#maybe next time will b better lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luxcuriousao3 · 3 months ago

Text

Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his arse as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Ты сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that belonged in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

less angsty ending

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost angst #simon ghost x you #ghost angst #ghost x you #ghost x reader #alpha ghost #cod fanfic #cod fic #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic

588 notes · View notes

the-winter-spider · 3 months ago

Text

Invisible | Part 13

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU (soon-ish????)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None yet lol

A/N: Yall we have bucky meeting dean next 👀👀👀👀

Masterpost

Bucky tossed his keys onto the counter, the familiar metallic clink echoing through the silent apartment. The quiet settled over him like a heavy blanket, oppressive and suffocating. The faint hum of the fridge and the soft ticking of the wall clock were the only sounds, filling the space where your laughter or the shuffle of your footsteps used to be. His eyes instinctively flicked to the small ceramic bowl by the door—the one he’d made you for your birthday last year, glazed in your favorite colors.

Empty.

His chest tightened. You’d been home.

He let out a slow, uneven breath, running a hand through his hair, the motion doing little to ease the tension coiled in his shoulders. Of course, you’d come back at some point. You lived here too. And yet, seeing the empty bowl still sent a pang of something sharp through his chest.

He knew your shifts had been just out of sync with his, making it easy to avoid each other. And while the rational part of him told him this was a good thing—that you both needed space to cool off— but the last time you and him went this long without communicating or seeing each other was the first 5 years of your lives when you hadn't met yet, even your first big fight in high school only lasted 48 hours, yet another part of him, the part that constantly replayed the fight in his head, hated it.

God, he hated it.

He hated himself.

The weight of your absence was everywhere: in the way your bedroom door remained firmly closed, where it was usually freely open, in the lingering smell of your favorite shampoo that still clung to the bathroom, in the faint indent your slippers left by the couch. You were avoiding him, and he couldn’t blame you. Hell, he was avoiding you too.

He sighed deeply, pulling his phone from his pocket when it buzzed. He lingered on his home screen of the photo of him and you. His thumb swiped across the screen, his heart sinking slightly when he saw the message from Sam.

Sam: Still no word from Nat?

Bucky: Not since that Friday. She’s still pissed, I guess.

Sam: Yeah, well… you’re lucky Y/N didn’t tell her to throw your stuff out the window.

Bucky huffed a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he typed his reply.

Bucky: Wouldn’t blame her if she did.

He stared at the screen, the soft glow illuminating his tired features. He could practically hear Natasha’s voice in his head, ripping into him with every creative insult she could muster. And, honestly? She’d be right. He was a dick. An asshole. Every name in the book and that was being kind.

But what hurt more was knowing that even now, even after everything, you were probably still defending him. You always did. You always had his back, no matter how much he screwed up. It was one of the things he both loved and hated about you—your loyalty, your unwavering faith in him. And that only made him feel worse.

Because this time? He didn’t deserve it.

With a frustrated sigh, he pocketed his phone and trudged toward his room, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. The night stretched ahead of him, and all he could think about was the looming “great date” with Kate.

He should feel something—excitement, anticipation, maybe even relief at the prospect of a distraction. But all he felt was dread, a gnawing pit in his stomach that only seemed to grow the closer it got to 5 p.m.

Kate deserved better than this.

So did you.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his face with his hands. His mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts, each one louder than the last. He knew what he had to do, what he should’ve done weeks ago. He shouldn't even have gotten more involved with someone else while his feelings were all over the place and his heart always was with you. But every time he thought about it, about ending things with Kate, his thoughts circled back to you.

What would you think? Would you even care? You never did before, did you? There was times in high school when he would see a slight sadness in your eyes when he was another girl and because of that he never let things get too serious with any of them, and it wasn't your fault directly he knew that, he was the one making the decision because in the end he would always chose you over them, and they eventually always gave him a 'You cant have a girl as your best friend!' 'Look at the way she looks at you!' 'Its her or me Bucky!'

Bucky leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. He had to get his shit together, had to figure out how to fix this mess he’d made. But first, he had to get through tonight.

The restaurant was warm, the low buzz of conversation filling the air as Bucky sat across from Kate. She looked beautiful, her dark hair falling in soft waves, a kind smile on her face. She’d dressed up for the occasion, wearing a sleek black dress that made her look effortlessly elegant.

“Glad we could finally make this work,” Kate said, her voice light as she sipped her wine. “We’ve both been so busy.”

Bucky forced a smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s nice to… slow down for a bit.”

Kate smiled, leaning on her hand as she studied him. “You seem distracted, though. Long day?”

“Something like that,” Bucky muttered, swirling his own glass of wine.

The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wondering if you were still upset, replaying every moment of the fight in his head, the look on your face when you left. And then there was the matter of Kate.

Kate was kind. She was sweet, funny, and easy to be around. But she wasn’t you. God, no one would ever be you.

She didn’t make his heart race with just a glance. She didn’t know every little quirk about him, like how he always needed coffee first thing in the morning before uttering a single syllable or how he secretly loved old noir films. How he had a secret vendetta against green m&m's because he almost choked on one as a kid and hasn't touched one since, how he preferred Hockey over Football but he would never tell Steve or Sam that. She wasn’t the one he imagined sharing his life with, that had always been you, even when things were messy, it was still you.

“Bucky?” Kate’s voice brought him back to the present, her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said quickly, straightening up. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

Kate gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’ve been off since you picked me up. If something’s going on, you can tell me.”

Bucky hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He knew he couldn’t keep stringing her along—it wasn’t fair to either of them.

He leaned forward, setting his glass down. “Kate… I need to be honest with you.”

Her smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“You’re great,” Bucky started, his voice soft but firm. “You’re smart, funny, your beautiful, perfect really and anyone would be lucky to be with you. But… my heart’s not in this.”

Kate’s expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she didn’t look surprised. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s stomach twisted. He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Kate took a deep breath, her lips pressing into a thin line before she gave him a small, bittersweet smile. “I figured as much. You’ve been… somewhere else this whole time.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his voice low. “You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart. And that’s not me.”

Kate reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on his. “Thank you for being honest. It sucks, but… I get it. I think I knew deep down this was coming.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Kate…”

She shook her head, a soft smile on her face despite the tears threatening to spill. “No, it’s okay. Really. It hurts don't get me wrong, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Bucky. You’ve always been kind, even if you’ve been distracted.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. “Honestly, I’m glad this happened now, before I got in too deep. I could see it from the start, you know? The way you look at her… and the way she looks at you.”

