all these years.”

You smiled at his words and right when you were leaning to kiss him, the memory of Yelena leaving his house hit you. Right. You had seen them, how had you forgotten about this?

Zeke noticed the way your smile dropped and furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“I saw her kissing you,” you said, in a makeshift stern voice. Zeke’s frown deepened.

“What?”

“Yelena. I saw you kissing Yelena last night when she left your house,” you said, the pressure on your chest making it hard to talk. You took a deep breath, trying to alleviate it.

“Wait, wait, last night? Where were you?” he asked, confused.

“I— a few houses away. I wanted to say hi but I saw her and— I saw you two kissing, Zeke, aren't you going to say anything?” you demanded, your voice breaking at the end.

“Baby, I was confused as to why you were saying this because we didn’t kiss. I have never kissed Yelena in my life.”

“Zeke, I saw you,” you said in a pained voice. “I fucking saw you and—”

“Wait, was that why you called?” he interrupted you. “I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I’m just having trouble understanding because we never kissed. The closest thing to that happening was Yelena kissing my cheek goodnight and that’s it.”

“But I—”

“You just said you were a couple of houses away. Don’t you think you could have confused a friendly kiss on the cheek with her kissing my lips? As if I would ever let her,” Zeke said, taking a sip of his juice. “She knows how much I’m in love with you. Hell, I’ve even told her how I plan to marry you once you graduate.”

You felt your cheeks heating at his words and then immediately shook your head, trying to focus.

“Porco saw you too.”

At this, Zeke’s calm expression turned into a disgusted one.

“Baby, please,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Porco will say anything to get you away from me. You know he’s in love with you, right?” he asked. You averted his gaze, looking down at your sandwich. “He’s so obvious about it. He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me enough for him to get a chance. Bet he kept insisting on you leaving me after you mistakenly believed Yelena kissed me last night.”

Memories of Porco’s arms around your body and his hazel eyes looking at you as he kissed your palm crept inside your head, guilt leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Zeke was right. You were a few houses apart and all you had seen was her kissing the corner of his mouth, never a full kiss on the lips. And on top of that, you had been drinking a lot. There was a big chance you had perceived the moment differently and… Porco had definitely egged you on your distrust.

“You did nothing wrong,” Zeke assured you, taking one of your hands in his. “You trust people too much, you’re too good. But please don’t believe Porco’s intentions are innocent in any way.”

You nodded, keeping your head down. At this, Zeke scooted over to your side, grabbing your face gently and kissing your forehead. You smiled at his action and lifted your face until your lips met. A chaste kiss was exchanged, making the both of you smile.

“I’m sorry for… insisting on this but can I ask you something else about last night?” you asked in a small voice.

Zeke nodded. “Sure, anything that will make you feel better.”

“Why was Yelena with you last night? Why did she leave so late?”

“Yelena was going through a rough time, stuff with her family and the fact she likes girls,” Zeke explained, biting down on his sandwich. “Her family is very religious so it’s… a touchy subject. She needed to talk and we did just that— talk until she was feeling better.”

You nodded, still with a small frown on your face.

“But I asked you, I— I called you and I asked if the movies were fun by yourself.”

“And I told you I always preferred watching movies alone,” Zeke reminded you. “I didn’t lie, I really do. I’ve told you this before. Besides, I didn’t just want to air out her business. It was private for a reason.”

“But her Instagram—”

“Darling, don’t mind her. Please, as far as I know, she could have made that post in case her family saw it. She’s not even out on campus, so… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But don’t think about it too hard. She’s my friend but trust me when I say she’s not worth your time.”

You felt stupid. So damn stupid for ever believing Zeke was cheating on you. All of Yelena’s Instagram photos made so much sense now that you knew she was trying to present herself as straight. Surely you would have preferred her to use any other guy than your boyfriend but… it just made sense. Since Zeke was the only one that knew about her sexuality, she made sure not to foolishly lead him on since he knew it was all a charade.

And the fact Zeke wasn’t asking about Porco— God, you didn’t deserve him. You had just admitted to being outside with Porco at three in the morning and he hadn’t batted an eye. He didn’t need proof or to interrogate you to trust you would never cheat on him.

“Stop worrying your pretty head around it. We’re good, okay?” he assured you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Let's just forget about this whole thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

Zeke took one last bite of his sandwich, shaking his hands to get rid of the crumbs. He scooted until his back was against the tree and pulled you by your wrist, content in how you were giggling as he set you between his legs, with your back on his chest.

“Thank you for meeting me this early without notice. When I found Ksaver’s baseball I just knew I wanted to share that moment with you,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder and putting his arms around your waist. “I’m so weak when it comes to… remembering things from my past. But I know I can always count on you. You’re so much stronger than I am. Always have been.”

Your mind went back to Porco pushing you away after you tried to kiss him just a few hours ago.

“I don’t know about that,” you whispered.

“But you are. And that’s one of the reasons I’m so in love with you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. “One of the reasons I plan to ask you to marry me as soon as you graduate. We’re stronger together, remember?”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Yes,” you nodded with a soft smile .”We are.”

348 notes · View notes

aomineavenue · 4 years ago

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Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!:

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience.

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan and @sunshinesero for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series.

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much.

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were.

You wouldn’t trade this for anything.

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love.

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips.

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.”

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.”

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin.

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.”

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.”

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair.

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter.

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-”

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness.

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give.

“Yes.”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya imagine #atsumu miya #homesick #atsumu miya smau

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spyrothesquish-0006 · 4 years ago

Note

Crack Ask: Henry from Fire Emblem Awakening as MC in Obey Me headcanons.

Anon, I hope you know how much goddamn joy this ask brought me😂😂 sorry for the wait, school shit was kicking my ass for a bit, but I hope you enjoy!!

Henry from Fire Emblem Awakening waking up as MC in Obey Me

Henry:

• oh boy Henry would have so much fun

• you're telling him there's 7???? Demons???? He gets to live with and pester with questions about magic and experiment on learn about???

• he'd be absolutely delighted

• but probably wouldn't realize that he's in the devildom and would just assume it's some weird part of Ylisse he's never seen

• would also probably think the brothers are just *really* good looking Risen

• hot damn would he be sweatin'

• he's looking respectfully No, no he's not.

Lucifer:

• oh no

• he definitely notices that Henry seems a little....off

• he shows surpsingly no fear whatsoever at meeting 7 demon lords

• Lucifer is Concerned™️

• has no idea what he's talking about when Henry mentions Ylisse and "Risen"

• automatically assumes he's a loon and requests for Diavolo to send him back

• when Diavolo refuses, he is more than irritated

• for a short time, Lucifer almost comes to like Henry

• his constant curiosity about him strokes his ego quite nicely

• until it becomes annoying and Henry wants to do some "experiments" on him

• he threatens Henry on numerous occasions but no matter what punishment he inflicts, Henry only laughs

Mammon:

• is immediately distrustful of Henry because he's just so damn weird??

• his distrust isn't helped by the fact that Henry takes an odd liking to Mammon

• Mammon is generally surrounded by shiny things and Henry is drawn to shiny things

• he begins trusting Henry more when he randomly starts giving Mammon advice on how to steal things

• he soon learns that Henry is surprisingly good at pick-pocketing

• any distrust Mammon has towards Henry is quickly forgotten once he sees how he is around his own crows

• Mammon's crows soon take a liking to Henry as well

• they start bringing shiny stuff back to the both of them, and Henry's crows end up doing the same thing

• Mammon and Henry are now the sole members of the Caw Caw Committee (named by Henry)

• Henry is usually who Mammon goes to to get goldie back from Lucifer

• Mammon doesn't know how he does it, but Henry never disappoints in getting his wallet back

Levi:

• to say that Henry disturbs him is an understatement

• his general personality is very much the opposite of Levi

• at first, Levi stays in his room even more and refuses to be alone in a room with Henry

• his comfort levels steadily go up around Henry once he realizes that he's actually not half bad..?

• Henry is really no worse than some con goers Levi as met when it comes to his odd fixations

• Levi soon succeeds in getting Henry obsessed with TSL

• now Levi *really* considers him "his" Henry

• they both end up annoying everyone else in the house because they will not stop cackling at random animes or video games very late at night

• with Henry around, Levi really never sleeps

• and he isn't complaining, Henry quickly becomes his best bud

Satan:

• is one of the only brothers who takes an immediate liking to Henry

• he may be a bit eccentric sure, but his love for studying magic really wins Satan over

• Henry is always down for experimenting which Satan takes great joy in

• he can finally study humans like he wants to!!! And Lucifer won't stop him

• surprisingly, Satan really doesn't mind if Henry wants to do experiments on him

• his logic is Henry lets him do experiments to study humans, so it's only fair, right?

• Satan particularly enjoys experimenting with Henry's pain tolerance

• wants to find out what Henry's limit *really* is

• only because if certain schemes against Lucifer go wrong, Satan really doesn't want Henry to end up hurt

• Henry and Satan often spend the majority of their time reading together and sharing random magic knowledge/random facts in general

• Henry absolutely adores that Satan is like a walking encyclopedia

• they often hatch plans to mess with Lucifer

• not because Henry doesn't like him, he just thinks pranks are funny even if they're against one of the most powerful demons in the devildom

• Satan can't tell whether he's disturbed by it, or whether he admires Henry's lack of fear and impulse control

Asmo:

• he initially hated Henry

• he couldn't understand why Henry had such an odd fascination with blood

• what if it ruined his clothes!!!!

• Asmo tolerated Henry for a while

• until an experiment Henry did with his makeup resulted in Asmo's face turning green for a day

• Asmo screamed so loud half the devildom heard him

• he usually tries to avoid Henry now

• also does not trust any gifts Henry gives him even though Henry means well

• he genuinely wants to make it up to Asmo for ruining his makeup

• he resorts to having his crows drop off gifts in the form of makeup supplies which Asmo takes, assuming they're from Mammon

Beel:

• he's pretty indifferent to Henry in the beginning

• he finds him a little odd, but as long as Henry doesn't steal his food, this demon really doesn't care

• Henry surprisingly takes a liking to Beel, experimenting to find out what Beel will/won't eat

• Henry is both equally perplexed and ecstatic to find out that there's really nothing Beel *won't* eat

• actually, scratch that, Beel refuses to eat Henry's cooking

• it's somehow worse than Solomon's which no one thought was possible

• besides that, Beel is pretty chill with Henry

• Henry takes a surpsing liking to watching Fangol games so he always makes sure to be in the stands for any of Beel's games

• cheers him on very loudly

• Beel is very protective of this little Mage

Belphie:

• wanted absolutely nothing to do with Henry

• found him incredibly annoying and way too loud when he was just trying to sleep

• avoided him for the most part

• until he learned that Henry loves playing pranks and doling out curses

• Belphie's mind starts going wild with all the things they can do to Lucifer

• these two quickly become a menace within the HoL

• always scheming together and with Satan on their side as well, nothing is impossible for them

• Lucifer feels his blood pressure rising with each passing day

• after a particularly nasty hex, Henry and Belphie find themselves grounded in the attic

• Belphie is displeased at first, still slightly irritated with how loud Henry can get

• but then realizes that Henry makes a very comfy pillow

• Henry isn't able to move for the rest of the time they're stuck in the attic

• somewhat considers just hexing himself to turn into a pillow if Belphie is going to use him as one anyways

• Belphie says no because a pillow can't pet him and play with his hair

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem headcanons #obey me headcanons #fire emblem henry #fire emblem awakening henry #headcanons #creative writing #writing

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divinitysheart · 2 years ago

Note

one bouquet from my boys: (you can talk about or a little, you just deserve flowers!) 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Daww thank you !! :D But boy oh boy is this post going to be long because I have thoughts running through my head 24/7 haha

Firstly, I'm just going to start off with my xenoblade chronicles 2 thoughts and feelings because there's so very much. To start off, the game gets a lot of hate for it's fanservice-y stuff, in which it's okay to not like fanservice stuff! I personally also don't like fan service either, but that's all people make it out to be when there's so much more to the game than fan service. I kid you not every time I still bawl my eyes out to certain things that happen within the game even though I KNOW they're gonna happen. But that may be because this game holds so much sentimental value to me due to it being my first jrpg I ever completed and STILL play today. And while yes, some parts of it I'm personally not fond of myself are in it, I still love the game and the cast! Especially my son Rex hehe.

