#it felt great to just be simple. no need to strive for better when i know what i want to see
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difty-dift · 1 year ago
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That's Week 2 done!
... and that's it! Lmao I wish I could keep this up but I'm gonna be so busy the next like 3 weeks and won't have the freedom to draw a bunch of duders every day. Gonna focus on the weekly stuff instead~ ✌️
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tiredassmage · 10 months ago
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what type of villain are you?
your honor, i do love a good uquiz diagnosing the diseases and problems of my fictional characters and also i might be slightly procrastinating a final paper. saw this one from @sasslett and simply could not resist :3 quiz link! for those who'd like.
swtor edition first!
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tyr deckard - then let me be evil
You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!
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alucren ellery - the betrayer
You like to do things up close and personal. As personal as you can get. You are an excellent actor, and you do adore putting on a smile knowing your worst enemy, the one you hate the most, doesn't suspect a thing when they tell you their deepest secrets. Your only motivation is revenge, and revenge you shall get. Perhaps you loved them once, long ago, but any fondness for your target you once felt has long since warped and twisted into perverse obsession, laced with malice and venom and seething hatred. Good or evil does not matter to you. All that matters is they get what they deserve.
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leo ashold - the coward
You didn't have another choice, honest! Have these people SEEN what the heroes are up against? It'd end you in an instant, whether that be a lovecraftian abomination with a hold on your soul, a rampaging monster that's destroying more than a hurricane and an earthquake could in one fell swoop, a shadow organization that has tabs on everyone you love and will end them in an instant, or just a particularly grumpy boss that might yell at you if you don't fall in with his excessively tyrannical methods, you can't go risking your neck for the poor saps that think they can stop it. No way, you're staying on the bad guy side, where it's SAFE.
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rhyst delavast - for the greater good
Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.
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savosta - no moral compass
You are cold, analytical, and you strive to be as objective as a person of flesh and blood can be. Either don't understand the concepts of good and evil, or you understand it perfectly and think it's a load of bull. Some may call you selfish, some may call you unfeeling, but you're just doing what you believe will yield the best results, plain and simple. Why bother with petty ideals of right or wrong when you can do what will actively help those you give a fuck about? Your goals may be selfish or noble or anything in between, but you will not let anyone make you feel like garbage for going after them. You couldn't care less about what people brand you as. You just care about getting shit done by any means necessary.
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rosebudpotion · 2 years ago
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@lightcreators cont from {x}
🌹" That sounds like a threat Draco. You better watch yourself and who you threaten...." It would only be a matter of years before they will all be learning hard and more dangerous spells. Sure the blond had a step up on Harry in terms of study but a spell doesn't have to be dangerous to be effective.
As she was already showing with a simple levitation spell. Harry was getting by somehow though. He'd made it this far with small problems, sure Draco was petty but it could only get him so far.
"So this snake is yellow-bellied. Good to know that if one ever needs your help not to ask for it. There's being reasonable and then theirs making a habit of being a coward Malfoy. Then again, since you strive to be your father I guess you get it from him." If he wanted to bring parents into this then she'll shoot. There were so many things that the witch could pull to embarrass the young Malfoy.
Then again perhaps even bad publicity was still publicity? Rose doubted that really hard when most wizarding families tried to keep their noses clean nowadays.
Rose turned to face Harry," I would believe that you aspire to be good at Quidditch, correct? Youngest Seeker in a century if I recall and it's a talent your father had? I'd say that's an aspiration if anything" She was flat-out ignoring the blond at this point trying to fill the air with something more pleasant.
Too bad the fellow Slyithern knew how to anger her now. Why was it so funny to him that someone not having proper parental units was a good thing? Nobody asked to be an orphan after all.
"I did not know you lived with your aunt as well Harry....though....just that you lived with Muggles...." She didn't like the sarcasm coming from Draco on the matter. The touchy subject really if he could joke about something like that. Then again perhaps she'd never hear him be serious with Potter as the main topic.
Her head snapped back to Malfoy her milky eyes filled with rage." Do not speak ill of my father, your family especially. At least he confessed to his crimes and has taught me plenty. My aunts take me to see him during the summer for your information." Rose hated going to Azbakan, it was an awful and cold place. Darkest of the dark and being she'd been bathed/ born in it that was saying something.
Honestly, it was one good thing that the two had once a year though Rose felt awful about it being that the Dementors would just suck all that happiness away in the end.
"With great power comes great responsibility. Yes, it is indeed the wrong manner to use one's brilliance but ....perhaps one-day things will change. After all, this is only our second year....unless Malfoy is going for a record of being the most annoying person in the wizarding world. If that's the case he might gain it by the end of the year~" She smirked and giggled covering her mouth so that the noise didn't get too far.
She really was trying to give him encouragement that not everything was what it seemed but perhaps he'd just been beaten down too hard for the day. The brunette couldn't blame him on the matter and shook her head. " I keep being told that such brattiness is 'acting our age or kids will be kids' nonsense really ....."
Rose wanted to be shocked that nobody had told him about his father's lineage, bizarre and unfair. Then again, perhaps that's why they sent him to live with Muggles? So that he didn't become like Malfoy?
"Yes, all three of our families are part of the famous grouping of families. Even your friend Ron....though ......" It was clear she was looking to find the proper words. "...... Sometimes horrible things happen to good families..."
Rose had nothing against the Wheasly family, though her aunts did being that they didn't care for how 'mutty' they looked. The young witch thought it funny given the eldest of the triplet aunts had just as wild and crazy ginger curls.
"Hmm, perhaps I'll just ask my aunts in my next owl... perhaps they can give me a little help.....or maybe they can teach us how to turn Malfoy into a cat .... it's what my Aunts do with naught muggle kids around our place~" Another round of giggling. 🌹
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themosleyreview · 2 years ago
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The Mosley Review: 65
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I have really missed films like these. The simple, straight forward sci fi survival films that don't really have over reaching themes or some epic revelation that will shock the audience. Its just a quest from point A to point B and the adventure that ensues across the "foreign" terrain. What this film had going for it is the classic theme of man vs nature and I loved that. I will admit that if the twist of it being Earth wasn't given away in the trailer, then it may have been a greater surprise. It could've made this film a sleeper hit. It is a straight forward film that doesn't over stay its welcome by being more than 90 minutes and that was a plus for sure.
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Adam Driver was excellent as the Mills as he is the equivalent of a space Fedex driver with a rifle. His story wasn't revolutionary by any means, but it does give him something to strive for and an emotional core that was almost unexpected. Chloe Coleman was great as his daughter Nevine and I loved the emotional rollercoaster her character exudes when Mills was with her and in the holographic messages she made for him. Ariana Greenblatt was good as Koa and I liked her reactions to the world around her and that she was smart. Most of the time in roles like hers, she could just be the person that needs to be protected all the time and uselessly screaming and constantly in danger. I liked that she wasn't that stereotypical trope throughout the film.
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The score by Chris Bacon was fun and thrilling as the exploration continues and the action ramps up. It had slivers of inspiration from the Tron Legacy’s score at points and I loved the playful sound of wooden chimes in the scene with Mills and Koa playing. The action and tension was well shot and built up in the film. I had fun with this film over all and yes it may be formulaic, predictable and felt more like a survival video game at times, but I enjoyed that. It depicts the dinosaurs in the film as the main threat better than the last 3 films in a another dino-centric franchise and that's a fact. In the end, its a great matinee film that you can enjoy with a big bucket of popcorn. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!
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the-mothmaam · 1 year ago
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In a way it's everything I ever wanted
Jessica says I didn't support her hopes, dreams, career, so on, so forth. I supported her for so long, gave up so much to do so. Then I asked for help. And that interfered with her schedule. I was over exerting myself and losing my sanity doing it. Does she not see that her "hopes and dreams" killed my hopes for a simple, stress-free life. I don't think she does. She's sees it as being particular.
For so many years, all I wanted was a life where me and my spouse got to come home at the end of the day and unwind from the stress of work. But when I had to pick up so many of her responsibilities that bacame something I was never going to be able to have.
For so many years I kept putting my dreams and desires on the backburner for her. I thought someday she would do the same for me, especially when my requests were so much more banal and benefited us both. I guess she didn't want that life. I guess she strives in stress and wants more of it.
So now I don't have to go anywhere, or do anything, or take care of anyone except myself and the dogs. So in a way, I got everything I ended up wanting... except for the spouse. And somehow my life feel hollow with out that part.
The stress was killing me. And now. Now I get to live alone and in solitude. What kind of shitty decision is that?
She says I made her feel small. She doesn't see that I would have given anything to be small in her eyes. I felt non-existent, forgotten about, discarded, and unwanted. All the things we wanted out of life kept getting pushed further and further into the future. She wanted kids, I would have given her kids if it was that or this.
Not in my wildest dreams would I have guessed she would want to excise me from her life. Things hadn't been great for a whle. But I would give anything to just have that friendship back.
Guess I've got settle with everything else. In many ways, my life is much easier now. Instead of stress I've traded up for anxiety. I wish there had baan another way. A way for her to hear me, and for her to be heard. But she was never going to hear me. It was never about us to her. It was about getting what she wanted or needed out of another person.
I sat there and watched my life slip by me while I tended the home-fires for her, thinking... someday she'll come home to me. Someday we'll really be together.
Someday never comes though does it? And she was never interested in helping me fulfill my dreams, that's for sure. She spoke a good game, but every time I needed her she flaked out, forgot, came up with a better idea, or devalued me. Why do I want that back?
I don't. I want her to come back and see the pain I was in before my needs ever started making her feel small. But that's not going to happen. I was addicted to her. And it's just going to be a very long road back to being "clean."
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awkwarddystopianwarlord · 1 year ago
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Aspiring to be Broken Better
I don’t know if this was more common for me, but I was often given advice around having “friends that are very motivated, with goals and plans, who inspire you to be passionate and productive”. I don’t really have a problem with that advice, to an extent. I think it works well for people with functional brains and bodies. I don’t think it works as well for people like me. 
It’s not nearly as possible for me to be “lifted up by motivational people” because I don’t just lack motivation. That’s why I like being around others in similar conditions to me. I don’t want to be around those who I should aspire to be like, I want to be around those who understand me as me. With all my flaws and faults and fights, I want my friends to see that little of those is by choice. I don’t want to be pushed to do something when I’m “not feeling it” because it’s not that simple. 
I’ve conversed a lot with my friends about how our futures look, from relationships to jobs. There’s a shared fear amongst us that whomever we end up with won’t fully comprehend why we exist the way we do. Why can we only do two chores in a day? Why can we only work thrice a week? Why is making dinner or showering or getting out of bed after fourteen hours such a difficult thing? People like us know the answers, but those outside likely cannot even fathom them. We can see a person's character beyond the weird requirements of disability. It would be nice if everyone could do that, but we don’t live in that kind of world. 
Obviously, being dragged down by those close to you is no good, regardless of how able you are. I still seek friends that keep me afloat and I try to return the favor. It’s still important to be supported and pushed and guided. What is really needed on top of that though, is the relatability. My friend group may look silly and lazy and somewhat useless on the outside. It may be looked down upon that most of us live with our parents as adults or that only a few can work a full time job or that some can’t even take on university. But inside that group, we are warriors on an outnumbered and outmatched side constantly fighting a losing war that we were drafted into. We are absolute champions for just being alive each day because even that often seems to be asking too much. Against all odds, we all graduated high school, some have moved onto post secondary, some work normal people jobs, some know how to drive, some have lived on their own. And we all know how impressive every one of those accomplishments are because we know the struggles we each battle. That’s what’s so important about having friends that embrace you first and lift you up second. 
If I was constantly around successful people, I would not feel inspired, I would feel like a failure. Hell, I already felt that at my grandfather’s funeral when I turned out to be the most unaccomplished cousin. And no, I didn’t go back home to try and become a more impressive person. I’m still the same, because that’s all I’m capable of. It’s just depressing to see how well everyone around you is doing and knowing you can’t follow in their footsteps for a thousand reasons no one will really validate. Motivation and inspiration and passion are good when tailored to the one they are targeting. The thing is, I just don’t see a lot of diverse tailoring. I’ve written a few logs focused on appreciating the small victories since I’ve noticed an absence around that mindset, especially when it comes to disabled folks, and even more so for folks with invisible disabilities. We need less grand ventures to strive for and more tame journeys. 
I cannot stress this enough, we should not strive to be great, but to be good. That is basically the most people like me are capable of. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be good. Good, in a way for us broken individuals, is great. It’s such a fantasy for most of us to feel “good”, not “bad” or “okay” or “meh”. Good. it’s a state slightly above neutral and a wee bit into the positive category. It’s where we can hoist each other up to and where we don’t feel shame if we aren’t there yet but others are. It’s attainable for everyone and that is a special and beautiful thing.
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mbti-notes · 4 years ago
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hi i’m an istj. i fear the problem im going to describe is resolved by being more Te proactive and taking on more leader responsibilities and failing. just typing that out makes me feel burned out and miserable. anyway i get involved with groups that align with my values to get things done but it always feels like i somehow join things that aren’t as efficient as i’d want them to be or stagnate. at the same time that i have strong opinions about what to do i resent having to take on more responsibility to enact it. i want to be part of an established, moral, process/group but it seems like everything is in flux all the time. just making sure: is this Te-Ne dysfunction ?
Your question is about type development. An important aspect of type development is understanding the weaknesses and flaws of your type, in terms of the ways that your type tends to misuse functions. You seem to believe that your problem boils down to a simple lack of desire to lead in group situations (weak Te?), but it probably goes far deeper than that.
Si-Ne problems often manifest as a general aversion to change, specifically, unwillingness to change how one looks at a situation, which would then significantly alter one's approach to it. Imbalance between Si and Ne becomes a very unhealthy stubbornness when one is also prone to Si-Fi loop that thinks in terms of pure absolutes. In essence, you believe what you believe and you want what you want, and nothing and nobody can break through that mental wall. Perhaps not even you.
Auxiliary development is meant to help with Si extremes and Si-Fi loop stubbornness by making you care more about empirical facts (Te) than your frustration (Fi). It isn't always easy to develop the auxiliary function when you come to believe that it interferes with what makes Si feel most comfortable (e.g. "just typing that out makes me feel burned out and miserable"). If using the auxiliary function feels so "tiring", it doesn't mean that you should avoid using it. Quite the contrary. It's an indication that you haven't yet learned to use it properly, which means further development is necessary.
Te wants efficiency, that much is true. However, what separates immature Te from mature Te is how exactly one conceptualizes "efficiency". When Te is immature, one has a very rudimentary understanding of how to be efficient. For example, one is likely to believe that efficiency is achieved through assertiveness or even brute force, i.e., "making" things happen despite all the obstacles in the way. Is it any wonder that using Te feels tiring, then? You're essentially forcing yourself to swim against the current. Si doms are painfully aware that their energy is finite, so they quickly run out of steam.
However, Te isn't really about mustering up energy. This is not what makes TJs smart, strong, and formidable. Mature Te conceptualizes efficiency as reducing the amount of energy required whenever possible, which is why they have a lot of energy to take on very heavy workloads - some people call it "working smart". This is done through facing the empirical facts of a situation head on and learning to work closely with them, which makes it far easier to make them work in your favor.
Your problem requires a two pronged attack:
Are you able to change how you look at situations in order to improve your approach (to address Si-Ne imbalance)?
Are you able to face the empirical facts of the situation and work with them rather than against them (to develop better use of Te)?
Wanting to be part of a process/group that aligns with your values in order to enact some good in the world is an admirable thing to strive for. Presumably, the other people involved in the group have the same sense of mission, otherwise, they wouldn't have joined. However, what you fail to take into account is that people aren't generally single-minded.
Human beings are complex because they are motivated by a multitude of factors, whether they realize it or not. They are full of psychological conflicts, contradictory desires, irrational impulses, old baggage, and unconscious bad habits. And when you bring people together, all that stuff comes out and creates complicated entanglements. A "group" only becomes a "team" when it is able to overcome those psychological obstacles together, and it can be a very long process of learning how to maximize strengths and mitigate weaknesses in every individual member. That's why a lot of groups simply fall apart. While your intention to join the group seems simple and straightforward (because Si-Te is admirable in its ability to keep things simple and straightforward), other people's intentions might not be so simple. If you fail to take into account the irrational aspects of human nature, you will cause yourself needless suffering.
Your frustration with people is likely a manifestation of your unrealistic expectations of them. Perhaps you aren't able to understand people who don't resemble you, let alone work with them. And you will certainly be doomed to fail if the only way Te knows to deal with individual differences is to force everyone to become more like you. That's an impossible task, not because it requires the energy of a thousand suns as you assume, but because you're choosing to fight against reality. Mature Te would advise that you should first face down the empirical facts of how people operate if you hope to discover the most effective way to influence them. Your repeated experience of feeling disenchanted with groups tells you that you're missing an important piece of knowledge about groups and how they operate.
I'll give you a very simple example from my own life. I used to gather with a group of 30-50 people once a week to conduct planned discussions. The discussions never really started on time despite everyone being in their seats because people weren't focused enough at the start of the session. There was often whispering and sidetalking and such that would go on for about half an hour before the room felt settled and focused.
One method of addressing the problem arose organically. Whoever was the main speaker simply started shushing people and it became a thing. Sometimes, it would even escalate to calling people out, like a teacher scolding a student in a classroom. This definitely made the social atmosphere less inviting and more tense. Sure, people would shut up after being called out, but they became less focused due to seething with resentment. Power struggles aren't great for group morale, especially if it's supposed to be a group of equals coming together for a common cause.
It all sounds quite childish, but these kinds of judgments are useless. You can call people childish, inefficient, incompetent, etc etc, but it doesn't solve the problem. And, worse, being judgmental blocks you from understanding people better and working with them. Perhaps an ISTJ would see this as a "mess", an "inefficiency" that wastes time, and evidence of bad character when people break the rules.
However, if you change the way you look at the situation, you might not be so quick to make such judgments. Actually, it's kind of weird for a bunch of people who know each other well to enter a room and immediately sit down quietly. Humans have a natural tendency to socialize as a way to strengthen interpersonal bonds. Isn't group cohesiveness a good thing, since it encourages better cooperation? If you are able to see the benefits of their chatty behavior and how it contributes to group cohesiveness, then instead of fighting against it, you would think of ways to harness it.
