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kabuki-writes · 2 months ago

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An Entertainment For The Gods

chapter: 2 chapter 1 | 3 | 4

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: Through an invitation from the Emperors themselves General Acacius and his daughter attend one of the bloody Gladiator fights at the Colosseum. But this time it is not only the brutality of the arena that encaptures Geta and Caralla.

Note: -

word count: 2.5k

There was no bigger temple in Rome than the Colosseum. A monument to the Roman Empire, an architectural masterpiece as well as a slaughterhouse for humans and animals. They had to die for the amusement of the masses in the pale white sand and under the eyes of the Roman citizens as well as the Emperor's. You've never visited the arena before, it just wasn't the entertainment you usually seeked as you fancied the amphitheater and stage plays of comedies or tragedies. No one really died from a well-spoken dialogue and the stages weren't drown in blood afterwords. Your father was a similar soul with this. As someone who had seen war and death countless of times, Acacius developed a distaste for the useless killing, which he argued was the mere core of the collosseum's existence.

But while one would despise this form of humanity at its core brutality, other's simply loved it. First under Commodus the fights in the arena became more frequent, while Septimius Severus after him didn't change anything in that matter. Under Geta and Caracalla however Gladiator fights reached an all time high, especially those 'special' spectacles with exotic animals or ships. They themselves had an own Gladiator school under their wings, which was due to their wealth filled with the most skillful warriors and the best equipment, that it was almost unfair.

Given the fact that both twins enjoyed the performance in the arena and the bloody outcome, it wasn't surprising that they were frequent visitors. For the Emperor the colosseum had an own arena box with the best view over the inner pit and with two throne like chairs for each one of them to sit comfortably. It wasn't unusual for them to have guests here either and this time it was a special one. The moment Geta and Caracalla stepped out, the masses greeted and cheered for their Emperors, who - at least in Rome - offered them bread and games to forget the common sorrows of life. Both of them were dressed in the finest, colorful fabrics, while their golden laurel crowns throned on their heads. They waited for General Acacius at the balustrade to come forward, join them and speak to the people. He was still their celebrated hero, their triumph card, so to speak. It was an easy way to win the hearts of the people through a figure like Acacius, who was the ideal Roman.

After your father held a small, yet powerful speech about the braveness of the Gladiators they'll see today, a slave went forward to place a cushioned chair between the thrones of the Emperors. You hesitated a second, since usually you would be seated at the side of your father. "Since we've heard that you had never witnessed a fight in the arena befoe, we thought you might like a good view", Geta suddenly explained to you, before he sank into his own chair. "Please, sit down."

Your eyes went to your father for a quick exchange and you saw in them how he displeased this way of treatment, yet he nodded and you sat down. More and more you understood that the situation had a differnt tone in it. It wasn't mere courtesy why the Emperors treated you like that and given the way you'd read their eyes, it was more than clear that you've captured their interest. Usually any woman of the realm would fight for that privilege, but you had seen how your father acted in front of them, how worried he was when you first made your way to the palace - something was off. You knew you needed to pay attention and be cautious.

"Citizens of Rome, the arena welcomes you! Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla, we the people bow to your greatness and the mighty of our beloved Empire! Under the eyes of the sun the colosseum presents to you a spectacle like no other!", the high-toned, yet thunderous voice of the richly decorated announcer set the beginning of the show and drew all eyes on the white sand down in the arena pit, where a group of men in armor but with a limited equipment of weapons entered through a door from the Colosseum's catacombs. "First we present to you the brave Gladiators that will be our Theseus' today! They may not need to save their Ariadne, but they'll still have to face horde of Minotaurs today in an attempt to safe their own lives!" With those words a couple of other doors opened and six wild bulls entered the arena. Their massive and strong bodies stirred up the sands with every step of their big hooves. They may've been animals, but they had terrible weapons on their head with sharp horns that grew out of their heads.

Caracalla clapped with a joyful laugh. "Oh i love mythological pieces, even though they forgot the labyrinth!"

Your fingers nestled with the fabric of your dress in nervousness as you watched the men prepare themselves for the attack of the angry bulls, which were already pawing with their hooves. More than one set off to ran towards the Gladiators and given the fast but powerful movements of those animals, it didn't take long until the first fighter got overrun by them and another one faced the horns that drilled themselves like spikes into his torso, where blood spilled like a waterfall. The other fighters tried their best to ran or face the bulls with the few weapons they'd been given. One of them even striked down a beast by pressing his sword into its neck, when it was running towards him. You watched the spectacle with a neutral, yet pale face, while the Emperors seemingly enjoyed the show. Geta quickly noticed the way you followed the happenings down in the arena and leaned towards you.

"Are you not entertained, y/n ?", he asked you in a low voice, still loud enough to overcome the cheerings of the crowd. Your eyes went to him, facing the deep blue of his own, while you tried to put on a mask of apathy. "It is hard for me to understand, why useless killing is viewed as entertainment, I'm afraid," you answered, but it just got you an amused smirk in return.

"Oh it is not useless. You see, nothing is as entertaining as humanity itself. What lies more in our human nature than violence, power and the survival of the strongest? Without that, your father wouldn't be able to win all his great victories and our father would not have been able to secure the Roman Empire after the weak reign of the senate."

"And yet Emperor Marcus Aurelius believed that true strength isn't born in violence, but in mindfulness and kindness. The ability to speak, think and therefore to thrive for something higher than mere survival, is what distinguishes us from animals," you responded in a clear, settled tone. This sudden response surprised Geta clearly as his eyes widened and his fingers tensed up. Even Caracalla's eyes had left the arena for a moment and were locked at you. Even though he followed the fight down there, one of his ears had catched every word you'd said. What a sweet, naive woman you were... it made this whole moment even more interesting.

The corners of Geta's mouth twitched and at first you weren't able to tell if he found your words disrespectful or not. In fact, he'd not expected such a bold answer from a woman, especially not against an Emperor. And even though he wouldn't agree with you, it proved him right, that you were not a simple-minded girl. Naive maybe, but not dull.

"Interesting thought, my dear. But would you recite the words to one of these brave warriors down there too? Who will ll earn their freedom, if violence keeps them alive long enough? We offer them a precious gift, and in return they entertain us."

Your eyes went to the pit again, which was mottled in deep red blood now with only one man and one bull remaining. The moment was intense as both animal and human watched each other with intensity, before the bull stormed forward and the speer of the Gladiator, who waited for the perfect moment, hit his opponent. The massive body fell to the ground and the people cheered in Ecstasy. Geta and Caracalla clapped with admiration for the celebrated Gladiator, as he sunk to his knee and bowed to them.

The next round began after the exhausted and wounded 'hero' stumbled through one of the doors, back into the darkness of the catacombs, before he was replaced by a bigger group of Gladiators, who now had to face armed chariots. Their opponents wore the armory of old Sparta while they teared down one after one with their arrows. You leaned back in silence, watched by Caracalla, whose eyes were taking in her side profile for quite a while now. Even though he loved the fights down there, the blood, the violence... you encaptured him more right now. Your stern face, which carried a deep displeasure for this, while you tried so hard to hide it, it was captivating.

Everyone, even his own twin tend to underestimate Caracalla. Even though he was born a couple of minutes earlier than Geta and was therefore technically older than him, his stature was smaller and he wasn't as tall as his brother. This was accompanied by the fact that he enjoyed the pleasantries the god Bacchus had to offer him: wine, music, arts and sex - even more than Geta did. Together with his rather impulsive way of acting, it often led to the false thought that the more capable brother of them was Geta. Oh, Caracalla hated this, it was a misinterpretation weaved like a thread through his whole life. Because he had a gift, he could read people and together with his extensive web of information sources and spies within the city of Rome and beyond, he had a power that lied in the dark. And it was a preparation he did on purpose after he'd learned about the plot that was once set against Emperor Commodus. Some would've said it was paranoia, maybe it was, but he would call it 'preparation'. Nonetheless it came with the pleasant side effect of knowing a lot about the people around him.

"I've heard that you rather choose the theater over the arena", he said with a soft, yet unreadable smile on his lips. "You're a dreamer, aren't you?"

As you heard his voice next to you, your eyes quickly turned to him. "There is nothing wrong with dreaming, my Emperor...", you answered and he nodded quickly as if he'd hoped for that answer. Caracalla even grinned, his golden tooth gleaming in the light. "No, not at all." My Emperor. The way you've said it with your eyes looking at him. It electrified him, so much so that the cheers of the crowd almost faded in the background. You'd faced the pit and the fighters again, but he was still staring at you.

"Which play?"

"Octavia," the name almost shot from you mouth.

"And you consider yourself to be?"

"Octavia. And you?" You didn't even expected him to give you an answer on that, but meanwhile Caracalla's grin grew wider.

"Nero," he said just as fast as you'd answered before.

Your eyes instantly went back to the Emperor, whose eyes were now focused on the deadly fight between a Gladiator and a chariot rider. He couldn't hold back a chuckle, while he watched how the man pushed his sword through the neck of his opponent, ripping off his head.

Nero.

"Why?", you suddenly asked, this time it were your eyes, that watched him.

"I cannot blame him for setting himself free." His answer was almost like a whisper, yet you heard every word. It was a very unconventional way of interpreting the mad Emperor, one she herself would even despise, if he wouldn't seem to be so certain of it. It meant something more.

The arena fight slowly came to an end, when only to oppontents were fighting for the right to claim the victory. Nearly all of the Gladiators and chariot riders were dead, their bodys laying in the pale sand and drowining it with their blood, a weird composition of death that accompanied your questions about Caracalla's answer.

After a final hit, one of the men went down on his knees. He was wounded, severely, and he now felt the tip of a sword against his neck. He surrendered and the gods had to decide what will happen with him. One of the Gods was Geta, who stood up from his chair and approached the balustrade, while the crowd called for a decision. The Gods need to decide, yet Geta suddenly turned his head to you. "What do we say,...? y/n, should he live or die?"

Your face grew even paler than it already was, your fingers were almost digging themselves into the armrests of your chair. You felt a thousand eyes on you, even though it was only Geta and Caracalla watching you, as well as the eyes of your father from behind. The Gladiator waited, while his opponent's arm was cut off and his head was bowed down as if he awaited death. And the crowd screamed and screamend. Death, Death, Death, Death, Death.

It rang in your ears, you didn't want to make this decision. But the moment you faced the Emperor, just as you opened your mouth, Geta simply bowed his thumb down - Death.

And the sword went down. Death.

The head dropped in the sand followed by the body, the cheers errupted in the arena, screaming the name of the victorious Gladiator. But you just stared into the nothingness that was in front of you, while you bit your tongue to the point of pain. "Don't pain yourself about this, my dear. There was only one answer anyways," Geta said while he suddenly reached out for your hand and kissed your knuckles, before he took his glass of wine. You didn't move, you couldn't.

Caracalla stared at this scenery and his fingers were shaking as his eyes darkened. The intense urge came up his mind: To simply take his brother and throw him from this box into the pit, his neck breaking from the impact. Those thoughts sometimes came and went, but they got more intense every time he saw Geta interacting with you. And this interaction hit a new high point in him that was only interruped by your form the moment you stood up.

"My Emperors, it was a pleasure to join you, but i need to leave now...", you said in a tone that tried so hard to be polite and not carry any emotion, before you turned your back and quickly stepped out of the imperial arena box, followed by your father General Acacius, who bowed and excused himself in an equally neutral tone.

Both Geta and Caracalla watched them leaving, before the taller one of the twins took a deep sip of his wine. "She'll learn to love it sooner or later."

______________________________

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champagnefountains · 1 year ago

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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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prythiansprincess · 1 year ago

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agora hills.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.

author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).

Enzo Berkshire was your best friend.

Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old.

Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone.

The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head.

It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day.

Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality.

In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands.

“Enz? What are you doing?”

Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

“I want to try something.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it.

Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus.

“Yes,” you responded breathily.

Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes.

Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach.

When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him.

“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”

The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance.

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too, Enzo.”

Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him.

“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open.

You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been.

Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning.

“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?”

“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”

“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”

“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”

Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?”

He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed.

“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”

You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond.

You were acting like a bloody idiot.

After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.

More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague.

You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream.

As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship.

You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?

By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms.

Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”

Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”

“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”

She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”

You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.

Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”

Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”

It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”

“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.

“Which one?”

“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”

“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”

“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”

Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”

“Was it me?” asked Theo.

“Gods, no.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”

You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”

The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?”

“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”

Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”

Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”

You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?

“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.”

You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?”

“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”

As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors.

Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?”

His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”

For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to.

Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?”

“Oh, yeah, about that—“

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”

Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo.

Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip.

You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”

“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”

Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie.

Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”

You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair.

Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now.

“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“I bet.”

You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra.

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”

“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Hi,” he said with a smile.

“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?”

“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”

“You’ve thought about me like this?”

“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”

Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?”

“I heard you in the common room earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw.

“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”

The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan.

Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt.

“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”

He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”

Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”

You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”

There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.”

You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed.

Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer.

“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.”

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?”

You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air.

Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.

“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.”

“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips.

Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.”

He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back.

“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”

The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too.

It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight.

The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours.

You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind.

It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets.

You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.

“Shit. Did we just—“

He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.”

You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.”

Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles.

“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”

“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?”

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”

“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?”

Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.”

You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”

“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.”

“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.”

He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”

#i hope you all see him for what he is now which is a sl*t #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire imagine

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andypantsx3 · 1 year ago

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READY OR KNOT | 2 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.9k, 2nd of 7 chapters

It turned out it was not so easy to forget what had happened with Shouto. Especially when Monday morning rolled around, and with it, some very pressing questions about the party.

Mina found you first thing in the morning, already up to your eyeballs in the case file at your desk. A frown marred her pretty mouth as she rounded the corner into the case analyst area. She neatly dodged your deskmate’s ginormous stack of paperwork, nearly as tall as she was, eyes homing in on you like dark little missiles.

“I heard about what happened with Suzuki,” she said, looking you over with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyebrows were drawn, her features pinched. It was an expression that didn’t overtake her cheerful visage all too often. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at her, the name escaping you for a moment, until you matched it up with the support alpha from the party on Friday. Your lips downturned in reflexive distaste.

“I’m fine. You must have heard that Shouto scared him off,” you answered. “All he really managed to do was imply some stuff.”

Mina’s eyebrow twitched, like she had more questions on that, but she dutifully adhered to the matter at hand first. “I did hear that and we are going to be discussing that in a second. But that doesn’t mean you’d still be okay with everything that did happen. I’ve got a meeting with HR about Suzuki this afternoon, and I’m thinking of firing him.”

You jolted, a quick pang of guilt striking through you. Firing him. That seemed a very intense option.

You thought Suzuki was an asshole, sure, and you remembered all too well the horror that had overtaken you as he’d reached for his belt. But you also knew he had been drunk out of his mind—drunk enough that he thought you were an omega of all things, somehow perceiving things that weren’t even there.

You’d thought about it a lot this weekend, running over the events in your mind, and while the whole incident left a sour taste in your mouth, you thought Suzuki probably had been close to alcohol poisoning considering how strongly he smelled of Tetsutetsu’s horrible drink. He wasn’t exactly sound of mind, the lines a little blurry.

You’d never waylaid anyone like that while intoxicated, but you had done and said your fair share of things you regretted when you’d sobered up. You didn’t know what to think.

You looked up at Mina, finding her watching you consideringly. “No?” she asked.

You scrubbed a hand over your face, unclear what the right thing was. “I saw him and he was like, really not all there, Mina. I think he should be punished for sure, but what if you gave him a warning that if this happens at all again, he’s gone?”

One of Mina’s eyebrows arched. “Shouto said he was holding you against the wall even after you said no.”

You could feel your nostrils flare in anger at the memory, the feeling of that hand against the wet patch on your shoulder, unbudging.

“He did, but he also thought I was an omega, Mina,” you said. “I think he was close to alcohol poisoning, actually. He hasn’t caused any other trouble like this, has he?”

Mina shook that head of wild pink curls. “No, he’s been a model employee thus far. But I still don’t like it. That’s not what the Pink Riot agency is.”

A sigh filled your lungs. The support of Mina and Kirishima was enough for now. “I don’t like it either. But he was drunk, and nothing did actually happen, thanks to Shouto. Give him a warning that any other tiny slip up means firing, and I will be satisfied.”

Mina looked hesitant, dark eyes searching over your face, but eventually she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine. Once and only because you’ll need an accurate record from support in your investigation and it will be harder to get if he’s gone. But he will be fired if I hear even a whiff of a rumor again.” She paused. “And you’ll have to talk to Eiji, because he’s going to like this even less than I do.”

That wrung a smile out of you.

Kirishima was a good alpha and seemed to think of the agency almost like his pack. As easygoing as he was, he guarded his people resolutely, like a farm dog patrolling a chicken coop. You could almost imagine him standing at attention, head forward and tail pointed like an arrow.

As heartwarming as that image was, that didn’t mean you wanted to be the one to tell him though. You shook your head, throwing out your hands. “Oh no. Your alpha, your problem. The one privilege of my secondary gender is I’m not part of this shit.”

Mina clucked, sighing. “He is my problem.”

You laughed, knowing very well she’d know how to solve it. But her expression shifted, suddenly looking sly, and you realized she was about to saddle you with another problem.

“You’ll have to tell Shouto then,” she said, her voice deceptively light.

You blinked, eyebrows raising. Shouto…? “Why the heck would I need to tell Shouto?”

A grin slowly crept over Mina’s mouth, and she leaned in conspiratorially, looking altogether too pleased. Her hot pink nails settled on the edge of your desk, tapping delightedly. “Because he’s your assigned supervising hero. And you’ll be seeing him again in just a few minutes.”

A sudden flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, your mind flashing through the feeling of Shouto over you, tall and strong and warm, pressing you carefully to the wall. You could all but feel the whisper of those pretty eyelashes on your skin, feel his careful exhale, the brush of his mouth against your throat.

Your ears prickled with heat, and you could feel your face go slack in shock. He would be here—? In front of you again?

“He’s—what?” you garbled out, trying to dispel the phantom feeling of Shouto against you.

Mina looked downright smug. “He asked to be assigned right after I spoke to him at the party on Friday. Interesting, don’t you think?”

Heat licked at your cheeks. “Is it,” you managed tightly. “That’s… nice of him.”

“Very,” Mina agreed. “Especially since I heard about what happened after Suzuki left.”

You hated her.

“I’m a beta,” you reminded her, not liking the implication.

Mina’s dark eyes rolled. “Eiji liked me even when he thought I might present as a beta.”

“That’s different,” you told her, floored that you’d sidetracked into this so quickly. “I’m actually a beta. Also what the hell are we even talking about. This is a work case.”

Mina flapped a hand at you. “I’m sure you’ll both work it very hard, very thoroughly,” she said with no small amount of relish.

You seized the case file in question, holding it up between you like a shield, flapping it at her in turn. The manila folder flopped stiffly, the pages making a sort of wobbly sound. “Why are you like this,” you hissed.

Mina’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to respond, when the soft tread of a boot in the hall made her perk up. Her grin went unholy. “Speak of the devil,” she said.

Shouto certainly did not look like the devil, as he rounded the corner. The fluorescent lighting made a sort of soft halo off the glossy strands of his distinct two-toned hair, and his features were just as angelic as you remembered—finely-wrought and almost deliberately formed, as though he were sculpture from the hands of a master. He was almost too beautiful to look at this early in the morning, and you felt your breath draw up short in your lungs.

He blinked when he saw you, those heterochromatic eyes widening nearly imperceptibly as he approached.

“Morning, Shouto-kun,” she purred. You hated her.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone low and soft. Your fingers tightened on the file folder, bracing yourself against the loveliness of the sound.