I actually have so many more muses I want to add to this blog but if I did there would be way too many xenoblade muses to count LOLL, the whole xenoblade chronicles 2 cast lives in my head rent free pretty much!! And there are a lot more but I cannot think them up right now. Long story short ;; I have a lot of muses that live in my head but not on my blog haha

In my free time I like to try and draw my muses of write private drabbles for them because they're in a certain mood and they want to express it! And the reason why I say private drabbles is because how much I write on said drabble can vary and I just typically like perfecting my writing if I publish the drabble to tumblr and sometimes I don't feel like it djkjjfkhg

I have an absolutely horrible habit of imagining scenarios in my head to music and not writing it out, especially when I'm heavily fixating on a fandom. Or just in general! In which causes me to end up missing things such as messages and other things.

I don't think I've ever actually stated this before, not that I should really need to but I kinda want to say it now, but I do have diagnosed ADHD in which makes things hard for me to actually do sometimes. It affects not only my writing but my activity as well due to certain aspects of it. Which is why I'm always so glad for everyone's patience with me not only because I'm a newer writer compared to most of my partners, but because my ADHD does sometimes has it days where makes me just not able to do things.

I actually listen to any kind of music when it comes to writing, but in specific I've come to find music box lullabies to be one of the most productive music's I've ever worked to. But besides that, I typically have a character playlist to set me in the mood for a specific muse.

I really love symbolism and parallels so very much in writing it's really ridiculous at this point, like if you point out a subtle symbolism in a movie or book or just in general that makes the meaning of something just even a little bit better I will loose my mind because I genuinely think little details like that are so cool.

Okay, I thought I'd gotten off my xb//c2 rambling train but I'm not yet! I love the game a lot yes and it's very helpful and open to crossovers because of a specific DLC, but if anyone ever asks me to help them come up with a XB//C2 VERSE, I will accept no hesitation because so much of the lore is stored up right in my little head.

Oh another fun fact about xb//c2, normua did the designs of the main antagonistic group Torna. Another thing would be that Cloud and Jin share the same japanese VA !! I just think little things like these are neat.

Jin is genuinely such a complex character to write but that's what I love about him as a character, because he's genuinely such an interesting antagonist because he USED to be aligned against Malos ( another antagonistic figure ) before the events of xb//c2 but because of certain events he becomes allies with Malos. It's a lot to explain but to say the least the way his character develops is interesting and it'd need a post of itself if I were to go fully in depth.

I recently got into Persona 5 and it is genuinely such a good piece of media to me and I love it so very much, especially with how it handles it's characters. And it has me considering to add a persona 5 muse(s) eventually, not now but some time in the future if I'm feeling confident with writing a character.

I don't get to say it often enough but if you're from a fandom I know not much about, chances are I'll do research about your fandom and maybe watch an anime/video game playthrough/book and ect. because I love to find new fandoms I can dip into

I find it funny how more times than not I end up becoming friends with people older than me and they more than often call me baby. Because while it's endearing, at the same time I'm just so used to being the older person in most of my IRL friend groups pffft ( also little note: I'm always safe when I'm making friends with people that're older than me, I take internet safety very seriously! )

I do actually have an occupation, it just doesn't take up as much of my time online as it used to about a year or so ago because some don't stream anymore while others don't stream as often. I mod on twitch for quite a decent amount of people. It was 23 people the last time I checked, and while I may not get paid with actual money I'm just actually happy to be there and make sure the stream's a safe space for people. ( They do make sure I do not overwork myself though fshjdfj)

I often get assumed to be older than I actually am both in real life and online, so if you ever think I’m older than I am on accident don’t worry it’s happens a lot more than you’d think LOLL

#muses-of-kira #✦ resting point ✦ ooc #( pov eden info dumps about 5 million things at once hoping it makes sense fhjhjgfjhf )#( but seriously if anyone has any questions about xb//c2 I will answer them to the best of my ability )

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kur0m1bab3 · 4 years ago

Text

A Bittersweet Miracle

BokutoxBlackFem!reader

3rd person POV

Cw:Angst fluff, slightly mature, mentions of pregnancy, college!Au

Unedited

"Well what does it say?" Akaashi asked curiously craning his neck a bit to try to glance at the plastic stick set in y/n's hand.

Y/n looked away biting her lip as she blindly handed him the pregnancy test.

"Two lines means positive right?" The older male asked as y/n stayed silent nodding her head as she kept her gaze fixated on the brown wooden floors of her kitchen.

A soft smile graced Akaashis face as he walked over to y/n leaning down a bit.he poked her cheek lightly as she puffed her cheeks out, desperately trying To keep her gaze on the ground only for her to crack a small smile at Akaashi's constant poking.

"There she is" Akaashi smiled pulling y/n into a warm embrace. Y/n sighed into the hug as Akaashi pulled away.

"I'm gonna be a god father" Akaashi said happily as y/n laughed.

"Mhmn you are" she smiled.

Akaashi pulled away from y/n as he looked at her for a while as he lifted an eyebrow.

"You don't seem too happy?" Akaashi said as y/n shook her head.

"I am...m'not sure how I'm really supposed to react though..I mean I cried when I found out I was so happy.......but my kid is going to grow up fatherless so I'm kinda ya know...out of it" y/n spoke truthfully as Akaashi nodded.

"You going to tell him?" Akaashi asked as he began to grab pot and pans from the cabinets, probably about to make a celebratory meal for the mother to be and the others planning to come over.

"Don't know. Part of me wants to the other part of me doesn't" y/n said sitting on the island stool as Akaashi hummed looking at her.

"Y/n you guys were together for more than a year and a half...not to mention you guys lived together for most of your college career.....He deserves to know" Akaashi spoke out as y/n bit her lip looking down.

"I know...but,we broke up for a reason" y/n said as Akaashi clicked his tongue looking at the younger girl.

"You mean you broke up with him" Akaashi said putting an emphasis on you as y/n waved Akaashi off.

"It was mutual" y/n said rubbing her stomach softly smiling. Akaashi put down the wooden spoon he had been holding as he walked over to the island y/n was sitting at.

He leaned on the island as he looked at y/n intently.

"Bokuto never wanted to break up it wasn't mutual" Akaashi said sternly as y/n bit her lip looking away.

Kotaro Bokuto. The love of y/n's life that just so happened to be her ex. The pair had know each other for years, their history together going back all the way to middle school. They had always been attracted to each other, no doubt about it.

The cute smiles they gave each other during gym, or the extra chocolates teddy bears they'd give one another on Valentine's Day, the way y/n would wear his jersey to games, it was honestly all too obvious.

Once their 3rd year hit, their attraction to each other grew almost unbearable leading to the faithful Halloween night the two hooked up in the closet of their friends kuroos house.

Wasn't the ideal place considering the two teens got caught by a group of 5 pestering boys from differing schools, they just So happen to call friends, just as they reached their climaxes. The two never being able to live down the embarrassing ordeal and a rule set in place by the one and only tetsuro kuroo,stating that the pair had to be no closer than 8 feet away from each other in his house.

Clearly that rule was broken a few times, but what doesn't kill kuroo will only make him..make him...who knows honestly.Besides the point by some miraculous twisted miracle the close knit friend group ended up going to the same college together.

Their living arrangements was an interesting one. Of course all of the boys wanted y/n to live with them, they were all like a horde of bodyguards, it could be quite annoying at times having a group of guys tell an adult woman to go put on sweats in 100 degree heat instead of wearing shorts,but that's what you get when you surround yourself with a bunch of guys who were like brothers.

None of the boys wanted y/n to live alone, especially with a roommate. They hated the idea of her spending all of her time with someone she barley knew(mainly oikawa). Which is how they came up with the idea of pairing Bokuto and y/n to live together.

Was it the best idea to pair up two people who had clear sexual history and extreme feelings for each other? Maybe not. Did it happen? Of course it did considering who the boys were and how they wanted to play match maker.

The living arrangement lead to some interesting encounters. Eventually the two finally got together. It wasn't easy considering y/n was very stubborn and Bokuto was just too shy(ironic right?) to admit his feelings towards the younger girl.

Their personalities were an interesting pair.

Y/n was more on the introverted side, never really showed her emotions and kept to herself for the most part. Sarcasm was a second language to her, there was never a moment she didn't have someone rolling in laughter due to her quick wittedness or outright weird behavior.

Bokuto on the other hand was quite different. A clear extrovert who never failed to brighten up the room. His bright character was always a joy to be around, never quite knowing what he'd say or do leaving a kind of mysterious and almost mischievous aura about himself.Much like y/n he kept his emotions to himself and hid how he really felt, which proved catastrophic or their relationship.

The two loved each other so much it was kind of sickening to be around. The constant loving stares of sneaky kisses caused the other to normally cringe or throw pillows at the pair telling them to get a room. But much like the great sonatas of masterminds like Beethoven or Mozart, the beautiful pairs relationship,had a grand crescendo and a beautifully haunting decrescendo.

They were just bad at relationships. Mainly due to the lack of emotions between the two, and by that I mean the hiding of emotions. Their communication skills were way off, neither one of them knowing how to confront the other when they seemed to be at rock bottom which caused a huge rift in their relationship.

"Bokuto we need to stop seeing each other....we b-broke up a month a-ago"y/n whimper out softly as Bokuto continued to place light kisses along her neck.

Bokuto squeezed her waist tightly pushing her deeper into the wall as he pulled away from her neck meeting her eyes.

His eyes were glossed over, lust and sadness swimming through the cesspools of his golden irises as he breathed heavily.

A frown sat on his face as he shook his head, his slightly fallen hair tickling y/n's forehead. Y/n always thought his hair suited him so well. He looked so wild and young it made her knees buckle a bit.

".....just...let me have this..." Bokuto whispered against y/n's lips. That's all it took for y/n to attack Bokutos lips earning a small moan of admiration from him as he swiftly picked her up bringing her into their once shared bedroom.

The room was dark causing y/n's vision to completely cancel out making her hyper aware of her surroundings. Bokuto gently placed her on the bed kissing her cheek softly.

Y/n scrunched her eyes in confusion as she felt tiny droplets of water hit her face. She gently wiped her face as she tried to figure out the source of the water.

The moonlight from the night sky shined brightly into the room, as y/n fixated her eyes on the male hovering above her.

Bokuto had his eyes closed tightly as tears ran down his face continuously. He held a pained expression on his face as he visibly began to shake, his breathing speeding up as he sobbed quietly causing y/n to freeze all her actions.

Bokuto opened his eyes looking down at the girl beneath him. She looked at bit concerned mouth slightly agape,but more so shocked as tears hit her face from above. The pained look on Bokutos face caused y/n to well up with tears as well as the pair stared at eachother tears rolling down their faces.

They couldn't tell you what it was that caused them to do this, but their lips collided once again as their tears and lips synched together in perfect harmony as clothes began to be discarded at an unholy speed.

Bokuto leaned up as he caresses y/n's face softly, tears rolling down both of their faces as he smiled weakly, knowing this would be the last time the two ever got to experience the touch of each other in such an intimate and close way.with that Bokuto began to cry harder as he looked down at the love of his life.

"I love you" he whispered as he silenced both his and y/n's sobs with a kiss that set the mood for the entirety of the night. Slow, passionate and heartbreaking.

That's faithful night was two months ago. Y/n only finding out about her sudden pregnancy a month after their encounter.

"....we needed to break up..what happened happened" y/n said shrugging as Akaashi sighed running a hand down his face.

"What happened is that you broke up with him because for whatever reason the two of you couldn't talk your feelings out like adults. And like a love sick little puppy Bokuto agreed because he'd do anything to make you happy.you guys broke up but continued to sleep around to try to fulfill the heavy feelings you two still obviously have for each other and now you're pregnant with your ex's kid" Akaashi said truthfully as y/n frowned.