The real problem wasn't inefficiency; inefficiency was merely the symptom. The more primary problem was that a lot of people joined the group not just to "get things done", but also to make friends. The structure of the event denied them from fulfilling that important need and then they were more likely to act out. This problem was discovered when people had a chance to talk about what was frustrating them, which meant that the group had to make space to conduct some uncomfortable conversations.
To address the problem, the group eventually decided that the first 15 minutes would be devoted to socializing and allowing people to catch up, with the explicit promise to get down to business when the time was up. Some people brought drinks, others brought snacks. Some even showed up early to have more time to socialize. It enlivened people and enriched their relationships. Being "officially" allowed to get the chattiness out of their system, they were better able to sit down and focus on the planned agenda. The meeting felt like fun rather than a chore. And if you're interested in a cause, don't you want to recruit more people to support it? Making things more fun is one good way to attract support. You can look at it as wasting 15 minutes OR you can look at it as a 15 minute investment.
Solutions to human problems require:
cognitive empathy: figuring out what's really going on inside people's heads (in Te terms it means working only with the empirical facts of the situation, rather than indulging negative Fi judgments)
strategy: taking the time to work with people and figuring out the best way to help them get over obstacles (in Te terms it means investing energy early and wisely to maximize your returns later, rather than putting effort into the wrong places or only stepping in to tackle mere symptoms of the problem)
creativity: harnessing natural human tendencies to produce something useful or worthwhile (in Te terms in means taking what's already there and transforming it into a NET positive, rather than getting too fixated on every little negative detail and losing sight of the bigger picture)
Te can be a great function for dealing with human problems as long as you overcome the immature aspects of it, such as impatience, bluntness, or inflexibility. Every person is unique, so every group is different. Let go of the idea that there is only one way to approach a problem/conflict and you will start to be more creative in your approach. By accepting the fact that things are always in flux and using empirical evidence to understand and predict how change works, TJs become much more effective and efficient at everything they do. When it comes to people, meeting someone different from you is an opportunity to learn how to deal with that kind of person. The more knowledge you have of human psychology under your belt, the better you get at dealing with people's weird or negative tendencies. If a strategy works, use it again. If it doesn't work, adjust it to fit their psychology better.
In your situation, you see the problem as people being inefficient, so your inclination is to step forward and do something to "make" them more efficient. Humans aren't built with the prime directive to be efficient. They're not machines. Their psychology is messy, so trying to force them to behave like a machine is to force them to go against their psychology. In other words, you're choosing the least efficient approach. The more efficient approach, though it requires more intelligent thinking on your part (you want to become more intelligent, right?), is to properly understand the more primary problem of what's really causing them to be so inefficient in the first place. That is the way to discover the right strategy. If you are able to target those obstacles at the very root, efficiency improves more naturally.
Oftentimes, working smart doesn't require you to step up and be THE leader for everyone. As an introvert, it's probably more comfortable for you to work behind the scenes to talk to people, get a better idea of what they need and/or what problems they're experiencing, and incrementally remove the obstacles that are preventing them from focusing on what they should be focused on. You can't fix everything all at once, so just do what you can to fix what you are able to fix at any given point in time. It's a process and some progress is better than no progress.
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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago
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The Gentle Giant's Breaking Point (Shoji x Reader)
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Art credit: @tonerukun​
Requested by: @/smol_angry_rabbit on wattpad
Aged-Up!AU
Warnings: explicit smut, size kink, dirty talk, hickeys, cursing, being overpowered and completely dominated, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, tender aftercare and soft confession
Words: 6.4k
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In downtown Musutafu, Shoji, Tokoyami and Ojiro were wandering around the city packed with people on a bright, sunny day. A gentle breeze blew by, swirling around the hundreds of people who decided to get some fresh air for the first time in weeks.
The second the weather warmed up, food stalls and all sorts of vendors were back on the streets. Mouthwatering scents of sesame soba, senbei and taiyaki curled deliciously into the air and wafted over to everyone within the vicinity, enticing them over to buy the scrumptious street food.
At the first sight of spring, the students of UA scattered, all eager to spend their off day outside.
Kaminari, Bakugou, Kirishima and Ashido all went to the pool, the rest of Class 1-A following in a slow trickle.
It first was Hagakure who wanted to tag along, then Uraraka, then reluctantly Jirou followed by the rest of the girls.
Midoriya sheepishly asked if he could come along too, Todoroki following suit since he'd rather be anywhere than at an empty dorm and end up having to go home to his father.
Mineta was only allowed to come with Sero's tape restricting his hands and covering his eyes. He complained the whole way there that it was unfair but no one paid any attention to him.
Shoji let his arms fall to his sides as he strolled around downtown, following Tokoyami.
He hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere, preferring to stay in the dorms. He didn't know when was the last time where it had actually been quiet. Not since before they moved in.
He didn't really have any complaints about his classmates. If anything, he was rather happy to live in a dormitory. It meant he got to see a lot more of you.
You were best friends with him, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time, just like him.
Maybe that's why you got along so well.
Shoji never tried to bother you but it was inevitable when the last class of the day would be dismissed and everyone paired off or huddled up in their groups to talk about anything and everything. He would just be at his desk, pulling out a book or getting started on his homework so he didn't have to worry about it later and you would come over, plop yourself down in the empty desk next to him and start reading a book without a word.
He didn't mind. He rather liked your company. It was quiet. It was nice.
He was going to ask you if you wanted to come with him, Tokoyami and Ojiro today but you were gone when he woke up. At least he had your number and he messaged you to make sure you were okay.
You responded back pretty quickly that everything was fine, you just had to take care of something first and then you'd meet them at the beach.
Shoji thought nothing of it. So when Ojiro asked if he wanted to come along with them downtown because Tokoyami needed to pick up more art supplies before their next class, he readily agreed.
He honestly didn't expect to see you there, let alone run into you. Literally.
You panted, rounding the corner, your eyes round with fear as adrenaline pumped through your veins. But you weren't watching where you were going.
Crashing into someone's very solid chest, your force knocked them over, sending the two of you toppling over instantly.
Springing up, you quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry!!"
All else blanked from your head as you saw who it was you exactly landed on and your jaw dropped open.
"Shoji?!"
Suppressing a groan, he sat up, encircling your waist carefully to ensure you wouldn't fall.
His brow furrowed in confusion as he helped the two of you up into a standing position, completely ignoring Ojiro and Tokoyami's questioning stares. "What are you doing?"
You opened your mouth to answer him when all of the sudden, you were hit by a blinding light.
Various enraged cries echoed from the alley you had just rushed out of.
"Get back here!!!"
"Shoot." You muttered under your breath. "My paralysis wore off."
"You're using your quirk?!" Ojiro exclaimed in shock. "You know that's against the rules!!!"
You ushered everybody into the nearest store hastily, hiding behind All Might merchandise to keep out of sight. "You want to lecture me now or after we call the police?"
While Tokoyami dialed for the local police, Shoji shifted closer to you, using his dupli-arms to hide you from view.
"Who are they?" He asked you.
He knew you weren't the type to go around causing trouble. If you had used your quirk, it had to be because you were cornered with no way out. He knew you.
And judging by that foreign, hesitant look in your eyes, you knew it, too.
"It's nothing, I'm fine." You mumbled under your breath, refusing to look at him.
Shoji didn't say anything else on the matter, dropping it entirely when a shadow passed over him.
You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath as the men searched for you, your breath hitching when Shoji's grip around you tightened protectively. Too many times you had imagined his arms around you but this was a scenario you didn't exactly picture.
The sirens wailing outside had you relaxing the tiniest bit, the rest of the tension leaving your body as the police arrested the three men using their quirks to create destruction.
Shoji didn't let you go quite yet though. Not until he was sure every last one of them left.
Pulling back, he allowed you to slip out of his arms. And that's when he saw it.
The blood.
The cut on your cheek was smeared with crimson and he questioned how he didn't notice that sooner.
Cradling your cheek, he angled your face, his jaw ticking as he got a better look at your injury.
"Y/N."
You gulped as he used your first name without any honorific. You knew he meant business and your heart fluttered at how much he seemed to care for you in that moment.
You shoved down your feelings, forcing yourself to breathe normally, dreading that he would notice how nervous you were.
It wasn't that you really had anything to be anxious about, you knew Shoji would never judge you for any reason. Kind-hearted despite how often he had gotten teased when he was younger, he never let it affect him in any way other than pushing him towards his best self.
You always admired that about it.
Shoji was such a gentle giant and you were one of the few he told about his past and what ultimately led him to striving to become a hero.
Which is why you were so caught off guard by the anger simmering beneath the surface of his eyes as he tended to the abrasion on your cheek.
The officers contained the situation quickly, arresting those that were causing chaos. The same gang of boys who were responsible for your injuries. Tokoyami and Ojiro filed out of your makeshift hiding place first, reporting what you had seen before Shoji helped you up and they turned your attention to you.
All three of their expressions changed from quelled worry to disbelief as you denied all allegations they had clearly made against you.
Still, the police officers couldn't go against it if you didn't even admit to it but brought the boys down to the station for processing. They would be able to fit the pieces together later once the camera footage of the convenience store was recovered. Until then, they let you go.
After you refused medical treatment when the police arrived on the scene, absolutely hating hospitals, you trekked back to the dormitory to sort out your injuries.
They were rather mild and you weren't worried about it at all. The hero-in-training hovering over you though, said otherwise.
You sat on one of the many couches in the common area of Heights Alliance so that he could patch you up. It was a good thing that the dorms were empty since everyone was gone for the rare off day that they got.
Shoji had ushered Ojiro and Tokoyami to go on without him to meet up with the rest of their class at the beach, promising that he would look after you and make sure that you didn't actually need a hospital.
But you also thought it was to make sure you weren't going to do anything reckless again.
He had already scolded you for not taking your wounds seriously enough and insisted on treating them, which was a bit weird because he never was one for insisting on anything unless he felt strongly enough about it.
The atmosphere was tense as he put away the rest of the medical supplies, settling for a simple butterfly closure after he cleaned the area.
Now, he was staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Heat flooded to your lower regions no matter how hard you tried to stop it. It was clear that he was frustrated, borderline angry and upset with you for reasons unclear to you but hope kindled in your heart.
There was no way he liked you like that. He never said anything about it before.
Regardless, no one should look that good while they were enraged. The silent fury simmering beneath the surface of his being was too good of a look on him.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Shoji questioned, peeling off his mask and revealed a deep-seated frown etched on his face.
Your breath caught in your throat. No matter how many times you saw his face, it never failed to take your breath away and stop time completely.
He was beautiful.
"I-I—" You stammered, at a loss for words due to his vulnerability in front of you. He clearly trusted you a great deal. You wanted to return the gesture.
Your heart rate spiked in nervousness and you swallowed hard.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your voice got quieter and more solemn as you told him about these people who had been bullying your little brother. Your parents weren't in the picture, and since your aunt, who had taken the two of you in, didn't care much other than making sure you were fed and attending school, you knew you couldn't depend on her for help.
You had been bullied too, something you told your brother the second you walked in one weekend and he burst into tears. You felt horrible. At UA, you were too far away to protect him, but you promised you'd do something about it.
Logically, you knew you should've gone to the authorities. But you were just so blinded by rage and hell bent on revenge for these boys who had struck him across the face and punched him in the eye more than once that you weren't going to let it go on for a second longer.
Shoji was silent when you finished. You played with your fingers in your lap, unsure of what to do. Maybe you talked too much.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Your head snapped up and you gaped. You didn't have an answer for him.
Shoji sighed and his eyes saddened. "You can rely on me, on our friends. We would have helped you."
You looked back down, his gaze too intense for you to hold. He was staring at you too earnestly and you felt the hurt that resonated within him at the actions you didn't take to reach out towards him.
"I know." You whispered. "But I didn't want any of you to get involved."
A discontented noise emitted from the back of his throat and Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line, clearly disagreeing with you but not voicing it.
The silence turned uncomfortable and you shifted in place, discreetly rubbing your thighs together as a shiver passed through your body.
Your eyes widened as he draped his shawl over you. You gulped as Shoji bulking form loomed over you, your heart now beating faster for another reason entirely.
"S-Shoji?!"
"Mezo..." He murmured. "We're alone. You can call me Mezo."
This wasn't anything new, you had already been comfortable enough to call him by his given name when the two of you were on your own but this was the first time he had requested you to say it before you got a chance to speak it.
He beat you to the punch. How unlike him.
You blushed, arching your back into his touch as he gripped your waist and drew you close to him to warm you up, heat flooding to your lower regions without permission at his low voice. "Mezo."
He groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck at how intimate his name sounded when it fell from your lips. Physical affection wasn't rare between you two, but it largely remained platonic.
Until now. He couldn't suppress it any longer.
Capturing your lips in a heated kiss, he moved over you, unable to stop himself from pinning you to the couch.
"Ahh~" You moaned as he detached himself from your lips, keening as he continued down, pushing his jacket out of the way for better access to your neck. You weren't against this, but it was going too fast. You wanted him to slow down so that you could at least see him. "M-Mezo, w-wait..."
Stifling a groan, he reluctantly parted from your skin, catching your gaze.
Worried he had made you uncomfortable, he questioned, "Do you not want this?"
After you shook your head so violently that he was surprised you didn't knock into anything, he raised an eyebrow when you didn't express anything else.
"Then what's wrong?" Shoji asked lowly, voice gravelly and giving away just how much of an effect you had on him.
You bit your lip shyly at how you probably looked. Spread out for him, flushed to the core and panting. Your mind was racing. He had kissed you.
"S-Someone could walk in," You objected, stammering as you were only half aware that you guys were in the common area. "Don't you think we should— holy shit!!"
While you were protesting, he took the opportunity to latch onto the sweet spot under your neck, sucking harshly.
You couldn't help but whimper, your hands splayed against his broad chest as he continued to paint your skin with splotches of purple and pink.
"Mezo, come on, we should— eep!!"
Fed up with your objections as it hindered his passionate onslaught to your supple skin, Shoji hooked your legs around his waist, his huge hands cupping your ass as he practically sprinted to his room.
This time, your lips descended onto his, connecting the two of you together all the way there. You rocked against his hard-on pressed in between your bodies, moaning into his mouth as your core throbbed with need.
A growl ripped from the back of his throat as you did, and he leaned down to lay you on his bed, never separating himself from you for a second.
Cupping his face with both of your hands, you parted your lips, letting him explore your hot cavern. He slotted his body between your hips.
The two of you groaned in tandem as one of your hands slithered down to cup the stiff bulge and you whimpered when he pressed his knee against your clothed core. The pressure made slick pool in your panties and caused it to stick uncomfortably to your wet folds.
"Y/N..." He breathed shakily, his eyes clouded, giving away how much you affected him. "Can I—"
"Yes, please." You cut him off, unable to wait a second longer. "Please, Mezo, fuck me?"
Shoji's eyes widened and his cock got impossibly harder, straining against the confinements of his pants as he heard you beg for him. Beg for his cock to fill you up.
Fuck, that was so hot.
Your core was already throbbing with the need to have him inside of you. If he didn't do something soon you were sure you were going to combust.
Seeing his hesitancy as his fingers danced along the waistband of your pants, you quickly got tired of waiting and undressed by yourself, throwing your clothes in an uncaring heap onto the floor.
His eyes grew round in awe as your bare skin, breasts and that special place between your legs was revealed for him to freely drink in as you laid out before him, not an ounce of shame coloring your cheeks, save for the pink tips of your ears.
Cute.
Your back arched as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his big hands kneading the soft flesh, going harder when your response spurred him on. You whined as he flicked the pebbled tit, crying out as he bit down on it gently, a shock shooting through your system.
Shoji was studying every single one of your reactions to his touch, drinking it up as his eyes devoured you with barely restrained hunger.
"So... you like to be treated roughly..." He mused as he pulled upwards, your body following his touch as he let go of your breasts abruptly. "That's very interesting."
You whimpered in protest but that faded as he took his shirt off, the defined and sculpted muscle enough to make you forget what you were about to complain about. He was ripped, his torso flexing powerfully as he threw his shirt in the direction of the growing pile of clothes.
Licking your lips, you pulled him down to his level as he hastily undid the button of his pants, shoving it just past his hips so that his cock sprang free.
Your jaw dropped. He wasn't wearing underwear?!
Aside from that, he was fucking huge. How was even going to fit inside of you?!
You weren't given any time to dwell on his size as a finger probed your entrance. Your hands shot down to his wrist instinctively.
"M-Mezo, I'm s-sensitive—!!"
You cut off with a cry as he slipped it in, stretching you out.
Shoji closed his eyes, trying to restrain himself but you were just so hot and tight, pulsing around his finger like nothing else he ever felt.
"Is it too much?" He asked caringly, kissing you to ease you through it. You were unbelievable tight, he could already feel you clenching down on his single digit. "Do you want to stop?"
If your mind wasn't clouded with lust, you would've picked up on the subtle teasing lilt of his voice, as though he already knew what you were going to say.
"No..." You protested, squeezing your eyes shut, unknowingly doing exactly what he expected.
You could take it. You wanted him to make you take it.
Your eyes widened as he cursed behind you and that was when you realized that you said that last part out loud.
Oops. You were really in for it now.
You gasped in surprise as his hands released your wrists, but it was only temporary as he hooked your legs around his waist before he was immobilizing you again. Struggling slightly even though you were clearly overpowered, you begged for him to let you touch him before you died but he refused, shutting you up with a passionate kiss that stole your breath away.
Your body lurched and you wailed as he finally sank into your cunt, moaning and panting like a dog in heat as he sheathed his massive member all the way inside of your spasming channel.
A broken whimper of his name fell from your lips as his hips finally pressed flush against your ass, mewling as his balls rested against your puckered hole. You buried your face into his neck, ashamed of your reaction. He had barely done anything yet and already you felt like you were on the brink of cumming.
"Mezo—" You warned breathlessly, mouth gaping at the sheer size of him, your hole struggling to adjust. "Ngh!!"
Shoji braced himself up on his forearms, swearing under his breath as you clamped down around him. His fingers laced with yours from where he was still pinning your arms over your head, bending down to kiss you in order to distract you from the stretch.