A flush rose to your cheeks as you did so, and Shouto’s eyes followed you curiously. Beneath the high collar of his hero uniform, you could just glimpse a flash of his scent patches, neatly placed as usual. You wondered absently what he would smell like if you peeled them back and leaned in close. As a beta, your nose was not as good as the other genders, but if you got in close enough, and if Shouto’s scent was strong enough, you’d probably be able to tell.

He looked like he’d smell delicious.

A cackle from Mina alerted you to the horrifying fact that you’d just been staring at Shouto as he approached, mouth open and expression vacant.

“Uh… good morning,” you managed.

The corner of Shouto’s mouth quirked up, and something beneath your skin tingled in response.

“I hope you are well,” he murmured.

You could see Mina’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with barely suppressed glee, and a sudden bolt of shame went through you.

Just because it was super obvious how hot you found Shouto didn’t mean he felt the same. He was a fucking pro hero for crying out loud. Rescuing people was what he did—the save on Friday did not have to mean anything.

Plus, knowing for sure that he was an alpha had closed the window on your little celebrity crush. Out of the hundreds of couples you’d met in your lifetime, you’d only ever met one alpha-beta pairing—both tradition and biology seemed to win out in almost all mated pairs, alphas and omegas unable to help their inherent attraction to one another.

And with that in mind, it was actually super disrespectful of you to even think about this impending partnership in any terms less-than-professional.

You rallied yourself, inclining your head respectfully to Shouto, gesturing with the case file in your hands.

“Yep, I’m good. I’m grateful for the save and I’m sure I’ll be even more grateful for your help on this case.” You turned to your boss, routing her back on track. “Mina, what information have you shared and what do I need to get him up to speed on?”

Mina’s pout was so defined it could be seen from space. You ignored her, raising your eyebrows.

“I only put the call out to other agency heads for a supervising out-of-agency hero. Just that it’s an omega assault case possibly involving a pro, and your name as the lead investigator.”

Your gaze returned to Shouto. He was still watching you intently.

“How much time do you have before you’re needed back at your agency?” you asked him. “Do you want to grab a conference room and I’ll get you up to speed? I’m sure Mina has a lot to do just now.”

He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that should not have wrung the oxygen out of the atmosphere, but did. “I am on patrol after lunch, but I’ve asked that my schedule be cleared until then.”

Perfect. Plenty of time. You stood, hefting the case file with you, clearly dismissing Mina, who looked put out.

“Great, I’ll show you to the conference room then,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mina flashing you a pink finger, and you could easily guess which one. You stuck out your tongue at her as you passed Shouto so he couldn’t see, not above pettiness.

You gestured Shouto into one of the smaller rooms across the floor with especially good soundproofing, holding the door open for him. You sucked in a breath as he brushed past you, trying not to admire how tall and broad he was, the way those shoulders spanned the breadth of the doorway.

Shouto took a seat and you spread the case file out before him, trying not to look down at him as he glanced up at you. His fingers twitched on the conference table, like he was holding them in place. You carefully retreated to a safer distance, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him.

“Okay so the basic brief is as Mina said. There have been multiple reports of a suspected pro harassing omegas late at night in Bunkyo. Initially they were identified as a masked male wearing scent patches, roughly five foot ten, always wearing some dark jacket. But the suspected hero element came into play late last week when they attempted to strap quirk suppressors on their target. The omega in question had a vapor quirk so she was able to dissolve and escape before he did.”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you as you spoke, solemn and attentive.

“So far the suspect has not shown any signs of a quirk himself, and without any scent ID it’s hard to know what secondary gender to look for. Our best option is to work the possible-pro-hero angle and rule out who we can, since that’s all the identifiable detail we have on this guy at this time.”

Shouto nodded, propping an elbow on the table. You tried to ignore how even that small gesture made him look like a center spread in Heroes Illustrated.

“I’d like to read the individual reports and hear your plan once I have,” Shouto said.

You perked up, pleased with the terms he was speaking in. A good case analyst always had at least a sketch of a plan—what order to speak to specific people in, which angles had highest priority of investigation, and how the labor could be divided and work double-checked.

Most heroes were people of action and hated having to be corralled into approaching cases like some sort of assignment, instead of busting in and blowing things apart. But it was the best way to make sure all avenues were investigated thoroughly and that work was peer-reviewed in case someone missed something.

Shouto’s phraseology told you he was familiar with approaching cases like this, meaning he probably listened to the Todoroki agency analysts. You’d never worked closely enough with him before to know, only trading high-level information back and forth on a couple of joint cases, presenting findings in a meeting room stuffed full of Pink Riot and Todoroki agency heroes.

You found yourself smiling faintly.

“I’ll get you some coffee while you read. Everything is in chronological order in the file and I’ve tabulated some notes,” you said. “How do you take yours?”

Shouto’s gaze slid over you, careful and assessing. He paused. “I’ve been told I should not share that information.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Your… coffee order?”

Shouto nodded seriously. “Bakugou says it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”

Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight, that was—was Kirishima’s best friend, a loud alpha of an explosive manner and incendiary opinions who often showed up unprompted at the agency to stomp around and mean mug, all the while hiding that he was attempting to press leftovers on Kiri and Mina. You laughed, curious what Bakugou had browbeaten another pro over.

“Your secret will be safe with me,” you said coaxingly.

Shouto blinked, mouth quirking slightly again. He looked like he genuinely liked the idea of that, and your stomach fluttered in response.

Of course then he opened his mouth and provided a rundown of the inhumanly numerous sugars and syrups he liked, such that it constituted more of a soft drink than a coffee order. You tried to keep your eyebrows from creeping up into your hairline, smothering a laugh.

That was so unexpectedly cute. Especially for an alpha.

“One coma-inducing order of sugar with a splash of coffee, coming right up,” you saluted him.

He did something with his face that was a cross between a tiny smile and a pout, and you threw yourself out the door before you dissolved into a puddle of goop.

You went down to the cafe that operated out of the ground floor of the Pink Riot building, a favorite lunch spot of most of the heroes for how enormous their sandwiches were. The order took a fair few minutes, as it took the barista a good while to pump in the zillions of requested syrups, his eyebrows raised nearly to the moon as you recited them.

When you returned to the conference room, Shouto was already well into the case file. He glanced up as you entered, those heterochromatic eyes pinning you with an unexpected intensity. You started, wondering if you’d done something wrong.

But then his mouth slid into another tiny smile, and he looked so genuinely pleased to see you—or the coffee cup—you found yourself helplessly smiling back.

After depositing his cup next to him, you fetched your laptop and emailed Shouto’s agency the case files while he read. You wrote up the preliminary notes you’d been able to pull together on the case—a list of three agency heroes whose exact whereabouts had been accounted for during one or more of the incidents, who were therefore not on your list of possibilities.

Shouto was staring at you when you shook yourself out of work mode an hour later, quiet and intent. You startled, jumping in your seat.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry—did you say something? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said.

Shouto shook his head, another smile quirking that perfect mouth. That expression was growing familiar. “I have just finished,” he said.

A sense of relief washed over you. “Okay great. Did anything stick out to you that you think I’ve missed so far?”

“No,” he murmured. “Your work is very thorough. I would like to hear your plan.”

His tone was low, almost appreciative, and you tried not to let it go to your head.

“Okay, then we’ll begin with the active duty and equipment logs,” you told him. “I’m already through all of the duty logs available, but I still need the one from Thursday when the last incident happened—it’s supposed to be ready this afternoon. That will rule out a few heroes, and the equipment logs can tell us more about who had what out during the time of the attacks—I think we start with the heroes who had suppressors on them then.”

Shouto nodded, looking like he was following along. “You want to narrow the pool before you speak to anyone in case you arouse suspicion.”

You nodded, pleased he understood. “Yes.”

That blue and gray gaze nearly pinned you to your seat. “That is smart.”

A sudden wash of heat licked up your spine, pooling in your limbs. You struggled to keep your face neutral, your ears burning. “Th—thanks.”

“Who have you ruled out so far?” he asked.

You turned your screen to him, showing the notes you’d drawn up. “Kiri’s clear—no shock there—Tetsutetsu, and Tetsu’s sidekick who was with him on a cleanup during the first incident. I’m hoping Thursday’s log will clear at least one or two more.”

Shouto inclined his head in agreement. “And your interview plan?”

You smiled, and scrolled down to your notes on that, pleased at how he was letting you lead the investigation. He listened intently as you walked him through an outline, double-checking that everything worked with his schedule.

As you talked, he offered a few suggestions of his own, but he mostly seemed content to follow your outline—completely unlike even the most agreeable of the Pink Riot agency alphas. In fact it was so contradictory to everything you’d experienced thus far that you found your gaze darting to his scent patches over and over again, as if assessing whether they were really covering up an alpha scent.

But no—you had felt the pull of his Order under your skin on Friday. You, a beta, naturally resistant to Orders in the way omegas weren’t. And you’d gone so boneless against him, too, affected by his proximity in the most embarrassing way. Shouto was definitely an alpha, with that kind of pull—and probably a preternaturally strong one at that.

But he was also just—your eyes drifted to his coma-inducing coffee cup—kind of a strange one, too.

The two of you discussed the case for a few more minutes—until your stomach growled, loud enough to interrupt your planning, and the corner of Shouto’s lips lifted again.

“Would you like to finish up over lunch?” he asked, saving you the embarrassment of excusing yourself.

You grinned. “I think my stomach already answered for me,” you agreed.

Shouto helped you reorganize the paper files and lingered over you as you locked them into your desk cabinet, waiting for you patiently. Then he let you lead him downstairs to the cafe. You were conscientious of not standing too close to him in the elevator, all too aware of him in that tiny, enclosed space.

When you made it down to the ground floor, Shouto surprised you by steering you over to one of the tables, bidding you to sit.

“What do you enjoy here?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. “I would like to get it for you.”

You shook your head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I should be treating you for the save. How about you tell me what you want?”

Those heterochromatic eyes blinked down at you, and a tiny crease appeared between Shouto’s eyebrows. His mouth turned down. Against the subtlety of his expressions thus far, the look appeared almost distressed. “I insist,” he said, something strange in his tone.

“Shouto, really, I—-”

“I insist,” Shouto said, a little more firmly. There was the flicker of something strange under your skin again, like the tiny molecules of your body shifting in response to him.

You froze, startled, and your mouth opened for you before you realized what you were doing. “I—a pesto sandwich—”

You clamped your mouth shut, mystified.

But Shouto looked pleased. He smiled, wider than you had seen so far, a devastatingly handsome quarter-moon sliver that sent your pulse pounding in your ears. You watched him turn and walk off, something you might have said was almost smug in his step, had you known him better.

You sank into one of the seats, befuddled by what had just happened.

Shouto returned a few minutes later with water and an order number, placing the bottle in front of you like an offering. You regrouped, thanking him, then raised your eyebrows as he leaned forward, looking serious.

“I have been wanting to ask. Where does the alpha who harassed you work?” he asked, his tone dropping low. A strip of afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, dancing like flickering flames in the strands of scarlet, liming them in an orange glow.

He was beautiful in the sun, and it took you a minute to reroute your brain from his face to his question.

“Suzuki’s in support,” you said. “But Mina’s disciplining him, and I don’t have to see him often. I do expect he’ll behave after this. But why do you ask?”

Shouto frowned, leaning in closer. “Support maintains the equipment logs.”

It was the same at the Pink Riot agency too. “I—well, yes, but—”

“I should like to be there when you go to support,” Shouto said, catching your eye. His expression shifted into something solemn, his mouth a flat line.

You waved your hand dismissively. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything, it’s literally just logs—”

“I must insist,” Shouto said again, his tone soft but unmistakably firm. His fingers flexed tightly where they rested on the edge of the table, the knuckle of his index turning white.

Despite yourself, his concern warmed you, that hot, tingly feeling heating your ears again.

“I really would be okay,” you said. “But if it means something—I’ll wait until tomorrow when you get here?”

Shouto nodded. “I would like that very much.”

A smile teased at your mouth. Now that was stereotypical alpha behavior, much as you appreciated his concern. Suzuki wasn’t going to jump you over a log file in a workplace—especially not after Mina had taken him to task. Shouto’s concern was unnecessary, but so very typical of an alpha. It felt familiar, like Kirishima’s brand of protectiveness over his tight knit agency, you thought. Harmless and well-intentioned.

A tray being placed on your table cut off any response you might have given, and your eyes blew wide as you registered the amount of food on it. Your mouth dropped open when a second tray was placed alongside the first one, the cafe worker smiling down at Shouto before she left, clearly recognizing him.

Shouto looked down at the food, his features arranged in minute shock.

“I do not remember ordering this…” he said, glancing at his receipt slip. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, that crease appearing between them again as his eyes flickered over the order. Then he cut himself off, those long eyelashes fluttering. “I… apologize.”

Apologize? Meaning, he had ordered this?

“You bought all this?” you asked, floored.

Shouto gave a tight nod. “It… would seem so.”

Your gaze picked over the trays again. They were piled high with at least six sandwiches, several pastries, a takeout container of soup, four different kinds of cookies, two fruit cups, and a handful of the granola bars they kept by the register. It was a literal mountain of food, and you sort of doubted even a pro hero could put that much away in one sitting.

“If you were so hungry we could have come down so much earlier,” you insisted, but Shouto’s embarrassed expression only deepened.

“It is… not for me,” he said slowly. It looked like it pained him to admit it.

You blinked, drawing back in your seat. “It’s…..me?”

Shouto nodded seriously.

A shocked laugh leapt out of you, bright and pleased. “Shouto, I was hungry but this is like, eleven meals!”

“You will have leftovers, then,” Shouto replied, sounding embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red where they peeked through his mop of multicolored hair.

You were so suddenly, utterly charmed by him, a splash of warmth pooling in your stomach, flooding through your limbs. You had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to do this, but it was undeniably sweet. Coupled with the easy way he’d let you take the lead on the investigation, and the way he’d moved to protect you on Friday night—it all painted a portrait of a very good, very kind sort of person.

You’d really lucked into a good partnership. You were grateful.

“Thank you, Shouto,” you said sincerely. A hint of a flush colored his high cheekbones, and he nodded.

You decided not to press him anymore, setting aside your speculation for when he’d gone. Instead, you unearthed your requested sandwich from the mound of food, and selecting a pastry at random. Shouto watched you as you bit into your food, a strange sort of intensity in his gaze.

Eventually, however, he took his own food, and the two of you chatted as you ate, moving on from the case to discuss his patrol, your shared friends, and a slew of other silly topics. You found him just as easy to talk to outside of case work—he had the same straightforward way of approaching life as he did his casework, his outlook consummately honest and thoughtful.

You regretted it when Shouto eventually had to excuse himself for patrol, but not before disappearing and reappearing with a takeout containers and a bag for all the things he’d ordered you, which he carefully but insistently packed away, before putting in front of you with a meaningful look.

You laughed again, taking the bag from him as you got up to make your way back upstairs as well.

“Thank you for lunch,” you told him, trying to convey how sincerely grateful you were. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.” You stuck out your hand to him, smiling up at him.

Shouto’s expression didn’t change much, but his mismatched gaze grew warmer where it rested on you. “As am I,” he said, tone soft.

Long fingers curled around yours, and for a moment you felt that same, weak-kneed desire to collapse against him as you had on Friday. It took an inordinate amount of focus to pump his hand in a handshake, and even more willpower to let him go.

You waved him off, and watched him go, feeling a strange sense of emptiness as that broad back disappeared through the door. In just a few short hours, it seemed, Todoroki Shouto had dug himself a comfortable little spot in your heart—far deeper than a case partner should have.

You ruminated on this as you made your way back upstairs, mind running over the events of the last few days. You couldn’t figure out why Shouto was having a weirder effect on you than any other alpha, even accounting for his unearthly good looks, nor why he seemed to be equally lost today—ordering a zillion things without even realizing he’d done so.

As you made your way back to your desk and cracked open the case file again, you resolved to solve this mystery as well. You were good at getting to the bottom of things—and Todoroki Shouto would be no exception.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto #tw: a/b/o

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harleys1nhawaii · 7 months ago

Text

PROMISE

pairing: dabi / touya todoroki x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, bnha season 7 spoilers, fluff, little bit of angst, idk

a/n: wrote this after reading the chapter 426 shaking and crying. isn’t proof read and i don’t even wanna read this lol. i love him sm it hurts.

“you’re silent.” his voice is low and gentle.

your gaze falls from that one exact star you were eyefucking for the past 3 minutes and focuses onto a different one. it wasn’t that you loved the star that much. your eyes just couldn’t move as you imagined your boyfriends burnt to death body over and over again. it was fucked up, the way you felt your guts twitching inside of you, the way the lump in your throat tightened your senses.

it takes quite a work and resistance for you to not turn to him and let him see the vulnerability in your eyes.

you force out a dry chuckle, the smile that couldn’t reach your eyes falling down seconds later. you didn’t have the self strength to keep it on.

“am i?”

his eyebrows furrowed as he blowed out the smoke. he always knew this day would come, it had to. and it came off easy, because you also knew it. he had to face that man, had to kill him. his father. it didn’t sound right. you would call him anything but a father.

touya didn’t really know what would be your response, nor what would your behavior be like. you were as unexpected as him, but he also had your pieces in his pockets. hell, he had all of it in his mind. he knew you better than anyone, better than even you did for sure. but your behavior turned out to be more different than anticipated.

you just fell silent. kept putting on weird acts and seemed to accept.

in reality; you didn’t, really. you just had to think about it. poisonous thoughts that’s been roaming around your mind just weren’t letting you to come up with something. you bit your tongue and let your sharp nails abuse your palms. it shouldn’t have felt this horrible.

you feel an arm wrapping around your waist and drop your gaze to the owner of it. you didn’t realize him coming closer. he shifts you onto his lap with a quick pull of your body.

“talk to me, doll. i need to know how you feel like.”his gaze burns into your eyes. you feel distressed for a reason. your body squeezes in itself and leaves you breathless. you couldn’t point out the center of the pain but you felt it. buried deep inside your skin, very close to your heart. it was a burning desire to throw hands and do something. to prevent the loss and pain. though no matter how close it felt you just couldn’t reach it.

“i feel fine.” you mutter, fingers holding the cigarette harshly this time. you put the cancer stick into your mouth and just when you’re about to blow out the smoke, he draws it and throws it down the roof you two are sitting on.

“what the hell was that?” you can’t help but snap. ha takes your hand into his. your eyes meet his’ helplessly. a stern yet calm look was plastered on his face. you can tell there’s some worry on there too, it is concealed but you can see it.

“don’t do something you might regret later.” he says just about a whisper. it is visible how your face drops and your heart skips a beat. “don’t say stupid shit.” you snarl as your eyes dart around.

“i’m offended you’d insinuate that i was tryna be mean.”

“not insinuating, just warning.”

“stop fucking talking like that.” you raise your voice once again. if doing it would help you to swallow your tears, then so be it.

“talking like what?”

“like you’re gonna die.” your voice falls silent at the end. eyes filling up with the tears that you’ve been resisting to be seen for weeks. your gaze shifting from him once again, focusing on something else.

now he’s feeling that lump down his throat too. truth be told, he always had. but what could you say to someone that has dedicated their whole life to get revenge? “don’t”? “stay with me”? you knew better than to beg him. you knew nothing could stop him, not even you. therefore, you understood. you accepted that it was bound to happen sometime. but your mind just couldn’t work the information, couldn’t get used to it.

“doll,” he croakes, his voice is uncharacteristically soft. “i’m sorry.” your eyes falls on him once again, this time it was fast, almost hastily. and for just a moment, something in his gaze shifts. his eyes avoid yours and look to the side. now you’re the one chasing his eyes, funny.

“why?” you mutter. you don’t wanna sound scared, even though you do feel like it. maybe cause you just can’t help but think hiding your feelings will make them go away. you are a pretty hopeless yet funny individual.

“for worrying you.” he falls silent for a moment after that. “i don’t want ya’ to feel like this. though i can’t do anything about it.”