"Jesus next time sugar coat it a bit will ya?"

Y/n said standing up going over to the pot that was currently on the stove boiling noodles.

Akaashi swiftly pushed y/n away as he looked at her.

"How long have you known ?" Akaashi asked as y/n leaned back onto the kitchen counter.

"A month..I didn't show symptoms right away, that is until I missed my period and started throwing up in the middle of the night." Y/n said as Akaashi looked at her then her stomach before placing a hand on her stomach gently.

"Are you now just starting to show?" Akaashi asked as y/n nodded lifting up her shirt a bit.

"You can barley tell it just looks like I'm bloated" y/n said making a face as the sound her front door suddenly opening caught the twos attention.

"Akaashi? Y/n?" A voice said as y/n peeked her head around the coroner. She smiled bright seeing kuroo and konoha at the door taking their shoes off.

"I'm the kitchen" y/n said as she hopped on the counter. Footsteps were heard as the two men appeared in the kitchen.

"I can never understand how your kitchen looks so clean all the time. It's like you never cook in here" konoha said as he made a face lifting up the top of the pot that the noodles were boiling in, only for him to get slapped in the head by Akaashi, earning a loud ouch from the younger male.

"It's called cleaning aki" y/n hummed as kuroo walked over to the group of adults.

"Akaashis cooking....so whats the occasion?" kuroo said propping an elbow up on the island looking at y/n as konoha nodded.

"Yeah last time Akaashi cooked was when he bought those ugly ass sugar gliders home from the pet store" konoha said making a face as Akaashi turned around kicking konoha in the shin causing y/n and kuroo to laugh.

"You not bout to sit here and disrespect them in my face. You better be glad we in y/n's house or else I would've kick yo ugly ass" Akaashi sneered as konoha flicked him off.

Y/n grabbed the pregnancy test from off the the counter as she held it up.

"I'm pregnant" y/n said smiling handing kuroo the test as both boys stared at the test wide eyed.

"Seriously?!" konoha shouted as y/n nodded. He quickly picked her up squeezing her tight as he hugged her.

"YOU'RE PREGNANT!" kuroo yelled grabbing y/n from konoha as he hugged her tight.

Y/n laughed as konoha hid his face in his hands as he began to cry.He tetsuro, atsumu and oikawa were all such cry babies . Y/n laughed a bit already knowing how overdramatic atsumu and oikawa would be once they found out about the pregnancy.

"I can't believe this" konoha said smiling widely as y/n laughed.

"Y'all are both so overdramatic" y/n laughed as kuroo began dancing around the apartment.

"Overdramatic?! That's my god child you're talking about!" kuroo scolded as he walked up to y/n hugging her once again.

konoha sniffed a bit as he looked at

y/n,realization hitting him like a truck as he stopped crying looking At y/n intently, before sighing a bit laying his head on y/n's shoulder.

"Y/n....it's Bokutos isn't it?" He asked wiping his tears as y/n sighed. A small smile on her face as she looked at the boys sadly.

"Yeah..it is.."

A/N: I hope y’all like this🧍🏾‍♀️FIRST TIME KINDA NERVOUS🤪

#anime x black!reader #haikyuu!! x black reader #black reader #haikyuu!! x poc! reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kur0m1.writes

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Text

I hate it when you stare

Wow here I am with another part, another fic. Ignooooree my typooos. Is this more soft smut? No one told me last time if what I wrote counts so uhhhhhhh

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

I really do have work to do for my class at 2:30 tomorrow but instead I finished this, so I hope you like this!

_______________________

“How is it bullshit? Everyone can tell that we’re in love with each other.”

“So, what, because other people believe it, that automatically means it’s true?”

--------------

Evelina was visiting home for the weekend for her mom’s birthday, which meant that you had the apartment to yourself. From Friday after work until Sunday night, you were free to do whatever you wanted by yourself. Or, you thought you were going to be doing whatever you wanted until your boss texted you saying that he wanted your project finished by Monday so you could present it that afternoon. That meant you were posted up on the couch, your hair tied in a bun on top of your head, a mug full of coffee, another of tea, and a cup with water all in front of you, the blanket normally on the back of your couch now draped over your shoulders. It was a full call to the hungover days you had back in undergrad when you woke up late and were struggling to finish the work you had due the next morning.

“It’s me!” you hear a familiar voice call from the door, snapping you out of what might have been the first and only roll you had been on working on the project.

You look up to see Matthew coming over the couch, plastic bags in hand to plop down on the table. “Remind me to change the locks.”

“That would mean you have to get up to let me in, though,” he sends a wink in your direction.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though you felt butterflies throughout your entire body at the sight of him looking so comfortable next to you. It was just because he’s a guy, not because it’s Matthew. You let out a quiet sigh as he fiddles with the remote to your TV. “Who says I wouldn’t leave you in the hallway? Plus, I thought you were supposed to have practice today?” you ask, trying to focus more on your project than on him.

“We’re done, and we don’t have a game for three days for once, so we’re resting up. I figured, why not come see my favorite girl?” he says, resting his hand on your shin once your drape your legs over his lap.

“Because Taryn is in St. Louis so you settled for me instead?”

He scoffs, slowly running his hand up and down your bare leg while his eyes fixate on the television screen. He had to be able to feel the goosebumps that he was causing with his touch. “Fine, my favorite girl in Calgary unless Taryn is visiting, are you happy?”

“Am I ever happy when I’m around you?” you tease, lifting only your eyes from your screen to look at him. Still staring at the TV, you can see the smile on his face, but it almost looks like his jaw is clenching, like he’s fighting saying something back.

“And how could I not be happy around you when you treat me like that?” Your eyes linger for a second on his smile before scanning the rest of his body. Even under the long-sleeved dry fit shirt he was wearing, you could see the outline of the muscles that graced his abdomen. His arms looked like they were begging to rip the seam of the shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to take it off of him and just let them free. “Do you like what you see, babe?” you hear him say, snapping you out of the thoughts you were convincing yourself meant nothing as he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m trying to picture you as a more attractive guy,” you lie, “It would be so nice if Elias were here, wouldn’t it?”

“If you’re implying that you want a threesome, then I don’t think I could do it with a teammate,” he laughs, his fingers tightening around your shin. Would Elias be better than Matthew? Any guy would be better than Matthew, you tell yourself. He’s your best friend, and nothing more.

“What have I said about being crude?” you ask him, fixating your eyes on the way he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna go get my headphones so I can do this project.” You bolt from the living room to your bedroom, leaving Matthew there by himself while you search for your phone in a panic.

“Hey, is everything ok?” Evelina says on the other end of the phone call as you try to search for your AirPods in the mess that was your room.

“No, Matthew is here.”

“And that’s bad because?” she asks, drawing out her last word.

Groaning, you drop your phone on your desk, prompting Matthew to call to you asking if you were ok. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Turning back to Evelina, clearly in a panic that she could hear in your voice, “Matthew is here and I think I’m horny.”

“You’re always horny for him because you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him and I’m honry because I haven’t been touched by a man in like, three months. It’s starvation.”

You hear her groan on the other end, her parents voices in the background. “Hold on, I need to go into another room,” she says. “Ok, so you really told me two days when you got home that you and Matthew nearly fucked in public in the liquor store. You have been touched by a man. He was also practically feeling you up at the bar a week ago, might I remind you.”

“I don’t love him,” you say, unprompted, “And he never even kissed me.”

“Says that hickey that you somehow didn’t notice he gave you?” she says, you turning to your mirror to touch the mark she was talking about. You honestly didn’t know it was there until she said something to you when you walked in the door. “If you don’t love him, why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

“I want company and he’s the only thing I have when you aren’t here. Really, this is all your fault.”

“That was so sweet until you blamed me. If you don’t want him to leave then what’s the problem?”

“Horny,” you say at the same time. “Either do something about it or control yourself, babe, but I’ve gotta go. Miss you, love you,” she says, hanging up when you finally find your AirPods.

Pulling up your playlist so it’s already playing when you get to Matthew, you don’t even look at him as you take your computer back in your lap and throw your legs in his. You can feel his eyes tracing the outline of your body even under the baggy sweatshirt you had on from a college you never went to.

You had worked for what was probably a solid half hour, Matthew mindlessly rubbing his hand on your leg like he did before, you needing to do everything in your power to stop from thinking about and wanting more. You were interrupted by Matthew reaching over and tugging on the hem of your shorts. “Are you really listening to Christmas music right now?”

“Is it that loud?” you ask, turning the volume down immediately.

“No, I can read your lips. You were mouthing ‘Feliz Navidad,’ and ‘Sleigh Ride.’”

“Oh, then, yes,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment that you didn’t even realize you were doing that.

“It’s March, babe.”

“Ok, but Christmas music is fine year round.”

“No?” he questions.

“So I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong,” you start, moving your computer to the table so you don’t drop it, provoking a laugh to escape from his lips, “While I don’t agree with all things in Catholic and the broader Christian doctrine, there are things I can agree with basically because they are up for interpretation, so I interpret them in the way I like. Take, for example, the ninth commandment: love thy neighbor. Some people take it as a literal ‘love thy neighbor’ as in ‘be a good neighbor,’ to the ones who live next door, but I think it’s a matter of caring for those around you, neighbor not being the person immediately next to you wherever you live, but just other people in general.”

“What is your point?” he asks, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“My point is that the Bible, which is the end all be all of Catholic doctrine according to some people, is up for interpretation and people use it the way that benefits them, no matter how wrong they normally are. In Hebrews 13:15, it says, “Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name,” thereby, justifying and promoting listening to Christmas music year round. It praises Jesus, who is one of the persons that make up God, and doing year round is continuous.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Hey, if people can be assholes and use a 2,000 year old book to try to wrongly justify their bigotry and homophobia, why can’t I use it to rightly justify my listening to christmas music all year?”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about it and keep the things that I like with me. I’m not Jesuit but I follow their ideals like ‘care for the whole person’ and ‘be a man or woman with and for other.’ And Evelina’s parents are very religious, so we kind of put up a front whenever they visit to please them. They still think we go to Mass every Sunday.”

“Is that why there’s sometimes a crucifix by the door?” he asks, you nodding along. “And that weird Jesus magnet where he has a chefs hat and it says ‘fish and bread are served’ underneath him?”

“Yeah, I think her dad superglued that to the fridge because no matter how many times we’ve tried to get it off it won’t budge. Plus it’s a reference to another Bible passage.”

“I went to a Catholic high school, remember? I already knew that.” You can’t help but return the smile he was sending your way, this time your eyes flicking down to his lips, you unsure if his were doing the same. You snap out of it, biting your lip and making eye contact with Matthew, both of you breathing slightly unevenly at just thinking about what you could do with each other. Was Evelina right that you two loved each other?

No, she couldn’t be right, because you didn’t love him. You pick your computer back up to get back to work, not saying another word as Matthew turned back to the TV. You hit a deadend, finding yourself back to staring at Matthew’s perfect face while his eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips at something funny on whatever movie or show he was watching.

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, Matthew’s head snapping to your direction as you cover your face with your hands. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He reaches over and pulls your hands from your face, intertwining his fingers in yours. “Take a break, I brought food for us.”

“You didn’t cook it yourself, did you?” you ask. The last time he had made food for you, you were sick for a week from what you’re sure was food poisoning from something being undercooked.

He laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing your palms. You could feel your breathing get shallow by this, trying to ignore it while he’s talking to you. “No, I got it from the store down the road, already made. Mac and Cheese!” he says, pulling it out of the bag.

You roll your eyes at his stupidity. “Matthew, we’ve been sitting here for over two hours, why would you leave that on the table instead of in the fridge?”

“It’s still warm!” he argues, opening it, “Oh and it smells so bad.” You burst out laughing as he cringes, closing it immediately. “I’ll order something else.”

You get up to go throw out the now rancid mac and cheese in the kitchen. “Hey, where do you want to order from?” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen behind you.