You were hot, tight, and squeezing him with so much force, he already felt like he was going to cum. Stuttering out your name, he hissed as you clenched around him again.
"Y-Y/N, stop— don't do that." He begged, one of his hands fisting in your hair as he held onto his last thread of restraint while you adjusted to his size.
"C-Can't help it, Mezo." You whimpered, scratching his broad back as you fought the urge to arch your hips, knowing that was just going to encourage him to move before you were ready. "You... You're so big."
He had never prided himself on things like this, by how much he received praise or compliments from others so that he didn't have to question the authenticity of it, preferring most times to simply acknowledge it then let it go so that it didn't go to his head.
But he couldn't help it with you. There was something about the way you said it that ignited a flame of passion inside of him and it could not be put out.
Your nails dug into his back and a moan ripped from your throat as you felt him swell inside of you, catching on your walls without even trying.
"M-Mezo?!" You cried out in shock. "Why are you getting, oh fuck—"
A guttural groan sounded in the empty space and he let go of you, straightening up.
"You're so tight and warm." Shoji moaned, his left hand fisting the sheets as he gave a few experimental rolls of his hips, the other caressing your hip while his eyes fixated on where the two of you were joined together. "You feel like heaven, Y/N."
You squeaked in mortification as he said that, clapping a hand over your mouth as he thrusted into you harder, unable to contain the sounds spilling out of your mouth any longer. He felt so good inside of you. Pulsing and hot, thick and hard, it was a wonder how you were delirious with pleasure on his cock.
"Fuck..." You hissed through clenched teeth, your eyes tightly screwed shut.
Shoji stilled instantly, worried he had hurt you. His eyes scanned over your flushed face in concern.
"Are you alright? Do you want to stop?" He asked quickly and would've pulled out of you if your legs didn't lock around his hips, preventing him from even thinking about it a second longer.
You desperately shook your head then yanked him down to your level.
"Go fast, Mezo, fuck me hard." You pleaded. "Please."
There was no time to feel embarrassed by the words that came out of your mouth as he obliged instantly. Stars blinded your vision and you arched into his touch as he fucked you with a vigor that wasn't present before.
Shoji slammed your wrists down above your head and he kissed you hard, all of it teeth and tongue as he licked away your whimpers before they could break the symphony of wet skin slapping against skin that broke through the still atmosphere of his room.
Both of you were glad everyone was gone for the day because with how much noise you were making, it was clear what was going on.
His lips glossed over your pulse point, licking and sucking at the flushed skin there, marking you once again.
You shivered at the sensation of having him pressed against you and yet still attending to you with the same care you had come to expect from him. Your best friend now turned lover. If this was going to be more than a one-time deal.
"Mezo!!" You cried out as he finally pulled away from your neck, satisfied with the purple that bloomed there.
Shoji's teeth sank into your shoulder as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick and sticky ropes of cum.
You whimpered as he emptied in your ripe cunt, his release setting off yours and the powerful shockwaves of your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. The copious amounts of his cum leaked out the instant he pulled out of you and your hole fluttered, no longer having his length to stuff you to the brim. You felt a bit sad now that you were left empty, and sat up, thinking that you guys were done.
How wrong you were.
You didn't have to look down to see that he was still hard as his cock pressed against your inner thigh the moment he kissed you again.
"Mezo?!" You shrieked, moaning wantonly against his lips as he moved over you once more. "How are you still hard?!"
He groaned, obviously in discomfort for having been denied even though he just came. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I need to cum again to make it go down."
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the sight of the leaking head and you moved to try and suck him off, wanting nothing more than the taste of him on your tongue as he shot his last load inside your mouth but he shook his head and stopped you short.
"You don't have to do that." Shoji said quickly, his cheeks flushing pink as he imagined you with your ass up as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock. Fuck, you'd look so good like that. But he had something else in mind.
Your eyes had glazed over a long time ago from the pleasure that he delivered to your system.
"I want to." You implored, batting your eyes at him, pupils blown wide.
Shoji surged forward, kissing you harder than last time and you melted into his touch. Any other time, he wouldn't fight you on it. But he didn't want to make you work any harder, even if it looked like you really wanted to suck him off. For now, he was content just to see you like this.
Spread out in front of him for only his eyes to see.
"Can you lay like this, Y/N?" He asked, gently maneuvering you onto your tummy and perking your rear up as a hand trailed down your spine to get you into the position he wanted to see you in. "I'll finish quickly."
You moaned quietly, still turned on and horny from before. Even though he had satisfied you so completely, there was a part of you that still longed to have him again.
You wanted him to stuff his cock in you like this.
So you couldn't help but mess with him a bit as the slick sounds of him jerking himself off started and breathy moans fell from his lips. You could go another round for him.
Poking out your ass a bit more, you smiled to yourself as his breath hitched and his movements stuttered. Swaying it from side to side purposefully to entice him, you were shocked when it worked a little too well, bringing out the beast in the tame boy that was your best friend.
Your eyes shot open and your jaw dropped open in a soundless cry as he pushed into you without warning, sinking his fat cock balls-deep into your pussy still quivering with the aftershocks of your last orgasm.
"Mezo!! Ahhh—" You cried out, caught off guard but unbelievably turned on so much that it filled you with shame.
A messy mixture of your juices and his thick cum pushed out of you as he rammed into you all the way to the hilt and all the oxygen disappeared from your lungs.
The sloppy sounds of your cunt making as he fucked you into his bed had you gripping onto his pillow and slamming it against your face to curb all the noises that were tearing from your throat.
It was yanked out of your grasp a second later.
"Don't hide, let me hear you." Shoji begged, unable to help himself from shoving his cock into the deepest parts of your little cunny. You looked so pretty spread out underneath him like this, at his mercy entirely as he pinned you down. Your arousal ran down your thighs as he continued to fuck you, his fat cock stuffing your hole perfectly.
Like you were made for him.
He threw his head back, he redoubled his efforts to make you feel as good as your pussy was making him feel.
"You look so beautiful when you're taking my cock like this." Shoji whispered to himself in awe, disbelieving that his dream was finally coming true after all this time as he watched his length disappear into you over and over again, completely entranced. "Feels so good, hhgh—!!"
Your hole fluttered around his thick girth, struggling to take his size as he pumped in and out of you at an alarming speed.
Whining, you could do nothing else but take it as he pounded you raw and rough, his hips slapping into your ass with a vigor that blanked your mind and left you gasping at the sensation.
Your wrists, still pinned down by his hands as his duplicated gripped your hips for stability as he got you closer to that peak, strained against his strength as the pressure built up in your stomach. "Mezo...'m gonna... gonna—"
"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Cream your cunny on my cock?" Shoji murmured, reducing his thrusts to sharp ruts, focusing all his attention on that little spot that made you see stars. "C'mon, give me one more. I need it."
That did it.
Your orgasm washed over you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body trembling violently as he continued to push your limits, pumping in and out of you erratically before emptying himself into you with a deep groan.
Face flushed and eyes glassy, stilling rolling back from the throws of the intensity of your orgasm, you panted, twisting back to meet him in a kiss much softer and more loving than all the previous ones.
Now that his pent up frustration had been dealt with in the best possible way, he pulled out of you with a soft grunt, kissing you wordlessly when you whined at the loss of him.
Shoji hushed you softly as he cleaned the mess dripping out of you with a warm washcloth, urging you to go to the bathroom.
You couldn't stand up though, lacking the strength after that very thorough dicking down he gave you. Legs like jelly, you would've collapsed to the floor if he didn't catch you in time, pulling you up to his chest to carry you the rest of the way.
You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he took care of you, seeing as how all your energy was depleted. Slapping his chest halfheartedly in embarrassment as he chuckled when you jolted as he cleaned the sore but achingly sensitive bud between your legs.
Shoji nudged your ear with his nose, murmuring softly. "Are you alright?"
You hummed, eyelids heavy as you started to drift off.
He kissed the top of your head before bringing you back to bed so that you could take a nap. Somewhere between the walk from his bathroom to his bed, you stirred, arising from your light slumber only to be met with a concerned expression.
"Calm down, Mezo," You giggled, pecking him on the lips softly. "I'm good."
His shoulders slumped in relief. He was kind of worried he had broken you after a session like that. Scratching the back of his neck once you laid down, he hesitated before speaking.
"Don't worry me like that again. You're too reckless for your own good." He told you, anxiety resting heavy on his features.
You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively. "I don't know... That was a pretty good punishment if you ask me."
Shoji rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile played upon his lips. "I'm serious, Y/N."
Your smile disappeared and you nodded solemnly, sheepish now that you had been chastised.
"I know, I'm sorry." You apologized quietly, remorseful. You hadn't meant to worry him or any of them really. You honestly thought that you could handle it.
You had fought villains before, you thought you could tame a few punk kids who were bullying your little brother. You almost felt ashamed that they had managed to best you.
The initial idea was to capture them and report them to the authorities, since they were a part of a crew who liked to rob stores for fun, but the tables turned on you when they freely used their quirks on you.
Luckily, you had been able to dodge most of them, only sustaining minor damage from an attack you hadn't avoided in time.
Shoji knelt down by the bedside and your brow furrowed when he didn't climb under the covers with you.
"Mezo?" You squeaked when he engulfed you in a hug, all your insecurities melting away as his warmth flooded you.
He trembled as you said his name but otherwise didn't move. Instead, he mumbled something against your neck and you laughed.
"I can't quite hear you." You teased him, prying him away to get a good look at his eyes. They were swirling with an unknown emotion and you swallowed hard. "What's wrong?"
Shoji stared at you, his gaze boring into your soul as he took down all your walls you had built up around your heart to protect yourself with an ease that shocked you.
"Rely on me." He murmured, lacing his fingers with yours and gulping at how small your hands were compared to his. "I want you to rely on me like..."
You couldn't breathe. It sounded like...
"Like what?" You prompted breathlessly, not daring to hope that he was going to say what you so longed to hear from him.
His cheeks pinked and he turned away from you. "Nothing."
Your heart sank into your chest and you visibly deflated.
"Oh..." You said softly, expression saddening when he refused to look at you.
Gathering the sheets around you to cover your naked body, you suppressed a shiver as the cold air got through and you blindly reached around for your clothes on the floor.
Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line and he shook his head. Any other time, he would be there to help you but not now. Not when his mind was racing with the possibilities of what could go wrong if he confessed his true feelings for you right here and now.
It was overwhelming him and he felt overtaken by fear that you would reject him, destroying the close friendship you had.
But...
"Y/N."
You straightened up, fumbling with the sheet as it accidentally slipped. But you blushed when Shoji draped his shawl over you, his scent filling your nose and you tripped over your words, thoroughly flustered for some kind of explanation as to why you were reacting like you were back in your first year of high school.
"I like you."
You balked, jaw dropping open in shock.
Shoji actually jumped back, startled as you swore in front of him.
"You're kidding."
His brow furrowed in confusion and he crossed his arms. "No, I'm perfectly serious."
You shook your head. There was no way that he, the coolest, most respectable and kindest guy you have ever met and had the privilege of calling your best friend, liked you back.
But judging by that affronted look on his face, you might've jumped to conclusions too soon.
Warily, you approached him, abandoning the search for your clothes.
You hastily apologized. "I'm sorry, I guess it's hard to believe how someone like you would be interested in me."
Now in front of him, you had a chance to see how much he towered over you. It was different from when you would hang out in each other's rooms where he would crouch down on the floor or sit on a chair so that the height difference wasn't so obvious.
But you felt safe as he curled his arms around you tentatively, even though it was such a contrast to how he was fucking the brains out of you earlier.
"Well, I do." Shoji murmured into your hair as he brought you in for a hug, firm and unyielding in his feelings for you even though you had yet to say anything.
You hadn't said it back but you hadn't shot him down either. He didn't know if it was foolish to hope for a chance that you would want to be with him too, or perhaps, oh no, had he made you uncomfortable?
Maybe you weren't saying anything because you didn't know how to reject—
"I like you too." You mumbled into his chest.
This time, Shoji was the one to do a double take. "Y/N?!"
"Oh hush." You said, hiding your face from his frantic gaze so that he couldn't see how red your face was. Confessing feelings was exhausting and now you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with your new boyfriend.
Shoji's chest rumbled underneath your fingertips and just when you thought your face couldn't burn anymore out of embarrassment and shyness, he leaned back and tipped your chin up.
"I'm glad you return my feelings." He smiled, a pure smile that radiated the most wholesome level of happiness possible and your heart skipped a beat.
You found you mirrored his joy instinctively, it was contagious. And when he closed the distance to kiss you once more, it sealed a pact that would stay forever and could never be broken.
"I think I'll have to be more reckless from now on." You breathed when he finally pulled away and a small pout formed on his lips.
"Y/N..." Shoji warned, not finding your joke funny in the slightest.
You giggled, looping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tiptoes, booping his nose with yours. "I'm kidding, but I do think it was worth it."
He raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"
You grinned, a cheeky smile that told him he hadn't seen the last of your mischief.
"Because it finally got you to confess."
Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​
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evierena · 4 years ago
Text
The Brothers eavesdropping to MC accidentally confessing their undying love for them. Part 1.
INTRO
MC was having their monthly catch-up call with their best friend in the Human Realm. At first, their friend could not believe the situation MC was living, but after a few calls they had finally come to accept the whole "I was summoned to Hell, but it's called Devildom, and now I have to live with 7 hot demon brothers and they are actually kinda nice" situation (yeah, Levi would be proud of my naming skills). Anyhow, during this specific call MC was filling in their friend with the latest update on their newfound feelings for one of the brothers, not knowing that said brother was actually outside their room, eavesdropping! And then, their friend asks "What is it about him that you love so much?"
What did MC respond? How did that brother react and what did he do with that information? Well, let's see...
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Lucifer
- He was doing his nightly rounds, making sure everyone was in their room, and when he passed by your door he caught your laughter and he stopped for a second, just to absorb the sound and allow himself to relax a little. Then, out of the blue, he heard you saying: "I think I'm in love with him".
- Well, that was unexpected. He would never admit to anyone the way his heart skipped a beat for a moment there, and absolutely will never let you know that those simple words could stir such feelings within him.
- And then, with his demon senses, he heard another voice coming from your room. "Why? What is it about Lucifer that you love so much?"
- Now, for him, the world completely stopped moving, he put all of his demon hearing to work and capture every little sound around him, even his heart stopped and his blood froze in his veins to allow more silence around him.
- "He takes so much pride in his family, you know? In his position as the protector of his brothers and as the right hand of Diavolo, at first I thought that was it" you said, unaware of the petrified demon outside your door. "But now, I've come to love not just that. I love all the sides Lucifer has shown me, vulnerable, sick, angry, sad, stressed even murderous. He makes me feel motivated to be better, to strive for more, and I feel so proud knowing he trusts me that much. I just love him"
- After that, Lucifer's heart started beating like crazy in his chest, his blood running rampant through his body, and almost all reason escaped his mind. Almost.
- He managed to compose himself but he couldn't help the smug grin remaining in his face.
- Lucifer went back to his room after hearing your accidental confession, although he couldn't sleep thinking about his next move.
- For the following days he started to ampp up his game. He was always smiling at you, asking you to be by his side a little longer each time, lingering gloveless touches everywhere, he wanted to feel you and for you to feel him.
- You thought you were going crazy for sure, you didn't want to put your hopes up, but you couldn't help the throbbing sensation he provoked everytime he came a little closer a little longer, the flirty remarks, the intense stare and the knowing smile everytime you met his ruby gaze.
- So, finally, you went to his room in the night, determined to confess. And before all the courage you managed to gather escaped, you didn't even wait for him to completely open his door before spilling your heart out.
- "Lucifer, I'm in love with you!" you said closing your eyes, afraid of his reaction.
- But he lifted your chin to face him properly and you were welcomed with a smug smile and "I know" from his lips before he stole your breath in a deep heated kiss.
- In conclusion; after knowing you loved him, Lucifer intoxicated your mind with him until you confessed directly, so he could rely his own feelings to you.
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Mammon
- It's a bad habit of his to just barge into your room without announcing himself, however, after so many times of you begging for him to just say something before entering, he finally remembered.
- So, he stopped himself on his tracks before doing exactly that, and that was all it took for him to hear your conversation with your best friend.
- "You are a moronsexual, I'm telling you"
- The heck is that?
- Mammon was completely confused, who was a moronsexual? What is a moronsexual? Is that something he could sell? Now, he is interested and waiting for your answer.
- "Shut it, don't call him a moron, 'kay? Besides, I don't see any problem with being in love with Mammon"
- Whoa, whaaaat? Who is in love with Mammon?... Wait, no, Who wouldn't be in love with THE Great Mammon, right?
- Mammon pressed his ear against your door, thinking he could hear better that way, but really it just suffocated the noise, and then he remembered he could just tuned his hearing. He was also beet red by that moment, internally thanking that none of his brothers could see him like that, he would never hear the end of it.
- "But, really MC, what do you love about Mammon?"
- Mammon catched his breath abruptly, remaining as still as possible.
- "Well, I love him because he's Mammon, and that means that I'll never be bored with him, and that he'll always be there for me when I need him, that I can trust him with my soul and he would never let me down. I love him because he is so generous even when he pretends he isn't, he is so sweet and cute but also really cool, and he is a total tsundere but he has opened himself to me, and everything about him is so complex and simple at the same time, I just... I love Mammon"
- You, my sweet MC, have officially broke Mammon.
- All of his blood was in his face, his heart was going rampant, his mind absorbed your words but couldn't understand what they meant, he was both ecstatic and terrified.
- And since he stopped functioning, he didn't realize you were walking towards the door until you opened up to stumble upon a teary eyed, flushed and very embarrassed Avatar of Greed.
- You knew he listened, there was no other motive to his state.
- Mammon stared at you intensely, deeply and loving and your face blushed as furiously as his. You finished the call with your best friend in stuttered, barely comprehensible words, and started fidgeting under Mammon's gaze.
- "Mammie?"
- You see, his brain wasn't aware that he was staring at you like that, he was just marvelling at how beautiful and precious you were. He was remembering all of your conversations; the way you always stood up for him, how you were always smiling at him, and that you never degraded him at all. And when you said his name he snapped back to reality.