“it’s okay.” you say. this time you’re not trying hard to look perfectly unaffected and fine. “i understand it, i’m sorry too.” you can feel his eyes on you back again.

“why?” he asks in confusion.

“i don’t know. about everything, i guess.” a tear drops on his collarbone as you lower your head. dabi frowns again, exhaling a long sigh. you had nothing to blame, you hadn’t even done anything.

his right arm wraps around your waist tighter as he pulls you towards him. his lips just hover above yours, noses touching. your eyes focuses on his’ once again, and at that very exact moment, your hearts feel warm and whole again. almost like no matter how hurt and deprived one would feel, no matter the struggles and the wars that were went through, there was always someone to wrap their love around that shattered heart and make it whole again.

“i promise you, i’ll crawl back to you baby.” his voice is now a whisper, other hand moving to your cheek and cupping it in his palm. “at anytime, anywhere.” your cold body melts in his warmness, your head falling on his hand. it ignites something in him, a sense of responsibility. to come back and hold you like this again, to protect you from everything that can ever hurt you.

“what if you can’t?” your voice cracks. it’s almost unable to hear, but he does.

he brings his hand up and sticks out his pinky. a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. (though, it was too heartwarming that he wouldn’t think he could do that)

the joy of blooming asters hung heavy in his chest. like the warm summer sun after the cold winter breeze. he never knew he could be capable of feeling this. and now that he tasted it, he didn’t wanna let it go. he swore on his life to keep it with him forever, not softening his grip on it for once. “the world is cruel, therefore i won’t be. not with you.”

your shaky hand rises from his shoulder and your pinky wraps his’.

“promise?” you ask. this time you feel that little spark of hope ignite somewhere deep inside your chest. you don’t wanna beg for impossible. you don’t want this hope to go on waste.

dabi usually doesn’t make promises. truth is, less than usually; he never does. but having experienced the innocence and longing of your love shattered and replaced all his senses. you were the closest thing to heaven he’d ever get. and dabi didn’t wanna go home.

he didn’t wanna set things on fire anymore. that’s all.

and he would give up forever to have you.

“i promise, doll.”

570 notes · View notes

mionemymind · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: Second to You

My Rival Series

Summary: “I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained.

But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?

Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

A/n: Gif credits to @aftertheglitterfades

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

One Month - Spring Semester

“Please be a hundred - please be a hundred.” The brown eyed girl silently pleaded under her breath. Her hands were clenched together, easily covering her mouth. She couldn’t, actually wouldn’t, give her the satisfaction of seeing her nervous.

With her dark brown hair, quick green eyes, and pretentious smile, Wanda Maximoff already had a lot going for her, something Y/n could easily list out. ‘So god forbid, please humble her for one moment’ Y/n thought to herself.

Trying her best to not seem so obsessed, Y/n carefully studied Wanda’s reaction. While the rest of the class seemed upset over their grades, seeing Wanda’s smile among the crowd of frowns ticked something inside Y/n. ‘Oh please, not another 100.’ But there went that fucking cocky smile, one that brought Wanda’s dimples out, and Y/n knew the answer.

Looking back at Professor Hathaway, the older woman gently smiled at Y/n as she handed her test backwards, careful to not expose her grade. Once she passed, Y/n slowly flipped it over, eyes squinted as if it would help lessen the blow.

‘Oh god - a 99.’ Y/n tried to steel herself from any reaction. She knew Wanda would be looking at her like a hawk. Taking a peak past the paper, Y/n could easily spot those green eyes anywhere in a crowd. And just as Y/n expected, Wanda was looking.

“Okay class, this week's test was better. We currently have a class average of 65. There were two outliers that have caused the average to bump up. For those that need help for next week, please feel free to reach out to see where we can improve. No homework due but please try to review the remarks I’ve made.”

Everyone was quick to start packing up, especially those that barely scored a passing D. But for Y/n, she packed quickly to avoid Wanda. Hearing Wanda talk about another perfect score would only rile her up and considering she still had to study for the managerial accounting test, talking to Wanda was the last thing she wanted.

But Y/n never got what she wanted. When a classmate accidentally bumped into her backpack, causing the contents to spill, Y/n couldn’t help me internally curse at her luck. “I’m really sorry about that Y/n!”

Y/n didn’t dare focus on the feeling of Wanda getting closer, she didn’t even need to see to know she was only a meter away. “It’s okay Katie. Just be careful next time.” The blonde meekly smiled as she walked off to her next lecture, leaving Y/n behind to pick her stuff up.

Just as the final book was stuffed into her bag, Y/n rose up from the ground, ready to grab her test, but Wanda was quicker. Holding back her distaste, Y/n watched as Wanda’s smug smile grew seeing the 99 plastered right at the corner.

“Better luck next time, Y/l/n,” Wanda proudly stated as she held up the perfect grade written on her test. Holding back her profanities, Y/n snatched her test and shoved it at the bottom of her backpack. “And messing up a simple year for Renoir’s paintings, my my, this is easy at this point.”

Y/n slung her backpack and started to walk out of the lecture hall. Usually, no response and the sight of someone leaving would give a normal person the idea that they don’t want to talk. But Wanda wasn’t normal by any means.

She walked at a similar fast pace beside Y/n, enjoying the silent treatment she was receiving. “Not gonna talk? Ya know, I could help you study in case you need it.”

Y/n scoffed as they exited the humanities building. ‘The nerve.’ Y/n thought.

It was a nice spring at Evergreen University. The weather was at a perfect 75 degrees. People were out on the lawn, enjoying themselves, hanging out with friends, having picnics, overall having a great time. But none of that was something Y/n hardly got to experience nowadays.

For the majority of the first month of the spring semester, Y/n had either been stuck at her dorm, the library, or some other student’s dorm, helping them study. The luxury of having fun was something Y/n could hardly afford. Not when Wanda Maximoff was a constant reminder of your failure to beat her.

“99 is still good, Maximoff, in case you forgot.” They passed by a couple of people that knew Wanda, but that didn’t deter the brunette at all. She waved at them with her perfect smile which irritated Y/n even more.

“She speaks! Didn’t know you were settling for second place now. You must’ve lost your confidence. Afraid you can’t beat me?” Y/n grumbled something that Wanda couldn’t hear.

With Y/n’s dorm hall getting closer, the brown eyed girl quickened her pace, hoping that Wanda would stop. “More like I don’t want to humble you. Princess might get hurt if I actually try my best.”

Wanda feigned hurt, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “Going for the ego jab? What will I ever do?” Wanda laughed, a laugh that came from her chest, one that was wholehearted, and god did Y/n hate it. “Takes more than that to hurt me.”

Stopping right before the entrance, Y/n halted infront of Wanda, the two almost colliding.

“Oh yeah? Then-”

“Y/n, can you help me with accounting?” Y/n turned around to her savior. It was one of her classmates from her managerial class. Her name was Holly.

“Sure thing.” Unbeknownst to Y/n, Wanda rolled her eyes at the pathetic excuse. Holly was a smart girl, one that hardly needed to study. This was all just a lame excuse to hang out with Y/n, something Wanda easily saw through.

Adjusting her backpack, Y/n walked towards Holly, holding the door open. Looking back at Wanda with a frown, Y/n remarked, “Next time, I won’t go easy.”

Midway - Spring Semester

“Are you going to come with me to the party?” It was a Saturday night at Evergreen University. Parties were a typical thing especially since the campus had a large selection of greek life.

However, today was not a typical Saturday. Midterms were finally over and the majority of campus was out for the night, trying to enjoy a little stress reliever.

“Can’t Natty. I gotta study.” Y/n said hunched over a book. While Y/n did receive well above passing grades, none of them could compete with Wanda’s. It’s like no matter how much Y/n studied, there was always one small detail that would prevent her from being perfect.

“You’re always studying. Can’t you give me at least one night away from all of this.” Natasha looked around the room, Y/n’s side was filled to the brim with various books, journals, and papers. It was an academic mess.

“You know I can’t.” Natasha sighed at Y/n’s response. She walked towards her bed, giving Y/n a tight hug. Having been roommates since freshman year, Natasha knew how Y/n was when it came to her academics.

“At least I have senior year to try.” Y/n laughed, knowing that she’d never really go to a party. She had nothing against them, but the idea of pretending like you’re having fun was exhausting for her.

“Text or call me if you need me to pick you up, okay? I’ll have my ringer on the highest volume.” Natasha grabbed her phone and keys, blowing a fake kiss to Y/n.

“Thanks love. Stay up till 1:00 am for me? If I don’t text you by then, go to sleep. I’ll have a ride.” Y/n gave a thumbs up as Natasha left.

Looking back at the time, it was only 10:00 pm. The dorms hardly muffled the loud music playing on the floor above. And knowing the RA on the floor, they’d simply dismiss it until 2:00 am.

Shaking her head, Y/n grabbed the nearest bag and stuffed the essentials she needed. A night trip to the library wasn’t going to hurt.

“Accounting can literally go fuck themselves,” Y/n uttered. She was currently tucked away in a far corner on the fourth level of the library. This place hardly had any students around and with midterms being over, not a single soul was in the library at this time, well besides Y/n.

“I need a break.” Pushing the chair back, Y/n stretched her legs and arms out, releasing out a weird primal groan in the process. Tapping her phone screen, it was a quarter past twelve. Her body was stiff and desperately needed a walk.

“How the hell am I so stiff?” Y/n cracked her neck, hands, and knuckles, a very bad habit she developed at a young age.

Grabbing her wallet, Y/n walked away from her spot and traversed through the long aisles of books. She eyed a couple of interesting subjects on the way to the vending machine, saving them in her head the next time she needed a new book to read.

It didn’t take long before she spotted the bright fluorescent machine. Eying the choices, there wasn’t much. To play it safe, she got a Pepsi and quickly started to drink it.

‘I really need to start drinking more water.’ The thoughts on being healthy always came around this time, among other things. So to distract herself more, Y/n walked around the floor, hoping to do some exploring.

She was hardly a couple of meters away when Y/n saw her. Asleep on top of her books and notes, mouth slightly parted, and slightly shivering was Wanda Maximoff. The sight caused Y/n’s breathing to hitch. The grip on the bottle tightened, feeling already irritated and Wanda hadn’t even said a word.

Looking around for anyone nearby, Y/n grumbled knowing that no one else would be studying on a weekend this late at night, but of course the only two people on the campus that would be are herself and Wanda.

Y/n wanted to leave, everything from her mind and body told her to walk away and act like you didn’t see her. But how could Y/n ignore the way Wanda’s body shivered from being under the a/c? How could she ignore the way her lips twitched from reacting to a dream? How could Y/n ever ignore her?

Betraying all logic, Y/n walked to Wanda’s table. Although she wanted to wake her up, which would’ve been the nice thing to do, the large part of Y/n didn’t want Wanda to know she could be kind to her.

They’ve been at this stupid ‘race’ or ‘competition’ since freshman year ever since they took the intro to biology together. A lot of the people in the class had struggled, especially those that were not pursuing a STEM major. So when the professor made a light comment that Wanda was always first place in the class and Y/n was second, something inside them changed.

Maybe it was the way Y/n noticed how much Wanda thrived under praise or how she loved answering the professor’s questions. None of the characteristics really bothered Y/n at all and she certainly didn’t care to be second. But then more exams came and Wanda was always first and Y/n was always second.

Next came the light taunting from her friends, saying Wanda has never been beaten academically that it started to rub you the wrong way. And then came the fateful day, where Wanda had come to Y/n after class ended and asked, “Do you want help with biology?”

The question was supposed to be harmless, but it was the fact that Y/n was around with her friends who then started to chuckle and taunt the question. It felt embarrassing especially since she didn’t even suck at the subject.

So with a sore ego and hurt pride, Y/n mumbled a no and walked away as her friends howled even more. Ever since then, the two have been at it. And by the looks of it, it was not going to stop.

‘Just walk away and let her deal with it.’ The thoughts in her head were convincing. Wanda would eventually wake up and be fine. She would get up, go back to her dorm, and probably act like nothing happened.

Turning back around, Y/n almost walked away but her heart couldn’t. Sleeping alone in this lonely part of the library was not something Y/n wanted for Wanda. Looking around the table, Y/n spotted Wanda’s phone past all the humanities notes.

Grabbing it, Y/n was surprised to find that there was no passcode. ‘Maximoff, you really need to change that.’

Looking through her contacts, Y/n finally was able to find Pietro. Sending a quick ‘pick me up from the fourth floor of the library’ felt harmless. Especially since it sounded like something she would say.

Placing the phone back in its original spot, Y/n felt satisfied enough to walk away. But Wanda just had to whimper in her sleep, still shivering from the cold.

Y/n would never admit it outloud but she would have cursed Evergreen University for making their libraries so cold. Taking off her flannel, Y/n shook her head as she placed it on top of Wanda. She had plenty more in the closet, so losing one was not going to hurt.

‘I fucking hate her.’ Y/n convinced herself as she finally walked away from Wanda. The brown eyed girl got back to her table. It was useless to continue to study. Wanda was all she could think about right now.

Sighing, Y/n grabbed her phone. It was getting close to 12:30 and there was still no text from Natasha. Packing her stuff up, Y/n walked out the library at a slow place. Within a block away from the library, Pietro had jogged past Y/n, not even recognizing the girl with how dim the streetlights were.

No one else witnessed this, and once again Y/n would never admit it, but she did smile knowing Wanda was going to be okay.

Pietro could hardly make his way through the library. If we’re being honest, he kind of forgot that this library was 24/7. After scrounging through the fourth floor, he finally found Wanda asleep at her study table.

Muttering curses under his breath, he walked to her, ignoring the flannel that covered her. ‘I didn't even take that long.’ He thought to himself. Pietro had only taken around 10-15 minutes to get to her. How did she manage to fall asleep?

“Sestra.” Wanda woke up from the constant tugging on her shoulder. Grumbling a few incoherent words, she sat up, barely awake. Yawning into her hand, Pietro shook his head at the sight of Wanda. “You fell asleep studying, again?”

Wanda shrugged her shoulders, too tired to even respond. “Let's get you back to your dorm.”

As Pietro helped Wanda pack her stuff up, the brunette finally noticed the flannel on her shoulders. She snaked her arms through it, enjoying the warmth and comfort it provided.

Too tired to think, Wanda followed Pietro out of the library and to her dorm hall. It didn’t take long for them to arrive. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t have a roommate, perks of having rich parents.

Pietro had muttered a goodbye as he dropped Wanda’s bag near her desk. He flipped the lights off and closed the door.

Wanda easily slipped under the covers, flannel still on. The cologne was distinct, something her body already knew who it belonged to. But having been too tired to think, Wanda simply thought it was Pietro’s flannel.

But had she actually paid attention, she would’ve noticed the only person using this cologne was Y/n. Had she been paying attention, she would’ve noticed how much her body enjoyed having the flannel on. Had she been paying any attention, she would have noticed that the flannel was slightly too small to fit on Pietro.

And if Wanda had a bit more energy, she would have noticed that her subconscious didn’t fight the feeling of Y/n.

Almost a week has gone by since the library situation. Y/n was certain that Wanda had figured out her stunt. I mean the flannel had her initials written on the underside of the tag. But when Wanda walked into class, flannel surprisingly on, it shocked Y/n.

‘Does she seriously not know?’ During the whole lecture, Y/n could not focus. All her undivided attention was on Wanda Maximoff. The way the flannel hung off her shoulders or the way she would purposely cover her hands with the sleeves.

Every single detail was not left unnoticed. And as class ended, Wanda came over with her usual smug self. She made a comment or two, but Y/n hadn’t heard a single thing. Not when her flannel was still being worn by Wanda Maximoff.

And by the looks of it, Wanda didn’t know. It literally took Natasha shoving Y/n for the brown eyed girl to even respond. “See ya, Maximoff.”

Y/n had panicked and blanked hard. She left in such a hurry that even Wanda was confused.

“What’s up with her?” Wanda asked Natasha, but even she didn’t know.

“Okay, this has been like the 10th time you’ve looked at her in this past conversation. What’s up with you?” If Y/n could, she would leave the country at the moment. Feeling so embarrassed, Y/n thought about denying Natasha’s comment, but god she was being so obvious about it.

“I-,” Y/n sighed with her head in her hands. “I did something nice to someone I usually don’t do anything for.”

Natasha hummed as she ate her banana. She carefully looked back and noticed Wanda talking with some of her friends out on the lawn. They were too far away to even notice the pair, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

“So you were nice to Maximoff? What’s the big deal?” It irritated Y/n that Natasha could be so nonchalant about everything. Couldn’t she clearly see why it was a big deal?

“I guess…” Y/n looked over at Wanda once more. Her smile was radiant even if she was a little far away. And the way her body tilts back every time she laughs, Y/n could have sworn that she could hear it from her spot. Or maybe it was the way her mind remembered everything about Wanda.

“It just made me think what if we were actually friends rather than…this.” Natasha could easily see this was a big deal to Y/n. However, their whole situation was rather odd. The banter and competition was just a children's game to her. No harm really came out of it.

“Well I think there’s still time to make up. Why don’t you go over there and just try to talk to her?” Y/n scoffed at Natasha’s absurdity.

“Yeah - over my dead body.”

“We’re partners.” Y/n wasn’t dead but it certainly almost felt like she was as she choked on Wanda’s comment. Quickly gaining the attention of other classmates, Y/n waved them off and regained her composure. She wiped the water from her lips and stared at the piece of paper that Wanda shoved in her face.

Team 7 - Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff

“I told the professor that you and I could easily do this project alone, but he wasn’t having it. Apparently we need to improve our teamwork skills.” Y/n looked up and easily saw how displeased Wanda was. Using all her acting skills, Y/n did the same.

Before Y/n could say anything, Wanda commented, “Just come over to my dorm after math club. It’s at Bourbon Hall. Dorm 321.” And just like that, Y/n easily forgot all about her kindness as Wanda walked away.

The day was almost over. All Y/n had to do was enjoy another meeting at math club, be civil with Wanda, and then go to sleep. Although she didn’t necessarily want to do it in that order, duty called.

Y/n was about to enter the room for math club until Lily stumbled in front of her with urgent eyes. “Hey Y/n, Dean Holloway wants to see you.”

“Do you know why?” The Dean never had random meetings with students. Generally, students would pop up to him with issues. Not the other way around.

Lily shook her head no with a small frown. “Sorry, he didn’t say.” Looking over the math club, Y/n could see that Wanda had already arrived. There was never an instance where Y/n wasn’t at a meeting, but knowing Wanda, she could handle it like a pro.

“Okay, can you tell Wanda that I’ll be late and to start off without me?” Y/n adjusted her backpack.

“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.” Y/n gave Lily a small smile before walking away.

Their banter was supposed to be a children's game, simple, harmless. Nothing was supposed to come out of it. But the look in Y/n’s eyes told a different story. Her thoughts flooded with insecurities as the conversation she had with the Dean replayed.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice Y/n. I wanted to see you before your current meeting with math club.”

Y/n hadn’t gone back to attend math club. It meant seeing Wanda, the very last person she wanted to see at all. She knew that the brunette would already be pissed at her being late, but it was better to avoid that conversation entirely.

“I’m going to cut to the chase since you’re a very busy student. By the board, new requirements have been added to your scholarship effective immediately.”

“What are they?” There was no letter or notice coming from the school about her scholarship so this must have been a very recent decision. The Dean was unable to look Y/n in the eye as he recalled the meeting. He looked stiff and strained, something that was easy to notice.

“For the upcoming math club state competition, the school is requiring that you and your group must achieve first place. There is no tolerance for anything less than that.”

Y/n could remember the silence being deafening. She didn’t know what to say. The whole reason she was even at Evergreen University was due to her full ride. And for the board to randomly put that on the line felt so targeted.