Bucky blinked, his heart clenching. “Kate—”

“I hope it works out between you two,” she interrupted gently. “You clearly care about each other. And even though it’s not what I wanted for us, I’m glad you told me now instead of dragging it out.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them. Finally, Kate withdrew her hand, giving him a nod. “Take care of yourself, Bucky. And… I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, but he managed to say, “Thanks, Kate.”

As she stood to leave, Bucky watched her go, a mix of relief and guilt washing over him. He had ended things with her, but now he was left with the harder task: facing you.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his messages until he found Sam’s text thread again.

Bucky: It’s done. I ended it.

Sam: Finally. Now, what’s your plan with Y/N?

Bucky stared at the screen for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. What was his plan? All he knew was that he couldn’t avoid you any longer.

High school - Junior Year

The bleachers creaked beneath you as you shifted, pulling your hoodie tighter around you against the crisp autumn air. The Friday night lights cast a golden glow over the football field, illuminating the players as they huddled together, the crowd buzzing with energy. But your attention wasn’t on the game—it was on the boy sitting next to you.

Bucky, with his ever-present leather jacket slung over his hoodie, was leaning back against the bleachers, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were soft tonight, lazily following the movement on the field.

“You’re not even watching the game,” you teased, nudging his arm with your elbow.

Bucky smirked, tilting his head to look at you. “And you are?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I’m here for moral support. Steve’s playing, remember?”

“Ah, right,” Bucky said, nodding solemnly. “Go team.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the noise of the game fading into the background as the chilly breeze swept through the bleachers.

Bucky leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You cold?”

You shrugged, even though you were. “I’m fine.”

Without a word, Bucky shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you protested, but you didn’t make a move to take it off. The warmth and the familiar scent of leather and something distinctly him were too comforting.

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’ve got a built-in heater.” He flexed his arms, grinning. “These guns.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he shot back, his voice teasing but soft.

Your heart did a little flip, and you ducked your head, hoping he didn’t notice the heat rising to your cheeks.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement as Steve jogged past the bleachers, heading toward the sideline. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes flicking between you and Bucky. He offered a quick wave before disappearing back into the game.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking as he nudged your shoulder. “You see that?”

“See what?” you asked, confused.

“The way Steve was looking over here,” Bucky said, his smirk widening as he leaned back against the bleachers. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s got a little crush.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Steve? Please.”

But Bucky wasn’t done. When Steve came jogging back after the next play, Bucky waved him over, his grin turning mischievous. “Hey, Rogers!”

Steve looked slightly hesitant but made his way over, catching his breath. “What’s up?”

Bucky nudged him playfully. “You’ve been sneaking glances over here all night. Something you wanna share with the class?”

Steve’s face turned a little red, and he quickly shook his head. “Yeah, right, Buck,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Bucky laughed, giving him a light shove. “Relax, man. Just saying, if you’ve got a crush, you’ve got good taste.”

Steve shot him a look, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “You’re impossible,” he muttered before heading back to the field.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity. “You’re such a troublemaker.”

“Hey, it’s my job,” Bucky said, leaning in close, his voice low. “Besides, he totally does.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened as Bucky’s arm brushed yours. “You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe,” Bucky said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “Maybe not.”

The air between you felt charged again, like it had earlier. But before you could say anything, the crowd erupted in cheers, breaking the moment. Steve had scored, and the entire crowd was on its feet, clapping and shouting.

“Atta boy, Steve!” Bucky cheered, clapping lazily.

You joined in, your heart still racing, but the spell was broken. The unspoken tension hung in the air, unacknowledged but palpable.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Bucky, wondering what might have happened if the game hadn’t interrupted.

Thursday Night

The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of your playlist as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup for your date with Dean. It had been a whirlwind week—four dates in five days—and each one had been incredible. Dean was sweet, funny, and attentive. Every moment with him felt easy, light.

But even as you smiled at the thought of him, a familiar ache tugged at your chest. You missed Bucky. You missed Natasha. Sure, you’d been talking to Wanda, Sam, and especially Steve, but it wasn’t the same. Natasha was your person, your closest confidante. And Bucky? Well, Bucky was Bucky.

Steve had been your rock through everything lately, always ready with a kind word or a listening ear. But even with his unwavering support, you’d noticed something different in him recently—a lingering sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was just weariness. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were burdening him with all your baggage. So, you’d started keeping things to yourself.

Like the kiss.

Your first kiss with Dean had been sweet, gentle, and everything a first kiss should be. But even in that perfect moment, your mind had wandered back to Bucky’s kiss in college—deep, passionate, and all-consuming. You shook your head, trying to push the thought away.

You were determined to move on.

Your heart skipped a beat. Before you could decide how to feel, there was a knock at the door.

Your phone buzzed with a message, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen:

Natasha: It’s me.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it. Natasha stood there, her usual confidence softened by something more vulnerable. Without a word, she stepped inside, her eyes locking onto yours.

“I love you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “I miss you. And I hate having to hear about your dates from Dean at work, pretending like i know already. I can’t stand it. I want to hear about them from you.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha continued, pacing slightly. “But I just hate seeing you sad. And yes, I’ve been mad at Bucky, but I know he’s not some horrible person. I understand his side too. Please, let’s just forget about it all, okay?”

Her words hit you like a wave, and you felt the weight of the past few days lift slightly. A small smile crept onto your face.

“Dean and I kissed,” you said, your voice light.

Natasha’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically. “Wait, what? No way, your kidding?" She paused looking you up and down, her eyes widening further "Are you seeing him again tonight?!”

You laughed, nodding "This will be 5 times this week.”

“Oh my god!! I’m so proud of you!” Natasha squealed, grabbing your hands.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m trying.”

Natasha grinned but then paused, her expression growing serious. “I heard you haven’t seen or talked to Bucky yet, this has been the longest since--"

Your smile faded "High School" You finished nodding. “No. I’ve been… avoiding him.”

She bit her lip, then hesitated before speaking again. “He broke up with Kate.”

You froze. “What?”

Natasha nodded, her voice gentle. “I just think you need all the information. Whatever you want to do with it is up to you. But I’ll always support you, no matter what.”

You stared at her, your thoughts spinning. Bucky had ended things with Kate? You’d spent the past few days convincing yourself that moving on with Dean was the right path, but now… everything felt complicated again.

Natasha squeezed your hand. “Take your time. Figure out what you want. Ill be here for anything and everything, okay?”

You nodded slowly, her words sinking in as you tried to steady your racing heart.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was a blur, your heart still racing from Natasha’s revelation. By the time you stepped out onto the street, you’d pushed the thought of Bucky breaking up with Kate to the back of your mind. Tonight wasn’t about him; it was about Dean.