The list.

It’s on the fridge.

Practically throwing yourself at it to try to tear it down in time, you rip it off the fridge and fold it up in your hand just in time for Matthew to come in. “Are you ok?” he asks you, noticing your slightly faster breathing and your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, the smell was just bad,” you lie to him, shoving the list in the band of your shorts. “And I was looking at the Jesus magnet.”

“That thing is so creepy,” he says, both of you looking at it. Knowing Matthew, you try as discreetly as possible to move the paper to your front so he can’t feel it as he inevitably presses his front to your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. Without thinking, you reach up to touch his hands as he rests his head on yours. “It’s way too white to be Jesus.”

His arms move their way down your body, settling around your waist as he starts to nibble at your ear. “God, you are so sexy,” you hear him let out.

“You’re awfully handsy lately, aren’t you Matty?”

“Oh come on,” he says, turning you around to face him, practically pinning you against the fridge, “You know we’re always like this with each other.”

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheeks. “We have a weird...” you start, trying to figure out the right word to describe whatever it was you had with him, “friendship,” you settle on, not exactly liking the word yourself as your tried to hide the cringe you were sure was appearing on your face.

He swallows hard at that word. Even relationship would have been better, even if it were more broad than ‘friendship.’ At least it wasn’t such a narrow word. It felt like even if you didn’t finish the list you didn’t know he knew about, you would never see him as more than a friend. “Well, that’s what makes it my favorite friendship.”

The two of you stand there for a minute, holding each other and gazing into the others eyes. You could feel your breathing slow down studying Matthew’s facial features again, thinking only of how perfect they looked to you in that moment. “We should figure out where we’re getting food from,” you say, dragging your hands down his chest before dropping him all together.

He could have stared at you like that forever. He really couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you, anyone he would want to look at besides you. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, moving over to the counter. Opening your fridge, you remember you still have the list folded in the band of your shorts, throwing it in before grabbing some water out. “What did you just throw in there?” Matthew asked you, having watched your every move.

“Uh, Evelina and I have this weird list that we’re putting together, it didn’t feel right to have Jesus looking over it all of a sudden,” you tell him, “But now that you had mac and cheese on my mind, I kind of want that.”

“Oh, no, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” he says, trying to reach around you to open the fridge.

“No, come on, it’s mostly Evelina’s and I don’t know if she would want you seeing it,” you lie, batting your eyes at him and trying to contort your face to make it look like you would cry if he tried anything else. He couldn’t see the list of things you hate about it. He couldn’t find out about it.

He sighs, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I ordered you mac and cheese but I’ll pay for it if you tell me the subject of the list?” he tries to bargain.

“Uh, it’s a list of kinks,” you lie, not knowing what else to say, and usure why that was the first thing that came to mind.

His eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. It was the list of ten things you hate about him. It had to be. He grins anyway, trying to hide the pain he felt knowing that the list was already started, and probably nearly finished at this point, “Are any of them your kinks?”

“Yeah,” you start to lie to him again, a grin on your face, “One of them says, ‘When Matthew leaves me alone.’”

He scrunches up his face, pretending to be hurt by your comment as he walks back to your living room. “Oh you know just how to break my heart, pretty girl.” You follow him, plopping down next to him on your couch.

You pick up your computer, snuggling into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. “I have no desire to do this project.”

“Why don’t we watch something on TV then and you can work again after we eat?” he suggests. You nod, putting the computer back down, surrendering to his pout. You feel him kiss the top of your head, scrolling through the channels. “What about Lilo and Stitch?” he asks when he finds it on one of the channels.

“Ugh, I love this movie, but the American treatment of Hawaiians is awful, and I just can’t help but think about it every time I watch,” you say, thinking you were being annoying. “Sorry,” you apologize. Evelina was used to your rants, even if you were sure she normally tuned them out. You didn’t think Matthew wanted to listen to another rant from you.

“Don’t get me started?” he asks, referring to the game you and the guys played at the bar.

“Don’t get me started on the American colonization of Hawaii. The Cookes’ went to Hawaii and pretty much obliterated the royal bloodline. The king of Hawaii had the Cookes build boarding schools for the royal children, with good intentions that they would be able to educate his children on royal customs to effectively rule their land. Instead, the Cookes took the Hawaiian customs and told them they were wrong, imparting their own customs on them, instead. They wanted he land for America, they wanted to eliminate the Hawaiian culture and make them as American as possible,” you say. “The Hawaiian people were a very sex positive people, but oh no, American Catholic education and their ‘no sex is the safest sex’ ideal stopped the children from living the lives they grew up expected to live. If a boy was found in a girls room doing anything in these boarding schools, they would beat the children as punishment, and probably other things that weren't even recorded. There are actually a decent number of Wikipedia pages that have had this information erased, like when you go back into the edit history. The sources, as they claimed, weren’t valid, but in reality they weren’t the Cookes’ American-centric description of these schools. They even went so far as introducing sports into the schools as ‘an antidote to the worst evil of all: sexual promiscuity,’” you comment, drawing a laugh from Matthew. “Because we all know how much athletes hate sex, right?”

You look up at Matthew, him beaming down at you as Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride starts ironically playing in the background, “Yeah, we hate that,” he whispers. You swallow hard, trying to ignore any feelings that might be coming up at the sight of Matthew biting his bottom lip.

“American’s always just insert themselves where they don’t belong,” you finish, settling your head back onto his shoulder as he pulls you closer to him.

“Why do you know all of this?” he asks.

You shrug, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know. When I’m doing work I see one word and it sends my mind into this never ending tangent and I end up looking up stuff online and reading for hours.”

“You really are the smartest person I know,” he says with a sigh, “Why hasn’t Ev told her parents about hiding the Catholic stuff until they come?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I never asked, she just told me it was something she needed to do, so I did it with her. That’s her own cross to bear,” you say, taking a minute to realize the really bad pun you just made. “Ah! See what I did there!” you practically yell, Matthew groaning.

“On that note, I think I need to leave,” he jokes, getting up off the couch.

“Oh, come on, no!” you beg, taking him by the hand and trying to drag him back down to the couch. “I don’t want you to leave,” you let out as he pulls you off the couch.

“Really?” he asks you, sitting back down on the couch, your hands still connected.

Standing over him you nod as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him. He pulls you as close to him as you can, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Your mind flashes back to the liquor store, the feeling that came over you as he worked his way along your body like you had a feeling he was about to do again.

“Come on Matthew, you know this isn’t something we do,” you tease, even though you can’t help but look at his lips, the urge to kiss him creeping up on you as you tried desperately to suppress it. If any guy had taken you into his lap like Matthew just did, you would want to do the same thing. You were just desperate for a man, not desperate for Matthew.

“We can’t do anything?” he teases, going for your neck again. You let out a moan, praying that he doesn’t leave any more marks that you’ll have to cover up later.

“Wait,” you say to him, pulling him off of you. He looks slightly upset, not sure what to do next. ‘Ah, fuck it,’ you think to yourself, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side and returning the favor of the hickey he gave you. You suck on his skin, listening to the moans that escaped from his lips this time, feeling him grow hard the longer you were at it. He clenches his hands on your butt, pulling you even closer to him. You work your way up his neck and to his jaw, his grip getting tighter the closer you were to his lips. You had no idea what was coming over you and causing you to want to do this, but nothing in that moment felt better. Nothing in your life had ever felt better as you kissed his face the way he did to you the other day, hearing him moan more and more with every connection you made.

Your lips are millimeters from his, both of you practically begging the other for connection when you’re startled by the sound of Matthew’s phone ringing. You both laugh, foreheads pressed together. One more second and it would have happened. “I think that means our food is here.”

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters, not loud enough for you to hear as you get up to go grab the food. He couldn’t believe you just did that. He checks his neck in his phone camera, seeing it littered with the red marks you had left for him. He reaches up to touch them, smiling for some reason. There’s no way this list would work against him, would it?

You come back, him practically throwing his phone so you don’t see what he’s doing, settling down on the couch with each other eating the food. Your mind starts racing with thoughts about what just happened. There was no way you really wanted that, did you? Well, you wanted a man’s touch, but it didn’t necessarily have to be Matthew. It could be any guy.

‘I have another thing for the list,’ you text Evelina, your eyes moving between your phone screen and his hands holding his food, careful not to look up at his face.

‘Good, god, what?’

‘I hate the way he stares,’ you send her, finally looking up, not taking your eyes off Matthew as the two of you can’t help but stare at each other.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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lovelycheollie · 4 years ago

Text

Back Home

“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home and if we’re really lucky, we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’ what life is-coming home.” –Anita Krizzan

Words: 2512

Hi there! It’s been years, and I’ve been attracted to embrace my Carat side again! I hope everyone’s doing fine, despite of the pandemic we’re experiencing right now. I decided to create a Vernon fic for the reason that I missed my mutuals, especially @chillihansol ((she’s still a Vernon stan how constant I am jelly!)) I hope you guys enjoy this read! My ask is always open for requests

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at the white cyber abyss in front of you. The laptop screen showed nothing but a blank document, a pile of notebooks unevenly stacked to your right. Your chin rested on the top of your palm while you tried your best to think of something that may make you start on your assignment. So much on learning online, you could only rely on yourself and on the urge of just simply finishing and passing whatever needs to be submitted.

It was early in the morning, and supposedly you were to have a hearty breakfast while thinking of ways to somehow cope with the academic stress you were feeling. Even if you were stuck inside your room, you at least knew how to have fun despite being by yourself, may it be simply listening to your favorite song, or cook something easy. While you strolled towards the kitchen, you heard your phone ring and you were being summoned to an online meeting with your classmates. Your to-do checklist was filled again with some assignments meant to be passed on the next day. Staring at the list alone removed the motivation in you to work on your pancakes, and the weather outside could only join you in your tired state.

So there you were, sitting on the office chair and struggling to find the single word that will push you forward to work on your assignment. No word you’ve thought is good enough for the first sentence. Oh how much you’ve hated going through a writer’s block. Deep inside, you just wanted to cram on the homework and sleep your troubles away, but then again, you just really wanted to get rid of everything and just relax without worrying.

As you decided to brew another cup of coffee, someone knocked on your door, which almost caused you to drop your favorite mug onto the floor. You dragged your feet towards the doorway, eyebrows knitted together and eyes ready to glare on whoever was brave enough to bother you early in the morning. But as soon as you saw Vernon flashing a toothy grin, the eyebrows separated, the glare turned into a loving pair of eyes, and your feelings were everywhere. After months of not seeing each other, Vernon was in the flesh, and was already making your morning better.

“’Sup Y/N,” he said, placing his face mask in his bag and removing his white sneakers. You took the time to gawk at his pink sweater and jeans, while still being mentally at awe at his sudden presence. You heard him chuckle a bit as he welcomed himself in the room. “What’s the mug for?”

You rose the mug near to your face, stepping away from the door. “Ah, well, I was brewing coffee. I wasn’t really expecting a visitor, let alone your face.”

“Kind of mean, but I understand.” He lifted the messenger bag and showed you the contents. He had store-bought meat buns, bottled coffee and milk tea, some chips and biscuits stacked inside the bag. Vernon showed another smile which made your heart throb a bit. “I figured you would be stressed today, so I brought the good stuff.”

“How did you even ‘figure out’?”

“You tweeted last night, and you know me. If practice is over then I do the second best thing.”

“Which is?”

“I check your tweets because I’m such a great friend,” he replied to you as he found himself sitting on a bean bag. Vernon placed the goods on the coffee table and stood up again, joining you in the kitchen to get some glasses and plates. He was always like this in your room; he felt like he was at home, especially when he was with you.

Placing the plates on the table, he proceeded to fill the glasses with the coffee and tea, then looked at you and patted the bean bag next to him. You could only roll your eyes while removing the ice tray from the fridge. As you sat beside him, he dug his teeth on the meat buns and let out a satisfactory hum. He found himself at peace, with you alone, and with some convenience store goods. But before you could even copy him, you remembered you had an assignment to start on. The pain of standing up again to grab your laptop was bothersome, and the temptation to relax has strengthened itself.