Y/n tried to beg for an explanation as to why the board decided this. Wasn’t she a great enough student? Regardless, Dean Holloway was useless. He couldn’t give her a single reason as to why they decided to implement this. Essentially making Y/n deal with it herself.

For a minute, Y/n allowed herself to dream about first place. It felt plausible, but as her phone buzzed in her bed, reality came back. Right on the screen it said Wanda Maximoff. Not wanting to speak, Y/n let the phone ring until it hit voicemail. Before she could have her moment of peace, a harsh set of knocks were at her door.

Figuring it was Natasha forgetting her key again, Y/n slowly got up. “Coming - coming.” Not bothering to check the peephole, Y/n opened the door, her eyes landed on her.

The girl who knew every answer to every question. The girl who hasn’t left Y/n’s mind since freshman year. The girl who was the reason she was second.

“Not going to the meeting is one thing, but ditching our plans is another.” Wanda passed Y/n up, allowing herself to enter without permission. She sat down at Y/n’s desk, immediately spouting out ideas about their project.

But as Y/n stared at Wanda, she couldn’t help but think, ‘You’re the reason I will never be first.’

And that made it real. It was no longer a children’s game. This was a competition. And Wanda Maximoff was going to have to lose.

Chapter 2

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #My Rival #Rivals to Lovers #college au wanda maximoff #College AU #college!wanda maximoff #marvel #mionemymind #academic rivals

682 notes · View notes

bumpkinspice0 · 3 months ago

Text

No One Knows the Trouble, Honey, That We've Been Through 1/3

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You're an X-Man... well, you used to be. You left years ago, and in the aftermath of an attack on X-Mansion, Charles has asked you back to help repair the damage to the estate. An easy job for an earthmover like yourself. Still, after years away from your old home, you feel like a stranger again. So much has changed and you're not sure where you fit in anymore. The newest X-Men member isn't helping your mood either. You're not sure where they found Logan, and you're still trying to figure out what to think of him. The mans barely said anything to you. He's not the typical stray Charles would take in, but then again, neither were you when he brought you here.

AN: Like everyone else, my Wolverine obsession has also re-awoken. So I made a quick little 3 part fic to cope with it. Let's see if I can rest now This leans into the movie-verse of the x-men (He's tall because Hugh Jackman is tall lol) but I think I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine it in whatever version of the x-men you like best. Warnings: Emotional baggage, fluff, angst, self-doubt, anger issues?, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, Logan is drunk babysitter, this is a little corny but I don't care, eventual smut

Series Masterlist

Part 2. Part 3

AO3 if you prefer to read there

_______

Stepping on the soil of the Xavier estate felt odd in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like standing on hallowed ground you’re unworthy of being on. Funny, years ago you only knew it as home. Now you’re just a stranger to the rocks beneath your feet. Still, Charles asked you back. He asked for your help.

The grounds around X-Mansion were unrecognizable.

They were decimated in this latest attack. Storm assured you all the children got out safely, thank god. The estate took all the damage. The house had been rebuilt but the surrounding lands were… rough. Ripped-up roots and protruding rocks where gardens and trees once stood. The walls of the mansion were now bare of its usual sprawling ivy, freshly reconstructed for probably the dozenth time in its life— another failed attack from another ignorant enemy.

You look at the destroyed earth around you, the real reason you were here. This is why he called you.

Soil, dirt, and rocks were where your powers lie. You could move the earth itself, sense the minerals beneath your feet, see the world around you through the touch of stone. Dozer your friends called you when you first came here— short for Bulldozer . You always hated it but it’s unfortunately the name that stuck. Now it’s just… part of you.

You weren’t the best student. You were angry when you came here at the ripe age of 13 after a rather unconventional childhood. Things were done to you you could never forgive. In a lot of ways, you were still angry. Used by the people you should have trusted most. Seen as less than human. A tool. A mutant.

And that’s when Charles found you.

The Professor took you in when he had no obligation to— and you fought every step of the way. You realize now it was your fear acting out rather than anger. Still, you were an X-Man… for a while. You thought you found your place. It was a good few years but you wanted more. You wanted to prove the world wrong. Be more than just a mutant. People always say a life well lived is always the best revenge. That’s what you wanted, a good life you forged for yourself despite the world's hatred towards you— and you left the X-Men behind to do it.

Once an x-man, always an x-man, Charles told you the day you left. Maybe some part of that was true, but you didn’t feel like an X-man anymore. It was your own fault, really.

Months and years rolled on and picking up the phone just got harder and harder. Dropping by to say hello started feeling intrusive. And eventually, it just became easier to do nothing at all.

You stopped trying, but so did they.

No, that’s not true. Jean tried. Storm tried. A letter or two every year. Missed calls that never got returned. You don’t know why you did it… or didn’t do it. Maybe you thought it would hurt less if you just tried to close the book on that chapter of your life. Be a new person. Something without the X-Men. They didn’t need you anyway.

Really, it was probably that same fear from your teen years rearing its ugly head. Still that afraid, angry little girl.

But Charles called, and you answered, and now you’re here. You’re here to help them get back up.

You became a landscaper when you went off to make a name for yourself. Dirt was all you understood, as sad as that sounds. Still, it was work that made you happy. Funny how you left because you didn’t want your mutation to define you.

Charles treated it professionally like any other client would. The man didn’t expect charity and agreed to your usual fee plus an extra 50% to redo the escape tunnels under the mansion.

I can’t pick my home up and move it, but I do my best to keep people guessing about its secrets, was Charles's reasoning.

It was a big job. It would take you 2 weeks at least. Hopefully finishing up just in time for the returning students. You’d already been here 3 days and the emotional exhaustion was getting to you more than anything.

There was no ‘bad blood’ here. You were welcomed back with a chorus of cheers and endless hugs. It was… nice. Really nice. You did miss it here, you missed your old friends. Still, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disassociation stirring in your stomach. Yes, this was your home— your friends— but you’d alienated yourself. They’ve been nothing but kind to you and you still feel like a stranger because you left. You left and stopped trying and you’re refusing to try even now.

Why was this all so scary?

You're reshaping the east garden beds when you feel eyes on you for the dozenth time today. You turn to see him standing there on the 4th-floor balcony, overlooking the decimated gardens.

Logan .

You only met him a few days ago. The newest member of the X-Men. The Wolverine. You’d heard rumors about him before. Tales of the rage, someone more animal than man. You’re amazed Charles took in someone like him, but then again he took you in too.

You’d said less than 3 words to each other since you returned. When Scott introduced you he only gave a curt nod and lurked back into whatever corner he was occupying.

You noticed he liked to stay on the sidelines. Silently occupy space without participating. He was always there when you turned around— like a shadow. He liked watching you work, you think. You could sense him lingering outside of the tunnel entrance you started in the basement the other day. This is the 4th time you’ve caught him lingering today.

You give him a casual flip of the bird. He retreats back inside as soon as your eyes connect with his.

Fucking creep.

“Dozer!” Storm’s voice pulls you from your unplanned staring contest.

She and Jean step down into the rocky pit that was slowly starting to resemble a 3 tiered garden. You’d been working on the tunnels below the house since you got here, this was your first day outside. Even an Earthmover needed sunlight every once in a while. You couldn’t punch out your slew of confusing feelings in a dark hole in the ground forever.

Of course they’d ambush you as soon as you stepped outside.

“We have a surprise for you,” Jean announces proudly.

“What— Why?” is all you manage to say.

Idiot.

“What do you mean why?” Storm doesn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and march you out of your pit. “Come on, it’s up at the garage.”

You let them drag you there, reminding yourself that these are your friends. The ones that kept trying to let you in and you’ve been an elusive bitch to since you got here.

Try. Just try a little. They want you here. They do.

You’re guided, presumably to the garage, by Storm while Jean diligently holds her hands in front of your eyes.

“Please tell me it’s a new car,” You joke trying to lighten the mood. “My truck’s getting old.”

“Pfft, we don’t have that much money,” Jean nudges you slightly before you all come to a halt. She removes her hands.

It’s not a car. It’s flowers.

They’re absolutely beautiful. Hundreds of them in nursery trays laid out in front of the garage doors. Young blossoms but still vibrant with rainbows of color.

Despite your connection with the Earth you never had power over plants, but felt a kinship with them in a way. Both beings that thrived in the dirt was your best guess as to why. You could sense them, feel them in your own way. Your dorm was a practical jungle when you lived here. Hell, your apartment today still was.

A closer glance at the small garden reveals something more.

“It’s all your favorites,” Storm confirms, reaching down between the rows, “The ones we could remember at least. You had so many.”

She pulls out a bouquet, a small collection of the surrounding flowers. They must have made it themselves. Ororo hands it to you, her smile warm but her eyes sad in a way.

“Guys, I…” you choke out, pushing back the stinging tears.

“Your thoughts are very loud,” Jean strokes your shoulder, “The gardens are yours. A reflection of you… for the rest of us. This is your home, you get to leave your mark on it.”

“We’re happy you’re back,” Storm joins Jean in front of you, “We’re happy you're home.”

Wordlessly, you collapse into the two of them. You’d make an ass out of yourself if you tried to talk right now anyway.

Of course Jean knew how you were feeling. Of course Storm probably had the idea for this corny grand gesture. Of course, they missed you. They’re your oldest friends. Your sisters.

You’re home. This is okay. It’s all going to be okay.

__________

The sun has nearly set when you hear the garage door open from a distance, a fight echoing from inside.

“Logan, be reasonable!” You recognize Scott’s aggravated voice.

“You’re a goddamn coward,” the wolverine growls back. Jean informed you this is a regular occurrence between the two of them. You’re not surprised. Logan seemed difficult, to say the least.

You’re halfway up to the garage before you realize what you’re doing. What are you doing? Are you really going to try to break up a flight or just get a better spot for eavesdropping? There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine before you have time to decide.

“ Logan! ” Scott shouts one last time before Logan peels out of the garage— right through the rows of your flowers that rested there.

“HEY!” you shout after him. It’s no use, of course. He doesn’t bother to stop, already past the front gate by the time you reach the driveway.

Scotts stands there alone at the edge of the garage, his hand on his visor… contemplating.

“You’d have one witness if you're thinking about murder,” you make your presence known as you crouch down amongst the now mangled corpses of your garden.

Asshole.

“Shit,” Scott's posture drops, almost embarrassed. His demeanor had changed so much from that young man you knew. The leader of the X-Men, he took himself so seriously now. It was cute in a way only Scott Summers could pull off.

“What an asshole,” you rescue a box of untouched daisies. At least some of it was salvageable.

“You have no idea,” Scott joins you, finding what flowers could be saved, “I’m sorry. He’s… difficult.”

“What were you fighting about?” you dare to ask, more to distract yourself than anything.

Scott hesitates before he answers.

“We were attacked by an offshoot of the Trask Institute. Extremists we didn’t even know existed. They came out of nowhere, and they’re still out there,” You see him scowl, silently scolding himself for not knowing more as a leader. He’d do the same thing in training.

The person who always put the most pressure on Scott was never The Professor. It was just Scott.

“Anyway,” he continues, “We don’t have an exact location, but Logan wants to hunt them down. Take ‘em out at the source, ya know?”

“And you don’t wanna do that?”

“We’ve taken enough hits right now.” He adds a bushel of ivy to your pile, “Best to wait until we have our feet back under us… or if they provoke us again.”

“Wouldn’t be good to be caught with your pants down again, though.” It’s not your place to question him anymore, but you do it anyway.

“We’re monitoring them. They’re not a treat right now,” he lets out a deep sigh, shoulders dropping, “But that’s not good enough for Logan. He doesn’t plan. Just wants to go in guns blazing.”

“Ah, wild-west style.”

“Like I said… he’s difficult .”

“That seems like a nice way of saying an absolute dick .” you attempt to lighten the mood and simultaneously quell the anger stirring in your stomach. He’d ruined your gift, your welcome home present— and he probably didn’t even notice.

“He is a dick. A big one,” Scott scoffs, gaze lingering over the vegetative carnage, “I’m sorry he did this because of me…”

“Acts of random dickishness are not your fault, Summers.”

Scott actually smiles at that one.

“Did you like it at least? The flowers? The girls were so excited about it. We all wanted you to… never mind. You– you get it.”

You look at the mismatched rescues you’ve already gathered in your hands. Thank god you still had the bouquet in your room at least.

“Yeah, Scott. I loved them.”

He gives a reassuring nod. Scott wasn’t much for words. That’s okay, you didn’t expect him to be. Yes, he’s the leader but there’s still so much of that quiet boy you see in him.

“Logan will probably be gone for the night. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I’ll fix this, Doze.” Scott assures you, that leadership role dropping so easily into place. Charles made the right choice with him.

“That’s okay, Scott. I’ll take care of it myself.”

__________

Scott was right, Logan doesn’t come back until the following afternoon. You’re on the mansion's north side with Charles, showing him your layout plans, when you hear the roar of that stupid bike again.

“Sorry, Charles,” you quickly step away from your old mentor, “I have to handle something.”

“I hope you won’t be ruining my grounds even further while you handle this,” Charles tuts disapprovingly, completely aware of Logan’s transgressions from the previous night. Being psychic, he was no doubt also completely aware of just how angry you were. Jean did say your thoughts are loud after all. Still, he lets you go without another word.

This guy had been nothing but a creep to you since you got here, stacking more anxiety on top of your already overflowing insecurities. Strutting around like he owned the place. Looking at you like a piece of meat. You’d seen too many men like him in your life. He needs to be knocked down a peg.

“Hey!” You have his attention as soon as he kills the engine. He rolls his eyes as he lazily tilts his head in your direction.

“What, sweetheart?” his face is painted over with an arrogance that was just begging to be slapped off.

You’ll happily oblige.

Kicking your heel into the dirt you send a wave through the ground. A small pillar of rock shoots up under the bike. It falls under the sudden jolt, and so does Logan along with it. The shock on his face was already worth it.

“What the hell?!” He sneers as he crawls out from under the bike.

“Why don’t you watch where you're driving next time, asshole,” You dare to take a step forward. He scrambles to his feet, a metallic ring following the movements.

Ah, there they are— the infamous metal claws. Now these you’ve heard stories about.

“That is quite enough,” Charles rolls up behind you, “I will not have this boorish display of dominance on my property.”

To his credit, Logan is the first one to drop his defenses. He sheaths his claws with an irritated shrug.

“Don’t know what the hell I did for any of this crap,” He practically mumbles. You resist the urge to throw a pebble at his head.

“You wrecked my garden!” You can practically feel the ground vibrating in your anger.

Logan looks down at his feet, remnants of the flora he’d unknowingly destroyed still scattered across the dirt.

“Hell of a place for a garden, toots,” he scoffs, kicking at the now withered flowers, “What you want an apology, then?”

You kick another small wave towards him. He catches himself on the shaking ground this time, only giving a scowl your way.

“Enough!” Charles comes between you. “If you insist on behaving like children, then you will be treated like children.”

“He started it!” against your better judgment you mockingly point a finger at Logan. Charles only offers a disappointed shake of the head.

Once a student, always a student.

Charles addresses you first, “You have my permission to use school funds to purchase more garden supplies, and I apologize on behalf of my newest pupil since he seems to be incapable of doing it himself. They were a gift after all,” he turns to Logan, “And you will take her to get them.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

Both you and Logan protest at the same time.

“If you insist on protesting then I’d like to remind you I can always make��you do it in different ways,” It’s an empty threat, of course. One of his favorite tactics to use. You remember him making the same kind to you when you were a student. He sighs before making his way back inside the mansion, “I will not have more petty rivalries in this house at a time like this. See it done… Today.”

You’re left alone together, both staring down at your feet like scolded children. Well into your adulthood you’re still finding ways to disappoint Charles Xavier. You’re ashamed you let your anger get the better of you again. You thought you were past this. Better than this.

Logan may have been an ass, but he was an X-man too. A friend of your friends. You didn’t even give him a chance to fix this before you came barreling in fists first. Still, you don’t really regret it either…

Fine.

With a deep sigh, you’re the first to concede.

“I have a truck.”

Logan hesitates for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.

“I’ll drive.”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

The drive to the Westchester Greenhouse was tense and completely silent. Now he’s following three paces behind you like a giant angry shadow. The sweet grandmas perusing the hydrangeas take one look at him looming behind you and change rows. It’s hilarious if you're being honest. You’d cooled down over the drive, you’re not entirely sure he has. Every step he takes is tense, you can feel it through the damp concrete floor.

You wonder if he’s aware of how intimidating he is. He has to be. That or he truly didn’t care. From what little you knew about this man it’s probably a bit of both.

“I don’t get why we’re here,” his gruff voice surprises you, “Can’t you just… grow more?”

“I can’t grow things,” you respond, placing a tray of tiger lilies in your cart, “Just move dirt.”

He hums and looks away in response. This was getting painful. If Charles insisted on sending you both out on this stupid little team-building exercise then you might as well try a little… for Charles.

“I can’t grow plants but I can… feel them.” You continue.

To your surprise, he actually responds. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maybe ‘ I can kinda talk to pants’ isn’t the best icebreaker topic but it’s a start. You look around rows of greenery, your attention landing on a crudely drawn sign that reads ‘ Man-Eating Plants. ’ Perfect. Most basic nurseries never knew how to take care of carnivorous plants properly.

“Here I’ll show you,” you walk over to the small section of venus fly traps. Your suspicions were correct. Brown-tipped leaves and shriveled black heads could be spotted on nearly every plant. They’d repotted them in all-purpose soil without a second thought.

“Don’t tell me you can talk to them.” Logan comes to stand next to you.

“No, nothing like that. But look,” you point at the crisping leaves of one plant. “They’re over-fertilized. They get their nutrients from bugs, not the soil. They’re roots don’t like what’s in the dirt and I can… feel that. So then I talk to the dirt.”

Logan raises an amused brow. You’re not entirely sure if it’s mocking or genuinely curious.

“So whaddya do ‘bout that?” he probes.

Curious it is. You take a quick glance around, making sure no one is close enough to see. Thankfully the massive scary man at your side and some towering majesty palms are enough cover for you.

“We take out what they don’t like in the soil. And what’s soil and fertilizer but some specific minerals.”

You’d first gotten the idea when you’d heard Magneto could rip iron directly out of people's blood. If his powers could be so precise, why not yours? It took years to master. You practiced by dumping table salt on the yard and trying to only summon the granules to your hands.

Same concept here.

You hold your hand over the small carnivorous beasts, feeling the small pellets of fertilizer mixed into their soil. You can feel the specific minerals and separate them out. Steadily, tiny pellets hovered out of each pot in neat rows and gathered above your hand. Once gathered you clench your open palm into a fist, the pellets gathering into one solid rock the size of a golf ball.

“There,” the mineral-dense rock drops into your hand, “Come back in a month and I guarantee these guys will be doing better.”

“Oh, I’m never coming back here,” despite the bitterness of his words, Logan says them with a smile. He’s teasing you.

“Well then,” you turn to him and place the rock in his jacket’s breast pocket, “There, a little souvenir to remember your forced trip to the greenhouse for being a jerk.”

You’re walking back to the cart before he has a chance to respond. The air feels lighter between the two of you now. You don’t like that you had to be the bigger person when he’s clearly been the one in the wrong but… it’s something, you guess.

Your little demonstration reminds you that you need better-treated soil if you’re going to make these gardens work. The ground around the mansion was fine but they needed something ritcher to give the plants a good head start. You could mix the soil yourself from around the area but it was infinitely easier to get already prepared bags of it here. Just a few for the topsoil should be fine. Charles said this was all on him, after all.

You stop in front of the stacked bags of various soil mixes. You reach for the general outdoor plant mix. Logan’s hand beats yours to the fuschia pink labeled bag, pulling it off the stack and tossing it over his shoulder.

“How many?” he asks, emotionless.

“Uh… let’s start with five?”

He grabs two more and effortlessly stacks them on his shoulder. He holds the other two in his free hand. He stands there holding over a hundred pounds of dirt like it’s nothing.