You spotted him immediately, leaning casually against his car, dressed in a dark button-down that hugged his frame perfectly. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he pushed off the car, meeting you halfway.

“Wow,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you. “You look incredible, you always do"

You smiled, feeling a slight heat creep up your neck. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Dean grinned, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You linked your arm with his, and he led you to the car, opening the door with a flourish. “Such a gentleman,” you teased as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Only the best for you,” he replied with a wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.

The restaurant he chose was cozy, dimly lit with soft jazz playing in the background. The warm ambiance wrapped around you like a comforting hug as a host led you to a small table near the back, tucked away just enough to feel intimate.

Dean pulled out your chair, and you laughed softly. “Still keeping up the gentleman act, huh?”

“Always,” he said, leaning in slightly as he took his seat across from you. “Gotta keep you impressed.”

“Mission accomplished,” you replied, taking the menu from him. “So, what’s good here?”

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he watched you with an easy smile. “Everything, but you can’t go wrong with the lobster ravioli.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re getting?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a nod. “But if you want to try something else, we can share. I’m a generous guy.”

You smirked. “Good to know.”

As the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Dean had a way of making you feel at ease, his charm disarming and his humor sharp. He told stories about his travels, painting vivid pictures of cities and adventures that made you laugh and lean in closer.

“So there I was,” Dean said, his hands animated as he recounted a tale of narrowly avoiding disaster on a hiking trip. “One wrong step, and I would’ve been headfirst into the river. My buddy still doesn’t let me live it down.”

You giggled, sipping your wine. “You seem like you get into a lot of near-death situations.”

“What can I say? I live life on the edge,” he teased, his voice dropping slightly as his foot nudged yours under the table. “But don’t worry, I’m always careful when it counts.”

Your stomach fluttered at the subtle contact, and you found yourself leaning forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Is that so?”

Dean’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze flickering to your lips. “It is,” he said softly, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Like right now. Sitting here with you… I want to make sure every moment counts.”

You felt your breath hitch, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light but deliberate, sending a spark up your arm.

“I’m glad you gave me a chance,” he said, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone like you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Someone like me?”

Dean nodded, his gaze steady. “Smart, funny, beautiful… someone who knows what they want but doesn’t take themselves too seriously. You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you laughed softly, trying to deflect. “You’ve got a pretty smooth way with words, Dean.”

He grinned. “They're not just words. I mean it.”

The waiter arrived then, breaking the moment as he set your plates down with a polite smile. You and Dean pulled back slightly, but the air between you remained charged.

As you both dug into your meals, the conversation picked up again, filled with laughter and shared bites of food. Dean’s foot found yours again under the table, and this time you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed back slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

When the check arrived, Dean insisted on paying, waving off your protests. “You can get the next one,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Next one, huh?” you teased as you stood.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, offering his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. “I’m already planning it in my head.”

The night air was cool as you stepped outside, and Dean turned to you, his hand still holding yours. “Walk with me?” he asked.

You nodded, and the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the city lights casting a soft glow. Dean’s arm brushed against yours occasionally, each touch sending a warm pulse through you.

Finally, he stopped, turning to face you. His hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he murmured before leaning in.

His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss, his other hand settling on your waist. The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart race. You leaned into him, your hands resting on his chest as you let yourself get lost in the moment.

When you finally pulled back, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled, feeling a mix of warmth and a lingering ache. “Yeah… perfect.”

As you and Dean walked hand in hand through the city streets, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, filled with easy laughter. The warmth between you was undeniable, but there was still a small knot of tension in your chest, one you couldn’t quite shake.

Dean glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “So, Natasha mentioned something interesting the other day.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, curious but wary of what Nat might’ve said.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone light. “She told me about this tradition you and your friends have. Every Friday night, you all meet up at your favorite bar?”

You smiled softly. “That’s true. It’s kind of a ritual for us. We’ve been doing it for years.”

Dean nodded, his eyes warm. “She also mentioned that people you’re seeing are allowed to come along.”

You froze for a second, your heart skipping a beat. “She did, huh?”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Look, I know we haven’t put a label on anything yet, and I get that you want to take things slow. I respect that, completely. But I just want you to know that I’m in this if you are. And if you’re comfortable, I’d love to meet your friends. Natasha always talks about how close you all are, and honestly… it sounds amazing.”

You hesitated, your thoughts immediately drifting to Bucky. Things with Natasha had started to smooth over, but the idea of bringing Dean into the fold brought a new wave of uncertainty. Would Bucky even be there? And if he was, how would he react?

But then again… Bucky or no Bucky, you couldn’t avoid him forever. You literally lived together, and at some point, you’d have to face him. Maybe doing it with your friends around, with Dean by your side, would make it easier. Maybe it was time to stop letting Bucky’s presence dictate your decisions.

You took a deep breath, forcing the knot in your chest to loosen. “Okay,” you said finally, your voice steady. “Yeah, I’d love for you to meet my family.”

Dean’s eyes lit up, his smile widening. “Family, huh? That close?”

You nodded, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “Yup. They’ve been my rock through everything. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “And hey, no pressure. If it gets too much, we’ll leave. I’m there for you, no matter what.”

You smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Thank you, Dean. That means a lot.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “You’re kind of incredible, you know that?”

"You said that already" Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned into him as the two of you continued your walk, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader angst

200 notes · View notes

sweetieviktor · 3 months ago

Text

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2

summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.

content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)

author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)

» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.

you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.

“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.

“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”

» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.

when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”

“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”

» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.

» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.

» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.

“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.

“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.

jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”

soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.

“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.

“he is in love, boy.”

jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.

“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.

jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”

“i don't want to say it.”

“please?”

“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”

“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.

» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.

» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.

» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.

you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.

heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”

“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.

heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.

“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”

“but you were-”

“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, “see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.

“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.

“fuck you.”

“language, boy!”

329 notes · View notes

junrenjun · 3 months ago

Text

Dissonance

svt ot13 x beta!reader (omega!woozi focus)

genre: angst

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fem reader, woozi does not like reader lol, arguments, jealousy, a/b/o dynamics, swearing

summary: jihoon doesn't want y/n in the pack.

a/n: i am back in the writing groove with (finally) another understand update :)

Jihoon doesn’t understand why everyone likes you so much. To him, you’re just some random beta girl he doesn’t really know. Why Seungcheol and Wonwoo even thought it was a good idea to potentially make you part of the pack is beyond his brain’s comprehension.

The omega can’t fathom what it would be like to have you integrated into the pack. The thought of your scent mingling into the rest of the house makes his nose itch. The thought of you being in the pack nest makes him restless. And the thought of you being anywhere near him in heat, his most vulnerable and emotional times, makes him so nauseous he might throw up right this second.