- Then, in a both usual and unusual Mammon way, he launched himself at your arms in a very tight hug. Like you were his lifeline, and let's be honest, maybe you were, but he was yours just as much.
- "I love ya' MC" he muttered next to your ears, causing you to hold onto him even more.
- "I love you more, Mammie"
- "Nah, I love ya' much much more"
- And now you were in a duel to see who loved the other more, that eventually led to admit that you both loved each other and that was enough.
- You both spend that night in your bed, simply enjoying the other's warmth, pouring your love to your heart's content.
- And if you ever think that he will be separated from you ever again, you are terribly mistaken.
- Not that you minded, tho.
- In conclusion; Mammon would not wait another second away from you after hearing that you also love him as much as he loves you.
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Leviathan
- Boy was going over to your room, to invite you play a new game he had just bought. As always, he had to take a second before knocking on your door to convince himself he wasn't being annoying.
- Then he listened to your rambling.
- "I feel so lightheaded when I'm with him, and I can't stop replaying everything on my mind when I'm alone, and I'm afraid he'll notice and be weirded out that a normie like me is head over heels for him"
- OMFF (oh my f***** father) what is this?? Is this like that time in "I accidentally eavesdropped on my normie best friend and discovered they're in love with me, how can I confess to them without being creepy?" (Ok, Levi would not be proud of my naming skills) no, no, no, waaaait, this could not be possibly be about him. Oh, no, you couldn't have possibly fallen for a yucky Otaku shut-in like him, there's no way... Right?
- "So, tell me, MC, what is it about this Leviathan that you love so much?"
- He was already sweating and trembling, but his heart definitely stopped for a concerning amount of time. If he wasn't a demon, he would most likely had already passed out right there and then.
- "I love how passionate he is, and how he always respects my privacy and he waits until I'm ready to talk, he doesn't pressure me into nothing, he gives me my space, I love how he can talk about what he likes so earnestly. I love that sparkle in his eyes when he's winning a difficult game and his razor focus when he is being really challenged by something. I feel so happy with Levi and I just want to make him see himself through my eyes so he could just stop belittle himself".
- Leviathan.exe has died. That's it.
- He literally passed out the moment those words came out of your mouth, so you heard a loud thud right outside and you found Levi face first on the floor.
- Nervousness is short to what you felt during the agonizing time he took to actually give any signs of being alive.
- When Levi woke up he didn't understand why was he laying in the floor of your room, but the moment his memories came flooding back he stand up and try to run away, his face a blushing mess.
- And as much as you wanted to stop him and apologize, you let him go, because he was clearly not ready for that conversation.
- So, a week passed and everyday you tried to contact him to no avail. Until you were finally done with playing hide and seek, you marched firmly (only in your mind 'coz you were shaking like a leaf) to his room and practically forced yourself in.
- The conversation went as you would think, stuttering, muttering, blushing messes both of you while confessing face to face your feelings for the other.
- And finally, after reassuring him, that yes, this is real, and yes you do love him, him, Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, not one of his brothers or anyone else but just HIM, he accepted your love.
- Levi gathered all of his very little confidence and went for a slight hug.
- In conclusion; this snek boy needs time, and a lot of reassurance to accept the truth and realize it's not a dream, you also love him.
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Satan
- He was trying to retrieve one of the books he had lend you to study for your classes, but just before knocking on your door, he thought to himself to better do it tomorrow, it was already late and you were probably getting ready to sleep.
- That is, until he heard your giggling on the other side.
- "But, tell me, what is it about Wrath that you love so much?"
- Satan was confused and intrigued, what's this conversation about? Obviously, something about him, so he's going to listen.
- "First of, he is not Wrath, I mean Satan is the Avatar of Wrath, but he is not just Wrath, at all. He is so much more than that, he is his own person with his own feelings and thoughts, even more so than we are, because he has lived for thousands of years. He knows so much about a lot of things that are completely beyond my comprehension, but he always manages to make them reachable for my limited mind. I love how he can go from being a pain in Lucifer's ass to a soft and doting cat dad, the way he loses himself into compelling detective novels. I got it bad for him"
- Satan was speechless. His brows raised almost up until his hairline.
- He felt a pleasant warmth spreading through his body, did you really thought of him that way?
- Oh, boy, was he blushing, he even brought a hand to his face to cover from any non existent prying eyes.
- He heard you shuffling around in your room, so he decided to retreat to his own, already planning his confession as he was walking away in the hallway.
- That night, Satan wrote you a poem, an essay and a ode to you. He tried to portray his feelings, but he also felt something was missing and he cracked his head all night searching for it. He redid everything over and over again, looking for more beautiful, deeper words to describe the extent to his love for you.
- However, Satan fell asleep on top of all the manuscripts and drabbles of his "failures", and the next morning guess who was asked to go and fetch the blond demon for breakfast?
- Ok, could've been anyone, but for the sake of this HC, it was you, ok?
- So, you went, and knocked, and waited, and called for him, and knocked again, but nothing. So you enter through his surprisingly unlocked door, and found him sound asleep. And it was such an endearing sight, you just couldn't force yourself to disturb him.
- However, you did tried to cover him with a blanket from his bed and obviously (this is also for the sake of this HC) he woke up at the feeling of foreign touch.
- When he saw you, it clicked on him the thing he was missing for his confession.
- Eye contact.
- Satan jumped to his feet, held your hands, and declared his love for you with a deep blush in his cheeks, a little stuttering in his words, but so much honesty and passion in his green eyes, you were lost.
- In conclusion, Satan would try to make a romantic confession but he would ultimately just convey his feelings in a heart melting, brain wrecking monologue, you can't do nothing but love him even more.
If there's any grammar or spelling mistake I apologize, english is not my first language, and I would appreciated if you could kindly point it out for me so I can get better
Thank you for reading.
Atte. Evie
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A/N: Part 2 is up! If you want to be tagged in it just ask me & I'll be delighted to.
Have a wonderful day/night and stay safe!
Tag list:
@anonymous-hq
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tommybaholland · 4 years ago
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what they’re insecure about in the relationship
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featuring: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, kaminari, shinso, amajiki and dabi
all these boys deserve love no matter what!! some fluff, some angst, some possible (dabi) manga spoilers..
midoriya is afraid that he’s not good enough for you. it’s that simple. he wants to be strong and the best hero he can be, as there was a time when he felt helpless and weak. it comes at a cost though when he puts himself through too much and ends up damaging himself more than he’s helped. his self-sacrificing tendencies are hard to give up, but he wants to focus more on you. he can’t stand seeing you cry when he’s hurt. it only makes him feel helpless all over again or like he’s the reason for your pain. but he doesn’t want to lie to you and promise that he’ll hold back next time. you have to hold him tight and make sure he knows that you appreciate everything he does for you or for others but it’s okay to slow down sometimes. he can still give everything even when it’s not 100 percent. nothing he does is without effort and that’s more than you could ever ask for. 
bakugo’s tough and prideful exterior never ceases, but he worries that he can be too rough with you sometimes. he feels like he should be treating you differently than he does others, like not yell as much. his biggest fear involves you leaving him for someone who’s more gentle but can still protect you, like kirishima. he’s not used to having so many feelings for someone. you drive him crazy in both the best and worst ways but he wouldn’t trade any of that for anything. he likes to surprise you with cuddles, just holding you peacefully while occasionally pressing kisses to your head. he makes you smile more than he thinks, so you try to return the favor. you always strive to beat him to the ‘i love you’ so he knows and can make damn sure that he doesn’t have to worry. 
todoroki isn’t overtly insecure, but the gears in his head really turn when he hears that he’s deemed ‘class 1A’s pretty boy.’ he doesn’t understand what makes him so special, especially in terms of physical appearance. he doesn’t like to feel insecure about his scar but it only reminds him of his strife and trauma. forget about being ‘pretty,’ how could you deal with someone who once held so much anger in their heart? you’re so wonderful to him but he never wants to take advantage of your kindness and worries that it’ll all be too much to handle one day. it hurts to hear how much his past tortures him so you invite him to get comfy in his favorite spot, with his head on your shoulder. you stroke his hair and rub his back as you remind him that he is more than his past; that he’s funny, kind, caring, beautiful. you will never have a reason to let him go because he’s everything you ever wanted. 
kirishima is always confident in himself and knows how to turn things around into the positives, so you’re shocked when he admits that he’s surprised that you’re still with him. he wants to be a better boyfriend to you because sometimes he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. sure, he’s manly but there’s always someone better, like bakugo: smarter, can use their quirk better, maybe even all around more manly. it breaks your heart to hear him have doubts because it’s totally the opposite so you like to tell him how wonderful he is to you. he gives you all his attention when he’s with you and makes you feel nothing but loved. you could never match it but you try to love on him with as many kisses and cuddles as he wishes. and he couldn’t ask for anyone better (or cuter) than you. you love spending time with him and would be happy to give him more if he wanted. 
kaminari feels he’s nothing special to you, especially when it comes to how much smarter you are than him. he’s at the bottom of the class, can’t use his quirk too much without frying his brain and therefore he just doesn’t deserve to be with someone as great as you. he’s afraid that you’ll grow so far apart that one day, you’ll be gone. he doesn’t want to drag you down. little does he know, you don’t care about how smart or dumb he is. he never ever fails to make you smile, even when you’re in the corner of your room crying your eyes out. he dotes on you, shows you so much love, like no one else has. you tell him you don’t want anyone else and he is more deserving of your love than anyone else. you actually like when he short circuits, because that’s your chance to take care of him and show him just how much he means to you. 
shinso questions your trust in him but then again, he’s never been in good standing with his own trust in others. they were almost afraid of him or avoided him because of his ‘villainous’ quirk. it’s not that he has doubts about you, but rather that he fears that he’ll do something that will scare or hurt you. loving him is different and while he loves your affections, you have to come at this with a different approach. you offer to let him brainwash you to show how much you trust him. he swore he would never do that to you but you reiterate that you know he’s not going to do anything he’d regret. you love him too much to watch him suffer in his head. afterwards you seal it with a kiss, printing all the love and passion you can convey with your lips on him. you physically feel him release all the tension, gifting you with a smile. shall i expand on this??
amajiki doesn’t strive to be manly like kirishima but he doesn’t want you to think that he’s a nervous, anxiety-ridden mess all the time. he wants to be cool and show you that he can protect you just as much as any ‘manly’ person out there. he knows you’re fine all on your own and that you can handle yourself. what worries him the most is that you’ll figure out that you don’t need him; he’s only a burden to you. but he’s so sweet that you can’t bare to watch him put so much pressure on himself. sure, he’s not always bold but he still has an amazing amount of courage when it comes down to protecting people. he truly amazes you every single day. although you love how shy he can be, that one day he kissed you on the lips, holding you impossibly close without any hesitation had your head spinning. you remind him that it’s moments like those that make you never want to let him go.
dabi just doesn’t understand your appeal to him, period. his burnt skin has to be held together by force, he coughs a lot and just generally looks weak. he can’t protect you without burning up inside, literally. looks aside, he’s done horrible things. he can’t rationalize how anyone could love him even after all the turmoil and destruction he’s caused. sometimes it makes him angry when he can’t figure out why you’re still there yet, he doesn’t want to let you go. he worries he’ll scare you off with his self-deprecation. he can’t fight how you feel for him and neither can you. yes, he has issues as result of a damning past but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worthy of love. he lets you hold him close to your chest as you tell him that you’re not afraid of him or anything that happens to him or you. he falls asleep to the sound of your heartbeat as you make sure he knows his persistence makes him strong, even when he feels weak. 
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*present mic voice* YEEEEEEAAAHHH ITS BNHA NIGHT!! send requests so we can keep the fun going
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deepseavibez · 3 years ago
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Blindspot || KTH
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-> Picture Source - Pinterest
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Blindspot [Taehyung x Reader]
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Genre - Best Friend; Fear of the Future; Nighttime Memories; Mixed Feelings;
Summary - She believed in more. In better. In bigger. That life was out there waiting to be grabbed with both hands. He's made it his sole purpose to remind her that simple moments were beautiful and meant to be enjoyed... and maybe, she would realize he was one of them.
Warning - (Slight) Angst; Anxiety; Unsure feelings; Fear of the Future; Fluff; Comfort;
Word Count - 4.7k
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🎶 - I'm Fine - BTS
TAE
‘Tae.’
‘Y/n?’ He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time, ‘it’s 3am babe.’
‘... I'm sorry for waking you. Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's okay.’
‘Hey, no, no, I'm awake.’ Sitting up, he switched the phone to his other hand and rubbed at his eyes, ‘What's going on.’
‘It’s not important, I swear,’ he could hear her trying to mask her shakiness over the phone. ‘You can go back to sleep.’
He wouldn’t call her out on lying. He knew better than anyone when y/n was in a bad way. Once he asked her, specifically him, what was wrong, she would crumble and he wasn’t there to catch her right now. ‘Y/n. Come on, talk to me.’
‘I can't sleep.’
‘Yeah, no shit,’ he yawned back.
‘I'm so sorry for waking you.’ He could hear the trepidation in her voice.
‘You know better than to apologize for something like that, ‘ he chastised. ‘Babe, tell me about it. Was it a bad dream? Something keeping you up?’
----------
Y/N
You could hear shuffling over the phone as you searched for an answer. It was hard to put certain emotions into words. You only knew you needed to phone Tae, regretting it too late, when he actually answered. ‘I'm not sure,’ you started awkwardly, ‘I guess. I just don't know where I'm going.’
‘Do you plan on leaving me anytime soon?’ Already pulling your leg, he got you to roll your eyes.
‘No, of course not. I just mean, like, metaphorically.’
Things were a bit...confusing right now.
It had been a long time since you last had to deal with emotions this strong. The voices, getting harder to ignore. You had enough outside negativity to deal with, like family and some friends, all having this certain expectation from you.
It was new for you to rebel, to be who you wanted to be and feel how you wanted to feel without consequences. Choosing a life you solely strived toward, negating the tiny voice in your head saying you were wasting time and you were running out of time and you were not enough.
‘I don't know what I want to do, Tae!’ You burst out, the build up too long, the burden too heavy. ‘I don't have plans. I have a great job, I do. But I don't want to be a PA for the rest of my life and I don't know where to start, where to look, how to choose what I want to do.
I don’t have it figured out, it hasn’t fallen onto my lap, and when I look, I feel like I’m going to waste even more time looking.’
‘Y/n, you know you have a lot more figured out than you give yourself credit for.’ The huskiness of his sleep-leaden voice, comforted you. ‘You have money, a routine stable job, you've worked you way through university and graduated with honors.’ Taehyung did it without effort and he knew you would hear his gruff tone above all others, in a crowd, in a panic, as a voice of reason.
‘I know, and I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s just become unbearable. I am running out of time.’ Struggling to remain composed you spoke into the phone as if he was right here, ‘What if I'm still here in ten years, Tae? What if I don't ever figure out my purpose? What if I'm meant to just work and then die? I haven't lived! I haven’t seen the world. I’ve made everyone proud and now I’m the black sheep. I prefer it, It's just-,’
The sound of keys jangling cut you off.
‘Tae,’ you asked tentatively, confusion evident.
‘Hmm.’
‘What are you doing?’ You asked when he provided no further explanation.
‘Are you in pj's right now?’
‘Uh,’ you looked down at your white vest and underwear, just to make sure, ‘yeah, why?’
‘Miss y/n, I didn't know you slept in the nude.’
The protests left you immediately at his teasing, slithering heat under your skin at the very notion. ‘Tae! I am not sleeping in the nude, I have underwear on.’
‘Uh huh, what color are they?’ Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. You could imagine his smirk, that dumb cocky, arrogant smirk.
He laughed, the sound gruff, infuriating you more, and causing you to giggle back. Because you were the butt of the joke, and you liked his laugh too much. Trying to be mad at him, even when play-fighting or harmless bantering, Taehyung, not a chance.
‘Listen,’ a seriousness settling between you, ‘get dressed, just sweatpants, and a shirt.’
‘Wait, what, why,’
‘Baby, listen for once. Just get dressed and give me five minutes.’
You looked at the blank screen, stunned. Your brain stuck at the word baby, and the effect it had. Your insides were mush, anxiety mollified, despite not knowing what he was about to do next.
‘Babe’, you knew, ‘babe’, you understood, that was normal, routine, best friend. But Baby?
You mulled over it as you discarded your vest, and threw on a loose Celine shirt. Pulling on your black sweats, a pair of socks and air force ones because who knows what this boy was up to, you stopped. You sniffed, once, twice, yep, that was Taehyung’s body wash, but what - oh, you tugged the loose collar toward your nose, yep, this was Tae’s shirt.
You composed yourself, almost deadpan at the small realization. When had he even stripped in your room and why weren’t you there.
Wrapping your messy hair into a bun, you restrained your mind from wandering further.
Your phone beeped from the bed and the screen lit up, a message popping up. ‘Look out your window.’
Peeping out you saw his black Jeep in your driveway. He popped his head out of the driver’s side window and did a two finger salute.
Shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs through the house and out the front door.
‘What are you doing here,’ you asked as soon as he came into view. He looked good, white tee, black sweatpants, you matched, except for his leather jacket and red bandana.
He opened the passenger door on your side and leaned back, giving you a once over. His lips twitched as he rested his eyes on the shirt you wore. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted you in his shirt. You raised your eyebrow playfully, refusing to give life to something like butterflies and heart-eyes when your best friend stood in front of you. Life was complicated enough.
‘You needed me to show up.’ He said it a matter-of-factly, but you knew he wanted to be there for you and you couldn’t, not feel grateful, and a little warm, that he would get into his car drive to you, all because you needed him to.
Not waiting for you to reply, he threw a jersey at you. ‘Its cold,’ his tone left no room for protest and he cocked his head toward the jeep, a sign to get in.
You wrapped it around you silently, not moving, not yet.
‘Well,’ his thumb curled around the top of the steering wheel as the rest of his fingers straightened out, his freehand rising to follow his question, ’Come on, get in.’
‘Where are we going?’ You would have gotten in, you would probably end up wherever he was going to take you anyway, but where was the fun in doing everything obediently. Even puppies had wild streaks.