“Okay, what next?”

The sun is starting to set when you make your way back to the manor. The air between the two of you is decidedly less tense but it’s still painfully silent. There was… progress made. You didn’t hate him anymore and hopefully he would treat your property with more care from now on. He tried, in the only way stoic men like him can. Not with words, but with small actions. Carrying bags of dirt for hours, shooing you away from loading the truck and doing it all himself, opening the car door for you. For some reason actually saying ‘sorry’ was always so much harder than just showing you he was sorry.

You got it. Your father and brothers were the same. You wonder if he was a military man too.

That doesn’t change the fact that you hadn’t apologized either. Yes, he’d wrong you first, but you provoked him without warning. Actions instead of just talking like an adult. Yeah, actions were always easy for people like you.

And in your own fucked up little way, you’d made him the subject of your anxieties. He was new here, you’d made yourself an outcast. They all clearly adored him despite his rugged nature. Charles so clearly wanted to help this man who was too skittish to be helped. It reminded you of someone else…

You could extend the metaphorical olive branch. Offer something that resembled friendship. That’s why Charles sent you out here, but you’re going to do it your own way.

Somewhere that holds a lot of memories is coming up on the right, and you could use a drink. The sudden turn off the road jolts Logan from his empty gazing out the window.

“Jesus Christ, woman!” He reaches for the center console, shooting you a glare. You hold back a smile, “This isn’t the way back to the school.”

“We’re not going back to the school,” You pull into an all too familiar parking lot, a red neon sign already lit up reading ‘Stevie’s Bar ‘n’ Grill’ illuminates the windshield. You’d snuck over here at least a dozen times when you were in school.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“What?” He smirks with a raise of the eyebrow. He does that a lot, you've noticed.

“Look, I—” You take a breath and shift the car into park. You can do this, it’s just words, “I wasn’t fair. You did a shitty thing, yeah, but you didn’t know. And I came at you with no explanation.”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs jokingly, trying to lighten the mood you’ve suddenly soured. It works. You smile.

“It’s… weird. Being back,” you’re grip on the wheel tightens ever so slightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but it’s weird coming back to a place you called home and feeling like a stranger. Despite everything your friends are saying, you just feel wrong there. I tried to take my insecurities out on you Logan. I’m sorry.”

The bloated silence that settles between the two of you doesn’t help, but you can’t blame him. What was he supposed to say after you just bared part of your soul? You’re not expecting an apology but it hurts a little when he hops out of the truck. You’re about to yell after him when he rounds the front and comes to your door. He opens it and leans in closer than you’d like.

“How about I buy you a drink then?” There’s that stupid smirk of his again, “You said it yourself, I did a shitty thing. You drug me out here to clean up my mess, wrecked your little welcome home present Jean wouldn’t shut up about. I owe you a drink, toots.”

He leans in a little closer. You can smell the cigar smoke on him, probably embedded into his clothes at this point. It’s not an apology. Not really.

It’s an olive branch.

__________

It’s exactly the same. Old country on the jukebox, dirty floors, old tattooed lady bartenders that wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they tried something. Funny how little hole-in-the-wall places like this never change. You’re grateful for it.

You and Logan huddled into the farthest booth in the corner away from the commotion. His beer’s already half gone by the time you’re on your second sip. Somehow you’re not surprised.

“How the hell did Charles get stuck with you?” You laugh as he wipes away the suds from his stubble.

“Funny, I could ask you the same.”

You playfully kick him under the table and he thankfully laughs it off. He had a nice smile… you suppose.

“He drug me in kicking and screaming,” You take another sip, glancing at the kitchen door in hopes the fries you ordered were coming. Logan leans forward, waiting for you to continue. “I… ran away from my birth family. Was on the streets for probably six months before he found me. I was thirteen.”

“That’s the most boring way to tell a probably good story I’ve ever heard,” He says before taking another gulp.

“Oh, please tell me your life story then, Mr. Wolverine.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, we’d be here a while, Darlin’.”

Well… if he was asking about you.

“I was born in Guam… I think. We moved almost every year. Mom died before I even had memories. Was brought up by a Colonel in the army and two brothers.”

“Military brat. Should have guessed.” You kick him under the table again, “Explains the temper too I guess.”

“Well, a military upbringing with a bunch of boys’ll do that.”

When was the last time you told someone about your life? And why was it so easy to tell him? He holds your gaze for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat.

“Why’d you run away then?” He asks.

“Oh, you’re gonna need a lot more alcohol in me for that, fella.” you skillfully evade the question. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to tell him everything .

“That can be arranged,” waves at the waitress, signaling for another round. You look at his practically empty mug and you're still practically full one— and still no fries. God help you.

“Your turn,” you prompt him, “Tell me something about you.”

His posture tenses.

“Not much to tell, sweetheart.”

“Where were you born?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Okay, where’d you grow up?”

“Same answer.”

“Did you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, “Like I said, it’s a long story�� but I’m missing a lot of details. It’s not worth listening to, I promise.”

You suddenly feel bad for snooping so much. He had a boundary, and that was fine. Just because you were so keen on sharing doesn’t mean he has to be.

The waitress delivers your next round along with a greasy basket of fries. Logan is the first to reach for one.

“You said Chuck drug you in kicking and screaming?” His eyes soften again, “I guess he did with me too.”

He’s trying to be friendly. Trying to be a little gentler.

“Oh?” you gently prod him to continue.

“I’m not…” he runs his hand through his pointed hair, “I wasn’t a good man… the parts I can remember. And Chuck gave me a chance. I don’t like it all the time… bein’ somewhere I don’t belong. I run. It’s what I do. But they keep havin’ me back. So… I get it.”

You suspect he hasn’t told anyone this, but he’s saying it to you. He chose you to trust for some reason. Your heart clenches.

You thumb at the handle of your still mostly full beer next to another waiting one, unsure of how to continue. You both started with the heavy shit, so there was only one way to go now. You came here to clear the air… but you also came here to drink. You take the mug and raise it to Logan.

“To the class fuck ups then.”

__________

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to buy you six drinks on a practically empty stomach. To be fair, you didn’t admit that you’d skipped lunch until drink four and by then the fries were gone and the kitchen was closed. Half a basket of fries wasn't a good substitute dinner, it turns out. Not so much a lightweight as just an idiot, but everyone’s a lightweight compared to Logan. Perk of a healing factor is he can sober up pretty damn quick when he needs to. Practically had to wrestle the keys out of your hands while you were stumbling your way back to the truck.

Cute how you thought you could put up a fight. He carried you the rest of the way to the truck, you giggling the whole way. Funny how he didn’t really mind either.

So used to drinking alone, he’d forgotten what it was like to do it with someone else. All the comradery that came with it and a few sloppy games of pool too. Kurt wasn’t much for booze, unfortunately. Hank, Jean, and Storm were always too damn busy to relax, and Scott… like hell he’d have a drink with Scott.

But this was all your idea. You brought him to a shitty bar, shared a little bit yourself with him and now he was driving you home while you poorly slurred along with whatever was playing on the radio.

And he didn’t mind one bit.

He didn’t know what to make of you when you first came. They all talked about you with such admiration whenever your name came up… which was all the damn time. You were quiet, skittish almost. Kept your nose down and got to work immediately.

He recognized what you were doing right away.

Logan understood what it was like to be part of something and feel like a stranger. Hell, that’s all he’d ever been. Just someone passing through until the X-Men. He’s still learning how to do it. Be part of something. He meant it when he said he wasn’t a good man, but he’s a better man than he was. He wouldn’t have that without Charles.

And here you come, someone who had it all and left it behind just to try to be normal out in the world. The one thing people like you could never be. Yeah, he really got it.

You admitted you were an angry kid in your drunken ramblings. He has a hard time picturing you that way— a little rebel. You shied away from talking more about personal things. Your family and whatever the hell else that past life entailed. He didn’t pry, didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than he already had. Instead, the conversation drifted into one of those that’s about everything and nothing at all. Just sharing drinks with a friend kind of conversation.

He liked it… having someone to talk to.

You’re finishing up belting Bohemian Raposesty when he finally pulls into the driveway of the mansion.

“Shows over, rockstar,” he announces as he kills the engine.

“Boooo!” You weakly protest as soon as the radio dies, “Killjoy!”

“That’s me,” he grumbles, getting out and walking over to your door. You slump out of the seat as soon as he opens it, “Come on, princess.”

You’re slumped over, curled up into the flannel he offered as a blanket. He pulls you into his arms, deciding it’d be easier to just carry you straight to bed rather than herd you up the steps. God he hopes everyone’s gone to bed by now, otherwise he’s probably going to get an earful for getting their precious darling drunk.

“You’re like the firemen… in those calendars…” you slur as he pushes through the front door, “Or a lumberjack. With those chops, you have to be a lumberjack.”

He holds back a laugh at your girlish ramblings. To his relief, no one is in the foyer. He quickly hikes up the stairs, squirming drunk girl in hand. You were already dozing off by the time he reached the top of the stairs.

Thank god.

“Whoa, deja vu,” you rub your hands down your face, “I feel like 'm 16 again. We did this all the time back ‘n the day.”

“Yeah? Who carried you to bed then?” your door is in sight.

“The Professor.” you jokingly wheeze out without hesitation. “Guy loves his brandy.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Logan scoots past your door, careful of your head. He lays you down on the bed gently, you don’t protest. He carefully unlaces your shoes while you squirm into the covers.

“Y’know, yer nicer than I thought you’d be.” You can’t even keep your eyes open now.

“That right?” Logan smiles to himself as he pulls one sneaker off.

“Mmhmm,” you nod, nuzzling your head into the pillow, “Funny, I thought the Wolverine would be so scary.”

He cringes a little at your words. He won’t hold them against you, not in this state.

“I’m very scary.”

You blow a raspberry before continuing, “No yer not! You're just a guy. A hunky, lumberjack guy who hates flowers.”

“I don’t hate flowers.”

“Right… just my flowers.”

“Yeah, just your flowers,” he pulls off the other shoe. Your feet immediately shoot up into the covers. He smooths a comforting hand over your hip. It makes him happier than it should when you don’t flinch away.

“You need anything else, darlin’?”

“Stop doin’ that,” You groan into the pillow.

“Stop what?”

“Makin’ me blush with your dumb pet names.” You admit, “Stop it.”

He smiles to himself, a familiar warm feeling rising in his stomach. He’ll leave you be for tonight. Best to wait until you're sober to ask what you mean by that anyway, if only to watch you blush a little more.

“I’ll leave you be then,” he almost feels regret when he stands off of the bed. Almost. You were drunk. Tired. There was nothing more to be said tonight.

He drags your empty trash can over to the side of the bed, just in case, and fills a glass of water for you too.

“I had fun tonight,” He says before walking towards the door. Your voice makes him pause.

“Logan?” you call out like a scolded child.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually hate my flowers, do you?”

“No, darlin’. I don’t hate your flowers.”

He makes sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him.

__________

#logan howlett #logan howlet x reader #wolverine x reader #logan james howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine fanfiction #x men #fanfic #wolverine smut

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sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy · 2 months ago

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The Human Bit the Werewolf?

Chapter 1: The Bite of 2013

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 2

Stiles chews on things almost compulsively, always has.

He has a binky as a toddler that had to be ripped away crying and screaming even though he'd chew through them. He chewed the lid to every sippy cup he had and the straw to every cup after.

It was funny at first, they'd call him a little chipmunk or a bunny. When it inevitably got annoying, people made thinnly veiled insults about being like a poorly trained doy or a goat.

As a kid, he chewed on the loose-hanging bit of his backpack straps. He was once gifted a cross necklace and he'd always put it in his mouth to fidget with until his dad took it away during church. He chewed on his erasers. When they were taken away, he'd chew on the metal bit of his pencils, and then he'd start chewing on the pencil itself when they took that. If they ever took his pencils, he'd start chewing on his nails or his shirt.

He still chews on his pencils. In fact, he tends to rip the clip off the mechanical ones to chew on them. He’d stick the jeep key in his mouth and rub it between his teeth. At least now, teachers don't freak out if he has gum.

It'd always been like that. Stiles didn’t really know why or what drove it, probably his ADHD since he's never had an original experience in his life(barring the supernatural). That was only half of it, though.

Then there was the biting. And, if Stiles had been a werewolf, things would have gone awry much sooner.

He often got the urge to bite things or people he cared for– after many hors of stressed googling, he figured out it was probably just a form of cuteness aggression his brain didn't properly filter. That said, he used to regularly bite his parents and Scott when he was little, before he was taught not to.

Then he started dating Malia and it got worse. He stuffed the urge down for a while, chewing his pen or nails instead.

The first time he did bite her– it was more of a nip really– it was done playfully when they were talking and joking after having sex. He really thought he’d fucked up when she pinned him against the bed on reflex. Then she told him to do it again.

She'd tell him to bite her while they had sex so he, of course, thought it was a kink thing. When Malia would catch him staring at her and chewing on his pens, she'd glare at him. Apparently, she got annoyed with him and, in a very Malia way of dealing with things, pinned him down against his bed and interrogated him about it.

"Why do you only bite me when we have sex?"

"Wha—"

"I know you want to do it more often, so why don't you," she asked, glaring down at Stiles.

"You want me to bite you more," Stiles asked, shear confusion in his voice.

"Obviously, dumbass," Malia scoffed.

Stiles might he an idiot at times, but he's not too stupid to do what he's told, especially when it benefits him too. And, sure, it was weird the first few times he did it, but it also didn't at all. He’d occasionally just take Malia's hand in his and bring it to his mouth and nip at her fingers.

It was weirdly normal, an easy habit to fall into. The only thing that made it weird was when people stared at them for it, and Malia was quick to remedy that.

When they broke up, Stiles found himself back at square one, chewing his pencils and trying to ignore his brain. It mostly resulted in a lot of teeth grinding.

Stiles started to notice the need to chewnon something got worse around the pack. He tried to chalk it up to his subconscious reacting to Malia, which he knew was bull shit. He knew what it was, who it was.

When Derek would cross his arms and flex just perfect to frame the muscles in his arms and chest or when he'd use the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face, showing off his ab-muscles, or when he'd wipe blood off his face with the back of his hand, or raise his eyebrows at Stiles in annoyance, or– honestly– just exist in the mear vicinity of Stiles, it was like he teeth itched to bite him. Just a little nip, as a treat, ya know? Sometimes the irony of it would hit him, Stiles wanting to bite the werewolf when it should be the other way around. Then again, Stiles had rather regularly bitten Malia, the were-coyote while they dated.

Stiles had problems. Psychological problems.

One late night of blurry-eyed research, Derek snuck in through Stiles's open window and found him asleep at his desk with about a million b's typed into the search bar. He sighed to himself and tried to wake Stiles up. He at least wanted to get the idiot to sleep in bed rather than hunched over the desk.

"Stiles, wake up," Derek whispered, not wanted to alert sheriff of his presence.

Stiles hummed and looked at Derek tiredly.

"Come on, let's get you to bed,"Derek grumbled, lifting Stiles out of the chair so he was standing up even though Derek was supporting most of his weight.

"Thankks Der," Stiles mumbled, letting himself be guided to bed. "Ya know, you’re cute when your nice," he hummed, not fully grasping how much he'd regret it later.

Derek didn't say anything more, rather he tried to ignore the sleepy mumblings.

"So cute I could just..." Stiles clicked his teeth together in a mock bite.

In his tired state, he fully missed how Derek’s face turned red. He tossed the blankets aside and plopped Stiles down on the bed. He didn't stick around much longer, deciding he'd get the info he came for second-hand from Scott.

Stiles noticed how Derek was pointedly absent absent in the next few days. If he wanted information from Stiles, he'd ask Scott or one of the betas to ask. Stiles could text Derek about something and would be lucky to receive a one word text back.

He remembered Derek swinging by and talking some but not about what. He was sure his big mouth was ruining things again, just not how bad.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek started being willing– and able– to be around again. Still, the others ketp giving him weird looks. He also noticed that Derek would look away everytime Stiles looked at his, as if he’d been caught staring.

Of course, things couldn't possibly be normal for more than five minutes in Beacon Hills and especially not with their little group. Inevitable, things went to Hell.

Stiles couldn’t have even told you what it was they'd been fighting– some goat or bull creature with horns. He remembered the horns because he'd gotten the business end of them and a matching concussion. Really, all he remembered was sitting on the cold bathroom floor, watching Derek’s muscle move under his skin as he patched up Isaac or Scott, maybe Jackson.

That bitting itch– pun intended– grew in his head and Stiles just... leaned forward and bit Derek’s arm. His skin was salty with sweat and he could feel the hair against his skin.

He didn’t realize how quiet or still it had gotten when he leaned back. He didn't realize for a while.

"Stiles, did you just bite me," Derek asked as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He was caught between concern and confusion and arousal but was really trying to stick with concern.

"I did," Stiles asked back, surprised he'd acted on the thought. "Shit, sorry dude. I tend to— I don't know why... Fuck, my head hurts," he sighed, trying to form a coherent explanation.

Before Stiles could figure out how to put things into words, Scott was driving him to the hospital.

And, once again, Derek was avoiding him, only worse! Stiles couldn’t get an answer through text. Derek was never there whe the pack met up. When Stiles tried to stop by the loft to talk, Derek was never there. On top of which, Stiles swore he'd see Derek out of the corner of his eye but there was nobody there when he looked. He was genuinely starting to feel crazy.

He was sure he'd fucked up really bad when goddamn Peter showed up at the school to talk to him.

"Stiles, let's go for a walk," Peter said in his fake nice, higher than thou, tone.

"I’m not supposed to talk to creepy mass murders," Stiles said back, walking towards the jeep instead.

"Now, don't you want to know why my dear nephew has been avoiding you," Peter goaded and Stiles begrudgingly stopped walking. "I must say, you are a rather forward one. I didn’t expect it, though it seems quite obvious in hindsight," he mused.

Stiles shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"From what I understand, you bit my dear nephew without forewarning and in front of everyone. Might as well have stuck your hand in his pocket and kissed him as well," Peter teased.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, what the Hell are you talking about," Stiles asked, starting to get a little freaked out.

"What, do you not do that anymore," Peter asked rhetorically. "I always thought putting your hand in someone else's pocket was rather uncomfortable, but it was a blatant sign that you were together."

"God, I know what the pocket thing means," Stiles said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "But why are you bringing it up?"

"I know you're not a complete idiot. That's why you're not dead... Yet," Peter added. "You dated Malia so I'm sure you understand why biting Derek was such an ordeal."

"Not, I actually don't. Explaining things isn't exactly Malia's strong suit," Stiles shot back, internally kicking himself seconds after remembering Peter was Malia's birth father. "That didn't sound right. I—"

"Stop digging the hole now," Peter told him, holding a hand up. "Malia didn't tell you, and it was never anything you came across in your research?"

"Obviously not."

"Oh, dear boy," Peter said with a slimey smirk, "biting for us is the equivalent of announcing someone is your partner. However, I'm even more curious why you did it now..."

Stiles decided quickly he was not elaborating on the why. "So, I basically told everyone - including him - that Derek and I are dating, and he immediately had me swept off the ER and is now avoiding me? Nope, still weird," he said and walked off.

Peter, having not expected this turn of events and having no more cards to play, let him walk away. "Well, this will be interesting..."

#stiles chews on things as an adhd stim #this also happens to come with the need to bite things and people #i also have the random urge to bite people #it's a love bite #adhd love language if you will #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #teen wolf #scott mcall #malia tate #peter hale #incorrect teen wolf quotes #teen wolf fanfiction #sterek fanfiction #derek and stiles

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cosmiclily · 21 days ago

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.ᐟ chapter two: just doin’ to waste more time on the couch

wc: 1.7k

I had just gotten back from my evening class, exhausted, and as I walked into our apartment, the familiar sight of Vi greeted me. She was sprawled on the couch, her arms draped casually over the back, looking entirely too comfortable.