He just doesn’t understand how you would even fit in. The pack has been established for so long you would be missing so many pieces. You missed the years that it took them to finally get settled into the routine they have today. Now you’re going to be thrown into the equation and it just messes everything up. He knows that if he doesn’t agree with letting you in, the pack won’t do it. But, it has been long enough that attachments are starting to grow.

That’s why whenever someone brings you to the den, he shuts himself into their little home studio. And he doesn’t leave until your scent fades or Jeonghan asks him to come out for “proof of life.” Even if he doesn’t have any work to do, your voice is enough motivation to slam the door shut and shove his headphones on. Stupid fucking beta.

One day, after ensuring it had been at least 15 minutes since you had left for the night, Jihoon finally ventured out into the main room. As usual, a good portion of the pack was there. Still chatty about whatever show they had been watching when you were here, he ignored them and steered himself to the kitchen.

The room didn’t offer any reprieve though, because Mingyu was standing there peeling an orange and raising a brow at the omega’s entrance. “You could make it less obvious that you don’t like her, you know?”

Jihoon whipped his head toward the alpha at the sudden attack. “I never said I didn’t like her.”

Mingyu scoffed at him. “Yeah because you totally don’t hide in your studio every time she comes over. She thinks you hate her. Maybe at least try to have a conversation with her?”

The omega pretended like he was mulling over the thought. He really wasn’t, but it seemed to appease the alpha. “I’ll think about it Gyu.”

Mingyu scoffed again. “Think about it? You’re going to think about talking to someone who’s here multiple times a week? You can’t hide from her forever Ji.”

Jihoon went to defend himself, but the alpha cut him off. “If she truly makes you that uncomfortable, then we’ll let her go. But I don’t want to do that if this is just you being too stubborn to try. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. She really does want to get to know you.”

He tries to ignore the pit in his stomach that Mingyu’s words cause. Instead of responding, he chooses to grab a protein bar and turn back to head to his room. His guilty conscience gets the better of him though, because he pauses for a beat in the doorway and calls out to the alpha, “I’ll sit with you guys at movie night next week.” He misses the smile that crosses Mingyu’s face.

When he enters his bedroom, Minghao eyes him, but doesn’t say anything. At least he has the ability to keep to himself about this issue. Maybe because Minghao himself was nervous about Y/N’s integration into the pack too. Maybe it’s just because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Whatever it is, Jihoon is grateful for the silence.

Once they settle into bed for the night though, Jihoon tosses and turns restlessly. You and the upcoming movie night are fresh in his mind. He shouldn’t have given in to Mingyu. Now he has to face you in front of the rest of the pack. The thoughts continue to keep him up, so he turns toward his roommate’s bed. “Minghao,” he whispers.

A small hum comes from the omega’s mouth, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Jihoon takes this as a cue to continue. “I agreed to sit with y/n and the rest of you guys at movie night next week.”

Now he really has Minghao’s attention. His eyes pop open and a questioning eyebrow shoots up. “Are you sure you want to? No one forced you right?”

Jihoon is appreciative of the omega putting his packmate’s feelings first. “No, no one forced me. But I’m scared. She’s basically a stranger.”

Minghao hums in response, closing his eyes tiredly. “Only a stranger to you, Ji. The rest of us know her now.” And with that, his roommate turns around his bed, a signal that the conversation is over and he should go to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come to him that night, nor the rest of the following week.

When Jihoon walks into the living room the next Friday, you’re tucked against Wonwoo’s side, chatting happily with Soonyoung, who sits at your feet. There is an apparent lack of scent emanating from you, evident that you’re wearing blockers. Two sticky patches on your neck peek out from under your sweater.

Half of the pack has already gathered in the room, filling up most of the seating. He’s grateful for Jeonghan, who pulls Seungkwan into his lap, clearing up an empty space at the end of the couch furthest from you. He doesn’t hesitate to sit down.

Jeonghan leans over to whisper in his ear. “Thanks for coming tonight. She’s excited you wanted to join us for once.” Jihoon responds with a dismissive wave of his hand. The older omega frowns, but leaves him alone.

Jun has taken control of the remote, scrolling through Netflix in search of something to watch. When he hovers over a movie to watch the preview, Minghao says something to him in Chinese and the two begin bickering. Chan is scrolling through his phone, legs tossed up over Mingyu’s lap, who runs his hand absentmindedly over the bare skin. Joshua and Seungcheol finally enter the room, a large bowl of popcorn in the alpha’s hands. It feels so normal, so domestic, that Jihoon can almost forget your presence.

Almost. Your conversation with Soonyoung has been interrupted, the alpha having gotten up to join Joshua where he sits. Seungcheol takes his place at your feet. Seconds later, the pack alpha’s eyes are on him and yours follow suit not longer after. “Ah, hello Jihoon-ssi,” you call out softly.

You don’t use honorifics with anyone else in the pack, so hearing the title attached to the end of his name makes his heart ache. He’s not quite sure why though. “Hello Y/N-ssi,” he says back, tensely.

That’s all the conversation really amounts to. You send him a hint of a smile, before turning back to the man in front of you. He fixes his gaze back on the TV, hoping to once again forget you are there. Jun and Minghao seemed to have finally settled on a movie, the opening credits of some random rom-com rolling across the screen.

Jihoon allows himself to get absorbed into the movie, tuning out the whispering of those that have yet to start watching. The movie is honestly pretty bad, but he’ll do anything to ignore the way you play with Seungcheol’s hair while Wonwoo’s arm is thrown over your shoulders.

Maybe 15 minutes in, he can hear the whispering pick up again, but he elects to pretend it’s not happening. He’s caught off guard seconds later when your scent starts seeping into the room slowly. His head whips around and he catches Seungcheol carefully peeling off your blocker patches.

Jihoon’s not sure what about this image has him reacting the way it does. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re still a stranger to him. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re being somewhat intimate with his pack alpha. Maybe it’s the fact that the action means Seungcheol is seeking out your scent, instead of someone from his pack. Maybe it’s all of them combined, he’s not sure.

Before he knows it, he’s standing up from his position on the couch and growling. It’s nothing close to an alpha’s growl. But it’s also not a normal, half-hearted, omega growl. It’s loud, it’s high-pitched, and it screams possessiveness. And it’s directed right towards you.

You’re staring at him like a deer in headlights. Honestly, the rest of the pack is too. No one, himself included, was expecting that.

“Jihoon!” Jeonghan scolds from next to him, reaching out to grab his hand. He yanks his arm out of the older omega’s grip before he can be pulled back down onto the couch. Wonwoo moves his body a little bit protectively in front of you and asks if you are alright. Jihoon bares his teeth at the thought.