While chewing on a hearty bite, Vernon took a short glance on the empty online document, then to your struggling fingers, then back to the screen again. He could tell that you were just not having it, the motivation in you to study was missing. Remembering on how he welcomed himself inside, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. “I can see you’re pretty busy. Did I come at the wrong time?”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! You actually came at a good time,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, his sight fixated on your fingertips. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally typed some words on the keyboard. “I just needed a small push to start on this one.”

“How many assignments do you have?”

“I got two, plus this one, so three,” you stopped and looked at him, seeing a bit of sauce on the side of his lips. With your motherly instinct, you wiped the sauce off with your thumb and then wiped it on a tissue paper. Before it could even sink in your thoughts as you continued to type, Vernon was flabbergasted. Yes, he knew you were a bit motherly to your friends, but he wasn’t aware that you had the gull to touch someone else’s face. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he was just trying his best not to let you know how your simple gesture made him feel giddy. The troubles of having a crush on a friend was very much real for this man.

Despite being busy on working as an idol, Vernon would always find time to be with you, as the two of you were close friends. He despised the thought of only being friends with you until the two of you reached adulthood, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t let the two of you stay as friends. But then, even if he finds himself in the perfect situation, the courage to muster up the feelings and confess to you was still a hard mission for him to do. Simply put, he was just crushing on you so badly.

And so, the feelings were put in the lyrics he would sing. They would be seen in the steps he would do onstage. You weren’t that naïve; you can feel that Vernon was signaling something to you. However, you didn’t want to simply assume that this charismatic friend of yours was trying to be more than friends. Hence, you and Vernon are still friends, up to this day.

“Do you want me to help you?” he stammered while trying to act as normal as he can, which you could see, was failing. Seeing him like that, you were starting to feel jittery as well. Your fingers kept pressing backspace from the typing mistakes. The two of you were now facing the same dilemma: how to act properly beside the person you’ve been liking for months.

You cleared your throat and sipped from your glass. Opening the packet of biscuits, you munched on a piece and continued on your homework. “No, I’m okay. I know you’ve been busy, so you should just relax and let me do my own thing.”

“Are you sure Y/N? You know I could help you.”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure. And what you should be doing is resting because I know you’d be pretty busy by tomorrow.”

Then it became silent, with only the rustling of the plastic bags and your fingers typing making the noise. Vernon continued to slip a glance on your work from time to time, and you just did whatever you were doing, despite feeling the heavy weight of his glare. Sometimes, you would catch him looking at you, and he would just give you a goofy grin, and that would be enough for you to punch him lightly on his arms.

As you were reaching the final paragraph of your paper, you felt the urge of chewing something. The last piece of biscuit was across the table, and sadly, you couldn’t rely on your own to reach it. Luckily, beside you was Vernon who had long, slender arms, who busied himself with his mobile games. It was time for you to have him do something.

“Hey Vernon?” you said, eyes glued once again to the monitor.

Vernon paused his game and turned his head to you. “Yeah?”

“Can you pass me the last biscuit? I can’t reach it,” you spoke charmingly, giggling in your head. You were expecting that the biscuit would be placed nearer to you, but your friend wanted revenge to what you did earlier.

Vernon opened the packet and positioned the biscuit in front of your lips. For him, he was doing it simply to lessen your troubles, but to you, it was making you crazy.

“Here you go Y/N,” he spoke, placing the thin, chocolate-flavored biscuit on your lips and licking the rest of the crumbs on his thumb. You were staring with wide eyes as he did so, and when he noticed your surprised look, the thought of his actions hit him on the face. Right now, the two of you were a blushing mess. Panicking for your life, you hurried into finishing the last paragraph of your assignment. There were less mistakes this time as you typed, which felt as an accomplishment to you. You couldn’t dare to look at Vernon with your reddened state, which made you to focus more on your paper.

“Hey Y/N,” he finally spoke as you saved the file. Vernon was simply waiting for your response, sitting beside you while you swallowed your feelings and shut your laptop off. He sat on his knees, eyes staring at you which took you aback. Vernon was serious, and you felt a pang of nervousness to whatever he was thinking. You settled the laptop on the table, and just sat there, thinking of what to say to ease the atmosphere somehow.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why are we so awkward?” he mumbled, and you made a small laughter as soon as you heard him. Your laughter was music to his ears, and it quickly perked him back to his normal self again.

“I don’t know about you, all I wanted was for you to reach the biscuit, not feed it to me, you dork!”

“You did it first! You wiped the sauce from the corner of my lips!”

You could only blush more while making up words for your rebuttal. “It was my motherly instinct! You did not have to take your revenge on me!”

And while you continued on, Vernon was simply looking at you, adoring your flushed cheeks in the morning light. In his head, you were pretty, even if your face was red, even if you were chatty and embarrassed. His heart was full of you, he knew that he likes you that much. A tiny smirk grew on his lips, which turned into a large smile. Surrendering in defeat, you turned to the other side, bit your lips into one straight line and planted the thought of him smiling at you in the center of your mind.

“Why did you have to be so charming?” you whispered to yourself, making sure that you were the only one who could hear it. You were mistaken though, as Vernon heard it, and kept the butterflies in his stomach.

Vernon’s ringtone broke the silence, and with quaking hands, he answered the call. While he was talking with the caller, you took a piece of paper and wrote something simple on it. Quietly, you sneaked the paper inside his bag, and laughed at yourself. You imagine a laughing Vernon in the middle of the street, with the paper in between his fingers.

“Y/N, our manager called. He said he wanted to meet us all in the dorm,” he told you while fixing his bag and checking his belongings inside. He had a gloomy look imprinted on his face, and you were affected by the sudden news as well. Vernon was going to leave so soon, and it will take a while again to see him and bond with him. “He wants to meet us right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re an idol! You’ll be busy at times and it’s okay! I understand!” you showed a sad smile, which made Vernon ache for a hug with you.

“Don’t you worry! After the meeting, I’ll come back immediately! Lunch will be my treat!” Vernon replied with another grin, lifting his arms to pat you on the head. The two of you walked to the door, and you can’t help but become a little bit greedy to him. Deep inside, you wished that he didn’t have to leave, and that you would spend the whole day with him.

After putting the mask on, he stood up, looking at you once more and poking your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll be back soon enough!”

You braved yourself to hug him, which startled him a bit. He then hugged you back, his warmth seeping on his clothes to your skin, and his arms tightly wrapped around you. The moment was short-lived, as you backed away from him and returned the smile he’s been giving you. “You better take care of yourself Vernon!”

He opened the door and stayed outside, still holding on to your warmth. Head turning, you were there behind him, in your favorite loungewear, waiting for him to continue ahead. To him, you were the epitome of a home, and he knows that no matter what would happen, he would always come back to you. In the busiest day, or in the darkest night, he would always think of you. You are his home.

While walking along the street, Vernon checked the contents of his bag. He would often check the insides of his bag when he was already outside, a perk he does to secure that he has everything with him. At the bottom corner of the bag, there was a folded paper. He knew the note was yours, as he remembered that you had a small habit of leaving memos in your friend’s belongings. As he opened the note, he found himself running back to your home, knocking on your door and locking you in his arms, embracing you with all of his heart. Vernon thanked his stars, and this stressful morning, as he realized his worries were answered with your sincerity and with your own feelings as well.

“Vernon, even if you run away, always come back home. I love you.”

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prettyyoungandbored · 4 years ago

Text

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Seven

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: This chapter contains description of a heavy panic attack. Please read at your own risk.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

Author’s Note: A chunk of dialogue in this chapter comes from the movie and has been expanded on to fit the storyline.

“And when exactly is your mother planning to visit us?” Monsignor O’Malley inquired as he followed Demetria.

Demetria snapped a photo of the hallway before looking over her shoulder. “Most likely next month. Once I send her the photos , she’ll work on drafts and whenever she comes, we can all sit down and discuss how to go about the process.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I have her business card with me because she sometimes does work in Gotham City.”

She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed Monsignor O’Malley the thing off white card. “She’ll be happy to answer any of your questions and or concerns.”

He smiled as he took the card. “This is awfully generous of you, Ms. Gallagher. We can’t tell you how grateful we are.”

“It’s the least I can do,” she waved her hand. “Both Bruce and I want to make sure you, the sisters, and the boys are taken care of with whatever you need.” She paused. “How are the boys doing?”

“They’re wonderful.”

“Oh good! I was actually wondering if I could go say ‘hi’ or-.”

“Unfortunately the boys are on a field trip with the sisters.”

Demetria nodded understandingly, trying to hide her disappointment. “Absolutely.” Then an idea hit her. “Do the nuns teach the boys?”

“Some do. We’ve been thinking about incorporating more schooling into the boys schedules, but we’re a little short staffed and not all the nuns feel comfortable teaching certain subjects.”

“I’d love to step in,” Demetria offered.

Monsignor O’Malley raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it you would teach?”

“I’m excellent at English. All levels. I was a TA my senior year of high school. I even minored in it in college.”

Monsignor O’Malley nodded his head, impressed. “Well, if it doesn’t interfere with your schedule-.”

“I don’t have one,” she laughed.

He chuckled. “Then I suppose it’s something we can try out. Are you free next week?”

Her eyes lit up. “Absolutely!’ I would love that!”

Before she could say more, the sound of her phone ringing cut her off. She gave Monsignor O’Malley an apologetic smile as she dug into her bag. “Excuse me one second.”

She glanced down to see it was a reminder that she had to start getting ready for the fundraiser.

“Please excuse me, but I’ve got to head out,” Demetria said. “Remember, if you have any questions, you have my number as well as my mom’s.”

“Of course. I also look forward to discussing you working here.”

“I do as well.”

The two shook hands and Demetria headed out of the orphanage.

She had taken Bruce’s Cadillac XLR, seeing as it was the only semi-low-key-looking car he owned and the only one she didn’t get anxious driving. She wished he had owned something a little less glamorous for trips like this, hating how it made her look, but it was what it was.

As she she opened the driver’s side door, she noticed a photographer snapping her from the distance. The two stared at each for a moment, acknowledging just what was going on. She exhaled softly, mentally reminding herself to keep it together.

Since her essay was published, the media outlets had backed off a bit. The Gotham Times were still insistent of doing a piece on her and published one on her, but it turned out to be a dud as no one close to her would speak to them with the exception of her former News Director and the Head Booker, her other boss. It also helped that a local mob boss was mysteriously killed and the news decided to fixate on that.

She gave him a quick, tired smile before she slid inside and closed the door, driving off.

===================================================

Back at the Wayne Penthouse, Bruce adjusted the cuffs of his pristine white dress shirt as he made his way down the stairs.

Alfred wrapped up his conversation with the party planners and turned his attention to Bruce.

“I think your fundraiser will be a great success,” Alfred remarked.

“Why do you think I want to hold a party for Harvey Dent?” Bruce questioned, almost annoyed at the thought of it.

“I assumed it was your usual reason for socializing beyond myself and the scum of Gotham’s underbelly to try to impress Miss Gallagher.”

“Very droll, very wrong,” Bruce responded, glancing up for a brief moment.

Alfred looked over his shoulder for a moment, noticing the party planners were not in the room. “Have you considered telling Miss Gallagher what it is you’re doing at night?” Alfred inquired in a voice low enough for Bruce to hear him.

Bruce glanced up. It wasn’t the first time this conversation came up between the two. “Soon.”

“Before or after you say ‘I do’?”

“When the time is right.”

“Perhaps she should truly know what she’s getting herself into.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks. “What are you implying, Alfred?”

“Miss Gallagher has given you every ounce of herself.”

“Who says I-.”

Bruce’s attention was caught by the low sound of the television. He looked over to find GCN airing what appeared to be a figure of Batman, hanging with a rope around it’s neck on a building. The lower third read “BATMAN DEAD?”

Demetria walked down the stairs and into the living room, tightening the belt on her cozy white bathrobe when she saw Bruce and Alfred staring at the tv. Curious, her eyes darted to the tv when she saw the lower third.