“Thought you’d be out by now,” I said, locking the door behind me and slipping off my shoes. “Didn’t you have a party or something?”

“Trying to get rid of me already?” she teased, stretching her arms above her head before sitting up straight, her eyes flickering back to her phone. “I was supposed to go to some girl’s house, but she canceled. Something about her parents being in town.”

“Who is the unfortunate soul of the week?” I ask lightly, masking the bitterness that threatened to creep into my voice. Like I wanted to know her latest fling, like knowing who she was fucking didn’t make me want throw myself off our balcony.

“Just some girl from one of my classes,” she said with a shrug. “She’s in a sorority. Was trying to get us into one of their parties.”

“Don’t use me as an excuse for your hookups,” I shot back as I headed into the kitchen. “You know I hate parties.” I opened the fridge, looking for something quick and easy to make. Today’s lecture had been brutal—our ancient professor talking on and on about the anatomy of the human brain in a voice so soft and slow it could have put a hyperactive toddler to sleep. “Do you want anything specific for dinner? I’m starving and just survived a lecture from hell.”

“I’m not using you as an excuse for my hookups,” Vi said, leaning her elbows on the counter, her grin wide and infuriating. “I just think you should live a little, you know? What are your college years for if not to get drunk and regret it later?”

I raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “You seriously think that’s a good argument?”

She laughed, the sound warm and effortless. “I’m just saying. You’re too uptight sometimes.” Her eyes softened a little. “But hey, if you’re tired, how about I cook?”

I blinked. “You? Cook? The person who once burnt noodles?”

Vi put a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “Hey! That was only one time! You have no faith in me.”

“None,” I deadpanned, though my lips quirked up in a small smile.

“Well, fine,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter. Her white tank top drawing attention to her toned biceps, and I could see the faint outline of her nipple piercings through the fabric. My stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. God, I hated her so much.

“How about this?” she said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “We order pizza. That way, no one has to suffer my cooking or your exhaustion.”

“Pizza sounds good,” I agreed.

Vi grabbed her phone and started scrolling. “Pepperoni and extra cheese, right? Or do you want to try something new?”

I glanced at her, my heart doing that stupid thing where it skipped a beat when she smiled. “Pepperoni’s fine” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

She placed the order, and as she leaned back against the counter again, I caught her watching me out of the corner of her eye. “You’re really not gonna come to a party with me, huh?”

I shook my head, smirking. “Probably not.”

Vi sighed dramatically. “One day, I’ll drag you out of this apartment and into the real world. Just you wait.”

“Good luck with that,” I said, rolling my eyes, though deep down, a small part of me wished I could be the person she thought I should be—the person who wasn’t terrified of being too close to her, of losing what little I had.

After the pizza arrived, we settled onto the couch and started watching a movie. As we ate, I couldn’t help but think about our sleepovers when we were younger. My mom would make popcorn and order pizza, and we’d wait for her to fall asleep so we could watch horror movies behind her back. We’d stay up until sunrise, too scared to sleep, even though Violet would never admit she was scared. She’d always say, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you if the demon from the movie comes after us,” as if her words could somehow make us invincible.

I smiled at the thought, the memory of us together on the couch, our eyes wide with fear but not daring to show it. Things had changed since then, but in some ways, they hadn’t. It was comforting, like we were still those two kids who shared everything.

Vi’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “I know you just said you wouldn’t go to a party with me, but there’s one tomorrow, and since you don’t like going out with me cause I “always leave you alone”, I invited Jinx and Ekko. I figured I’d make it a group thing. Besides, They can keep you company if you’re too miserable to have fun.”

I didn’t exactly hate going out with her. It wasn’t that. It was just... well, the thought of her hooking up with someone at a party, the thought of her being all over someone else while I watched from the sidelines, made my stomach turn. I knew she didn’t owe me anything, that she was free to do whatever she wanted, but that didn’t mean I had to subject myself to watching it. I’d rather avoid the heartache if I could.

I took a slow breath as i picked the crust from the discarded pizza box and said, “I don’t know, Vi. You know how I feel about those things.”

Vi rolled her eyes, clearly trying to be playful, but I could tell there was a hint of concern behind her teasing. “You act like I’m going to drag you into some wild hookup situation. It’s just a party. Come on, you need to have a little fun.”

I hesitated, the conflict swirling inside me. I didn’t want to go and watch her with someone else, but I didn’t want to say no either, not to her. Not when she was asking.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally said, hoping it was enough of an answer to let her drop the subject for the night.

She looked at me, her blue eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. “Fine, but you owe me.”

I laughed, but it felt a little hollow. “Yeah, sure. I’ll owe you one.”

As we settled in to watch one last movie, my mind kept drifting to the same thought over and over: how I was letting my feelings get in the way of living my life. I never regretted meeting Violet or becoming her friend, but I did regret being stupid enough to catch feelings for the only friend I had. Stupid enough to let those feelings dictate my actions, my choices, my entire life. The truth was, I was angry at myself. I’d never been a party girl or a social butterfly, and the idea of getting drunk and accidentally confessing my feelings to Vi—or doing something even worse—made my chest tighten with panic.

I glanced over at her, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to fade. She had drifted to sleep, her head resting against the armrest, her lips parted just slightly. I couldn’t help but observe her, taking in every little detail: the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, how they dotted her cheeks, the long lashes framing her closed eyes, the scar on her lip. I thought about how much I wanted to trace it with my finger, to just touch her and see if that would make the feelings go away. She looked so peaceful and delicate, the complete opposite of what she showed on a daily bases. It felt almost criminal how beautiful she was.

I shook my head at myself, letting out a quiet sigh. What is wrong with you?

I nudged her shoulder lightly. “Vi, wake up. You need to go to your bed,” I whispered, trying not to disturb her too much.

She groaned, her brows knitting together, the sleepiness evident on her face. “No, wanna sleep here…” she mumbled, tugging at my sleeve like a child reluctant to leave the warmth of comfort.

I sighed, trying to hold back a smile at how cute she looked. “You’ll have a backache tomorrow if you keep sleeping like that” I said softly.

“Worth it” she muttered, settling deeper into her position, clearly not planning on getting up anytime soon.

I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath, watching her stubbornly try to get more comfortable. Part of me just wanted to let her stay there, to keep her close, but I knew she needed to sleep properly if she wanted to avoid a sore back the next day.

“Come on, Vi,” I said gently, nudging her again. “If you go to sleep in your own bed, I’ll go to that party with you.”

That seemed to catch her attention. She opened one eye, peeking at me with suspicion. “Are you serious?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

I nodded reluctantly, unsure if I was making the right choice. She sat up slowly and raised her pinky towards me —just like we used to do when we were kids.

“Pinky promise?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yes, pinky promise,” I replied, matching the smile that had formed on her face as I interlocked our pinkies together.

“Okay, now I will go to sleep,” she said with a satisfied grin, as if she had won a battle, before stumbling off towards her room.

I watched her go, feeling a strange mix of relief and discomfort. I had agreed to go to the party with her, but now that it was settled, I couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

As I took my shower and settled into bed for the night, my mind wouldn’t stop racing. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything. “What am I doing with my life?” I asked myself, the question echoing in my head, unanswered.

Maybe going to the party wouldn’t be such a big deal. Maybe it would give me a chance to breathe, to live a little outside the confines of my own thoughts. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t that simple. It never was when it came to Vi.

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chapters

notes: i’ll probably take a while to update bc i only had these two chapters ready, but i’ll try my best to not take too long lol

what are your thoughts so far? do you think something will happen at the party? 🥸

#vi x reader #arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader #lily writes

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kamiversee · 11 months ago

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 21 || The After Hours

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, a tinge of angst, and sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"I DON'T UNDERSTAND," YOU murmured to the albino man whose arms you're comfortably carried in.

What the hell does he mean by when you call he comes running? You didn't call him... right? Wait, fuck, you don't even remember. Was it really Geto's voice you heard over the phone?

Gojo slowly walks with you in his grasp toward his car, "You called me... Well, I know you probably meant to call Suguru but uh, you called me, sweetheart." He explains.

A pouty expression takes over your features as you grumble out a response to him, "Why didn't you... s-say anything, asshole."

He shrugs, "Cause' Suguru's asleep and I didn't want his half-woken brain to come out here and get you, who's completely wasted. So, it's a good thing you accidentally called me anyway. Plus, I missed-," He stops as he looks at your face.

Your eyes closed and you'd fallen asleep again. Gojo opens his mouth to finish what he is saying but instead sighs and focuses his gaze on where he's walking.

Carefully, the male works his passenger car door open and places you inside. Gojo is overly cautious while he seats you comfortably. Your head had leaned into a visibly unbearable position and he had to be light with his touches to fix you properly.

The pads of his fingers are soft against your face and he's gentle with the way he handles your head. When he's done making sure you don't look uncomfortable and finishes buckling you in, his eyes pause on your pretty resting features.

Even though the beauty Gojo sees in your face, he can't help but notice the dried tear streaks running down your cheeks. He wonders when you cried and why. Was it because of him? Again? The thought alone makes his heart ache.

Gojo shuts his eyes and leans his forehead to yours, resting against you lightly, "I'm sorry..." He whispers to you, despite the fact that you're asleep.

After another second, Gojo removes himself from your space and shuts his car door softly. He then makes it into the driver's seat and he's quick to start his car and drive off.

The ride is slow and Gojo tries to make it as smooth as possible so that he doesn't wake you up. There were a few times when you moved and let out a little groan, each time prompting a concerned gaze from the man in the diver's seat.

Each minute that passes, Gojo spends it thinking about what you told him over the phone. He hates to see you struggling like this, wishing he could go back and maybe do something different but knowing the outcome would've been bad either way.

By the time he gets to your apartment, it's even later into the night and Gojo spends the entire time with you being as careful as possible. He knows you didn't want to see him but he needed to make sure you got home safely.

So, the man carried you all the way to your apartment door and even let himself inside. You found this out a while ago when you went through your messages but apparently, Shoko gave Gojo a spare key to the apartment.

You thought it was weird of your roommate to do so without talking to you about it but she eventually explained to you that she's asked Gojo to go to your apartment more times than she can count and it was frustrating giving him her keys every time.

That, and she secretly felt like him having access to the apartment would help the two of you get together. Of course, Shoko is still ignorant of what's going on between you and Gojo but neither of you has plans on changing that.

After all, her giving him spare keys is beneficial to you in a situation like this.

Gojo moves into your apartment with you in his arms, his footsteps quiet. When he entered, everything was dark and he noticed Shoko's room door was closed. He figured she was asleep since the space beneath her room door showed no signs of lighting and plus, it was pretty late.

You shift around in Gojo's arms while he carries you into your room. The male carefully placed you down on your bed and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable in your sleep but was nervous to do so.

Gojo drags his gaze up and down the obvious discomfort the dress you're wearing brings you and he so desperately wants to change you. With a sigh, he glances around your room, searching for a t-shirt he can toss over you but spotting none.

The man knows you probably won't like it but, he stands up and strips his upper half, removing the white sweater he was wearing and moving to put it onto your body, leaving him in a simple t-shirt he had underneath.

The sweater went over your dress after which, Gojo felt around your back, careful not to touch you directly, and unzipped your dress. He didn't want to lay eyes on your body while you were asleep so, the male worked your dress off you and down your legs with his sweater blocking his eyesight from seeing anything.

On you, his sweater went down to the beginning of your thighs, looking like a dress in itself on your smaller frame. Gojo had long since worked your heels off, having neatly placed them somewhere in your room and now he was trying to tuck you into your bed.

After that, he left your room for only a moment to grab medicine for the painful hangover he knows you're going to have when you wake up. Returning to you swiftly, he puts all the necessary items on your nightstand and sighs.

Soft snores left you, prompting his eyes to fall on your face for the millionth time that night. Gojo tilts his head as he looks at your face, taking in all of your features. He missed having the mere luxury of just looking at you.

You're so beautiful in his eyes that just staring at you makes him loathe himself for the terrible shit he's putting you through.

When the long moment of appreciation comes to an end, Gojo caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand as if to say bye, before leaning up and turning away.

What he doesn't expect is for a delicate set of fingers to wrap around his wrist and stop him from going anywhere. Before he can even turn around to look at you, you whisper out a sleepy and still drunken, "S-Stay."

All it takes is that one word of yours for the male to stop every movement. Hell, he thinks he stops breathing for a second. Turning his face around to look at you, he spots your eyes just barely open and your hand holding him.

Gojo swallows, "Sweets, as much as I want to... you don't really-"

"Satoru," You whisper.

The way you say his name so suddenly after not referring to him as such for what felt like an eternity makes his heart throb violently in his chest. Gojo's whole facial expression weakens, his body and mind completely incapacitated under the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch.

Your eyes flick up to him and he can tell that you're clearly drunk.

"Y-Yes?" Gojo whispers back.

"Stay." You command.

He feels so utterly helpless under your gaze. What is he supposed to say when you look at him so longingly? Holding onto his wrist in a way that makes him feel like if he leaves, he'll only leave you sadder.

He glances off to the side, "You're just gonna be upset when you sober up. I can't-"

"Toru please." You murmur, suddenly frowning, "I... d-don't wanna be alone."

Gojo's eyes shut and he grits his teeth, "Fucking hell... O-Okay, fuck, fine w-whatever you want." He stammers out, physically unable to deny your requests. "Just... don't curse me out when you're sober, please."

You let his wrist go and smiled cheekily, "No promisessss."

Gojo walks around to the other side of your bed and slowly lays down beside you. Even drunk, you could tell he was nervous doing so-- he already knew what was going to happen when your drunken state faded away. At first, the man lays down as far as possible, making you flip your body around to face him.

He clears his throat, "Is this okay?"

The guy was on the other side of your bed, clearly trying to keep his distance. You giggle, "No, stupid... Come hold me," You whisper.

"H-Hold you?" Gojo chokes out.

You sigh heavily, "At least until-," You yawn, "...I fall back asleep. T-Then you can leave, if you want."

With a slight nod, Gojo just barely slides closer to you. One of his large arms goes over your side and you immediately reciprocate, making his heart skip a beat at the way your small hand is felt on his back. The two of you were basically hugging each other and the state of his heart worsens as you snuggle in closer to him.

"C'mon, this is unfair..." Gojo sighs heavily.

You continue hugging him anyway, comforting your head into his chest. "I know," You whisper in response.

The two of you then get quiet for a while. Your breathing gets softer and softer against his chest and every brush of air against his skin makes it harder for him to calm his rapidly beating heart. It's been so long since you'd been close to him like this that he doesn't know how to handle it.

Gojo feels almost dizzy by your warm body against his. It's not turning him on or anything but his heart feels so odd in his chest.

Suddenly, your head shifts and you look up a him, "Gojo..." You whisper.

And he misses the way you say his first name already, "Hm?"

"You're so cruel to me." You babble out. Not only was your intoxication beginning to take over your mind, but fatigue was weighing in on you as well.

He sighs shakily, "Am I?"

"Very..." You start pouting, "He made me really happy, y'know..."

Gojo blinks in confusion.

"Choso," You clarify. Gloss begins to lay over your eyes and you quickly grow saddened, "...He won't even talk to me now."

"Did you... tell him about the list or something?"

"No, idiot." You fire back. "He wanted to date me but... I o-obviously couldn't say yes because of you."

Guilt thrums throughout Gojo's body, "I'm sorry." He apologizes sincerely.

You sigh heavily, "Y'know... if you were really sorry, you'd delete that video of me and let me go..."

"I can't." Gojo replies, squeezing his eyes shut, "I really can't."

"Why?" You question, scoffing slightly, "After all this time, can you at least tell me why it has to be me?"

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice."

What does he mean by that? You have no idea. It's just another one of Gojo's stupid explanations that make no sense whatsoever, leading you to only be annoyed with him for the nth time since you've known him. You're negative emotions for this male run deeper than anything else.

Even so, there's this underlying emotion you feel when he talks to you or looks at you. And you absolutely despise the way it affects you because the man simply plagues your heart, vexing you with his toxic and fucked up realities of how he wants things to go.

You find yourself lulled into it all nonetheless. Whether it be by choice or not, something about Gojo just draws you to him in so many ways.

You hate the way he looks at you as if your very existence is what he still breathes for. The way he talks to you like each second without your presence is steadily crushing his will to live. How he holds you so gently yet firmly as if he dreads the instant he has to let you go.

And more than anything, you hate the combination of all that being tied to his stupidly handsome face that makes you nervous at every second, even though you try to hide it. Then there are the memories of the very few good times you spent with him.

Somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside-- you'd give anything to go back to that morning you woke up in his arms.

Gojo Satoru may be no Kamo Choso but even so, both men hold some deep and special, whether it be good or bad, place in your heart.

You shake your head in disbelief, "...I hate you."

Gojo swallows down your words, "That uh... That makes four."

"What?" You scoff confusedly.

"That's the fourth time you've said those words to me-- the fourth time you've claimed to hate me." Gojo points out, his voice so clearly sorrowful, "I wish you didn't..."

Your brows bush together, "...Wish I didn't say it or...?"

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me."

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off unintentionally by continuing.

"It's odd though," Gojo whispers, his fingers toying with the back of the sweater you're wearing. "Why would you want to be in my arms if you hate me so much?"

You groan, "Cause'...." The reasoning takes a second to come out, almost as if you didn't want to admit such a thing out loud, "I don't... I don't wanna be alone." You murmur, your voice wavering a little before your grasp on him grows tighter.

Gojo's heart is pounding so ridiculously hard against his chest when he feels you cling to him so desperately. It took control of every muscle and vein in his body not to squeeze you back just as hard to let you know that he'd never leave unless you told him to.

A soft, heart-wrenching little chuckle leaves his lips, "Me neither, sweetheart."

For a second time, silence wraps around the two of you. The only noise in the air now was the sound of you both breathing faintly. You don't know why but, even though you hate him, you couldn't deny the deep sense of comfort and understanding you felt within his arms.

Your heart was heavy in your chest, feelings for Choso having a dangerous steel grip on you. If you were to complete this list; you needed to put your feelings for that man aside. Only temporarily though. By all means, no matter what it took, you'd be running back to Choso the very second you were freed to do so.

Unconsciousness creeps up on you and unexpectedly wraps your mind up in a warm little blanket, swaying you into relaxation and tugging you into a state of slumber. Meanwhile, Gojo lay awake, unable to fall asleep with the ounces of guilt, regret, and disappointment in himself that cascaded over him.

Though it took a while, he waited until it seemed like you were asleep and then tried to ease his way out. Sadly, through your sleep, you only clung onto his body more-- silently begging him not to go anywhere.

With a sigh, he ends up staying.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

A few hours later, you wake up because of a pounding headache. It was still dark and your eyes just barely opened to gather your surroundings. Finally, you were sober.

Your mind was all groggy and you couldn't remember much after Gojo came and picked you up. It was in fragments and pieces that you recalled talking to him in your sleep and begging him to stay with you.

Yet, when you woke up and opened your eyes, you were met with the dim sight of your bedroom door closed and no feeling of warmth or body heat around you. It annoyed you that Gojo left even though you told him to stay.

Being alone was the one thing you wanted to avoid.

Even hours after your intoxication had worn off, the worst part about it was that as you propped your side up using your elbow and reached for the meds on your nightstand, a wave of arousal abruptly coursed through you. Perhaps it was because of your interactions with Naoya's piss-poor skills at pleasing you-- having left you unsatisfied all this time.

While you swallowed down a pill to kill your headache, you planned on possibly going to lock your door and just rub it out. You hate waking up horny like this and the headache doesn't help either. If only Naoya had known how to use his dick properly, you would've been fine right now.

With a sigh, you move to sit up and suddenly spot a large build lying on the other side of your bed. You almost let out a yelp in surprise until you realized that it was Gojo and that the man never left you.