You glance over to him once before responding. “Maybe I should head out,” you whisper. “I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

The pack responds in an uproar. Jihoon doesn’t care to listen to their protests. All he can hear is the ringing in his ears. “Leave,” he says, “you’re just a useless beta anyways.” He can vaguely hear the pack’s shouts and Seungcheol’s warning growl, but they’re angrily pushed to the back of his mind.

It’s like the insult doesn’t even register in your brain. No tears cloud your eyes. Your lip doesn’t jut out. Your scent doesn’t even sour. You take a breath. “That’s fresh coming from someone who wishes he were one.”

It stings. He hates that you barely know him and yet you read him like a book. Uncovered his wounds from the deepest places in his mind just to throw them out on the table for everyone else to see. He hates you for it.

Another growl leaves his mouth and before he knows it, he’s throwing himself at you. It’s to no avail though, because Wonwoo is shoving his body between you two and someone is tugging him away by the waist. He gives another growl at whoever decided to put their hands on him.

The sound is cut short when the hands move and one proceeds to wrap around the back of his neck. He’s being…scruffed? He glimpses out of the corner of his eye and spots his pack alpha. Seungcheol is scruffing him. He’s livid. Pissed even. But his stupid, cursed omega body goes limp at the touch. Fucking instincts.

Seungcheol turns the omega’s body towards him and spits out, “You’ve done enough here. Go.” His body is shoved toward the hallway. The pack alpha doesn’t have to tell him twice. He turns promptly on his heel and stomps off to the studio.

His footsteps aren’t loud enough to drown everything out though, because he can hear Soonyoung faintly say, “hyung don’t you think that was a bit much?” He can also hear the sound of the front door closing, signaling that you had finally left the den. He doesn’t know why his heart aches at the thought.

It’s at least an hour before anyone interrupts his little pity party in the studio. Surprisingly, it’s Jun who finally enters. He sets down a plate of dinner on the desk wordlessly, before dropping down onto the couch on the opposite wall. Jihoon spins in his chair to face him. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Jun sits there, picking at the rice on his own plate. “Not unless you want me to,” he says without looking up.

Jihoon pushes his food around for a little bit in silence, before finally opting to eat. If he didn’t eat now, Jun would probably tell Jeonghan, who would force him to eat later. Anyways, he didn’t realize how hungry he truly was. The plate is clean within a few minutes.

He sets the plate down on his desk, and when he turns back around, Jun is offering the remnants of his own meal. It’s mainly white rice, unsurprisingly. When Jihoon starts eating again, Jun finally speaks. “Didn’t know you could growl like that.”

He chokes on his rice a little. He clears his throat and mumbles, “I didn’t either.”

The man across from him hums. “I was scared at first too, Ji,” he says, eyes softening. “It’s okay to feel what you are feeling.”

Jihoon is…confused. “I thought you liked her too hyung,” he asks curiously.

“I do,” Jun responds, a faraway look in his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t terrified at the prospect of bringing someone new in. All we have known romantically, intimately, physically for the past few years is each other. The thought of getting to know another person like that is scary. We aren’t mad at you for feeling normal feelings. That wouldn’t be fair.”

There’s a pause as he lets Jihoon take in his words, before continuing. “What isn’t fair though, is you taking it out on her. It’s scary for her too. We only have to get acquainted with one new person. She’s learning about all thirteen of us. That’s overwhelming.”

Another pause. Longer, like he’s debating what to say. “I’m not asking you to love her. But I am asking you to give her a chance, because the Jihoon I know wouldn’t call someone useless after exchanging three words with them.”

Jihoon is silent. Jun takes his lack of response as his cue to leave. He collects their empty plates wordlessly and heads toward the door. But before he can turn the handle, Jihoon stops him. “She’s right.”

Jun whips his head around. “What?”

“She’s right,” he repeats. “About me wishing I was a beta. I think I’m…I…I don’t know,” he says, burying his face in his hands. “I think I’m jealous of her,” he finally says.

The alpha stares back at him with wide eyes. “Oh,” he says, tentatively. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I…” Jihoon starts, raising his head from his palms. “I think I’m jealous of the way she gets to interact with us without having these weird instincts. She doesn’t have to worry about us seeing her in her most vulnerable, helpless state, because she doesn’t go through heats or ruts. She doesn’t have to worry about keeping her pheromones at bay when your body all of a sudden decides it’s horny or it’s angry or it’s stressed. She doesn’t have to worry about the innate desire to submit or to dominate. All that stupid biology stuff that shouldn’t even matter anymore. She doesn’t have to deal with that because she’s a beta and I wish I could be like that.”

Jun simply raises an eyebrow at him. “I think your idea of a beta is a little off from what she actually experiences, Ji. She feels all that stuff too, it’s just a little different…maybe not as intense. You would know if you would actually hear her out,” his words are firm, but his tone is soft.

Jihoon looks down at the floor. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.”

“Alright,” the alpha finally says after a beat. “You’re going to give her a chance then?”

“Yeah. I’ll give her a chance.”

#lu writes #understand series #svt #svt x reader #svt ot13 x reader #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi x reader #a/b/o dynamics #lee jihoon x reader #svt imagine #poly!svt

165 notes · View notes

redstarwriting · 2 years ago

Text

the clash | i. hey, ho! let’s go!

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie

a/n: it’s here 😎 no but fr, i proudly present a new series focusing on hobie brown, loml. i‘m trying to make it gn, so if you spot anything that needs fixing lemme know. i also did include a bit of a description of what you look like, but it’s mainly just to affirm the gothic spider-person look. and if you don’t like it, you can just pretend it isn’t there, my character designer brain just took a hold while explaining lol. enjoy y’all, there’s more where this came from 👀

now reading: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: ii. time bomb

───────────────────────────────

In theory, the two of you should have been great friends. Best friends, even. He’s called Spider-Punk, and you’re called Spider-Goth, this alone made Miguel assume the two of you would get along better than all of the Peters. Unfortunately for Miguel, he was dead wrong. It was fine at first, a good introduction. “Spider-Punk, meet Spider-Goth,” Miguel says, motioning to the two of you. You simultaneously turn your heads towards him, “Don’t call me that.” You look at each other, seemingly sizing each other up after speaking the same words at the same time. In reality, the two of you were checking each other out, but no one needs to know that. “Fine. Hobie, meet (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Hobie,” Miguel says as Peter B. Parker hops next to him, excited to see the two of you interact. Your gaze first fell on his many piercings, which suited him very well. Almost as well as the spikes coming out of the shoulders of his tattered denim vest. “See somethin’ you like?” you hear his thick cockney accent, and you shrug. “The constant changing makes it difficult,” you say, causing him to shrug. “I hate consistency,” he says, staring you up and down. “I like the guitar,” you say, and he nods. “Everyone does.” You raise an eyebrow, and he takes in the way your heavy black eyeliner makes the expression look more exaggerated than it is. His eyes go down, taking in your outfit, which seems to be varying in different gothic styles, but overall is all black with silver studs, spikes, and charms sticking out everywhere. He notices the two of you share a liking for combat boots, and perhaps his favorite thing about you are the intricate and all black spider-web tattoos on your hands crawling their way up your arms. Hobie clicks his tongue. “Goth, eh?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem with you or something?”