Her blood ran cold with disbelief and shock, heart dropping into her stomach.

The camera cut back to GCN anchor, Mike Engel.

“Be aware, the image is disturbing,” he warned.

The camera then cut to a man dressed in a cheap Batman getup, his plump cheeks spilling out of the cowl. He was sat on the floor of what looked like the back kitchen area of a butcher shop with a silver cart and a large pieces of animal meat hanging behind the victim. He had his hands tied behind them, his face lowered to the game.

“Tell them your name,” the camera man said in a menacing, sing-song voice.

“Brian Douglas,” the fake Batman answered weakly.

“Are you the real Batman?” There was a childish, teasing tone in the voice behind the camera to a point where it was menacing. It was almost as if whoever it was took immense pleasure in this man’s torture.

“No.” Brian was barely hanging on.

“No?” the voice repeated back, almost in a whine to mimic Brian’s pain.

“No.”

“No?” The voice giggled. An arm reached over and pulled the cowl off Brian. “Then why do you dress up like him?” The camera pulled back, the arm dangling the cowl in front of Brian. The voice laughed a stomach curdling “Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”

“Because he’s a symbol...that we don't have to be afraid of scum like you,” Brian retorted with a slight bit of courage in his weak tone.

“Yeah. You do, Brian.” The hand grabbed the side of Brian’s face, the camera coming in close. “You really do.”

The hand pulled the top of Brian’s head as the man whimpered. The hand turned back and stroked Brian’s cheek. “Oh, shh shh shh.”

Demetria shook her head, her stomach growing weak. Bruce’s eyes fixated on the TV, his expression stone cold with eyes colored in disbelief.

“So,” the voice continued on, “you think the Batman's helped Gotham? Hmm?”

Brian didn’t respond.

“LOOK AT ME!”

The roaring voice caused Demetria to jump back, her hand slapping on her mouth.

The camera swung around to reveal the person behind the voice, the sight causing Demetria to yelp, “Jesus Christ!”

The red smeared smile was complimented by his chalk-white foundation and accentuated the long scars on the sides of his face. Two lazily painted black eyeshadow covered his eyes and he revealed his dark yellow teeth.

“You see, this is how crazy Batman's made Gotham. You want order in Gotham, Batman must take off his mask, and turn himself in.”

It was something behind the clown that Demetria recognized. A memory popped up in her mind, her jaw dropping at the realization.

“Oh, and everyday he doesn’t, people will die. Starting tonight. I’m a man of my word.”

As the camera switched around, the man let out a menacing cackle as Brian screamed in the background. Demetria, overcome with her realization and the man’s grim promise, hurried up the stairs, Bruce and Alfred watching her. Bruce turned off the television and glanced at Alfred who shot him a look. He gave the old man a nod, indicating the message was received.

In their bedroom, Demetria grabbed a notebook from her nightstand as well as a pen. She began writing hurriedly, her cursive handwriting slightly smudged from the pen. Upon finishing, she ripped the page from her notebook and folded it. She reached back into the drawer, grabbing an empty envelope and shoving the folded paper in there. She licked the envelope, sealing tightly with her fingers and placed it back into the drawer.

Just as she went to close the drawer, she heard the door unlock and grabbed her anti-anxiety meds.

Bruce entered the room.

“Everything ok?” he asked, gentle concern laced in his tone.

She waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just that video was, uh, pretty overwhelming to watch. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

He eyed the pilll bottle in her hand. “You know you should probably put that in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

She chuckled. “You’re right. I’m just used to putting them in nightstand drawer. But considering we’re having a bunch of random people over, I guess you’re right.” She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. “Should I leave some viagra in a little bowl for our older guests trying to impress their much younger dates?”

He sat beside her on the bed, smirking at her. “I don’t have any because I don’t need it.”

She hummed, patting his leg. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He pulled her close, his breath hitting her lips. “Not funny.”

“Oh, but it is. It really is.”

She gave him a chaste kiss, nuzzling her nose against his. “You think maybe we should cancel this party? I mean, I don’t think it’s safe.”

“We’re going to be fine,” Bruce reassured.

She sighed, realizing there was no point in changing his mind. “Then I guess I better continue getting ready.”

He chuckled. “Well, don’t get too excited, sweetheart.”

“It’s just...” she stepped back, “I don’t know.” Her fingers toyed the robed belt. “I figured you’d cancel the party and we could spend the night in here...” She continued to move back toward the bathroom area, throwing off the robe to reveal her naked body to him. “And I’d let you do whatever you want to me. But since you won’t cancel it...” She shrugged. “Oh well.”

Bruce could feel his pants grow a little tight and he was ready to have her pay the price. His hungry eyes stayed on her, like a lion ready to pounce on it’s prey. “You get back here. Right. Now.”

She shook her head. “I have to get ready.” She pointed to the tent in his pants. “I suggest you take care of that situation before you leave this room.”

She grabbed the robe from the floor and closed the door behind her, locking it so Bruce wouldn’t try anything.

She exhaled and ran a hand through her damp hair. She wasn’t sure how long this party would last, but she had to make sure Batman got her letter.

==================================================

Bruce waited outside near the helicopter landing pad, his hands in his pockets. He watched as the navy blue sky took over the sunset, but once he turned his head, his breath was taken away by an even more beautiful sight.

Demetria walked out on to the helicopter landing pad, her black hair in an updo with long, curled strands of hair framing her face. Her navy blue gown was strapless with a subtle reverse sweetheart neckline, and hugged her small curves just right before flowing out on to the floor. Her makeup stayed on the subtle side with her eyeliner and mascara accentuating her warm, emerald green eyes and her Goldilocks lips were the perfect shade of pink.

“Is it too much?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. She put a hand on her stomach, feeling the knot inside tightening. Her face fell into a panic. “Oh shit, it is, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, his thumb grazing her cheek as he smiled at her adoringly. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

Color filled her cheeks as her pink lips curved into a bashful smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Wayne.”

His lips gently crashed on to hers as he cradled the side of her face. For a moment, as they relished in their kiss, the world was still and time froze. Neither of them could remember the last time they shared such a moment, but they truly savored it while they still could.

Bruce pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. “For the record, you still owe me from before.”

She hummed against his lips. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

He smirked at her. “You’re lucky I like you. C’mon, let’s go.”

He took her hand in his, leading her onto the helicopter. The pilot helped her up first, Bruce following right after. As the two sat in the back, Demetria turned to him. “What’s the point of doing this again?”

He took her hand once again. “Grand entrances are fun. Plus, wait til’ you see the view from above.”

He felt her latch on to his arm as the sound of the choppers roared in. Soon enough, the helicopter began rising, the weight of the ground lifting. As it took off into Gotham City, Demetria watched the twinkling city below her.

As childish as it seemed, Demetria felt like Jasmine did on that magic carpet with Aladdin. Seeing Gotham from a bird’s eye view, the city looked beautiful and peaceful.

Bruce relished in watching his fiancé’s amazement, hoping he could make her feel this way for the rest of their lives.

She looked over at him. “You were right. This is incredible.”

She scooted closer to him, leaning back on his shoulder as she continued to look out the window. Bruce pressed a kiss to her temple, reaching his hand over to hers on her lap, clasping them.

Both stayed in the moment, wishing they could stay like this forever.

But once the helicopter scoured every inch part of Gotham, it was time to descend back onto the landing pad.

Bruce helped Demetria off the helicopter. Her eyes shifted to the once empty ballroom which was now filled with a large crowd inside staring at her. Her chest grew heavy, palms sweating.

“They’re staring at us,” she told Bruce.

He took her hand. “They see how you beautiful you look”. He gave it squeeze. “Remember, I’ve got you.”

She nodded and exhaled softly as the two made their way inside.

She followed him as the door opened to the gala room. All eyes stayed on them. She flashed a closed mouth smile at partygoers until her eyes met Harvey’s. It wasn’t until his familiar, warm smile that hers became more genuine and honest.

“Sorry we’re late,” Bruce announced. “Glad you started without us!” He let go of Demetria’s hand, clapping his together. “Where's Rachel?!”

Demetria eye’s turned to Rachel, who cringed slightly.

Bruce motioned to her. “Rachel Dawes- my oldest friend. When she told me she was dating Harvey Dent, I had one thing to say... ‘the guy from those god-awful campaign commercials? 'I Believe in Harvey Dent?' Nice slogan, Harvey.”

As the crowd chuckled, Demetria’s smile faltered even more. She was thrown off by the Bruce that was speaking. It was like the second his hand left hers, he’d become another man. He’d become like everyone else in the crowd - pompous and slightly arrogance.

He’s putting on a show for them, she thought to herself. This is not the real him.

“Certainly caught Rachel's attention,” Bruce went on. “But then I started paying attention to Harvey, and all he's been doing as our new D.A., and you know what? I believe in Harvey Dent. On his watch, Gotham can feel a little safer. A little more optimistic. But what he’s done for Gotham isn’t just the only good thing Harvey Dent has done.”

He then shifted his tone and his gaze, now looking at Demetria who’s heart dropped to her stomach.

“Harvey convinced his good friend from college, Demetria Gallagher, to move to Gotham,” Bruce continued, smiling at her. “It’s because of Harvey and Rachel that I was introduced to the love of my life.”

The crowd let out a collective “aw” as Demetria gave him a small smile.

“I spent years thinking I’d never find the ‘one’.” He turned back to the crowd. “I figured if I’m never gonna find her, why not have some fun? And I did.”

The crowd laughed. Demetria rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Then I ran into Rachel having a lunch with this beautiful woman and I couldn’t help myself. I asked her three times to have dinner with me.” Bruce shifted his attention to Demetria, taking her hand in his. “While I will never know who or what convinced you to say ‘yes’, all I know is that from the moment I left that dinner, I knew this witty, kind, beautiful woman was who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Demetria, to say you are my heart and my soul is simply not enough. There will never be enough words or adjectives or uses of symbolism to describe how much you mean to me and how happy you make me. I love you more than anything.”

The crowd, once again, “awed” as he pecked Demetria’s cheek. He then grabbed two glasses of champagne off the server’s tray, handing one to Demetria. He then turned back to the crowd, raising his glass. “To-.”

“I just want to say something really quickly,” Demetria spoke up, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “If that’s, ok?”

Bruce smiled, her sudden burst of confidence bringing him pride. “By all means.”

She turned to the crowd. “You all know Harvey as your DA, but I know him as my confidant, my greatest friend, and above all, my family. He’s also my get out of jail free card, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Everyone laughed as Harvey shook his head. Demetria turned to her best friend, her smile fading a bit.

“Harvey, you’re selflessness and dedication to making Gotham City a safer one for its citizens is not just admirable, but also inspirational. You fight for the voiceless, the scared, and for those who want to make their home a better place. You’re one of the reasons Gotham has a brighter future.”

“So get out your checkbooks and let's make sure that he stays right where all of Gotham wants him,” Bruce toasted. “All except Gotham's criminals, of course. To the face of Gotham's bright future- Harvey Dent.”

Everyone toasted and took a sip of their champagne.

As the crowd went back to their party, Bruce turned to Demetria.

“I’m going to go outside for a bit,” he told her, pecking her cheek. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She opened her mouth to protest but it was too late - he’d wandered off. She sighed, wondering how he could he just leave her to fend for herself at their first gala together. She took a sip of her champagne, giving up and giving in to the situation at hand.

“You’re a very lucky woman,” an elderly woman marveled. “And quite adorable. I bet Martha would’ve loved you.”

“Thank you, that’s so kind,” Demetria remarked. “Were you a friend of hers?”

“We were both on the chair for many charities. Such a wonderful woman. If you’re interested, I would love to bring you aboard some of them and get you acquainted.”

“I would love that! I’m actually working with the boy’s home and helping them with renovations and whatnot.”

“How wonderful!”

“I’ve also expressed interest in helping them with schooling and whatnot.”

The gleam in the woman’s eyes softened. “Oh...really, now?”

“Yeah, I would love to do some teaching.”