He raised his eyebrow this time, a smirk teasing his cheek, 'You're brave every night, y/n. But not tonight, not while you're with me, come, trust me, wherever we go I'll keep you safe.'
You turned to close and lock the front door, breathing out slowly, as slow and low as you could, doing your best to work on the constriction around your heart; his words too wiry, too strong, too genuine to forget, too deep to ignore. It made you so... agreeable.
Getting into the Jeep, you felt different as you sat here now, in a seat you had been in too many times to count. It was probably the time and the circumstances. Yeah, some shifts were just because of the time, and the air and because it was silent and the dead of night.
You said nothing more, even though a few minutes earlier you spoke into the phone like you would explode if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, you would be alone in your head, if you weren’t able to make him understand.
You jumped slightly, as you felt his hand close over yours, and pull it toward him to brush his lips along your knuckles. It was an absent action, maybe, because he stared straight ahead, didn’t spare a glance at you as you stared at the side of his head, making it look like he wasn’t even aware he was doing what he was doing.
Swallowing against the pounding of your heart, you chalked this up too. Night time was vulnerable, everyone was just a little more sensitive, you didn’t have to make it more than it needed to be.
Looking out the window you noted the lights and dark windows, empty parks and streets, doing your best to ignore the heat against your hand, the breath against your knuckles, lips not very far away, that were capable of a lot more.
With some effort, you faded out the intensity of his actions, and as your eyes adjusted you saw familiar figures, and buildings you had driven past numerous times. You knew where you were going.
He pulled up in the parking lot of his safe haven. In retrospect, your safe place should be entirely different, but you were safe with Tae, that said, his peace was where you found yours.
Jumping out of the Jeep, you noted how dark and looming the two story building looked. A huge sign reading 'Blindspot' the only posh part about this place, black metal roller doors, spray painted names across the walls, some of the neon colors standing luminescent against the moonless night.
One would think it was graffiti, but the community knew better, the ones that came and went, some that stopped and never left, knew having your name on the wall was a privilege.
He jumped out too, after grabbing something from the back. Carrying it toward you, you noted his knapsack, and a box of some sort.
Handing it over to you to hold, you took hold of them silently, as he pulled out the keys to open the locks and deadbolt.
You watched him, his actions purposeful but he was at home, knowing which way the locks turned, the catch on the bolt needing to be kicked out a certain way before opening fully; he'd done this a thousand times before.
Lifting up the shutters, the noise too loud for the silent night, he opened the door and guided you in, making you all too aware of his palm in the small of your back. Taking the stuff from your hand and throwing it onto the edge of the ring and he lifted up to close the shutters behind you.
You took notice of the extra shirt that falls out of the pile on the ring, one of your favorites of his actually, grey with black spots, sort of like a giant cookies and cream oreo mix.
The empty gym in front of you was a contrast to the busy days it had. There was a weight section, the bags lined up against the far wall hanging still, having no impact thrown at it to sway the dead weight, and the machines had their own floor upstairs, treadmills overlooking the balustrades to the floor below, by the ring where you stood.
The pool area, directly below you, in the basements where the changing rooms and showers could be found.
It looked small on the outside, but inside there were stories to be told, motivation, encouragement, brotherhood, friendships solidified in stone and a fair share of violent memories with broken bones, broken bonds and broken hearts.
Walls were packed with quotes, anatomy teachings and pictures, schedules, a dedicated to growing trophy case with medals and newspaper clippings, and pictures of staff, members, and the boss, with his best friend.
What Tae didn't continue, was the stereotype of the grunge masculine look that came with gyms. Outside may be black as night, but inside there was color everywhere - a world within.
The punching bags were each a different shade, green, red, yellow and blue. The ring bottom was black, neon orange ropes running along the sides in three consecutive lines, and your personal favorite, a giant pride flag hung on a hook outside his office door.
Toxic masculinity wasn't allowed in Taehyung's gym. You could be yourself, make your own lifestyle choices and still be a good fighter or just work-out. He took it upon himself to punch the teeth out of anyone that thought otherwise. This was what he'd always wanted to do and he made it more than just a place to get healthy.
There were four hours, two for the morning, two for the afternoon, catered only to women. Tae understood that men will be men, no matter how much you tried to change it. And comfort mattered.
Working out and exercising, as much as it seemed, like a chore, it could be enjoyable. It could be a social setting, helping people to open up, and cope, providing the best way for them to be themselves.
You helped him find a premises, helped him choose color schemes, and sat in on interviews. For legal purposes you were an advisor and owned a small share percentage. You didn't want it, but Tae insisted, you were especially grateful when the gym grew into more than you both had expected it to become.
'Y/n,' he waved his hand in front of your face, the action snapping you out of your thoughts.
'Huh, sorry, did you say something?'
He smiled comfortingly, 'Take the jacket off and your shoes.'
Scrunching your eyebrows, you finally asked, 'Tae, what are we doing here?'
'We are,' he started explaining as he ripped open a box in his hand, 'doing something I feel you need.'
Looking at you pointedly, he motioned his eyes to the jacket.
Shucking it off, you took off your shoes and redid your bun for good measure.
'It's strange isn't it,' you voiced out loud. He perked up at your food for thought, fingers fiddling with white tape. 'It's strange, that I know every corner of this place, but I haven't ever put a pair of gloves on.'
He raised his hand absently, a student raising his hand to give an answer, his gaze focused on yours as he did. 'That's because you've never had the need to, I'm here to protect you.'
Turning away, you caught yourself, before you let your heart show in your eyes. You've known Tae for so long, been his best friend for years, why now, why this feeling, this tightness in your chest.
You played it off, and walked over to him, socked feet padding against the wooden floor boards.
Taehyung clicking his tongue startled you out of your effort to feel normal; you found him staring at your socks.
'Y/n, I've told the guys this numerous times, you can't spar in the boxing section with socks. It's a slipping hazard.' No trace of the out of the blue romantic words, he bent down easily removing them from your feet one after the other.
It would be weird, if you weren't already so used to his skinship, his cuddling when he slept over, his hand straying over your shoulder on the couch, or brushing against your waist when he passed you. Yet, his thumb, on your ankle, his hand as he circled and held it, even for just the moment that he laid your foot down after taking off the sock, you felt… taken.
You wanted to snort, the wording completely off, I mean, he had a right over you, always had but-
He came into focus, looking up at you from where he sat, and asked lightly,' Do you wash these.'
Your mouth dropped open, as you watched him hold your purple socks in between two fingers, like it would bite him, or the smell would.
Your knee nudged at the side of his face playfully as you reached to pull him up. He took your socks, holding them properly now and put them in his bag, picking up the white tape he was fidgeting with earlier.
'So, will I be sparring with you today?' You were excited now. You had watched people vent and let themselves be free as they learned technique, let themselves be violent without consequences, the satisfaction on their faces after their sessions.
When he finally reaches you again he finds the catch and opens it out. White athletic tape, used to make arms and wrists stiffer, and to provide better grip, even with sweat and slick.
'No, not today. Let's focus on getting you worked up and tired. If you enjoy it, I'll gladly let you go toe to toe with me.' His eyes held a challenge, an underlying meaning evident.
Offering your hands up freely, he taped your wrists and fingers, you've seen him do it many times, just never on your wrists. Experimentally you shook out your fingers and bent and scrunched your wrist to allow for the right amount of tightness.
'Cocky, aren't you, Mr. Kim,' you side-eyed him.
He leaned into you, his breath teasing yours, 'I am the Coach here, y/n.' You blinked at the nervous fluttering in your chest, his intimidation, usually not directed so closely to you, doing something you couldn't explain, couldn't quite grasp.
Somehow, you should be scared, but it was, hot.
Leaning into him, breath for breath, you matched up, 'Then teach me.'
A slow smile broke out over his lips, playful Tae was back, it let you navigate things easier, you knew what to expect.
'So, I'm boxing the bag,' you deduced. 'I don't see why I need to tire myself out. I don't know how to do this.'
His palms closed over your cheeks, puffing your face up, emphasizing your pout. 'You are frustrated. You can't do anything about any of your emotions tomorrow, y/n. You have to be patient. You have to remind yourself it's a day at a time that gets you to your future. It will always be about patience.'
'Unfortunately, patience is overrated at something to 4am,’ you complained as he let go of your face and bent down to produce a new set of gloves from under the ring. Opening the zip of the bag, he pushed one toward you.
Shaking his head at your antics, not even phased, he strapped the gloves to both your hands and walked toward a bag. 'Come on, try it.'
'Color?'
'The yellow one.' He made to stand behind the bag you chose, and held either side of it, knees bent slightly in a defensive stance.
Feeling slightly out of place, and awkward, you huffed and punched the bag just to humor him.
You stared at it. The fucking thing didn't even move.
He burst out laughing at the comical look on your face.
'Okay, wait no,' he composed himself and came around you. His breath fanned your neck, giving you goosebumps, as he held your wrists and showed you how to punch. 'So straighten your elbow, like this, and pull it back in and see how the gloves are shaped, your forefingers curl above your thumb, so inside your glove your thumb shouldn't be in the fist.'
Nodding as you took in the new information, you did your best not to get distracted as he continued, all too comfortable in his element.
'When your wrist hits the bag don't curl it, let it face the impact head on. See, this is how you do it, so you don't break your wrist.' He made you punch the bag and showed you where your wrist was bending and how to keep it tight.
'Alright, baby,' that word, that goddamn word, 'you good to try again?'
Closing your eyes and swallowing hard, you nodded in answer and shook your head out of the Tae trance.
'Start with a simple combo this time, Jab, Jab, Uppercut, Hook.' You knew the names and their directions. Jab was straight forward, twice fast on the submissive hand as a set-up, the uppercut from downward into the abdomen or chin, depending, and the hook, from the dominant hand rounding off on the face.
'Think of it all y/n,' he encouraged, as he walked to his original position, 'the people, the words, the expectations, the beating up of yourself you do on a daily basis, and just go for it.'
Spreading your legs in a stance, aiming at the bag on his command, you clenched your fists and focused.
'Go'
----
'And breathe.'
Breathing heavily you fell flat to the floor, and stared up at the ceiling.
Sweat was in your eyes and your hair, but despite being in dire need of a shower, you felt oddly at ease. Tiny zings of exertion shot through your body as your lungs begged for air and you heard your blood rushing.
The roof was really pretty you thought, the wood positioned in long blocks to form and hold up the gable, grabbing your attention for the first time ever.
You blinked as Tae's face came into view, his hands resting on his knees.
He smirked cutely as he brushed your sweat slicked hair out of your eyes and off your face before reaching down to pick you up off the floor.
Handing you a water bottle, you let him manhandle you as he lifted your form to sit on the edge of the ring, launching himself up to sit next to, a second later.
'How do you feel?' He was proud of himself no doubt, after all, his plan did succeed.
You made a face at him, anyway.
'Hey,' he put both his hands up in mock surrender. 'It worked, didn't it.'
You cut him some slack, this time. 'Yeah, I feel icky, but definitely less worked up.'
---------
🎶 - Black Swan - BTS
TAE
Taking a swig of the water you had opened in your hand, he looks at the top of your head as he closes it and puts it away.
'Hey.'
She looks up at him, eyes hooded in exhaustion.
He smiles at her. Despite how much he loved her spitfire, she's adorable when she's not talking back.
He knew of the thoughts that crawled up her spine on a daily basis. He knew she had no plan, and it made her hyper that she didn't have one, but she couldn't make one because, what if she chose wrong.
He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted to be, and he would fly her across the ocean if she really wanted it; that she didn't need to worry about life so much because he would always take care of her.
'You're too sad.'
She scrunched her eyebrows at him.
'You have the whole weight of the world on your shoulders and you can't do anything about it.' He chose his next words carefully. 'I wish you could take a breather, and let a thought be a thought instead of picking it apart.'
He held up his hand to her when she made to protest.
'You know, things may not feel okay right now, with work, or at home, and in your head. But I've never seen someone adapt like you have. You bounce back, despite how much grit it takes.'
He took the gloves off her hand and carefully unwinded the tape on her fingers.
'I don't have answers y/n. But I do know you have me for a long time and I'm going to be here as you do your thing.'
Placing pressure on each finger he massaged the tightness out of it and flexed it for her.
'I don't know where you're supposed to go, if you were meant to leave and give me a round-the-world heartbreak, I'm not sure who you're supposed to be, I don't even know if you have a higher purpose, it wouldn't surprise me if you did, but you, y/n,' he heaved a sigh as he faced her, his gaze meeting hers, his next words the most important thing she'd need to remember,' you're a good you.'
As he met her eyes, her breath hitched. He heard it. He could see the flush in her face. He knew he was being honest. He knew he meant every word.
A half smile, a heavy acceptance, hands that were so easy to hold, eyes that were never anything but honest, a bond that all but forced a person to keep swimming. That was Taehyung to y/n. And that was y/n to Taehyung.
'You're a really, good you,' he reinforced. 'Right now, it works. I have a feeling it will work for a very long time.'
'I'm scared.' He could hear it in her voice. He heard it back when she was in her room too.
'Nothing is really set in stone, babe. And even though it does feel like you're running out of time, it's something you can't help. It's not what you want to hear but it's true.'
'How do I stop being sad?'
She was deflecting. But he had said it before, it wouldn't be gone tomorrow. Her anxiety and her fears, they will probably never go away.
She had the right way to go about it though. You get through it. Somehow. Some days it's a good cry, some days it's with a punching bag, and some days, it was with a best friend.
'See, now that's why you have me.' He answered confidently, as he put his chest out, his need to have her be okay, her smile, her laugh, his only intentions, his favorite thing these days.
'Oh really, you, why, because you're a clown.'
He feigned offense at the statement. 'Excuse me, I am not a clown, ask anyone that comes in for the 5am rush.'
She looked up at the clock in shock, it was really going half-four. She turned back to him sadly, 'I kept you up all night.'
'It was a fun night,' he replied, the teasing of many other ways to keep him up on the tip of this tongue, deciding against it, he looked away from her. 'You needed me, no amount of sleep is worth that.'
He didn't explain himself, he really didn't mind the lack of sleep. He could easily catch a nap in his office, or head home after half a day. But this, this moment with his best friend, that he wanted to be more, he knew he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. He knew he'd do it over again too.
Pushing off the ring he grabbed the knapsack and handed her his shirt. 'Change out of that shirt, and use this one, you'll catch a cold, because of the sweat. And let's get you home, you need a hot shower, and sleep. I'll drop by for dinner after work too.'
Finally turning to her, he found she hadn't moved an inch, unshed tears in her eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her toward him, sweat and all, and held her in his arms. 'You're first y/n, you'll always be first.'
A tender kiss on her head, his words rendering her speechless, and he knew uncharted waters were on the horizon.
This night, things that he'd said, the ways in which she responded, it was going to shift things for them.
But silence was comfortable for them. And she drank his share of coffee while he ate her share of pineapple, because he couldn't stand coffee and she hated pineapple. And he could hold her in his arms and she'd use his shirt while they slept.
It would start small, but he'd show her, the future was bright, she was deserving of more than she understood, she would be protected from her family and expectations and she would learn to remember, purpose or no purpose she wasn't alone, she never would be again.
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sweetberrysmooch · 4 years ago
Text
HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section
(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)
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First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol
Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.
Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3
Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters
Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3
From best to worst:
#1: BadBoyHalo-
Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.
He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?
His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.
While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.
Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.
(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this- 
The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it, 
“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.
“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap. 
“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George. 
And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon. 
“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)
#2: Philza 
Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.
Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.
He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.
He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).
(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?” 
When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail. 
“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.” 
It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)
#3: Quackity-
Quackity:
Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.
He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.
He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon  minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!
As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.
(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea. 
You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens. 
He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)
#4: Schlatt-
Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.
During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.
Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.
He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.
Overall, a good 4th place on the list.
(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head. 
“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
“Schlatt.” 
“Yes.” 
The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently. 
You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look. 
“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)
#5: Dream-
Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.
He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.
Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).
To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.
Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.
One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)
(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy. 
It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm. 
His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)
#6: Technoblade-
Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.
6th place ^^; sorry king.
He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.
Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.
He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.
As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.
(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you. 
You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races. 
“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.” 
Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him. 
“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.” 
He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)
#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.
Fundy- 
Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.
He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.
Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)
Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.
7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.
(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly. 
The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument. 
He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday. 
So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying. 
You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was. 
Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)
Sapnap-
Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.
Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.
He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.
Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.
(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking. 
At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets. 
“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper. 
“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed. 
“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.” 
You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant. 
Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)
#8. George-
Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.
He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.
To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…
(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it. 
It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth. 
Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)
#9: Wilbur
Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.
You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”
Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.
With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.
(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur. 
“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively. 
“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?” 
“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!” 
You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)
// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3
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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago
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the mission ; syverson x stucky x fem!reader
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status — completed oneshot
word count —   4,350 words
warnings — SMUT, double penetration, triple penetration??? oral sex (giving and receiving), foursome, unprotected sex(dont do this), swear words, competition(ish)
pairing — syverson x stucky x fem!reader
a/n — DNI IF YOU ARE UNDER 18,, pretty self-indulgent so what about it,, wanted to post this as my first fic for 2021 so we can start the year with a bang but hey the year is still new so hope this counts,, feedback is appreciated
masterlist
“Tell me again, why are we meeting up with this person?” If you told people that there were times that Steve — Captain America as most of them are most familiar with — was egotistical enough to the point that he believed that intel from outsiders weren’t needed, they wouldn’t believe you unless they saw how he was currently. When the military told them that some of their men have discovered remnants of HYDRA, Steve was fine with that vague lead since he thought that they could take it from there. However, his pride took a hit when the military insisted that one of their men be sent over to the compound to assist them.
Y/N then scheduled for Captain Syverson to meet with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes so they could discuss what the special operations captain saw. Sighing irritatedly, the assistant of the Avengers paused in the middle of the hallway so she could look the super soldier in the eye, “Look Captain, I know you think you can do this alone — you’ve proven to me and your fellow Avengers that you can — but the military and government believes that you need more hands on deck, okay?”
Crossing his arms, Steve opened his mouth to argue but opted not to, “Good, now behave okay? Bucky’s almost done training the recruits; so he’ll be joining us shortly.” As she walked away from where they stood, the captain bit his lip as he watched her ass and legs strut away in the green and white plaid dress that she was donning. Hearing her fingers snap together brought him back to reality and made him follow her steps.