“Feisty for a goth.”

“Instigative as all punks are.”

“What… is going on,’ Peter whispers to Miguel who shakes his head. “I thought they would be best friends?” Peter suggests as he places a binky in Mayday’s mouth. “I did too…” Miguel says, “Maybe this is just a way these types of alternative people talk?”

“Tal vez tengas razón… Hobie does love to be abrasive for no reason,” Miguel concludes, and Peter shrugs and they zone in on the two of you again. “...I don’t suppose there’s no reason we shouldn’t get along,” Hobie suggests, raising an eyebrow at you. “I agree. We probably think similar things… for the most part.”

“For the most part, huh?”

“Just that we have similar ideas, but most likely not the same,” you respond, and he crosses his arms, his guitar moving loosely behind his back. “Opinions on anarchy. Go.”

“It’s the ideal society—”

“Good start—”

“But completely unrealistic.”

“Excuse me?” Hobie looks at you with a glowering expression. “Humans are inherently assholes. Selfish, shitty, assholes. As amazing as it would be to have anarchy running rampant,” you shrug, “It’s unlikely it will ever happen.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Hobie says, exasperated, “I mean you actually think that we can’t achieve it? You get enough people angry, and they rebel, they push for anarchy. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve led a rebellion.” You roll your eyes. “And do you live in a perfect anarchical society now?”

“Not yet, but we’re gettin’ there,” he clenches his teeth, and you sigh. “I admire your blatant idiocy disguised as an ambitious dream,” you say, and he huffs. “Would you just talk like a normal fuckin’ person and stop usin’ these dumbass words and shitty poetic language?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, or are you as deaf as your ideologies?” This time you scoff. “I don’t have the time to be berated by someone who lives in their own delusions to try and feel the slightest bit less angry at the world for giving him the shitty cards he was dealt.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to the rubbish ramblings of a miserable twat who digs desperately into their black hole of a heart to try and feel somethin’ when the truth is they don’t even know what they stand for,” he fires back. You glare at him. He glares at you. As if on cue you both flip each other off before you web away. Peter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, that went horribly!”

Miguel punches him on the shoulder, resulting in a soft ‘ow’ and a tiny angry noise from Mayday. “What the hell was that Hobart?” Miguel nearly yells and Hobie snaps his head towards him. “Don’t call me that, neither! They don’t get it. It’s not enough to want to make a difference in the world. You need to take action. Goths love to sit on the sidelines and lament instead of playing the offensive,” Hobie explains, a deep frown on his face, “Watch out for them. They might not be able to do what it takes when it counts.” Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hobie, you’re supposed to show them around—”

“No, fuck that. I’m not goin’ anywhere near that gothic monstrosity,” Hobie says shaking his head in defiance. “We made a deal. You would show all the younger spider—”

“Yeah, well you can shove that deal up your fuckin’ ass, mate, I’m not doin’ shit for them!”

“Okay, okay, calm down there, man. Why don’t you just ask Gwen to help you? Maybe Miles and Pavitr too? That way you fulfill your promise, 'cause I know promises are important to you, and you won’t have to talk to them!” Peter reasons and Hobie looks over at him. He furrows his eyebrows. That would help the situation. And maybe he’d be able to help you see just how garbage your take was with Gwen on his side. “Fine. But I’m not doin’ it cause I need help, and I’m not doin’ it because you told me to. I’m doin’ it cause it’s the last thing that they’d want,” Hobie says, pointing at Peter while saying it, flipping Miguel off, and then webbing away. Peter looks at Miguel who is clenching his fists… and his jaw. “You seem stressed, but don’t worry about it. Not all of us need to like each other, I mean there’s so many there’s no possible way we all could and look at you, you hate Miles even though he’s awesome and—”

“Shut. Up. Peter,” Miguel growls, stalking away while mumbling various things in Spanish. Peter looks down at Mayday. “Tough crowd,” he says as she giggles up at him.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @weyrrii*

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

2K notes · View notes

verdemint · 5 months ago

Text

So this video is my beznaia thesis! You can really see their dynamic and how they work with each other. This is just after India last year, Bezz won the race (his third of the year) and Pecco crashed out of the race. You have Bezz "trashtalking" Pecco a little bit to cheer him up, but it's not mean, Pecco is clearly in on the joke. And then the interviewer is trying to get Pecco to talk about his fall and pecco is kinda uncomfortable/pissed off and Bezz tries to direct the attention of the interviewer back at him, letting Pecco go. And then we have Bezz talking about his friendship with Pecco and how much Pecco is a real friend to him.

They treat each other as equals, they love trash-talking and fighting a bit but it's clear how Pecco is much more comfortable in front of cameras whenever Bezz is also there. You can feel how they truly value each other presence and the comfort they find in each other, it's just super cute to witness lol. It's obvious how much Bezz cares and respects Pecco, Pecco is just "much more mature!" a true adult in a way, and it's true in all aspects of their life, but Bezz is also the only one able to bring Pecco down to earth in a way, he sees right through him. All the academy guys are very much a little pack, always protecting each other in interviews and stuff but these two are each other comfort zone in that insane sport. This is getting a bit RPF but idc, it's just such a cute friendship :)

Translation lol

*Pecco is doing a gesture, "ti faccio un culo così" meaning something like "next time when I get u! I'm gonna beat u!" OBV HES JOKING*

Bez: “Come here! ... Do I have to come to you?...He wants to let me have my moment! … Can I say something tho? Whenever I’m in front of him during the race he crashes out”