“She’s going to do a fantastic job,” Harvey remarked, chiming in. He threw his hand around Demetria’s shoulders. “Those kids are going to be well looked after thanks to her.”

“I don’t doubt that,” the woman agreed before walking off.

Demetria turned to Harvey. “I think she realized I wasn’t one of them.”

“Who cares?” he shrugged. “But forgetting that, you’re seriously going to become a teacher?”

“I brought it up to Monsignor O’Malley about the possibility of teaching English. Besides, it would give me something to do that I actually like. You know, talking to them about novels and what it means to express yourself in your writing.”

“That’s fantastic!” Harvey remarked. “You would be perfect for that.”

“I hope so. How are you handling this...whatever it is?”

He sighed. “I’m...just here. How about you?”

“I wanna go into my bedroom and go under the covers and wait til’ everyone leaves.”

“Well for what it’s worth, you look beautiful tonight.”

“I’m working with what I’ve got.”

“Bruce is very lucky.”

“Yeah, he should be. But he decided to give up on the party.”

Harvey furrowed his eyebrows as Demetria motioned her head to the outside. He then turned his head, the two watching Bruce and Rachel engage in what appeared to be an intense conversation.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Demetria wondered aloud.

He quickly glanced over and took a look sip of his champagne. “Probably nothing.”

Her lips curved into a smirk as she eyed Harvey. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re getting defensive.”

“And you’re annoying me.”

“After that heartfelt speech I gave, that’s the thanks I get?”

“It was alright.”

She punched him in the shoulder, causing him to cringe. “Asshole. I gave a beautiful speech.”

He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, hopefully it will be just a nice ad one you’ll give at my wedding.”

Her eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up. You proposed to Rachel?”

“Not yet. I’m planning to.”

Her mouth hung open as she leaned in close. “Holy shit, dude! When?!”

“Well first there are some things I gotta-.”

“So you two are friends, yes?” another female guest inquired, cutting him off. Her arm was linked with a man who looked at least 20 years older than she did.

Harvey and Demetria turned to her. “We most certainly are,” Demetria agreed, pinching his cheek.

“So how long ago did you two date?” one man remarked, chuckling.

Harvey and Demetria’s eyes went wide.

“We never have,” Harvey answered.

The man elbowed Harvey, laughing. “Aw, c’mon son. It’s alright.”

“He’s basically my brother,” Demetria said.

The man shook his head as he and his concerned date turned away. Demetria and Harvey turned to each other.

“Oh my god these people suck,” she giggled to Harvey. “At least they’ll fund you.”

“Yeah, I could give a shit,” he retorted.

“Mind if I steal him for a bit?” Rachel asked, chiming in.

“By all means,” Demetria motioned.

Harvey and Rachel went off when Demetria noticed Bruce still standing outside. She made her way out.

“Doing ok there?”

Bruce turned to her, smiling. “So far, so good.”

“I love you but you’re not the best liar,” she chuckled, her fingers gently combing his hair. “Babe, if you want to leave, say the word and we’ll sneak out. We can go anywhere.”

“Tempting,” he remarked, smirking. “Where do you propose we go?”

She cocked her head back, shoulders shrugging. “Anywhere. We could literally get in a car and go anywhere we want.” She paused. “Anywhere you want.”

Bruce’s body turned to face her, giving her his full undivided attention. She set her glass down on the railing.

“While I think it’s sweet that you threw this for Harvey, I don’t want to be alone in a room with people I don’t know let alone give a shit about. I would rather be with you in the middle of nowhere where we don’t have to pretend we’re people that we’re not.”

His smile faltered, his eyes going to the ground. Demeteria shoulders tightened, fear creeping into her now uneasy stomach.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “What did I do?”

He shook his head. “No, you did nothing wrong. It’s...” He sighed. “I never want to keep anything from you.”

“What have you been keeping from me?” she questioned, her voice low

He scanned the area as well as the inside of the ballroom. Realizing he wasn’t the safest, let alone most secure place, he leaned closer toward her. “I’ll go in the bedroom and grab a couple things. Go tell Alfred we’re heading out. We’ll meet at the elevator, alright?”

“Bruce-.”

He kissed her cheek and made his way inside. Bruce pushed through the crowd, fielding attempts of conversation from partygoers. She threw her hands up in defeat as an annoyed exhale left her mouth.

“At least we’re leaving,” she muttered under her breath.

========================================================

In their bedroom, Bruce grabbed a set of keys for one of the cars from his safe in their closet. Realizing it was probably best to bring her anxiety med, he went into the medicine cabinet only to find it wasn’t there.

He then remembered her saying she always kept it in the drawer in her nightside table.

Figuring she put it back, he went over to it and opened the drawer and there it was. When he pulled it out, he noticed an envelope underneath with ‘For Batman’ written on it.

He quickly glanced back at the door to make sure the door was closed. He then set down the bag and opened the envelope to find a handwritten letter.

My Night Friend ,

There’s something you need to know about that viral video of the copycat.

I recognize the kitchen in the video. It’s the Fatted Calf on East 28th. A guy I briefly saw in college worked there and I hung out with him in the kitchen while he was closing up the shop.

What people don’t know is that there’s a secret room. The guy told me the owner had it made to be used as a bomb shelter back in the day. It’s located right beside the freezer. If you can get into the boss’ office, there’s a special key inside a safe that can open the door. The Joker may be taking shelter in there.

Take what you will with this information. I hope it serves you well.

Sincerely,

Your Rooftop Friend

Bruce’s couldn’t believe what he was reading. His fiancé, the love of his life, was helping the Batman. The severity of the situation as well as time the huge piece of information made him realize he needed to get both of them out of the penthouse and into the Batcave. He could explain everything to her there.

Shoving the letter into the bag, he zipped it up and made his way to the door when something on the security camera screen made him stop.

It was The Joker followed by some henchmen.

He threw the bag in the closet hurriedly, closing the door, and made his way to the party. Seeing Harvey Dent close by talking to Rachel, he figured he’d had enough time to get Harvey to safety and then grab Demetria.

He came up behind Harvey, putting Harvey in a headlock as Rachel’s eyes widened in fear.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaimed.

“They’re coming for him,” Bruce said, using his Batman voice. “Go grab her and get yourselves to safety.”

========================================================

Demetria spotted Alfred near the wall area. She made her way over, catching the old man’s attention.

“There you Miss Gallagher,” he greeted. “Are you having fun?”

“I feel like a zoo animal. I’ve had more people stare at me than actually talk to me. Anyway, Bruce and I are heading out.”

Alfred chuckled. “You and Master Wayne are a truly perfect fit.”

She eyed the room before leaning closer toward Alfred. “Alfred, he said he had something he’d been meaning to tell me. Any idea what it could be?”

Just then, the sound of a single gunshot silence the room. Everyone turned, including Demetria and Alfred, to see The Joker, the man from the video, enter the ballroom with his posse of men behind him wearing clown masks.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” he greeted in a sing-song voice.

His posse pointed guns at the crowd, a silent order to step back. The crowd formed a circle around The Joker.

Alfred, who was a few rows behind the crowd, stood in front of Demetria.

“Stay behind me,” he whispered to her.

She watched from behind his shoulder.

The sound of tray hitting the ground, broke the silence. The Joker looked back for a moment before turning back to the crowd.

“We are...tonight’s entertainment.” He grabbed a piece of shrimp from a table, stuffing it into his mouth. He looked around. “Only one question - where is Harvey Dent?”

He eyed around, pointing the gun at a group of women before ripping one of their glasses of champagne from their hands and taking a swig of it. He set back on the table and began questioning those he passed, occasionally grabbing at them.

“You know where Harvey is? Do you know who he is?”

He squeezed one guy’s cheek. “Do you know where Harvey is? I need to talk to him about something. Something little.”

He went up to an old white man. “You know I’ll settle for his loved ones.”

Meanwhile, Demetria felt someone grab her hand. She turned to find Rachel.

“We need to get you out of here,” Rachel whispered.

Demetria went to follow Rachel when she felt someone grab her hand.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, sweetcheeks?” one of the masked men retorted.

He grabbed Demetria, despite her attempts to break free. Her heart rate quickened, stomach growing weak as the man pushed her in front of the crowd.

“Hey boss!” He called out. “It’s her!”

The Joker turned to her, his fixation on her making her blood run cold. She stood frozen and helpless. He got into her face. “So this is the future Mrs. Wayne. You’re also Harvey Dent’s best friend.”

He grabbed Demetria’s face, cradling it forcefully.

“Harvey is your best friend, isn’t he? Your buddy ol pal?” He let out a vicious cackle. “Possibly an old lover? An unrequited love? Either way, you’re somewhat of an asset to him.”

She moved her eyes, looking around as the crowd watched her in fear.

“C'mere, look at me.”

She whimpered, closing her eyes.

He tightened his grip on her hair “LOOK AT ME!”

She yelped, opening her eyes as tears filled to the brim.

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh shh, shh, shh,” he hushed her teasingly. “Well you look upset.” He asked, pointing to scars on his mouth with his knife. “Is it these? Is it the scars? You wanna know how I got ‘em?”

She didn’t have time to answer, at least he didn’t bother to give her a chance to. She went to move her head when he grabbed her again. “Hey, look at me.”

She stopped moving, her eyes on him. “So, I had a wife, who was beautiful...like you, who tells me I worry too much, who tells me I oughta smile more, who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks.”

She squirmed when The Joker pulled her back. “One day they carve her face. And we got no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. Hmm? I just wanted to let her know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this to myself. ”

She squeaked, frightened as he put the knife to his scars.

“And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves! Now I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling!”

He pulled her back, took the knife, and slashed her forearm, the sharp stinging, sensation causing her to let out a blood curdling scream. She collapsed onto the ground, blood spilling down her arm and onto the marble floor.

Demetria couldn’t move, her body frozen, mind unable to process what had just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, her chest stinging in pain and her head growing lightheaded as the Joker stepped on her bleeding arm.

“Please help me,” she begged in between her hyperventilating. “Please...I’m...I can’t...help!”

“Why doesn’t Harvey Dent come save his best friend?!” The Joker called out.

“Let her go!”

Rachel made her way. The Joker stomped on Demetria’s arm one last time.

Alfred rushed to her side. “Deep breaths, Miss,” he whispered. “Deep breaths.”

“Alfred...I’m gonna....don’t let me...”

“You’re going to be alright.”

“Step back!” one of the masked henchman ordered, pointing a gun at Alfred.

Alfred held up his hands stepping back from Demetria. The henchman walked away as Demetria continued to hyperventilate.

She was going to die in front of everyone. Her vision became blurry, her breath uncontrollable. She watched in what she thought would be her final moments Batman attack The Joker.

In and out of blackness, she heard glass shatter followed by footsteps.

Tears strolled down her face as she struggled to breathe, trying to hold on to whatever breath she had left, her body shivering. Alfred rushed to her once again.

“Don’t just stand there!” he cried out. “Someone call a bloody ambulance!”

He gave Demetria his hand, which she held onto tightly.

“Stay with me,” he told her. “Stay with me.”

But she wasn’t sure how long she could last. Between the chest pains and the pains from her wound and the light-headedness, she was barely holding on.

How badly she wanted to see Bruce....and how could he leave her like this?

__________________________________________________________________

Dress:

Hair/Makeup:

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #the joker #christian bale #christian bale x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bale!batman

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pa-panda-heroes · 4 years ago

Note

im the same anon who sent the pro-hero + league thing and dabi, shiggy, toga 🥺💞💖💖 thank you, lovely.

Enjoy, anoni!! I’m realising my scenarios are aren’t really scenarios, are they?

Strict!Pro-hero!reader being seduced by Dabi, Tomura, and Himiko!

Warning: N/S/FW content. Minors, do NOT interact. Seriously! This is no place for you. (Edit: that means a anyone under 18. That’s the threshold I’ve seen others use, so I’m sticking it’s that.) Note: there are individual warnings for each character so that you know what you’re about to read ^v^b

Dabi:

Warnings- adult content, thigh riding, biting, edging, alcohol mention, swearing

To say that you were known for being cool-headed and strict was a major understatement. You weren’t as popular as All Might, but those who knew you understood you to be a hero who, no matter how any villain taunted or insulted you, was concrete and unbending to their childish games. You went by the book and rarely made exceptions.