“Captain Rogers, meet Captain Syverson from the military’s special operations,” Y/N introduced the two men to each other, who were visibly appalled at the thought of having to shake hands, but a stern look from the girl standing between them prompted the Texan captain to hold out his hand to which the Brooklyn captain shook briefly but with a tight grip before letting go. “We appreciate you coming here, Captain Syverson.”
His response surprised Y/N, but in a good way, and she smiled brightly at the simple interaction the two had. “You can call me Sy; only prefer being called Captain by those who are under me.” The wink he sent the only girl present in the room gave her the implication that there was a double entendre in his statement; whereas the enhanced super soldier caught on and was displeased with how he was hitting on Y/N.
Puffing out his chest and rested his hands on his belt buckle, “Well Sy, why don’t you share with us what it is you saw.” Nodding, Sy grabbed the folder he brought with him and handed it over to the Captain; Y/N was setting up the laptop and projector that was in the conference room. Steve skimmed through the files as Y/N displayed some of the satellite images that were taken. “Have you or any of your team members been inside the facility?”
Shaking his head no Sy explained, “We didn’t dare to. Though I had some soldiers stake out and in their week of monitoring they didn’t notice anyone come in or out.” Placing the folder on the desk, Steve instructed Y/N to show more of the pictures and she complied, “How come you didn’t get in and check it out? Isn’t that what a captain does?”
“Steve,” Y/N scolded him as she looked at him with a warning look but despite her piercing gaze he remained unfazed as he gave a challenging stare to the other captain — one which Sy wasn’t afraid of. “A captain’s duty is to lead his soldiers and make the right calls; it wasn’t our mission to look for the abandoned facility but we found it anyway. We just ensured that there wouldn’t be any criminals that we could possibly encounter that would interfere with our mission.” 
The tension was thick in the air when Steve gulped down — not wanting to admit that Sy made a valid point. Striving to cut the tension in the room, Y/N stood up as she spoke, “Okay, great points. Should you plan to check the place out,” She was talking to Steve who was intently looking at her with a look he’s never given her before; she struggled to continue with her point with how intense his stare was, “Secretary Ross decided that it might be better for you to tag along,” Sy nodded as he was being talked to.
“Just me? Or would my men be included?” Sitting back down on her chair she browsed through some of the files she had prepared for their meeting as the two men watched her like a hawk, “They want you out on the field along with Steve and Bucky; but your other men can help behind the scenes.”
Displeased with the new information, Steve crossed his arms from where he was seated, “No, he is not joining us on the field,” He was now standing up, as if he was trying to assert his dominance and authority over the other captain who seemed undaunted as he stood tall. “Why the hell not?” 
“Jesus Christ, stop it, the two of you!” Y/N held out her hands to create space between the two charging bodies, her hands landed on their pecs and she had to stop herself from enjoying the feel of their skin against her fingertips, “You both need to calm your asses down! I don't know what it is about each other that ticked you off but you guys are gonna have to work together. Now, why don’t we calm down and try to get along?”
Running a hand through his buzz cut hair, Sy was the first one to speak since he wanted to charm Y/N, “I’m really sorry about my behavior, love,” His larger hand reached for hers and placed a kiss on the back of her palm; Steve sharply looked at how affectionately the other captain gazed at the assistant who had been responsible for his orgams without her even knowing it, “I’m gonna be on my best from now on; especially when I work with the former soldiers.”
Having enough of what he said Steve made his way to the two of them, breaking off their clasped hands so he could hold Y/N’s, planting himself between the two he gruffly said, “You know what bothers me? Is the way you’re hitting on Y/N.” Sy could not hold back the smirk as he somewhat felt a sick pride rush over him seeing the infamous hero getting riled up because of him, “Don’t recall you being her boyfriend; so really I can flirt with her as much as I want.”
She doesn’t know why, but Y/N was extremely aroused with the way they discussed her as if she weren’t there. Ultimately it was the way they both battled for her really made her panties dampen. “Who would you rather fuck?” The blunt question had her jaw dropping in shock and disbelief; she always knew how Steve was direct to the point, but never expected him to be straightforward in a sexual context.
“I don’t know,” Her eyes darted back and forth from the two captains, “You’re both very attractive; but I never imagined both of you being attracted to me.” It was difficult for her to hide the faint traces of her insecurities which the two men were quick to pick up. Steve caressed her hand that he held as he sincerely cooed at her, “How can I not want you? And I’m not just talking about your divine body. Your patience in handling us is unlike any other. You’re extremely compassionate and kind. When I look at you I see a woman whose beauty on the outside matches the beauty within.”
The other hand that Sy held was being placed with a kiss that despite being gentle was contradicted with the rough sensations of his beard, “I’ve only known you for a while but I have to second the motion; you are a force to be reckoned with. While there are parts of you that clearly cannot be tamed and that your fire was meant to remained ablaze,” He hoped that she got his reference of her dangerous line of work and with the small nod she gave him affirmed so, “But you also have the tranquility that a mother possesses.” 
A small smile broke out of Y/N’s face after their speeches; but the serene moment quickly faded when the super soldier brought her hand to his crotch, letting the wide-eyed girl feel the hard on that he frequently spotted around her. “This is just one of the other pieces of evidence I have about how great you are.” Walking up to stand beside Steve, Sy grabbed her other hand and pressed against his own staring erection as he smugly boasted, “But this is a bigger evidence of how much I appreciate you, sunshine.” 
“I’m flattered,” Y/N nervously began as her eyes darted back and forth from the two large men, pulling away her hands from their hardened cock as she felt incredibly shy about the whole ordeal, but it wasn’t an answer that pleased either of them or answered Steve’s earlier question. “But the question is still left unanswered Y/N,” The blonde man to her right reminded her, “Who would you rather fuck?”
Gulping down her nervousness before answering, “Honestly? I want you both.” Even though she shyly confessed that, it was all the fuel both captains needed for their ego as they silently just had established a competition between themselves — get her to feel confident about herself as they both intend on making her so cum hard the only thing she’ll remember is their name. Steve brought a finger underneath her chin, lifting her gaze up to match his hooded eyes, “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He affirmed to her before bringing their lips to touch gently. Eyes closing as the super soldier savored the feeling of her lips that he's been dreaming for so long; and his dreams couldn’t even compare to the feel and taste of her lips. 
As their lips pulled away from the steamy kiss, Sy tore away her lips and planted his own lips against hers, “Absolutely stunning, one of a kind,” Were the words he spoke as their lips locked and tongues danced. Feeling his beard tickle her neck as his lips trailed down her jaw and neck, she giggled lightly and opened her eyes to view Steve whose eyes darkened — though she didn’t know that it was due to his lust and longing for her, as well as the jealousy due to the scene unfolding in front of him. Pulling away from the kiss, Sy then lifted her up to the table and sat her down. Without even speaking, he made his move to undress her — grabbing the cloth by her cleavage, ripping the dress in two to expose how she chose to forego a bra and was only wearing a poor excuse of panties; the Texas raised captain could only smirk as he went down on his knees while he slid her lace undergarment down her legs. 
“What a devious little thing you are,” Her attention was shifted to the Brooklyn-raised captain as he spoke; she instinctively spread her legs which didn’t go unnoticed by Sy who smirked in appreciation before lunging forward to lick her through her panties — causing her to gasp out loud, rolling her eyes at the pleasure.  Annoyed with how he was being undermined, Steve grabbed for Y/N’s cheeks and kissed her fervently, making him moan in bliss as the kiss exceeded his dreams and expectations. “This what you want? Want two men proving to you how goddamn beautiful you are?”
The question was rhetorical, but somehow she found herself whining as she nodded against his lips where their lips met for a heated kiss. Grinning at her state, Steve ended their kiss as his lips trailed down her chin and to her neck, searching for her sweet spot. Just as he sucked on the skin below her jaw, she tried to squeeze her legs together to alleviate the arousal she was feeling — but it only made Sy smirk and encourage him to push aside her panty and directly get a taste of her.
“I’m gonna taste this pretty pussy okay? Why don’t you show Steve over here what that pretty mouth can do besides ending tension okay?” With a shaky sigh, she nodded as her eyes watched as Steve got on the table, kneeling beside her, all while he undid his belt and pulled the zipper down to free his cock. “I’ve been fantasizing about what that mouth would feel like ever since you joined,” His filthy confession made her bring her thighs together again to relieve her of the ache she felt; but all it did was make her feel again the trimmed hair of Sy who was placing gentle kitten licks on her pussy, “And now I’ll find out if you’re as any good like I thought you would be,” Served as his final warning before kneeling on the table by her head and feeding his cock to her waiting mouth.
Groans were heard from the two captains but for similarly different reasons; Steve loved how his cock slid down her throat easily without gagging, and her hollowed cheeks and expert tongue providing him pleasure but it was also the way her one hand was sliding from his balls to the base of his cock that almost made him cum. Whereas Sy couldn’t get enough of how sweet her juices were; he was sliding two fingers in and out of her, and everytime he pushed them right back it became harder for him to do so with how her walls were resisting them — it made him think about how her walls would resist his cock. “You like this don’t you? Like being used for our pleasure?”
A pathetic whine was all that she could let out seeing as her mouth was preoccupied with Steve’s cock was prohibiting her from speaking clearly. “You’re too invested that you can’t even remove my cock from your mouth to answer properly,” Feeling her nod against his cock just added to the bliss he felt. Shaking his head as he licked her cunt and fingered her pussy, Sy loved it when her thighs were rubbing hard against his beard and some of her juices were sticking to his facial hair.
Y/N was surprised when Steve pulled his cock of her mouth, “Not yet baby, I’m not cumming in your mouth just yet.” With his lips still pressed tightly against her pussy lips, Sy smirked at him, “Or maybe you just can’t cum at all.” That statement reminded both men that even though they intended to make her feel how beautiful she was, they were still competing for her. Sitting up with the support of her elbows, Y/N watched closely as Steve grabbed Sy by the shirt, dragging him away from her pussy, resulting in him sitting up on the floor on his bum. He planted himself on one of the conference chairs and once settled, grabbed Y/N’s hips so she was straddling hovering his cock, “It’s because I’d rather cum inside her pussy.”
With one hand on her hip, the other one guided his cock in her tight canal easily. “Oh fuck, you’re so big,” She moaned as she rested her hands on his shoulders as she rode him slowly, getting used to his size. Calloused hands were on her ass as Steve guided the pace in which they were fucking. His lips were pressing firmly against her breasts, leaving his traes of desire on them. As her eyes were closed in pleasure, she didn’t see how Sy was freeing himself from the restrains of his pants; after doing so he stood up from the floor and sat down on the conference table. 
“You’re gonna suck my cock while you ride his dick; so turn around,” It took a while before she did so, but Y/N had to push Steve’s face gently from where his mouth had been enveloping her nipple. She turned around to face Sy who was stroking his cock with hunger on his eyes; moving her hair from her face, she rested her hands on the knees of the man in front of her before lowering her lips to wrap it around the tip of his cock. “That’s a good girl,” He sighed out in pleasure, one hand finding purchase on her hair.
Jealous at the thought of having to share her or her attention, Steve kicked off the chair he was sitting on and stood on his feet and helped Y/N to do the same. With her bent over, the super soldier grabbed for her hips and rammed in and out of her pussy with short and rapid thrusts. Sy allowed her to take control of how she wanted to suck him, but he couldn’t help himself as he thrusted his cock in her mouth a few times, relishing in the moans she let out when he did so. “See what you do to us?” Steve asked as he felt his tip graze her sensitive spot, feeling her thighs shiver leaving him to hold both thighs in his hands.
“You make us feral,” Sy continued his train of thought as his hand added pressure on the nape of your neck, making you take him deeper, “You’re so goddamn beautiful that you make us lose all logic.” It was amazing to him how her tiny throat could accommodate all of him, and the way her nails dug into his thighs only added to his pleasure.
Bucky had just finished his training session with the recruits and was dying to get to his room to shower off the filth and sweat. Before getting to do that he first had to meet with a captain that was said to have intel about HYDRA; so imagine his surprise when he enters the conference room and sees three people fucking and not discussing mission details.
A man with a buzz cut — he inferred that was Sy — was sitting on the desk with his head thrown back in bliss as he was being given a blowjob by Y/N — the Avengers’ secretary whom he had been fantasizing about — while she in turn was being fucked in the pussy by Steve. “Well if I knew the meeting would look like this I would’ve ended the training session.” 
Steve just smirked at his best friend who was leaning against the wall, “This is Sy,” He nodded to the man sitting at the desk who waved with his free hand from Y/N’s hair. Approaching the three of them Bucky inquired, “She any good at sucking cock?” 
“The best; gag reflex is practically non-existent,” Steve recalled as he was now rubbing her clit, loving the way she was squirming against his body. Her hands were settled on Sy’s thighs, anchoring herself and leaving nail marks on his skin. “Her throat is tight but I doubt it’s tighter than her pussy.”
Bucky grabbed her hair to stop her from sucking on Sy’s cock, “Never pegged you to be a willing cumdump; you just needed a lot of cocks to fulfill you huh?” Despite her face having a mixture of saliva and the precum of both captains, she bashfully smiled at the sergeant. Stroking her cheek gently, the Texan captain demanded a verbal answer, “If he asks you a question you are expected to answer, beautiful.” Feeling the force of Steve’s harsh thrust, she managed to let out a choked out response, “Yes! I need a lot of cocks to satisfy me.”
Halting his assault on her pussy, Steve slid his cock out of her, “I’m gonna fuck her ass, Sy you get her pussy, Buck you start with her mouth first.” When Sy pulled her off his cock, Y/N was able to gulp nervously at the thought of taking all them at once; however she wasn’t given enough time to react to it as Sy was dragging her to ride him as he sat at a chair. Carefully, he helped her descent on his cock as the man groaned against her neck when he felt how her warm and wet she was, “Did the captain really fuck you, beautiful? You’re still so fucking tight.”
“I did, and I fucked her good,” Steve asserted as he lined his cock up behind her other hole, “That’s just another reason why you’re beautiful, doll. You’re just so fucking tight no matter how fucked you are,” And to emphasize his point, he slide his tip inside her ass and stilled upon feeling her walls constricting around him. “Goddamn, doll,” Steve breathed out as he shoved more of his cock inside her, his whole cock now shoved deep in her ass.
Her mouth hung agape as she felt two cocks having a go in her — loving the way she was never fully empty since when one thrust out, another slammed right back in. Taking advantage of her opened mouth, Bucky stood by the side of the chair and presented his cock to her, “Take it all in princess.” Like an obedient girl, she did wrap her lips around the ridge of his cock and began sucking on it as best she could.
“See what you do, doll? You make us go ravenous for you,” Steve emphasized his point as he mercilessly thrusts in and out of her ass despite her walls clinging to him, begging him to ease down. Agreeing with the captain, Sy sucked on her nipple harder as he thrusted sharply on her pussy, “Make us want to shower you with cum to prove how divine you are.”
Stroking her face gently contradicted how ruthless Bucky treated her mouth as his balls were slapping her chin repeatedly — allowing some of her drool and his precum to fall graceless from her mouth — before adding, “Only a pretty girl like you can make three soldiers fall apart.”
And fall apart was exactly what was bound to happen as Steve planted his hands on her hips so he could gain enough leverage to fuck her ass relentlessly, until his balls slammed against the rim of her opening, until he felt himself come undone with one final thrust all the way inside her. “Fucking hell,” He panted out against her back as he felt himself unload almost a year of desire inside her.
With much reluctance, Steve pulled out of her ass and rested against the conference table to catch his breath and recover. This then allowed Sy to knead his hands into the skin of her ass so he could move her up and down his cock, chasing his own impending orgasm. “Cum with me, beautiful,” He harshly demanded against her skin as moved her in time with his thrusts, “Let me feel you fall apart and come on my cock.” And to prove how badly he wanted — no, needed — to feel her hug his cock even tighter as she spasmed in pleasure — her to cum, he slid in and out of her at a rapid pace until she was clawing at his chest and he felt her body tense up then relax as she coated his cock with cum. 
Moaning out at the relief of her release, Bucky enjoyed the added vibrations on his cock — adding to the pleasure as her tongue licked and swirled around the underside of his cock — while watching her ride out her orgasm. It wasn’t long before Sy too stilled his movements so he could release his seed in her. “Fuck so good!” He yelled out as he stayed inside her, relishing the feel of their combined juices. Seeing how her mouth went slack and her lips weren’t sucking on his cock anymore, the sergeant pulled out and stroked his cock as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her nipple. Shivering at the sensation, she stared at him with doe eyes as her dainty hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls, “Cum for me, Bucky.” It was the way she sultrily whispered it that made him throw his head back and moan as he covered her gorgeous tits with his cum.
Loving the way her breasts were marked with his cum, she tried to milk more out of the super soldier by rubbing the tip of his cock with her thumb as the other hand fondled his balls gently. “You’re one special girl,” Steve spoke as he watched intently the scene in front of him. Smiling at the praise, Y/N stopped stroking Bucky’s cock when she milked him already. After leaning down to press a chaste, sweet kiss on Sy’s lips, she removed his cock  from where it was deeply planted on her — with a moan falling from her lips — before standing up and heading to where Steve was in order to do the same.
“Thank you for proving how beautiful I am,” She sweetly thanked them once she pulled away from the kiss. “Now hold on,” Bucky spoke as he made his way to stand beside Y/N, “I think you’re gonna need more proof of how beautiful you are.”
Catching his drift, Sy sat up straighter in the chair before agreeing, “Exactly, and we might need to give you individually are our own reasons.” She held her breath once more as she felt Steve pepper kisses on her shoulder, “Think you can handle us individually, doll?”
Desperately, she nodded as she enjoyed the feel of his lips kissing her skin. With two fingers grabbing onto her chin, Bucky made her face him, “Good, ‘cause I haven’t been inside that lovely pussy and ass of yours. Oh, and I got a long list of what makes you fucking beautiful.”
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lilieths · 2 years ago
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“— i saw the world i had walked since my birth and i understood how fragile it was, that the reality was a thin layer of icing on a great dark birthday cake writhing with grubs and nightmares and hunger.”