Your head tips to the side while you eye his resting frame. His back is to you and you figure the male moved away from you so that you wouldn't curse him out first thing in the morning. You groan slightly at the recollection of you telling him to stay.

The sound of your light groan is enough to stir the man awake. He begins to turn around and your heart jumps for some reason when you meet eyes with him.

Gojo rubs his eyelids slightly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Well... aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." He hums, his deep morning voice only worsening that arousal of yours.

You swallow, "Don't start."

"Mmmmgh.." He hums tiredly, the sound vibrating against his throat and weirdly making your state worse. He then sighs and shuts his eyes, "Don't start what, sweetheart?"

Gojo's voice is way too damn sexy for you to have a proper conversation and, of course, the damn pet name never helps.

You ignore his question, "You need to leave."

"Make me," Gojo says playfully. You frown and his eyes suddenly open, "Come over here 'nd force me out." He murmurs, voice still low but clearly playful.

You roll your eyes at the male, "I'm not joking."

He smirks seductively, the sight unintentionally attractive to you, "Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Why not?" You scoff sassily.

"Haven't done anythin' to make 'em roll, that's why," Gojo replies, the suggestiveness of his words feeding your hormones.

You push the blanket down and away from your legs, revealing your warm skin to the comforting air of your room. "You plan on doing something to make em' roll?" You reply.

Gojo's body stills in reaction to your words. His eyes close again and you watch him bite his bottom lip, "Want me to?"

You shouldn't. At all. You absolutely should not be needy for Gojo of all people.

You decide not to answer him and simply let out a yawn. He chuckles, the sound foolishly sexy. God, everything about this man is turning you on right now and you absolutely hate it.

"I can't stand you," You end up saying.

"Come sit on me then." Gojo fires back.

A throb is felt in between your legs and you grit your teeth. You didn't like the way he challenged you, almost as if you wouldn't really do so. It was one hundred percent because of your hormones that move, shifting to hold yourself up on your knees and shuffling over to the man.

Gojo's eyes shoot open and he chokes as you actually toss one leg over his and straddle him. His hands scramble a bit to lift himself up but you put your palm to his chest and push him right back down aggressively.

"Don't move now, you're the one who told me to come sit on you." You utter in a sultry tone.

He swallows as he stares up at you, never expecting you to be so bold. "Fuuck... it's too early for this y'know... Fuckin' sun isn't even up yet," He groans, his voice deeper than ever.

You lean forward, causing your crotch to rub over his, "Too early for what?"

"For you to be gettin' on top of me like this," Gojo sighs almost panicked, "I know I told you to but-," You wiggle into him a bit to comfort yourself, "F-Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually..."

Your torso tips forward and you press your fingertips into his chest, "Actually get on top of you?" You finish Gojo's statement questionably.

He nods, "Yeah."

The ache in between your legs is slowly becoming unbearable so, you roll your hips forward, your clothed cunt dragging against Gojo's cock and making his brows furrow and his jaw drop slightly.

"H-Hah, woah, w-wait, what're you doing?" Gojo questions. Those large hands of his go to your thighs and he squeezes your skin slightly.

You tilt your head innocently, "Trying to finish what that asshole Naoya left of me last nigh..." Your voice tails a bit as your roll your hips back and feel Gojo gently hump himself up into you, "Hah, n-night..." You manage out breathly.

Gojo smirks but his breathing is now heavy. He remembers you telling him that you had bad sex with Naoya but you never told him what exactly you meant by that. "What he left of-," He swallows hard, "You?"

Your head nods, "Mhm. Fucker didn't even make me cum," You explain, pouting frustratedly as you recall.

The male below you blinks, "What?"

"He didn't make me cum," You repeat while slowly grinding over the steady rise of Gojo's cock. There's almost nothing more stimulating than feeling as a male grows hard beneath you.

It's so warm and hard how his dick springs to life within the confines of his boxers. All because of a little bit of dry humping.

"You want me to make up for him?" Gojo's quick to offer.

You smile lustfully and drag your hips in a slow circle over his erection, "No... I can uh, shit... can get of jus' fine like this..." You tell him.

A wet spot forms on the male's boxers as precum seeps out the tip of his cock at the thought of watching you get yourself off by dry humping.

Gojo slips his hands up and under the sweater you're wearing, his grasp going to your hips and guiding you through your movements. "You sure?" He breathes out, "You and I both know I can satisfy you just fine."

You chuckle and then catch him off guard by grabbing his hands and prying them away from your body. Gojo's eyes widen when you pin his hands up above his head, your gaze meeting his while you continue grinding on him.

"I know you can but..." You tilt your head tauntingly, "You haven't earned that kinda thing back."

"W-What?" He stammers, his face flushing as your fingers squeeze around his wrists.

The way you're looking at him alone is enough to drive him over the edge but he manages to control himself. Your voice lowers, "You haven't earned the right to fuck me Gojo." Your words make him blink in disbelief, "Not after all the shit you put me through."

"But..."

"There is no but." You say, leaning down to him and tipping your head down to his neck. Carefully, you press your lips into him, "Right now, the only thing you've earned is the pleasure of being used by me."

Your words go straight to his cock and Gojo gulps. Is he hearing you correctly right now? Did you just say you were going to use his body for your pleasure? Is he even okay with that?? Of course he is. Gojo physically couldn't say no to such a thing.

Your lips push into the skin right under his jaw and Gojo groans lowly. Your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound and you grin. Lifting yourself, you move to hover your face over his, peering down into his eyes.

"S'that okay?" You whisper, "Can I do that?"

"I-I..." Gojo is at a complete loss for words right now.

You inch closer to him and your lips graze his own, "Can I use you, Gojo?"

He swore he almost came at the imagination of you doing so.

Everything you said was exactly what you wanted too. You really didn't believe that Gojo deserved to have sex with you without some form of punishment due to all the things he's putting you through. Hell, the only reason you're about to do anything with him is because of how horny you woke up.

Or at least, that's what you're going to blame it on anyway.

"Of course you can, sweets." Gojo utters, his eyes low, "I'm all yours, every part of me, it's all yours." He breathes out.

You smile at his words, "Yeah?"

"M-Mhm... You wanna selfishly use me to make yourself feel good," He shrugs, "By all means." Gojo encourages you, "Please do actually. I told you I'd make things up to you right?"

You almost forgot about that but, he's right. He did promise such a thing so, you nod in response.

"Consider this a part of it," The male explains, "I'm nothing more than a tool for you."

You smile at his words, butterflies fluttering through your stomach in reaction. You wondered if he was only speaking like this in terms of sex or if he meant in general but, based on the needy look in his eyes and the redness of his cheeks, he meant it in every aspect.

Slowly, your eyes shut and you press your lips into his for the first time in what feels like forever. The immediate whine that leaves Gojo is so utterly pathetic and desperate, the fact that you're still pinning his hands down acts as torture for the male.

Given that his favorite thing to do is touch you, to be deprived of that during sex is about to be one of the most difficult things he's ever experienced. But, for you; Gojo would do anything to fix everything he's broken between the two of you.

Your lips part over his and he's eager to accept your tongue sliding into his mouth, his hands simply twitching to feel your body as the two of you make out. It's slow and sloppy, wet tongues slipping over one another while soft and quiet moist sounds of your kissing fill the air.

It ends up being you that folds to the urge to touch and feel him, sliding your hands down from his writs, along his muscular arms, to his shoulders, and then to his neck and face-- growing more aggressive with your kissing and feelings his smooth skin beneath your fingers.

Gojo kept his arms up in place as you lifted from his mouth, quickly whispering his desires to you, "Can I touch you?" He hushes out before you kiss him again.

Feeling ignored, Gojo is struggling to control himself. Nothing is stopping him from moving his hands to your waist and flipping the two of you over, quickly grinding into that warm cunt of yours and pleasing you like he knows you deserve. Yet, he remains still anyway.

You tug on his lower lip for a moment before releasing it, "You wanna touch me?"

"Please," He begs, "A-At least while you're kissing me..."

"Alright," You agree, "But when I tell you to take your hands off me, you better."

Gojo nods understandingly and obediently, quickly flying his hands down to your waist and gripping onto you as your lips connect again. The kiss only grows sloppier, your lips sliding over his and his tongue working its way up into your mouth, leading you to hum against him.

Deep down inside, you can't lie... you did miss making out with Gojo. Nobody kisses you like he does. This man kisses you as if it's his dying act.

His hands go down to your hips and he pushes himself up a bit while pulling you down onto his crotch again. Through your messy kissing, Gojo starts moving with you to sit himself up with you in his lap, your lips hardly ever disconnecting from one another.

Now that you're both sat up, it makes kissing each other and dry humping at the same time a whole lot more comfortable and easy.

Through the softness of your lips, Gojo's able to whisper a thing out to you every now and then, "F-Fuck... I missed you s'much..." He mumbles into you.

His arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his neck, both of you hungrily making out with each other.

When you pull away for a second to breathe, you respond. "Did you?" You murmur.

Gojo nods eagerly, "You know I did."

You smile slightly as you kiss him again. Both of you just barely conversate in between pecks, "...Prove it," You utter.

The sound of his lips smacking over yours is heard, "O-Okay... I will, however-, mh... however you want." He speaks between your constant pecks and gentle sucks over his lower lip, "T-Told you... I'm all yours."

You finally pry away from his mouth completely, a string of saliva left between your lips and his. "Alright then... can I..." You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to debate if you really want to go through with the idea in your head.

Gojo looks absolutely dazed right now from all your kissing-- having almost blown his load in his pants from making out with you. His cheeks are completely red, his lips parted with heavy pants leaving him, and his eyes low as they look at you.

"Yes," Gojo blurts out, "Whatever it is, you can do it to me." He agrees.

The man appears as though he was fucked out and all you've done is swap spit with him.

You stare at him innocently before giving him one last peck and then moving to his ear, "Can I tie you up?"

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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glasvera · 9 days ago

Text

Fool Me Once...

Loki x GN!Reader

Description: You've been sent on a covert mission to distract the God of Mischief himself long enough to foil his plans. Unfortunately, this task becomes much harder when your target proves incredibly disarming.

Continues in ...Shame on You

Warnings/Disclaimers: Nothing, really. Gender neutral reader, reader is an expert in covert operations and deception.

A/N: Whaaaat!? It's not another Adam Warlock fic???? Yeah, that's right. I've got range. Sometimes. I swear. I do intend on making at least one more chapter to this, but figured I'd use this as a way to gauge interest in the idea.

Word Count: 1.2k

You had an impossible task on your hands: distract the god of mischief himself long enough for your compatriots to destroy the base of operations for the Yggdrasil tapping devices. The method was left up to you.

Making it into the palace had been the easy part. The right whispers into the right guard’s ear, a turn around the right alley, and Yggsgard had itself one less conscious citizen. At least you had covered them with a nearby tapestry after divesting them of their uniform. It was a little loose, but it would have to do.

The key to gaining access to restricted areas is to simply act as though you belong there. You strut along, head held high with your pilfered weapon at your side, and no one bats an eye. A friendly nod here and there, which you are good enough to reciprocate, but otherwise, you make it through undetected.

The mission’s window was ultimately indeterminate. Instead, the follow-through hinged upon your discretion and signal.

Put simply, you had all the time in the world to do what you do best.

You settle into your new routine, falling into step alongside your fellow guards and performing your daily patrols. A wave of your hand here, a forged document there, and after day three you were assigned every detail that could get you closest to your target. You knew what you were looking for: golden horns, garbed in the finest green and blue silks, adorned in even more gold.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t expected him to have the regal face and features to match.

Still, you had a mission to accomplish. And even sooner still, one of Loki’s personal servants had mysteriously vanished. Tragic, really. Whispers float down the gilded hallways of a terrible illness or some other horrible thing that might be keeping them away from the palace, but it seemed easily accepted among the rest of the staff. Perhaps that should worry you more than it does, but as long as it makes your job smoother, so be it.

And what a wonder that the most recent guard addition finds themselves promoted to private attendant?

Ironically enough, it was a much more grueling position than guard duty ever was. Loki was quite the demanding and particular sort. He wasn’t necessarily quick to anger, but he was certainly quick to irritate.

“No, no, not like that at all! Did your mother never teach you how to brush hair? The absolute indignance of today’s youth…” he complains after you accidentally snag a gilded comb in the bed-headed tangles of his raven locks. He was always worse just after waking, though you suppose most people were when you really thought about it.

“A thousand apologies, my lord,” you offer with a bow of your head. At least he can’t see you roll your eyes at him that way. He simply scoffs and waves his hand, allowing you to continue more gently this time.

“Ah, well… at least you’re pretty enough to look upon,” he says nonchalantly. “I’ve always had a weakness for the pretty ones. Like looking in a mirror,” he adds with a mirthful twinkle in his eye.

You shouldn’t feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and yet they warm all the same. He notices when the comb halts against his scalp and stares at the ceiling before letting out an exaggerated groan..

“You know, when your god compliments you, the least you could do is thank him for such generosity,” he chastises you with a curled lip. He crosses his arms and glowers at you through the mirror, and for a moment you feel as though he could see right through you.

You clear your throat before your tongue wets your suddenly dry lips, quick to correct your mistake. “R-Right, of course. Thank you, your benevolence.” That tickles him, at least.

“Hah! Benevolence. Yes, I suppose I can be quite benevolent when it suits me,” he jokes, speaking more to himself as he glances at the back of his hand to admire his perfectly trimmed nails. “Yet I prefer to have benevolence acted upon me rather than the other way around. It’s so tiring being nice to people. Don’t you agree?”

You purse your lips into a thin line, biting back the bile rising in your throat as you nod. “I couldn’t agree more, my lord.”

Slowly, Loki closes his eyes and sighs. He catches the wrist that combs through his hair, and you drop the instrument in surprise before it clatters to the tiled floor. He turns and stands from his ornate vanity stool then, capturing your attention, and appraises you thoughtfully. Those emerald eyes seem to bore into your very soul as his lips part curiously.

You were good at your work. The best. It’s why they hired you in the first place. So why has this one man, this god, rattled you to your very core?

“You seem to be the agreeable sort, don’t you? Good.” His gaze traces along your features, and for a moment you could have sworn they paused at your lips. You find yourself frozen on the spot. He doesn’t hold your wrist tightly at all. In fact, he cradles it gently, brushing his thumb over your pulse point. “But your heart is racing, my dear. Whatever could be causing you such turmoil?”

His voice is charismatic, you’ve learned, and even now his tone is almost flirtatious. But the way he toys with you effortlessly while eyeing you with such scrutiny allows doubt to fester in your mind. What if he’s known your game the whole time?

No… who would ever allow their enemy this close willingly?

Instead you play the part of the blushing maid, letting the half-truths spill from your tongue like a fine mead.

“I-I must apologize, your greatness. I fear I’ve admired you for quite some time, and…” you stammer, quite proud of your performance as you add the pièce de résistance by dramatically averting your gaze in embarrassment.

“Ah… the forbidden attraction,” he purrs, allowing his ego to inflate. Those pearly white teeth of his flash with an almost threatening smile. He leans in and runs his index finger along your jaw, and that does elicit a genuine shiver from you. “It’s only natural, my sweet. That you have such exquisite tastes speaks volumes of your character.”

By the gods, how can this man go from turning you on immensely to making you want to relieve the contents of your stomach in just a few simple words?

He releases his hold on you, satisfied, stepping away to retrieve his fur collared cloak and throwing it over his shoulders with ease. Unsure of what to do, you remain standing in that very spot, awaiting his next commands. Loki shoots you a glance over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“Well? Aren’t you going to pick up after yourself?” he chides with a smirk as he kicks the dropped comb towards you.

You find yourself scrambling to grab it then, fumbling a few times at procuring a mostly flat object from off of the floor. This seems to amuse Loki immensely.

“I think I’ll quite enjoy your company. As I said, I do enjoy the pretty ones.”

He chuckles and, with a wave of his cape, departs the room, leaving you stunned and speechless as the clacking of his golden heels disappears down the hallway.

#loki x reader #marvel rivals x reader #loki #marvel rivals #marvel rivals fanfic #glasvera writes #i am not immune to loki propaganda

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spacexgrl · 3 months ago

Text

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 5

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo

“meet me after practice?”

Abby asked you as she parked her car on the campus parking lot and opened the door for you, sticking her hand out to help you hop out easier you really didn’t want to be so down bad for her..but shit her sweet and caring nature definitely wasn’t helping that.

“hmm i don’t know..Ellie still has some things at my place and i want her completely gone by the end of the week. If i can’t make it before friday i’ll catch you at Jesse’s party kay?”

you gave her a long goodbye kiss with little smiles in between how can someone be so damn cute?? you asked yourself as abby locked eyes with you, still caged in her gracious arms slowly losing yourself in the ocean of her eyes. If you could you’d drown and die in them. If only

“i’ll make sure to see you before friday, doll..don’t miss me too much though”

both of you laughed as you hit her playfully, she let you out of her grasp and walked you towards your first lecture of the day, your best friend was already waiting for you at the door raising her eyebrows as you approached her. She immediately nodded the way Abby squeezed your waist as you said your goodbyes and parted ways in the hallway, her eyes never leaving you until you were out of sight.

“you’ve got some explaining to do young lady”

💫

you spent the whole lecture with updating her on everything that went down last night. She was always on your side as you explained what happened between you and Ellie, you were lying if you said that you completely moved on from her already of course not..fuck it’s not as easy as you thought it would be.

Even though everything felt easy with Abby, she distracted you in the best way possible, she had everything that Ellie didn’t give you, she made you forget how miserable Ellie made you feel but you still felt it crashing down on you the moment you separated. Ellie’s reaction to you hanging out with Abby didn’t help either, you were mad at yourself for letting her still have an affect on you…but you won’t let her get to you, she’s not yours anymore.

Still Ellie managed to trouble your thoughts as you got through your day, you decided to unblock her and sent her a quick message..you needed her out of your life as soon as possible.

get the rest of your things tonight, i want you gone

i’ll be there,love

you almost gagged at her text, the nerve she had using the cute nickname she’d always call you..well before dina entered the picture obviously. You felt bad for her, you really did ..you could almost see how Ellie gave her empty promises and sweet nothings…she sure knew how to make a girl fall in love..too bad that she’ll be the one dying alone if she doesn’t change her ways.

Luckily that wasn’t your problem anymore, you thought as you finished up your notes for upcoming exams, happy with your work and progress. You felt free, you’ll never have to deal with the pressure of being enough for Ellie or anyone anymore. Pride swelled up in your chest as you checked your makeup in your little hello kitty compact mirror. Maybe you were imagining things but you noticed your skin was glowier than ever..radiant even,your blemishes were clearing up nicely and your lips weren’t as chapped as before..they were pillowy soft as you rubbed them together to gloss up your lips after you reapplied your yummy strawberry lipgloss..it’s like your body was detoxifying from Ellie.

Your weren’t the only one that noticed it.

Your best friend has always been your biggest fan dang Abby’s been doing you good huh?? she was so right. She kept showering you with compliments the entire day, enamored with the way you carried yourself so confidently and secure about yourself. She desperately wanted needed to be like you one day.

Nora, Abby’s friend and basketball teammate, also asked about what perfume you were using because you smelled so good as you walked past her! Abby didn’t lie when she said that you smelled like a vanilla sugar cookie.

Some girls you’ve never talked to before asked you about your haircare routine while you fixed it in the bathroom. God i wish my hair was so healthy and shiny like yours! you happily shared all your favorite products and how to use them properly.

Your friend Jesse, who was unironically Dina’s Ex boyfriend from their high school years said that you look like you ‘picked up pilates’ in one of your shared lectures. Hey just because of my tracksuit?

“did you know that our exes are dating each other though?”