And then Dabi entered the picture. Cynical, rough, sardonic as hell, and quite the lawbreaker - and flirt. He’d stir some trouble in the streets, and then dip out when things got sketchy for him. In the midst of doing so, he’d always send some nasty smirk and comment your way. “Some nice legs you got there, doll. They’d look nicer above your head, though,” was his favorite; or perhaps it was your response he vied for so much. Because boy, you wanted to respond. You couldn’t deny the selfish gratification that came of his antics, knowing someone didn’t treat you as a gripey, square of a woman.

But that was the last thought on your mind as you sauntered through an alleyway on your walk home from having harmless fun with your fellow heroes. You hadn’t drank a sip, afraid of trouble spurring and hence your being called in. Your focus was fixated on your phone in your hand as you read the text one of your coworkers sent you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, babe,” you suddenly hear, and instantly recognize the bastard of a voice. And instantly you feel that familiar throbbing at your core at the sound of it.

You look up from your phone, stone-faced as always, and try to resist the urge to scowl at him. You fail, though. He’s standing not far from you with his hands in his pockets, but it doesn’t look like this encounter was intended. “Don’t call me that,” you warn shakily, only for his smirk to widen and show off his teeth before he closes the gap between you. You elect to swing a fist at him but miss entirely before a blur flashes over your vision and your back hits the hard brick of the alley.

“Why not? We both know you enjoy it,” he snickers, his forearm across the front of your shoulders, his left hand occupied with pinning your wrist to the wall and knee stuck in-between yours. “If you really meant that punch, I wouldn’t have been able to dodge it, right?”

Right.

He even left your other hand free to prove his point.

Your breath is heavy and fluttered as he leans closer. You said nothing, but the fact that your wrist was relaxed in his hold told him everything. You see him smirk again, thereafter his arm leaves your chest so that he could put his thumb under your chin, the rest of his fingers splayed out on your jaw and you gulp. Your eyes fall half-lidded when he leans in close, but he quickly pushes your head back and veers off to the side to suckle at your neck, earning a quiet whine from you. Dabi acknowledges it with an eerie chuckle, to which you nearly respond with suspect before a cry leaves your lips at the sensation of teeth gnashing at your collarbone, the feeling of his chin staples rolling over your skin surprisingly heavenly. He resorts back to suckling and you’re sure he’s leaving at least a few hickies, but you’re too wrapped up in his hands fondling your hips and ass to care. They’re so warm, it’s ecstatic. He’s sweltering hot, unlike the cool wetness settling between your legs.

“Aah, Dabi...!”

You can’t help the whine of your lips or buck of your hips, nor the yelp that results when you unintentionally grind your throbbing core against his thigh. Dabi pulls off of your neck with a pop before he grabs your hips with both hands to pull you closer, encouraging you to ride his thigh. “My leg, ah?” he breathes, his voice more curious than either of you would admit. He leans in towards your ear, hot breath sending a chill down your spine. “Go on, do it,” he demands, his voice a whisper. “Lift that skirt and cum on my thigh, doll.”

You shut your eyes tight and moan at such a filthy command, his husky voice a contributor. Dabi’s too impatient with you to let you move your skirt out of the way as he does it himself, his returned grip on your hips surely to bruise them. You’re able to look down as he guides you, and there’s a clear streak of wetness soaking his pant leg. You shiver at the sight of your arousal, and again when he reaches to move your panties out of the way to let you grind bare against his jeans. You stare at the sight, not having it in you to look away. He must’ve followed your graze, his chest rumbling with a chuckle as you begin to cry out and moan louder. Dabi’s tongue is awfully quick to find and lick at your ear, while his teeth occasionally gnaw at it and pull. You were so pent up, even after a night of fun, it was no surprise your climax was already catching up to you. Your pace gets faster and faster, until that tightened coil-

Doesn’t snap. Dabi retreated his thigh from you and grabs your jaw to force you to look at his simper, earning a pout from you. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t make that face,” he taunts.

“You didn’t really think that’d be it, did you, babe?”

Tomura:

Warnings- adult content, spanking, swearing, orgasm denial

Being an infamously stoic hero had its perks. No one expected you to goof off on talk shows or crack a corny joke in interviews. Everyone liked that you weren’t careless and rambunctious; it just suited you not to be. A downside was being viewed as a “strict, rule-hungry old bag,” though. And you weren’t even old! But because you took being a hero seriously and followed rules, it gave you a public opinion not far off from Endeavor’s.

Getting on the trail of the leader of the League of Villains was a royal pain in the ass, much less staying there. It didn’t help that he seemed to take a special interest in you. There was always a hungry look in his eyes when you faced off, and nearly every time it felt like he’d planned the encounter as if to merely get a glimpse of you.

It wasn’t something you hated. This game of cat and mouse was exhilarating. Constant. Safe. It was a release. The more it happened, the more you thought it was the same way for him.

That theory was confirmed in its entirety when he randomly showed up in your apartment and looked at you as if he’d waited a significant amount of time. On you. You freeze in place after shutting your door, your bag of groceries still in hand as he stares at you from the couch. The silence that falls is thick, and not entirely uncomfortable, but it is unwelcome. You walk over to the kitchen area and set the bag atop the counter, before turning around to see Tomura standing right in front of you, the lack of hands adorning his body confusing you. “Why... are you here?” you ask hesitantly, noting the unconscious clenching of your thighs.

“You wouldn’t make a damn move, so I had to.”

His answer was simple and dry, and you begin to wonder if that meant anything other than what you wanted it to. His intentions are clear when he approaches further, backing you into the counter and caging you with an arm on each side. Tomura just stares at you. It was your turn. That’s how your little game went. And so you jolted forward, latching onto his lips with your own. Your dominance is short-lived, though, as he deepens the kiss when you yelp from his hand smacking against the side of your thigh, his tongue invading your mouth. Tomura’s hands are quick to snake up your shirt and paw at your uncovered breasts, the villain then smirking at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra while he chuckles at your moan. His fingers pinch your hardening nubs, resulting in your pulling back from his lips and mewling.

His breaths are getting heavy, as are yours. Tomura grabs your arm and spins you around so that your backside is facing him, your ass end poking out at him when he grabs your head and pushes down to bend you over the counter. You glance back at him, but your focus is broken when you feel his hardened cock against your ass. Your whine only encourages him to briskly unbuckle your pants and pull them down, and you half-expect him to grind against you again - but he doesn’t. You begin to push back against him, albeit a hand on the small of your back lunges you forward and you scramble to get a grip on the counter beneath you. Hard to do that on a flat, smooth surface.

“Funny, you’re such a stickler about rules, and yet here you are, trying to make your own,” he jeers, and you swallow thickly. “You can follow a command, can’t you, hero?”

You gulp again and try to writhe in place, only to shriek when a hand lands sharp on your ass cheek as his other hand digs into your back. “Can’t you?” he repeats, and the feeling of your cunt clenching practically resounds throughout your body. You’re soaked, it’s clear. You pant instead of responding, almost sounding like a bitch in heat before another slap sounds against your reddening asscheek and you moan aloud, earning yourself yet another.

“I can!” you nearly scream, white-hot tears prickling the corners of your eyes - either from the pleasure, or the pain, you’re not sure.

“Don’t cum.”

You gasp and glance back at him, lips agape as you felt the pulling down of your panties. All you can see is those dark, red eyes glaring at you like a predator about to devour its prey.

Himiko:

Warnings- adult content, mentions of stalking, biting, oral, slight knife use (your poor panties), swearing, home... invasion?

Note- I’m not sure how old Toga is. Granted that she wears a school uniform and she crushes on Izuku, I’m setting her age to 20 here because I’m really not sure.

Being stalked by villains is not something you’re unfamiliar with. Being called a stone-faced, soulless shell of of a woman is not something you’re unfamiliar with either, a result of the public eye constantly fixated on you. On the contradictory, a grown ass villain flirting with your austere being was something you were quite unused to. Toga Himiko of the League of Villains was always hot on your trail, quick to retreat when noticed yet quick to notice you first. The smile that would crack her lips open was clearly meant for you and for you alone, always used as a flirtatious taunt. It wasn’t uncommon for you to track her down and chase after her, nor was it uncommon for her to track you down and leap after you.

Your game of push-and-pull had been on for a while. She was always so quick to escape no matter the situation, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out how she did it. Nor could you figure out how the hell she got into your apartment. While you were there. Granted, you were asleep, but still...

She grins at you again in your bedroom doorway, that grin you know well, and seems to fiddle with the belt loop at her shorts, having long since abandoned the school girl schtick. It only worked for so long anyway. “Y/n-chan,” she beams, nearly drooling. “I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you tonight?” Her voice is sweet and lilted, and for a split second you believe her. She still had that sweet and harmless-looking appearance despite being a hardened villain. You lick your lips almost unconsciously, which she takes as an invitation to your bed, except she yanks your bedding off of you unceremoniously to replace it with her body as she straddles your hips.

You stare at her, your hands instinctively going for the sides of her thighs, with which she seems quite pleased as she squeaks at you. “You look so small down there, hero,” she mutters, her grin ear-to-ear. “So cuuute!” Her eyes then narrow almost darkly at you and she cocks her head sideways. “So quiet. Are you still sleepy, hm?”

Her thighs are so plump and sweet that you gulp underneath her while wondering what she’d taste like, but she shakes her head at you. “No, not tonight, lovey.” Himiko leans down and lunges her tongue into your open mouth, your moans mixing together as she does so, albeit yours increases in volume when she palms your breast through your shirt and squeezes before flicking her finger at your hardening nipple. The villain pulls away from you too quickly, sitting up so briskly your head almost spins, as she ignores the trail of saliva that follows. Her hips are adjusted atop you before she grabs the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth. You catch on immediately and comply, biting the fabric into place as she goes to town kissing and licking your sternum between your tits. Golden, sharp eyes never leave yours in the moment, and her mouth feels hot against your skin as you moan. Her groping at your legs only serves to make you more vocal.

The bloodthirsty woman travels down your navel, yet goes right past where you want her most, while your whine is punctuated by the bucking of your hips. Himiko instead elects to suckle at your hip and upper thigh, before she parts your legs and settles between them. You jolt a little as she licks a stripe up your thigh until her tongue is a finger’s width away from the throbbing wetness between your legs. She giggles at your response, then landing a quick, tiny bite on your thigh before licking her lips. You don’t realise you’ve reached out to grab the top of her head and pulled it toward you until you feel the softness of her hair underneath your fingertips and another giggle escapes her. Himiko’s tongue pokes out from her lips as she pulls a knife from her belt to shred away at the hip of your panties before pulling them down to give her access to your throbbing clit.

Her tongue is quick to prod at your hole, then dragging up towards your clit before her lips are around it and sucking away. You cry out as a result, hips bucking again as your free hand clutches the bedsheet beneath you. You hear what sounds like a growl come from Himiko’s throat, then watch as her arms hook around your legs and hold your hips down. The sweat starting to coat your skin keeps her from getting a decent grip, so she uses force while her tongue dips into you and pokes around with her thumb rubbing at your swollen, puffy clit.

“Toga-chan-!”

Your whining out her name encourages her thumb to rub circles and increase its pace, Himiko finally letting out her own moan into your soaked cunt as her tongue begins to lick and suck away. Your grip on the sheets tightens until your knuckles are white, your mantra of moans music to her ears. Until suddenly, she pulls away, your essence coating her lips and practically dripping down her chin.

“Y/n-chan,” she says almost darkly, with the look in her eyes making your cunt clench around nothing, “you can’t cum yet.”

#mha #mha x reader #mha smut #mha scenarios #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #toga x reader #dabi #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #these are long whoops #sorry about the short minute where there was no cut #i had to edit on mobile and it ate it

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