DOSSIER ⟢ PINTEREST ⟢ WANTED CONNECTIONS [ TBA, here’s the GOOGLE DOC! ]
TROPES: besties, let me fill this in later, i’m just trynna get this out TV PARALLELS: read the above line, lol
NAME: Lilith Rhian Gaumond ⟢ lilith— meaning “belonging to the night,” comes from the Akkadian word lilîtu, the feminine form of a word meaning “demon” or “spirit.” ⟢ gaumond— a surname of German origin, meaning “death in a battle.” AGE: 26 ( well, she’s been 26 for a good half a century; is really 78 ) OCCUPATION: Archivist for the Talbots CIRCLE: Night
THE STORY THUS FAR... 
The Gaumonds were a prestigious family of Wizards before the fall of their estate, claiming to have descended from Perenelle Flamel herself— at the very least, they descended from one of her previous marriages, before she’d even met the creator of the Philosopher’s Stone. Perenelle had left her first and only son with his father, to be forgotten by history as she herself had been, though Durham Gaumond had endured.
Magic came easy for a man whose own parents had been so entrenched in these ways. While he could never hope to master the sorcery of his maternal half, his own father had taught the man all he could from his own ancestors. His was a lineage of healers, and his children and their children would continue this tradition for centuries before the birth of Lilith. She was a disruption to this working system.
But before she’d bastardized the magic that flowed through her veins she thrived in it.
Lilith had not been allowed to go to public school with the other children, her parents preferring home-schooling so that she could properly be taught. Hours were spent with classes in casting, ritual, history, and spells. The eldest daughter of the Gaumonds was a special sort…a prodigy that seemed to have more potential than her own father, the magic of Durham coursing through her veins with a fervor they hadn’t seen in years. 
Her mind was constantly filled with her studies, and when it was left with its own thoughts, hers turned into a battleground, simple and complex all at once because she was unsure of how to marry the person she was supposed to become and the person she truly was on the inside: ravenous for a knowledge denied to her, needing all that Perenelle had kept from Durham.
Journals had been passed from parent to child for all these years, detailing the bitterness felt by their ancestor in being abandoned, the determination to surpass the Flamel name and the yearning for more forbidden fruit. 
While her parents used the majority of these ramblings as a cautionary tale ( taking whatever teachings they could and attempting to redact the man’s more pernicious recordings ), Lilith could not be kept from the words on the weathered pages of those journals. She’d convinced herself there was a code, some secrets left to be discovered— perhaps she was right, but no one had ever listened. 
As the years passed, her parents become busier with her younger sibling— if Lilith had been a prodigy, Levi was a savant. Better still, he took after Durham in the ways that mattered, and abandoned those that didn’t.
The siblings took very different paths then, with Levi becoming everything his parents wanted, and Lilith becoming this recluse, looking for something no one believed in. Flamel had his eternity among the living but his wife was said to have had some mastery over the dead. If she’d been descended from Perenelle, then why wouldn’t she strive to do the same?
Lilith had taken to visiting seats of power, finding tomes of years past and devouring their contents, making copies of the pages so that she could pour over them again and again and again. She was convinced Durham had left a codex of sorts, and with time she’d uncovered the secrets of Perenelle and the necromancers that came before her.
Still, the years would show that some things are forbidden for a reason— even with an affinity for the dead, she was a healer. Flowers grew wherever she’d tried to raise the dead ( animals, because she’d never come across anything else, and she’d kept far from cemeteries ).
Her first true test came with the most terrible caveat; Levi had taken to pixie dust and he’d taken to it so thoroughly that it’d taken his life in return.
As he laid in her bathtub, she’d moved as if on autopilot, filling the tub with water and herbs, slicing into the palm over her hand and pouring the ichor over her brother’s corpse. She’d chanted the words found in the old texts, in some archaic language she’d yet to decode in its entirety, but she didn’t have time to study, not for this test.
It seemed to work at first; the color returned to him and his lungs seemed to be filling with air once again— her own body and mind were filled with a feeling of vertigo. Her vision had blurred but she kept steady, chanting and chanting until the world around her went dark. When Lilith woke again, she was met with a worried younger brother, trying to shake her away and mumbling about how she was cold, still, not breathing. 
She didn’t believe him, she was living in this moment and so was he? She’d discovered Perenelle secrets so why was Levi crying? Why had he flinched when she moved?
Lilith should’ve gone and read through the texts again, had she read the fine print she would have understood that necromancy was predicated on the transfer of one’s life force, and she’d given Levi all of hers. How she was still living? No one could say.
But she’d given her brother life again, right? Well Levi had gone relinquished it once more, wasting her life force as he had wasted his.
SMALLER TIDBITS!
— Lilith is the queen of making a small apartment look like an Italian villa for some reason. No really, with the simple but homey furniture and the color palette it’s very chic and very much the opposite of who the Undead Archivist has become as of late. It’s a room on the top floor of her building so she gets lots of privacy, and enough space for her to be comfortable. — Also this girl can eat ( hence buying out the meat market every week ). — Rises with the sun on average, even when she gets to bed at ungodly hours. — Her style is interesting, it’s this chic and grey/sepia mess of different things but her definite staples are gold and pearls, as well as sneakers and silk skirts ( and let’s not forget a cardigan with just about nothing under ). When she’s wearing pants, they’re the baggiest thing, and she loves turtlenecks and spends her time looking for blazers in the mens section. 
Once again, more to come!
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avada-kedavrugh · 4 years ago
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How stupid you must be?
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Pairing | Tom Riddle x Reader 
Genre | Angst (cheeky lil bit of making out)
Words | 2323
Warning | Making out, mentions of death, very unhealthy/abusive relationship that I do not endorse AT ALL but I just find it interesting to write. <3
How stupid you must be.
Tom’s hand slither around your neck, ever so delicately like a snake entangling its prey marvelling at each drop of fear it evoked, his fingers gracing the expanse of your skin like you were a porcelain doll, exquisite, dainty and so fragile in his touch. You are so small against him as he towers over you, your body quivering against the wall from the toxic mixture of anticipation, lust and fear that welled inside you, staring up at him with a look of complete adoration. The very touch of his cold fingers around your throat is so empowering, so overwhelming, so shattering as it destroys every barrier in your mind and subdues your entire being to his control. His dangerous gaze on you, searing through your mind, simultaneously imploring you to delve in closer with sweet nothings calling for you to give yourself to him, and screaming warning signs of ‘danger’. But it’s already too late for you as you’re faltering, falling, fading into his touch, unashamedly losing whatever part of you clung to sanity, replaced with the sheer desire, yearning, desperation for his lips to devour you, to take the final step of consuming you and leave you an empty shell.  
Within the eery silence of the dark closet, your own thoughts echo in your mind, as you silently plead with him. As if hearing your desperation, his hold on you tightens, teasing you with the searing touch of his fingers as his eyes look down on you with a cold, dangerous look. Your eyes flicker with infatuation and your cheeks flush a soft, pink hue, in a way that would be almost endearing, perhaps, if Tom was capable of love. If he was capable of love, he’d be ensnared in your affection and devotion, allow himself to shrink into your touch and be consumed by you, let your unceasing attempts of warmth to burn through him, act as the furnace that would cause his heart to shudder to life. Instead he found the way you looked at him repulsive, your looks of adoration received by a look of apathy, at best. Sometimes, he struggled to bury the contempt he felt towards you and he’d snap. He’d feel his eyes blazing with disgust, the dark look screaming ‘i hate you’ in what was both a shattering roar and a shivering whisper.  
Out of your lips slips a moan, your teeth quickly baring down on your soft lips in a feeble attempt to hide your sheer desire, bashful and ashamed of the effect he had on you. The sound echoes through the closet, burrowing itself into every crevice of the room, slipping into his ears and drilling into his mind, quickly registering as a sign of your weakness, of his absolute control over you. Although he will never love you, he relishes in the dominance he has over you, knowing this is only just the start of his strive for power. He felt no remorse, simply enjoying the incentive your weakness brought, grip tightening, his ring indenting itself into your skin and knuckles turning white whilst pressing against the silky expanse of your throat.
“Tom-” A guttural moan rumbled from your lips, desperation dripping from the very sound. His stony look flickering with amusement; with the knowledge you were defenceless against his hold, your mind falling into a dark abyss that matched your pupils – thick molasses, dilated, faltering at his every move. Secretly, he savours the sight, his lips curling into a sinister smirk as he watches you unfold against him, trapped between him and the wall, knowing that even if he let you go, you would stay there, hopelessly waiting for him to return your feelings. You allowed yourself to be a puppet, directed by his simple touch or a mutter of words, completely consumed by him. Lavishing in this knowledge, he set himself to tease you, make you ache with your utter lust, dipping his head down as he brought his lips dangerously close to your ears.
“Now, I’ve never seen someone so desperate,” The warmth of his breath tantalising against your skin, his words erupting from his voice in a sadistic purr. “How stupid you must be.”
How stupid you must be.  
The statement sounded in both of your minds. Tom’s lips twisting into an even crueller, ever so tantalising smile, while your heart was being thrashed and you felt your stomach momentarily dip.  
How stupid you must be. Completely subservient to the man who held you pinned against the wall, who belittled you and shamelessly looked at you with total contempt. The man was able to cause the pool of rich, luxurious heat sprouting in your lower stomach with just a single touch while at the same time, with just a simple statement, he had caused a churning pit in your stomach that made you wish the ground would just swallow you up right there, taking mercy on you and saving you from the agony he caused. You knew your heart belonged to him. 
Like many complicated things in life, it began innocently, coy glances at a cute boy during classes, feeling flustered around him, laughing as you told your friends about your attraction to him, becoming hopelessly drawn to the mystery that surrounded him. Tom. The tall, dark-haired, dark eyed Slytherin boy surrounded by his friends that all looked up at him with expectation. Who would you be to ignore your innocent, school crush? So, the chaste glances turned to watching him during classes, to trying to talk to him, despite his disinterest, to following him through the corridors. All in - as you told yourself several times - a desperate attempt to help him.  
Along the path of simple curiosity and attraction, you found yourself thinking of him more and more, every second of your day your mind would wander and lead you to him. At first it scared you, so you forced yourself to distance yourself from him. Without him you sank into a seat of sadness, staring into the dark gloomy depths of your drink, while your friends chattered around you, excitedly gossiping about whatever interested them. Wherever you were, sitting in the great hall with your friends or sitting alone in the library, that feeling of emptiness clung onto you. So, when your eyes glanced over him as he walked past, feeling your heart shudder to life, you gave yourself the little treat, let your eyes linger for a second longer, and then another second longer, then another second, and then another, and another, until every time you saw him you allowed your eyes to fix on him – his image imprinting onto your mind. Just seeing him filled you with a euphoric high and who would you be if you denied yourself the feeling? You convinced yourself it was fate, that your life was tied into a hangman’s knot with his. Curiously, one day, he returned the interest, tipping the earth of its axis and letting you fall into his arms. And that was the day, you allowed yourself to become his servant, become besotted him, allowed your obsession with him to begin to ravage you. And now, you knew he wasn’t human – not really - and knew he wasn’t capable of love, yet you’d sacrifice everything just for a simple kiss.
In retrospect, early on, you caught glimpses of something sinister lurking within him, his heartfelt words jumbled with a tone of hatred and his eyes occasionally flaring with something bordering loathing. Maybe, you stayed with him because you wanted to help him or, maybe, you stayed with him because of some sadistic voice that sung in your head that urged you to comprehend him, take him apart and reconstruct him secret by secret, just to know the very truth behind Tom Riddle and who he really was.
How very stupid you must be, your heart fluttering in your chest at his touch despite the obvious torment of his words, returning his sinister look with a look of full-blown lust, the darkness in your eyes caused by your pure desire while his was caused by something far more twisted. How very stupid you must be to allow yourself to slump against him, allowing his rigid body pressed against you to hold you up, his hands clutching your neck and keeping you afloat, the final restraint stopping you from falling into complete delirium.
“Tom, please-” You whined, a painful, raw, raggedy sound. Begging for the cushion of his lips. All of you hoped for the release of his animalist desires on you, for him to shed his cruel exterior, to reveal his raw being to you, bare his soul to you, allow you to squirm your way in, embrace him for who he was, love him, care for him. Caress every wound on his soul, kiss it better and make his heart feel something. For you. You stared at him hopefully, eyes twinkling with some innocence that you desperately clung to, slowing being chipped away every time you worked out what he’d done. His grip on you went slack, the colour returning to his knuckles, your lungs unexpectedly filling with oxygen you didn’t even know you needed as you breathed him in.  
Your eyes dancing with dreams, the dreams you replayed in your mind when the sky got dark, when your dormitory grew still, while your mind was too loud, your dreams embraced you like the warm arms of a mother, coddling you, soothing you into a calm slumber, a lullaby of dreams that would never happen, the dreams of Tom Riddle. Tom’s eyes lacked such excitement, instead they stilled with a vacant expression - one you found rather serene – as he took in the sight of you. Your heart unashamedly raced, desperate for you to reach out and press your lips against his. Risk your life just for the caress of his lips against yours.
His body pulling away from you, letting you to fall back against the wall. His smirk souring into a look of disgust, eyes full-blown with revulsion and contempt, looking down on you as if you were the most disgusting beetle on earth, as if all you deserved was to be stamped on. He moved forward again, this time his lips grazing your ears as he whispers “I don’t need you anymore Y/N.”
Your heart continues its shameless rampage within your chest, thundering against its weak confines, threatening to breakout and escape into Tom’s hands - where it knew it belonged. How very stupid you must be. It was too late for you now, you knew what his words meant, knew the threat they held within them, yet as his hot breath moved away from you, your hands desperately moved to grab onto him, your fingers hopelessly dragging against the material of his shirt, failing to cling onto anything, clawing at the air between you.
He was looking over your small form, taking in each detail of you for one final time; you were his obedient servant that he could manipulate to do his will. You, such a meek being, that seemingly devoted your life to his. Had become entangled, enchanted, encapsulated with him, by him, completely submitting yourself to him all for the human feeling of love. He knew you would do anything for him yet he knew that human feeling inside you, that clung to its innocence, unmoving from its claims of compassion, was stronger than your fragile feelings for him, one wrong move and it could easily overcome your devotion for him and leave him at risk. Something jolted in his heart. And then he did it.
Lips barrelling towards yours. Smashing against your soft lips. Teeth clashing. Like two starved animals that hadn’t eaten in days, absolutely ravenous from hunger, finally given a measly morsel between you. One of his hands wound itself around your neck again, all delicacy thrown aside as he roughly held you up by your throat. His nails attaching themselves to your skin, ripping into your skin so violently, leaving behind imprints at his very touch. Slamming your body against the wall and pressing his form, so crazed in its frenzy yet so rigid, against you. You took your chance to savour him, memorising the feeling of lips against you, the feel of fingers wrapped around your neck. Your mouth opening, tongue pressing against his mouth, desperate to taste him. The concoction of unrequited love and lust had left you famished, and now your body drowned in the touch of Tom Riddle. He was blessing you with what you had always wanted. Quenching the aching feeling that had laid dormant inside your lower stomach for months, incited only by him and growing more dangerous as he disregarded your desires. Yet, niggling in your mind was the emptiness of every touch, every taste, every movement. His sexual ferocity felt more like a primitive instinct than a conscious desire.  
How stupid you must be.
He was going to kill you.
He had used you and tossed you aside like a doll. And every step of the way, you lapped it up like a desperate puppy, hanging at the edge of his every word, the promise of his touch having the power to control you. Inside your heart swelled, as his lips thrashed against yours in their rampage, ever so desperate, like prey entangled within a snake. The warmth pooling through your entire body, drowning the remnants of sanity, and sending you into delirium. How stupid you must be. He was going to kill you and yet, he was kissing you. For the first time, your final wish and he was kissing you, for the last time. Buried under his ravenous lips an uncontrollable grin broke out from your own, torn and bleeding. A grin that pressed against his lips. A grin that mirrored the euphoria that filled your soul.
Maybe he did love you.
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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago
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safe place to land
4.7k || ao3 • Chapter 1/2
Carlos was having the day from hell and he just wanted to talk to his boyfriend about it. Unfortunately, said boyfriend was currently missing and all Carlos could do was worry about him, or find him. But it really wasn’t a choice: he would always come for TK, no matter what.
a.k.a Carlos and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (a 2x08 coda)
Absolutely huge shout out to @officereyes who not only helped me come up with the idea but also helped me with a lot of the plot points. And also to max for talking me through the finer points of concussions, but that will be more relevant in chapter 2 (which will be up Friday, probably). 
Anyways, Carlos may have gotten the screen time he deserved in the last episode but I am still going to give him more anyways, because I can. Title is from “Honest Man” by Ben Platt. 
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Carlos avoided eye contact with everyone as he exited the precinct. He could feel their stares: some sympathetic, some judgmental. He knows they all know. He knew that it had been the talk of the precinct in the hours he had been confined to the interrogation room. He knew they all had an opinion on it, and he was pretty sure he knew what most of them were saying. 
He didn’t have to guess what his father thought, at least. That was made perfectly clear. 
He stepped through the doors of the precinct with a sigh of relief, feeling like he had just run the gauntlet. The bright afternoon sunlight threw him even more, it should have been dark when he left today. It’s another reminder of how far from usual this all is, of how much his world has been rocked by one split-second decision. Of how much that one decision could cost him. 
He climbed into his car with a weary sigh, resting his head in his hands as he took a deep, measured breath. His world was falling apart around him; everything he had worked for was crumbling like dominos set off by one act of compassion. He just wanted to forget it all, but that wasn’t possible. He didn’t want to dwell on Mitchell’s outright disapproval or her cold silence on the way back to the precinct. He would give almost anything to never have to relive the stern looks of his superiors, the shame of being asked to hand over his badge and gun. Most of all he would give anything to forget the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes, so convinced that he had been right about his son, that Carlos needed saving now from himself.
He lifted his head and looked back at the precinct, the crushing feeling of shame pressing on him from all sides. He had possibly ruined everything all because he wanted to see the best in someone. He wanted to believe he hadn’t been taken advantage of, that he hadn’t been naive and fallen for a well-rehearsed sob story, but it was getting harder and harder to cling to that hope by the second. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe he had always been right. Maybe Carlos wasn’t cut out to be a cop after all. 