“don’t remind me, just saw their hard launch stories on ig”

he opened Ellie’s instagram account and handed you his phone to look at her stories, everything was full of Dina. She never bothered to post anything about you in the last years. You scoffed as you gave the phone back.

“Well at least we’re the hot exes”

Ellie rolled her eyes at your comment, she’s been creeping up on you from the moment you climbed out of Abby’s car, always in your shadows without you knowing, right now she was sitting right behind you. She really didn’t want to be with you..but she couldn’t exactly be without you either so you could imagine how excited she got as you told her to pick up some stuff that she left on purpose for this exact reason. She needed to see you, she needed to feel you. Rage consumed her brain knowing that Anderson could rip you away from her like it was nothing. She was physically with Dina but her soul was still intertwined with yours fuck..she remembers how she accidentally called out for you instead of her as she fucked Dina into her mattress during one of their many study sessions, at this point she was begging Ellie to break up with you for the sake of their relationship but she refused, only taking actions as Dina threatened to break it off if she didn’t end things with you immediately. So she did. And now? She was in shambles, a miserable wreck without your love and she regretted it so deeply. Seeing you so carefree and happy without her left a bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth. It wounded her ego even. Maybe she was slowly losing her fucking mind.

“Lecture’s over, Williams”

The professor shouted as he packed his things and left the room. Ellie was left alone in the empty room, she was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice you leaving. Fuck it she’ll be over at your place very soon.

💫

You arrived at home in the late afternoon, your best friend offered you a ride home and dropped you off after getting a sweet treat from your local bakery.

text me after practice <3

you sent abby a quick text as you devoured the sweet sugary goodness.

There was still some time left until Ellie arrived so you decided to do some chores that you’ve been avoiding and changed into a fresh set of soft pink pijamas. You were starting to feel like yourself again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

ding!

you grabbed your phone hoping that Abby replied but it was Ellie instead.

here

you forced yourself up from your comfortable position on the couch to open the door for Ellie. You didn’t want to admit it but she looked good dressed in beat up pants and a white tank top, tattooed arm on display. Her emerald eyes glued on your figure as you lead her to the cardboard box you stuffed with all of her remaining belongings, hoping to speed up the awkward process.

“why are you so tense, love? scared of wanting me?”

her tone was mean and degrading, what was her fucking problem? she broke up with you not the other way around.

“Ellie just take the fucking box and leave”

she approached you, getting closer and closer until your back hit the wall unable to escape her any longer. Her hot breath hit your neck as she took in your sweet scent, her hands slowly found their way to your lower back, sneaking around your lower waist.

“tell me you don’t want me”

she whispered in that low voice that made your stomach flip, her lips almost brushing yours only a few inches away. You felt like sinking your teeth into the forbidden fruit..a short term sweetness that would rot you from the inside and kill you in the most painful way possible.

“Ellie don’t…”

your whined, suddenly unsure about your feelings towards her. Sure you hated her with all your heart but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still hot as fuck standing right in front of you with her stupid green eyes and that dumb half up half down hairstyle you loved so much..it was messing with your head, you felt hot and hazy, light headed even. Fuck you were going to crack right there and then, just as you were about to give yourself to Ellie your phone lit up.

Incoming call from ‘Abby 🤍’

you managed to escape from Ellie as the sound of your ringtone distracted her for a minute, mentally curing herself out fucking hell she was so close.

You answered the call quickly.

“open the door baby”

oh shit

🎀

pt 6

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams #abby anderson smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #tlou smut #ellie williams smut #wlw #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fic #ellie williams fic #abby angst #ellie angst

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susicheng · 1 month ago

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𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices l.mk

chapter 14 bitchless no more

it felt like you had only blinked before saturday rolled around. you had already bothered ten about outfit options, facetiming him for upwards of 3 hours last night to figure something out. it wasn’t like this was the first time you were going to be spending time with mark in a romantic light. hell, you had slept with him less than a week ago. he had facetimed you every day when you looked half dead over break. there was no way he would get thrown off if you didn’t look perfect today.

still, you wanted it to be perfect. it might have been unnecessary to touch up your lipgloss for what felt like the 12th time that morning, but it made you feel more prepared. for what exactly, you weren’t sure.

a ding from your phone startled you out of your trance, nearly causing you to mess up your dozenth reapplication of pomegranate flavored lip gloss (if you were being honest, it just tasted like regular old lip gloss, but it was the thought that counted). a glance at the notification told you all you needed to know. a simple: “i’m here :)” followed by a “do you want me to come up and get u?” from markly <3. you shot back a quick reply: “who said chivalry was dead. u don’t have to, i’m omw down” before grabbing your bag and darting out of your apartment.

it was difficult to not let your nerves get the better of you during the short elevator ride down to the ground floor. it was just mark, the man you had fallen head over heels for in a little over a month.

his car was easy to spot, and you slid into the passenger seat quickly, eager to get out of the cold. mark’s bright smile greeted you once you turned to look at him, filling you with a familiar warmth you had craved since the last time you had seen him. the kind of fuzzy warmth that only he could supply you with.

“ready?” his voice was assured. confident.

“you know i am.” as usual, his voice caused calmness to wash over you again. your earlier nerves replaced instead with excitement. you had forgotten how comfortable you’ve become with him.

. . .

it became increasingly obvious what your first stop would be. it was cliche, yes, yet somehow still exceedingly romantic. he parked and rushed to get out and open your car door for you, igniting a small fit of laughter between the two of you. snow fell in small flurries as you both began walking, hand in hand, to the ice skating rink mark had decided on.

getting onto the ice was anything but graceful for the two of you. it had been a long time since either of you had skated. something about your combined inexperience made you think that the day would become a lot more amusing.

giggles erupted from the pair of you and mark as you both attempted to recall just how to do this. in the end, you picked it back up incredibly quickly, while mark stared on in awe. you were no figure skater (in fact, you were far from it. it was a little bit surprising how easily mark was impressed), but you were able to prevent yourself from landing on your ass every few meters, unlike mark.

you couldn’t hold back obnoxious laughter as mark fell, again. “mark, didn’t you pick to do this?”

“i really thought i would be better than this.” he pouted as you helped him up.

“you’re cute. i’ll hold your hand.”

you knew you were not talented enough in the ice skating department to actually be of any help. in fact, holding hands probably just made you at least 10x more susceptible to collectively eating shit. still, it was the thought that counted. and mark was not about to pass up the opportunity to cling to you.

after one too many falls, and at least 12 developing bruises on your body from your crashes, mark decided it was time to wrap up this activity. he removed your skates for you, insisting you shouldn’t have to lift a finger when he’s around to help you (yes, it might have done things to you that were inappropriate for the setting. that’s not your fault).

by the time you got back to the car, both of your faces were flushed from the cold. you found that it didn’t bother you in the slightest, not when you could admire the pink hue mark’s cheeks had taken on.

. . .

paying attention to the direction he was going, you figured out pretty quickly that he was taking you back to his apartment. upon arriving, he led you to his unit (as if you didn’t know where it was) and led you into his bedroom.

you weren’t sure what to expect for certain, but it was nothing like what greeted you as you entered. littered all across his bed were gifts, presumably for you.

a bouquet of assorted flowers stood out in the center, looking too fresh to have been placed there before mark left to pick you up.

“did you make hyuck set this up while we were out?” you teased, glancing at mark to watch the sheepish expression form on his face.

“he offered…”

“oh my god, you’re so cute mark.”

you approached the bed, allowing your eyes to wander over the various gifts he had collected for you. a couple of standout gifts included: a suho 1 to 3 album, an exo exist album, and what seemed like a collection of letters tied in a bundle with twine.

“what are these?” you picked the bundle up and held it out in question.

“oh… um. letters i wrote to you while you were back home and while you weren’t talking to me. please don’t read those until you’re alone. they’re really embarrassing…”

you felt your heart catch in your throat at his confession, your fingers lightly grazing the bundle of letters before setting them down with care. turning to face him, you found him nervously scratching the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze.

"mark…" you started, but he cut you off, stepping closer.

"i—look, i know i’m not good at saying this kind of stuff, and you probably already know how i feel, but i just—" he paused, exhaling sharply, his voice softer when he spoke again. "i really like you, yn. like, really like you. and i know we’ve kind of just been figuring things out, but i want you to be mine. officially."

your chest tightened, his words sinking in as the weight of the moment settled between you.

"you’re so stupid sometimes, mark," you whispered, stepping closer until you were only inches apart. "did you really think i’d say no?"

his wide-eyed expression melted into a grin, relief washing over his features. "so… that’s a yes?"

"of course, it’s a yes, idiot," you laughed, your voice shaky from the emotions bubbling inside you.

his lips were on yours before you could say anything else, his hands cradling your face with a gentleness that contradicted the urgency of the kiss. it wasn’t the first time you’d kissed mark, but something about this one felt different—like it carried every unsaid word, every unspoken feeling, and every promise of what was to come.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and with your forehead resting against his, you whispered, "you’re mine, too, you know."

he chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "i wouldn’t want it any other way."

the room felt warmer now, the air charged with something unspoken yet understood. his hands slipped down to your waist, his grip firm but careful as he guided you back toward the bed.

"mark," you murmured, anticipation in your voice.

the way his lips curled into a soft smile before pressing against yours again made you feel like the only person in the world. the kiss deepened, his touch growing more confident as his hands explored the curve of your hips and the small of your back.

soon, the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled in each other, the night unfolding into something intimate and unforgettable.

previous ꩜ .ᐟ next ꩜ .ᐟ masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

#: @hyuksworld @gela0205 @cyjzzl @mmjhh1998 @injvns @222brainrot @kittydollzz @tadadw @t-102 @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @nctrawberries @ryuvrsie @ttjisung @ddolbyong @purezitas @jae-n0 @ballsa420 @remgeolli @fullsungss @peterm4rker @autumngirlchim @holyhaech @njmluvr @choizzn @sewergirlfriend @ddolleri @toroufriteh @pickmedolls @haechansssun @yizhrt @haesluvr @ilovebtsomgie @seulpinkk @haechology @ant-onie @xuyiyang @alwahyeonie @nahyuckers @jich3nle @fae-renjun @jeongintwt @wonupuppy @eternallyhyucks

#nct #nct dream #nct smau #nct x reader #mark nct #mark x you #mark x reader #mark #mark lee #mark smau #mark lee smau #mark lee x you #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader

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helenofsparta2 · 2 months ago

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Percy did nothing wrong in Battle of the Labyrinth

Buckle up, this is going to be a very, very long post.

I’ve already made two posts about Percy getting blamed for things he had little to no control over, or some criticism just being extremely unfair towards him, but I’ve never really talked about battle of the labyrinth.

Especially on sides like tiktok, people really drag Percy for how he acted in this book, and I have never really understood why, so since Percy is my favourite RR character, I’ve finally decided to make a post trying to untangle this whole mess.

Generally I’ve seen three main criticisms against him in this book. If you know of others, please let me know.

Him & Calypso

His relationship with Annabeth

The situation with Rachel

Calypso

The criticism I’ve seen here is mostly based on these three topics:

He didn’t immediately go back to Camp Half-blood

He forgot about Annabeth and his friends while spending time being happy with Calypso

He hesitated when Hephaestus told him he could go back & called Calypso his biggest what if

Let’s tackle these one by one.

He didn’t immediately go back to Camp Half-blood after waking up

Well, he … couldn’t.

Shortly before arriving on Ogygia, Percy had gotten burned alive with lava. A feeling he described as a pain “worse than anything he’d ever felt” (194) . And He’d blown up a volcano, an action so powerful, the mortal authorities were forced to evacuate almost half a million people, which made ash fall as far as Lake Tahoe in Vancouver and closed off the Mount st. Helens area within a hundred-mile radius.

Just a quick reminder of Percy’s physical state after all of that:

“I was really weak. I couldn’t stay on my feet more than a few hours. Whatever I’d done in Mount St. Helens had drained me like nothing else I’d ever experienced.” (203)

I woke up feeling like I was still on fire. My skin stung. My throat felt as dry as sand. (196)

I tried to sit up. My muscles felt like they were melting. (196)

I looked as if I’d lost ten kilos I couldn’t afford to lose.” (198)

My knees buckled, and I would’ve landed face-first in the grovel if Calypso hadn’t caught me. (200)

Maybe I was just really weak and thin (200)

Even after a few days/ weeks his legs were still stiff, and he was still getting dizzy from standing up for too long (203)

I hadn’t been in control of myself in that mountain. I’d released so much energy I’d almost vaporized myself, drained all the life out of me.

So, he was not able to physically leave, despite very much wanting to.

2. He forgot about Annabeth and his friends, while enjoying his time with Calypso

Also pretty easy to defend, because, again, he didn’t.

He never stopped thinking about Annabeth, and his other friends. Not once.

Even before waking up, Percy said their names in his sleep so often that Calypso knew them when he woke up (p. 199)

His first reaction to Calypso telling him that he could heal in safety was:

“But my friends-“

“Annabeth”, she said. “And Grover and Tyson.”

“Yes!” I said. “I have to get back to them. They’re in danger.” (199)

He tried to use his empathy link with Grover several times on Ogygia to find out if he, Tyson and Annabeth were okay, but couldn’t make any contact (P. 203)

“I thought about Annabeth, Grover and Tyson constantly.” (P. 204)

The first thing he does after Hephaestus arrives on Ogygia is asking him about Annabeth’s well-being (207)

3. He hesitated when Hephaestut told him he could go back

This is the first time, the sentiment is somehow connected to the text, because Percy did hesitate for a little bit:

“I wanted to say yes. Of course I would. But the words were stuck in my throat. I found myself looking out at the lake, and suddenly the idea of leaving seemed very hard. (209)

Afterwards, he walked along the beach for several hours, thinking of what to do next (210)

But if you actually read the chapter, you very easily understand that Percy never really, seriously considered staying:

When Hephaestus insinuated, he might not return to camp half-blood he immediately said: “What do you mean? Of course I’m coming back.”

The first thing he says, after Calypso offered him to stay forever on Ogygia was: “But… my friends.” (211)

His immediate verbal response after Calypso admitted she was in love with him was to say: “I can’t. I would never do anything to hurt you, but my friends need me. I know how to help them now. I have to get back.” (212)

We also need to consider his reasons for hesitating in the first place. He did not hesitate because he was in love with Calypso. Yes, he thought she was cute when she laughed, thought she was more beautiful than Aphrodite, and didn’t want to make her feel sad, but she is not the reason he hesitated. His biggest what if is not Calypso herself. His biggest what if is what she represents: Peace, Happiness, and a way to avoid the responsibility of the prophecy.

Through Stolen Chariot, we know that Percy’s biggest fear is making the wrong decision and dooming everyone he cares about:

“I stood paralyzed. This was the moment I had always dreaded: the prophecy that was supposed to come about when I was sixteen. I would make a choice that would either save or destroy Olympus. Now the moment was here, and I had no idea what to do. The camp was burning. My friends looked at me, begging for help. My heart pounded. I couldn’t move. What if I did the wrong thing? (The Stolen Chariot)

The first thing Calypso says to convince him to stay is: “You could leave the fight to others, Percy Jackson. You could escape your prophecy.”(211)

He also considered the possibility that it might be best for his friends if they believed him to be dead:

“Now I found out I’d nearly destroyed the Northwest US and almost woken the most horrible monster ever imprisoned by the gods. Maybe I was too dangerous. Maybe it was safer for my friends to think I was dead. (208)” She was cute when she laughed.

And even if he did develop a little crush on her, which I don’t even believe, I just think he really liked her and felt bad for her, how would that be his fault or something we could blame him for???? Since when can people control who they have or don’t have a crush on???

And the most important thing is: he left. As soon as he knew how to, as soon as he was healthy enough, he left. He went back to his friends, missing out on a peaceful and probably very happy life, shouldered the prophecy once again, and left.

His relationship with Annabeth

I can not say enough how much Percy actually supported Annabeth during the course of battle of the labyrinth

He reassured her constantly, that she would do a good job in leading this quest, when she doubted herself: (“You’re doing great. Besides, we never know what we’re doing. It always works out. Remember Circe’s Island?” She snorted. (P. 120))

He hugged her when she needed a hug: Then she did something that really surprised me. She blinked back tears and put out her arms. I stepped forward and hugged her. (Chapter 4, P. 76)

He trusted her; despite knowing she didn’t tell him the entirety of her prophecy

There are only three points in which they have some kind of conflict in. One of them is the whole thing with Calypso, but I’ve already dealt with that. The other two are the scene after Kronos overtook Luke’s body and then the whole situation with Rachel.

The scene after Kronos overtook Luke’s body

One of the main criticisms people have of Percy here is that he didn’t comfort Annabeth immediately after that scene. While that criticism is somewhat true, it's important to note that he didn’t act out of any malicious intent. After Annabeth collapsed, sobbing with her head between her knees, he didn’t rush to her side—but this was not because he meant to hurt her.

Percy himself was shocked and traumatized by the experience

After she asked him what happened, Percy was as gentle as he could be when he told her: “He gave himself over to Kronos,” I said. “I’m sorry Annabeth, but Luke is gone.” (291)

He only snaps at her, when she continues to defend Luke and accuses Percy of wanting him to be evil: “You want him to be evil, is that it?” Annabeth yelled. “You didn’t know him before, Percy. I did!” “What is it with you?” I snapped. “Why do you keep defending him?” (292)

If we’re being honest, there is nothing Percy could have said to her, which would have helped her, and with the history he has with Luke, I personally can’t blame him for not being able to comfort her about his death or being annoyed that she still defends him after everything

As a reminder, at this point in time, Luke had tried to kill Percy multiple times, told him that he should have died in Tartarus, tortured Annabeth and was completely okay with killing every single kid in camp half-blood

He still wanted to comfort her after that, but he simply didn’t know how to: I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t know how. I still felt stunned, like Kronos’s time-slowing effect had affected my brain. I just couldn’t comprehend what I’d seen. Kronos was alive. He was armed. And the end of the world was probably close at hand. (292)

Avoiding an argument might have actually been the smartest thing he could have done after that

When it was time to continue on their way, he still treated Annabeth gently “I knelt next to Annabeth. “Hey, I’m sorry. We need to move.” (292)

Did Annabeth need someone to talk to? Yes, obviously. Was Percy snapping back at her unnecessary and the last thing she needed in the moment? Also yes. This girl has suffered an unimaginable lot in this book and all the previous ones, especially because of Luke. I’m not blaming her here for the way she acted. She loved Luke, and this might be one of the worst fates imaginable for a loved one. Everyone would have cracked in one way or another.

But is it also insane to criticize a 14-year-old boy, because he did not properly comfort his friend, who grieved the death of a guy, who tried to kill that 14-year old boy for the last two years? Also, yes.

They were two traumatized teenagers with the weight of the world on their shoulders, in a very shitty situation, and I think blaming either of them for how they reacted in this moment is entirely unfair.

Overtaking her quest, by asking Rachel for help

So, I hope we all realize, that this is a stupid argument, and I don’t need to elaborate on why, right? Like, they needed Rachel’s help. Obviously, it’s shitty for Annabeth that she had to rely on a mortal girl, especially a girl with a crush on Percy, but that doesn’t change the fact that they didn’t have another choice. Rachel was vital for the success of their quest,

Percy also sometimes told Annabeth to lay off Rachel, but, like, Annabeth was acting mean towards her, and Percy is a nice person, who knows that Rachel didn’t deserve this treatment.

I think these are all of the criticisms I have seen, and as a really huge fan of Percy, I’m getting so tired of seeing all of them. Please inform me if I have overlooked any!!!

#Let's all remember that Percy was also a kid for the entire duration of the books challenge #Please reread the books before trying to criticize a character's action #Sometimes I don't think I'm made for fandom culture #My own fault for having this hyper fixation #percy jackson #rick riordan #pjo #battle of the labyrinth #annabeth chase #calypso pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians

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