Pecco arrives there

Pecco: “I don't want to be like parsley (lol meaning someone who’s everywhere, all the time, intruding in Bezz’ moment)” I: “What did u say Bezz?” B: “Whenever I’m in front he crashes out!” P: “I feel the mental pressure” B: “He’s not used to it, usually he’s always the one in front of me, the few times I’m first he can't deal with that!” … the interviewer starts talking with Pecco saying that sometimes it's more difficult to lead a race and not make any mistakes than being second and trying to catch up, asking Pecco if that's maybe why he crashed out. Pecco a bit annoyed :“I crashed out of the race coz I crashed out of the race … Bez to the interviewer: “Stop asking him stuff, he’s angry after the race, it’s normal!” Pecco: “Let's talk about Bez, he was the best today!” Pecco runs away lol I: “Anyway, the relationship you two have is beautiful.” Bezz: “Pecco and I are close friends, I’ve found a fantastic friend in Pecco. It’s difficult sometimes being rivals and friends, but we’re both adults and mature, Pecco a little bit more!” Pecco is looking and touching the bike, “fake-checking” the brakes Bez: “This time I was there! I was braking better eh” Back to some trash-talking

#then the other guy goes on to say how hes never seen a friendship like theirs in the sport #two guys being so close to each other and being rivals on track #how shocked he was #(hes writing beznaia fics with me :) )#no but seriously its just adorable how much they love and care for each other #beznaia #BEZNAIA THESIS #bez #peccoooooooo #this is borderline rpf but idc #pecco bagnaia #marco bezzecchi #this lil rant is mostly for me lol #vi translating

155 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

Text

leveling the playing field

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. anyway no warnings for you guys today besides maybe this is boring lol

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: young coryo has me in a death grip rn guys this could be a problem-

next part

Fists clenched at your sides, you storm up to the front of the hall, staring intently at the Dean. You knew your odds were better pleading with Dr. Gaul, but that was a task far from your mind. "Miss Y/L/N, I don't have time for your petty complaints at the moment." He dismisses you before you even reach an appropriate distance to start your discussion.

"I was waiting for this." Festus chuckles, commenting on how none of the chosen mentors had a chance to process anything or even speak before you were stomping down the centre aisle, between all their seats, and up towards the podium where Dean Highbottom now stood.

Coriolanus found his gaze following you, despite his better judgment telling him to focus on the subject- scratch that, problem, at hand: his assignment of the mentorship of Lucy Gray Baird. She was fiery, that's for sure, and upon first impressions, she reminded him of you.

"You think I couldn't handle it, is that it?" You almost shout, discarding all formality in favour of getting answers.

"You knew the qualifications, Miss Y/L/N." The Dean sighs.

"I got one B over a year ago! God, hold a grudge much? You're miserable!" People are staring now, noticeably, but you don't care. You're used to getting what you want, and the one time you don't, it comes back to bite you in the ass over a year later.

"Then you should have done better. Drop this or I'll demerit you." He states in response, clearly hardly caring. You huff, face red as you storm off again, making a point of slamming the door open so hard it hits the wall with a bang.

Coriolanus never understood fully why the Dean let you parade around with this attitude directed at him, but never so much as lifted a finger to punish you. If he had made a scene like that, he would have been expelled on the spot. "I should go after her." He turns to look at Sejanus as he's getting up, quickly gathering himself to follow after you. He had little interest in staying anyway.

"I'll go." Coriolanus stands, placing his hand on Sejanus' chest to stop him. "You stay. I'll sort her out."

"Coriolanus Snow, off to sedate his girlfriend again." Arachne teases as he walks off, leaving Sejanus to defend his name in his stead. He'd much prefer talking you down to uselessly explaining to the other kids in your class that the two of you were nothing more than friends. It was a wasteful endeavour. You were just the only one who's presence he could stand in a social capacity.

You made it outside, pacing the large front steps of the academy, fighting the urge to rip off your skirt and burn it right there. Along with the rest of the building.

"Y/N." You pause when you hear the door close behind someone, looking up to see your friend.

"Coryo." You reply, continuing with your fruitless crusade at this point.

"What happened to not caring about the prize?" He asks, stepping down so he's level with you on the staircase, getting in your path so you can no longer pace.

"I don't care about the prize." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's not about that."

"I doubt that." Coriolanus raises an eyebrow at you. You had told him at length you didn't care about the prize when you found out you weren't even in the running, because your parents could pay your tuition anyway. He envied your privilege, but he had never envied you.

"No, it's not." You insist. "I got one less than stellar grade one time and now I'm missing out on this opportunity- effectively throwing away any shot I have at Gamemaker."

"That's dramatic." Your friend replies. "I think you're better off than me."

You scoff. "Oh, boo hoo, Coriolanus Snow. I'd take Lucy Gray in a second."

"Just because she can cause a scene doesn't mean she'll last a minute in the games." He replies.

"Duh, it's not about winning. It's about the experience, it's about-"

"Being on TV?" He asks, and despite his serious expression you know it's a joke.

"Even you know I'm not that shallow. I'm not Arachne." You can't help but smile. He does too, for just a second. "And frankly, I'm offended at the insinuation."

"Then enlighten me, Y/N Y/L/N." Coriolanus prompts, and suddenly your demeanor changes in a way he would deem hardly noticeable if he hadn't known you for years.

You sigh, dropping your tense shoulders. "My father will be up in arms when he finds out." You answer, voice in a whisper despite being alone out here. "I'm an embarrassment to my family name."

"That's impossible." He shakes his head quickly. "You're their pride and joy. A gem of the Capitol."

"Ah, but for how long?" You reply, poking his chest. "Until the oldest Y/L/N child doesn't get a mentorship? Until my brother does in three years and I am an irrelevant face in the University halls and he is winning the Plinth prize?" The small smile on your face fades as you look down, thinking over the consequences for the first time.

"Perhaps, but one day that will come back to bite anyone who doubted you when you're the new head Gamemaker. I'll be sure of it." He nods, and your smile returns.

"Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem, I salute you." You giggle, raising your hand in a salute. You had heard his cousin say that to him once, two or three years ago by now, and you were not prepared to let it go. You can tell it was something he believed, despite the misshapen buttons on his dress shirt and the weight he'd steadily lost over all the years you'd known him. Who were you to deny him his ambitions? Everyone else was fooled, so you would act as though you were as well. The same way he had habitually ignored the bruises on your arms and under your makeup the day after you brought home that B grade last year.

He just nods in response, jokingly tugging at his vest in pride.

"I hate to tell you that I will have to decline your generous offer." You say, and he looks confused. "I don't need your charity. I'll make it so you'd be a fool not to hire me, Mister President."

You sit down on the stairs, looking out at the city. He joins you a moment later, dusting off the ground beneath him before letting his clothes touch the surface.

"So, how are you feeling?" You ask, sick now of talking about yourself.

"Honestly, not great." Coriolanus answers. "She'll be first down, and I'll be out. We're about at odds with each other, I have no shot at the prize now."