He was pulled out of his spiral by the feeling of his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from TK: a simple confirmation that he had made it to the station. Just that momentary distraction was enough to interrupt his cascading anxious thoughts, to pull him back to reality. Nothing had been decided yet, he reminded himself. It may not be as bad as it all seems. 
He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but he did know who he needed to talk to. So he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot, heading to the firehouse and the one person who could always talk him out of his own head. 
------------
TK hadn’t been at the firehouse when Carlos arrived, which shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. Why should he have expected anything to go right today? 
Instead, he had had what was possibly his longest one-on-one conversation with his boyfriend’s father over green smoothies and had managed to spill all of his problems to the older man within a matter of minutes. He hadn’t really been meaning to tell him about getting suspended and he had definitely not intended to discuss his tense relationship with his father, but something had snapped in his mind it seemed and he no longer had the ability to keep these things bottled up. Maybe it was something about the firehouse — Carlos had always felt welcome there, comfortable even. Maybe that had been enough to lower his guard. Maybe it was simply the kind face of Owen Strand. For all the problems he knew TK had been having with his dad lately and for all the reservations Carlos personally had about the other man, there was no denying that Captain Strand was an empathetic soul, when he allowed himself to be. 
Maybe it was simply a matter of the walls of his mind being battered for too long — worn more and more with each passing day — that this newest addition to fears and insecurities he kept so fiercely guarded was one too many and had forced his defenses to finally break. If that was the case he supposed he should consider himself lucky. At least it had been with someone he knew and trusted instead of a random passerby or grocery store clerk.
Whatever the reason, it had helped. Owen’s words had helped to ease his worry and return some of his confidence to him. He had felt much better about it all, until his father had called. 
He had left the firehouse with a promise from Owen that he would tell TK he had stopped by before heading back to the precinct, once again ignoring the stares of his coworkers and trying to not feel affected by the indignity of needing an escort to head to the conference room. For a moment, he thought it would be alright. His dad was there and the man he had seen earlier was sitting on the other side of the glass. He had corroborated Carlos’s story, everything he had told them proved that Carlos’s instincts were correct and his actions justified. For a moment he thought everything was fine, but he was wrong. His dad still didn’t believe in him. He still thought that Carlos was a liability, that he was too soft to do the job. 
He didn’t say it, but Carlos had spent a lifetime reading between the lines of his dad’s words. 
Maybe it was exhaustion or frustration hitting the boiling point. Maybe he was bolstered by Owen’s words from early, by the unwavering faith his boyfriend’s father had in him that his own father couldn’t manage to replicate, but Carlos was done hiding things. He told his dad exactly what he thought, and then he left. He stormed out of the precinct and got right into his car before driving home. 
He barely wasted a moment when he stepped through his front door, only pausing long enough to shed his coat and drop his keys into the dish by the door before he entered his kitchen, pulling open cupboards in search of the ingredients he needed. Cooking had always calmed him, it had always been a way to manage his stress and ease his mind. He desperately needed some of that today. 
He paused for a moment before he made up his mind, crossing to the rarely used cupboard above the fridge. He opened it and pulled out the pasta press that lived there, always present but hardly ever used because while he may love the result of handmade pasta it took far more time than he usually had to spare. 
It seemed he had plenty of it today, however. Maybe even for the foreseeable future. Besides, he needed something to take his mind off everything that had happened today and desperate times called for desperate measures. 
He mixed the eggs, flour, oil, and salt together in a large bowl as he let his mind wander. He still needed to tell TK about all of this, he realized. In all of their ins and out today, they kept missing each other. It wasn’t something he wanted to do over a text or a phone call though, so it would have to wait until he was here. Carlos assumed he would come here after his shift — he did, more often than not — but he paused in his mixing long enough to grab his phone. Dinner tonight? he typed into their text thread, followed by the pasta emoji. He received a “sounds great!” and a thumbs up in return and felt a smile return to his face. At least with TK coming for dinner, he was guaranteed to have at least one good part of this day. 
He returned to the task at hand, pulling the beginnings of the dough out of the bowl and placing it on the counter where he started kneading it. He still couldn’t believe everything that had transpired today. When he had left this morning the possibility of running into a suspected bank robber strapped to a bomb and getting suspended had never even crossed his mind. Nor had getting the confirmation that his dad didn't believe in him, but here he was. 
He hit the dough a little harder, the look of grim acceptance in his father’s eyes flashing through his mind once again. He loved his father and he knew that his father loved him; that had never been a question. But there was a difference between loving someone and believing in them, and that was the gray area he and his father existed in. He had always known, deep down. He knew that his father thought he felt things too strongly, that he was too emotional to do the job. That he was a naive bleeding heart waiting for the next lost cause to come around the corner. The worst part was that in so many ways, he was right. Carlos did care too much, he did always strive to see the best in people. He had never seen that as a weakness. Clearly, his father felt otherwise. 
He finished kneading with a sigh, wrapping the dough up in plastic wrap and setting it to rest on the counter as he turned to the cutting board full of vegetables and herbs waiting to be chopped for the sauce. He picked up the knife and started in on the garlic, letting his mind wander once again. His father hadn’t been the only one to show outright disappointment in him today, but that had been less surprising. That didn't change the fact that it had stung. These were people he worked beside on a daily basis, some for years. They were the people he was supposed to trust with his life. 
Generally, he did. He didn’t think that they were bad people or that they would ever not have his back in the field. He had always known that in many cases, they saw the world around them in different ways, but he had never expected it to become a problem quite in the way it has. He couldn’t pretend that the look of disappointment from his Captain — someone he had admired for years — hadn’t stung. 
He was snapped back to the task at hand when his knife slipped and a curse was torn from his lips by the sharp pain of a cut across his thumb. He pulled his hand away quickly, placing his other hand under it to prevent the blood from dripping onto the food as he crossed to the sink. He ran it under water and examined it. It was long and crossed the knuckle which would make it hurt like hell, but it didn’t look too deep, thankfully. He would wrap it for now and TK could look at it when he got home. Which wasn’t strictly necessary, but he knew his boyfriend would insist. Becoming a paramedic had only increased that particular inclination. Not that Carlos could say he particularly minded; it made TK feel better and Carlos was never one to deny his boyfriend anything that would put his mind at ease. 
He made quick work of bandaging his hand before putting on some music and returning to the task at hand. He tossed the vegetables in the pan to simmer and begin to form a sauce while he turned his attention to the dough. He tried not to dwell on the disaster that today had been as he rolled it out. Instead, he tried to let himself get lost in the process, threading the dough through the press carefully and laying the fresh pasta on a paper towel next to the stove. He checked on the sauce next to find that it had come together nicely and lowered the burner to keep it warm while he waited. He busied himself setting the table, throwing himself into putting together a far more elaborate table than was necessary for a Monday night in the interest of giving himself something to do that would silence all the doubts and questions in his head. 
At one point he glanced at the clock on the stove and frowned. TK should have been here by now. He grabbed his phone and sent out a quick text before returning to his project. It wasn’t until he had done every single thing he could think of without hearing the familiar sound of keys in the door that he started to worry. He grabbed his phone again, leaning against the counter as he tapped the name at the top of his recent calls. It rang for what seemed like an eternity before TK’s voicemail answered. 
“Hey,” he said into the phone, “I was just wondering if you were on your way here. You’re running later than usual so I figured I’d check, but I guess you’re still on a call or something. Just give me a call when you get this, I guess?” 
He hung up the phone after that, settling at the counter with a glass of wine as he waited. He managed about 20 minutes before he tried calling again only to get his voicemail, again. It had been almost an hour and he was officially worried. He said as much in a text, anxiously staring at his phone hoping for those three dots to appear. They didn’t and Carlos finally caved, getting up from the counter and crossing over to the table where he blew out the candles before turning off the stove and grabbing his coat. 
The last thing his mind needed tonight was something else to worry about, but this was a fear that hit differently. This was one that no amount of pasta making could soothe away. So he grabbed his keys and stepped out into the night, heading off to find answers and hopefully his errant boyfriend. 
--------------
Just like that all the anxiety and fear he had felt since the call with the unwilling bank robber seemed so trivial, all it took was a few words from Grace and the sight of some bloody rags in a van. TK was in danger: real, horrifying, life or death danger, and not one of the things that had been weighing on him all day was enough to top that. All day he had felt weighed down with worry, had been dealing with his anxiety eating away at him. But this fear, this tangible threat to the person he loved more than anyone else engulfed him; constantly pressing on him from all sides. There was no escaping this one. No amount of cooking or wine would make this go away. The only thing that could make him feel better, that would let him breathe easier again would be finding TK safe and unharmed. 
Carlos could tell that Owen was having a similar dilemma beside him as they drove to the parking garage in tense silence. He wasn’t sure what had been worse: his own hesitant worry and the nagging feeling that something was wrong being confirmed, Owen’s typically ironclad composure slowly cracking before his eyes, or Gwyn’s outright fear. For some reason, he thought it was Gwyn.
He had gotten to know her well since her arrival in Austin: first as TK healed and she tended to him and then later as he spent time around the Strand house. He had come to know her as someone unflappable. He had seen her excuse herself in the middle of lunch to ream out the head of a major corporation over the phone about a stupid decision he had made that could put him in danger of breaching a contract and turn back to their previous conversation without missing a step. He had never imagined he would see her even close to losing her composure, ever. But he had almost seen it in the entryway to the house, her fear for her son and the guilt that she might have had a part in it pushing her towards the edge. She had seemed calmer when they left, closer to the steady woman Carlos had come to know, but she didn’t know what was really happening. If she did, he doubted she would be so calm.
TK needed to be okay, Carlos decided as he glanced back at Owen who was clutching the steering wheel far more tightly than necessary. His safety and well-being was far too important to too many people — Carlos included. Losing his job and disappointing his father was one thing, losing TK was entirely another, and it was something Carlos never wanted to face. Especially not like this. 
He anxiously ran his bandaged thumb over TK’s sobriety chip as they drove. He wondered how scared TK must have been to willingly part with it. It was a representation of everything he had worked for, it was something he was so proud of. For him to leave it as a breadcrumb, with no possible guarantee it would ever be found or that he would ever see it again, he must have been terrified and that thought more than anything else filled Carlos with dread. He wanted to say he was sure about this, but the reality was that he wasn't sure at all. It was merely a desperate hope, but if there was even a chance he could find TK he was going to take it.
The truck carried them closer and closer to their destination in complete silence as the two men sat engrossed in their own thoughts, but Carlos was pretty sure he knew what they both were thinking: TK needed to be okay. No other option was acceptable. 
---------------
TK had been whisked off for an exam and scans the moment the ambulance arrived, leaving Carlos in the waiting room. He had barely taken a seat before his phone had started ringing and it was at that moment that he realized the rest of the 126 crew had no idea that anything had even been wrong. Anxious calls from both Marjan and Paul later told him that the rest of the crew had no idea what had happened, until they saw it on the news. They had gotten the gist from the news report and had seen footage of TK being loaded into an ambulance and they were concerned, to say the least. 
Once Carlos had been allowed back to see him he snapped a photo of a miserable, bandaged TK trying for a smile as proof of life and put it in the group chat with a promise that once he was discharged and feeling a little more steady, they could come over and harass him for managing to find so much trouble. He read their responses to TK as they waited for the doctor to come by with the results of his scans, running a soothing hand up and down his arm the entire time. 
That’s how TK’s parents find them, arriving at the hospital after Owen went back to pick Gwyn up and actually explain to her what happened. Carlos is sure it had been a fun conversation, judging by the tense looks on both their faces when they entered the room, but any tension on Gwyn’s face melted the moment she saw her son.
“Oh, honey,” she said softly, eyes filling with tears as she crossed to the side of the bed. Carlos moved from his spot by TK without a word and slipped into the chair at the side of the room, giving TK’s parents some room to be with him. There were quiet words and whispered affections between mother and son as Owen hovered at the foot of the bed, watching them fondly. Eventually the dynamic shifted to something closer to their usual when Gwyn pulled a container out of her purse. 
“Really Mom?” TK asked with a dubious look, “where did you even get that?” 
“We stopped on the way,” Owen explained, “she insisted.” He must have caught Carlos’s puzzled look because he explained, “Matzo ball soup.” 
Carlos grinned even as TK tried to roll his eyes, but broke off with a hiss of pain. All eyes turned to him anxiously but he gave them a small smile, “I’m fine, I just tried to move my head too much.” 
“And I still fail to see how your soup is going to help heal that,” Owen quipped to Gwyn, who glared at him. The pair started into their usual banter as TK did his best to follow along while obediently eating the soup his mother had handed to him. Carlos watched the whole scene with a fond smile, even as he kept a watchful eye on TK. His boyfriend caught his eye at one point and gave him a soft smile before being pulled back into his parents’ conversation. Eventually, Owen and Gwyn left and it was just TK and Carlos again. 
“Why are you still over there?” TK asked him before the door had even fully closed behind his parents. “Don’t make me come to you.” 
Carlos chuckled and crossed the room, sliding back into his spot on the bed, and leaned down to press a soft kiss at the edge of the bandages, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
He leaned back then to study him more closely. His face was drawn and pale and there was no denying that he was in pain but considering everything, he looked okay. “How do you feel?” he asked him, resting a hand on his arm, “really?” 
“I am in a lot of pain, but I’m fine, really. It could have been much worse, considering everything.”
Carlos swallowed and the hand resting on TK’s arm squeezed tighter, “yeah, it could have been.” 
It was the thought that had kept him company in the waiting room as he had fielded calls from their friends and as he had sat off to the side as TK’s parents had had their time with him. It could have been so much worse, it nearly had been. From what he had heard at the scene and put together since there were a thousand ways it could have gone wrong and a hundred that could have taken TK away from him. He had known he loved the other man for months now, he had long since realized what an integral part of his life he had become. But never in any of that time had he come quite as close to the possibility of losing him for good as he had today and it terrified him. 
But TK didn’t need that on his mind so he said nothing. Instead, he asked, “Any word on how long you’ll have to be off work?” 
“No,” TK griped, “but I would imagine it would be at least a week or two.”
Carlos hummed sympathetically, “Well, if there was one good thing to come out of today it’s that I’ll at least have plenty of time to spend with you while they clear this whole suspension mess up.”
Now TK was looking at him sharply, “Suspension? What do you mean? Carlos, did you get suspended?” 
At his nod, TK’s eyes widened, “How? What happened?”  
“It wasn’t a big deal. Well, it isn’t anymore, I guess. Turns out those two guys that kidnapped you also kidnapped a man this morning and forced him to rob a bank with a bomb strapped to his neck for encouragement. And I let him go because he said they would kill him and I believed him.” 
“And you got suspended for that?” 
“Well I did let a man who had just robbed several thousand dollars from a bank go, TK.” 
“Still,” TK said petulantly and Carlos grinned at his unwavering defense of him.
“It’s okay,” he told him, “I think it’s going to be fine. It turns out I was right and your dad and I did help to find the bank robbers so my dad thinks…” 
“Wait, your dad was there?” 
“The bank robberies were his case. He was the one sent to investigate me too.” 
“Carlos, baby. That’s...so much,” TK gave him a sympathetic look and shifted their hands so he was squeezing Carlos’s. “Are you okay?” 
“I am,” he told him with more certainty than he had felt about anything all day, “because you’re safe and that is all I need. Everything else is just extra.” 
TK smiled at him but didn’t look convinced, “Are you sure?” 
“It was an awful day even before I knew you were missing,” he admitted. “Earlier today I thought I had ruined everything. But almost losing the person I love most put some things in perspective, I think. We’re together and as long as that’s true, I have faith that everything will work out one way or the other.” 
TK smiled at him and they lapsed into comfortable silence before Carlos realized he still had one more bit of news to share. 
“There’s something else we’re going to have to do too, when you’re feeling up to it,” Carlos told him.
“Are you going to be mysterious and make me guess with a severe concussion or…?” TK asked pointedly after a pause, and Carlos chuckled. 
“We’re going to have to find some time to go to my parents’ house for dinner,” he informed TK. “They want to meet you properly.” 
“Your parents,” TK began, eyes wide, “did you tell your dad about us?” 
“Actually, I didn’t have to. Apparently they have known about us since they ran into us at the market. But,” he admitted, “if they didn’t  know before they would have after tonight. I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole time, even when talking to my dad. Guess I’m not exactly subtle when it comes to you. That and,” he paused, fishing around in his pocket before offering up TK’s one year chip, “I asked him if we could keep this out of evidence, as a favor for me.” 
TK took the chip reverently, turning it over slowly in his hands, “I can’t believe you actually found it,” he admitted, “I was hoping you would and I left it on the off chance, but I never actually thought…” he trailed off, raising his eyes to meet Carlos’s gaze, “you’re amazing, you know that?” 
“Not nearly as amazing as you,” he countered. “Have I told you yet today how proud I am of you?” 
TK smiled but any response was cut off by a yawn. “You need sleep,” Carlos reminded him, “we can talk about everything later.” 
He went to slide off the bed, but a hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked over at TK to see him looking at him incredulously, “Where you think you’re going, Carlos Reyes?” 
“Off your bed,” he replied, “so you can sleep?” 
“Not likely,” TK countered, “I have been kidnapped, held at gunpoint and pistol whipped today. I deserve to share a bed with my boyfriend at the very least.” 
“But,” Carlos spluttered, “you’re hurt, and the bed’s not really big and…” 
“All I’m hearing are excuses Carlos and excuses will not be tolerated. Get in here.” 
Carlos sighed but obeyed, kicking off his shoes and he carefully slid into the space TK had left open for him, “The nurses are going to be in to check on you throughout the night,” he reminded him, “we’re going to get in trouble.” 
“No we won’t,” TK assured him, “we’re too adorable.” 
“You are such a brat,” Carlos noted with a chuckle, placing a kiss on the top of his head as he got settled beside him. 
“And you love it.” 
“I do,” Carlos assured him softly, “and I will always come for you.” 
“I know you will,” TK responded even as his breathing evened and his eyes started to close, “and I never doubted it for a second.”
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