"I don't know, Coryo." You smile a little, bumping his shoulder with your own as you try to reassure him. "Lucy Gray has a or two fight in her. I can tell."

"She reminds me of you, a little bit."

"Is that a bad thing?" You chuckle.

"No." He shakes his head. "You never back down from a fight. Even if you should."

You laugh, turning a little to hide the burning in your cheeks. "I suppose I could see the resemblance. I'm no stranger to telling someone to kiss my ass."

"That's true." He nods, smiling but not quite laughing. You're not sure you could remember seeing him laugh, not since Felix fell down the stairs in the lecture hall a few years ago and screamed like a girl. "Maybe you could help me."

"Help you? How?" You ask, brow furrowed as you look over at him. Whatever it is you'll agree. He knows too much about you for you to deny him anyway, and it's not like you really had anything to lose. If you couldn't have the Plinth prize, you'd want it to go to Coriolanus.

"With Lucy Gray. I don't even know where to start, what to think, what to do." He explains.

"Well..." You think about it for a second. "If you want her to listen to you in any capacity, she'll have to trust you. So be nice. And maybe convince her to sing again. People were talking, that's what you want. It's the best you can do."

He nods, sitting up straighter. "Thank you, Y/N. I have to go." Before you can respond, he's gone back into the building behind you. You sigh, calmer now, despite dreading the prospective task of having to go home and face your father.

"Mister Snow, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr. Gaul asks, readjusting her gloves without looking up at the boy as she throws what he assumes to be some kind of food into a blacked-out tank in front of him.

"I'd like Y/N Y/L/N to be my partner in the mentorship," Coriolanus states, making her pause.

"Why?" She asks simply, resuming her task.

"I believe she would be an asset for Lucy Gray."

"They do have a similar... spark. Don't they?" Dr. Gaul nods a little bit to herself. "But what makes you think that this wouldn't be an unfair advantage?"

"It wouldn't be an advantage. More like an experiment." He answers, effectively piquing the doctor's interest. "We can observe the benefits and faults of two mentors versus one, moving into the next games, and the effect of choosing based on compatibility, rather than random, careless selection."

Dr. Gaul hums, wiping off her leather gloves with a cloth as she thinks it over. "And this would have nothing to do with your relationship and sympathies towards Miss Y/L/N, correct?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Miss Y/L/N certainly doesn't get any sympathy from me." It's not a lie, at least he doesn't perceive it to be. You would be an asset to his cause, to his deliverance of the prize, and likely the most pleasant person to work with, ironically.

"I will think about it." Dr. Gaul states. "But the prize will not be awarded to her in any capacity, you must understand."

Maybe he does feel bad for you. He's entitled to that prize, no doubt, but it's hard to picture a world where you wouldn't be the runner-up; even if that is his reality. "I understand." He nods, before turning to leave.

"Oh, and Mister Snow." Dr. Gaul draws his attention once more, causing him to stop and look back at her. "Don't let her charm you."

"Y/N!" You look up from your textbook toward the door, knowing your brother will be opening it any second after he calls you. Surely enough, he does. "Coriolanus Snow is here. He wants to speak with you."

"Can you show him up to the library?" You ask, quickly wiping your reddened eyes.

"He's there with dad already." Your brother tells you and you sniff, nodding a little bit. "Thank you. Tell them I'll be right there."

You quickly throw on a sweater, double-checking in the mirror that you don't look like you were just crying before leaving. Besides a little bit of redness around your eyes and blotchiness on your chest covered by the sweater, you should be okay.

"Well, thank you for extending your influence on my daughter's behalf. I owe you a great deal." You hear your dad speaking from down the hall as you get closer. "Though, I wouldn't fault you if you changed your mind. I understand she will be a burden on you."

"No, sir. It would be an honour to work with her." You hear Coryo say as you step into the door frame.

You knock gently on the open door, alerting them both of your presence. "Y/N." Your father says, nodding toward your friend. "Coriolanus has pulled some strings to try and help you maintain what's left of your reputation."

You sniff and nod, looking over at Coryo as he stands across from your dad in your library, posture perfect like a soldier standing at attention. His professionalism will always impress you, it never falters in the presence of others. "Thank you." You make an effort to smile at him, which he politely and uncomfortably returns. "Could you give us a moment?" You request, returning your attention to your dad.

He nods and shakes Coryo's hand before bumping into you as he exits the room, pausing before leaning down to whisper to you.

Coriolanus watches, your eyes widening for just a moment while your dad speaks to you and then you nod, thanking him quietly before he leaves. You stand there awkwardly staring at each other for a second while you listen to his footsteps descend the stairs, and then hear the door to his study close. As soon as it does, you're quickly walking up to your friend and throwing your arms around his waist, your head leaning into his chest.

He freezes for a second before hugging you back. "Thank you, Coryo." You whisper. "I won't let you down."

"Are you okay?" He asks, resisting the urge to just rest his chin on the top of your head and pull you closer. It's been ages since he's been hugged like this, and though it's meant more as a comfort to you, it's consolatory to him as well.

You nod, snapping out of it and quickly pulling away, taking a respectful step back. "Yeah, yes. Sorry." You clear your throat, quickly readjusting your sweater.

"Don't be." He shakes his head quickly, brows still furrowed as he looks you over. He doesn't know what you came home to, but he has a strong theory as to what the cause of your tear-stained cheeks could be, and it certainly wasn't an empty fridge like his.

You stare at each other for another moment before you look away. "Uh, so, you spoke to the Dean?"

"No, he despises me." He answers. "Dr. Gaul was more sympathetic to the cause."

"Dr. Gaul and 'sympathetic' have never been used in the same sentence before." You tease.

"Well, she likes us for some reason."

"Thank god." You chuckle, slightly shaking your head.

"But... seriously, are you okay?" He asks again, this time blatantly looking you over. While embarrassing, it does feel nice to see that someone cares, that someone noticed. The remnants of pity behind his eyes makes you almost ill.

"Fine." You nod in confirmation. "Would you like something to eat?" You offer, leveling the playing field.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie

fill out my form linked here to join my taglist!

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #tbosas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfiction #thg fanfic

935 notes · View notes

runawaybridee · 5 days ago

Text

minors DNI!! wrote this after I saw this, I aged down all might a bit (in his early forties), reader had a crush on him as a teenager but they didn't meet until adulthood, reader is an arm biter lol, reader is gender neutral but slightly implied afab, virgin allmight!! handjob, kind of sub all night, oral (m!receiving), big dick all might ofc, maybe pt. 2??

request r open!

being almost twenty years younger than your pro-hero boyfriend was already an issue. but finding out he's a virgin? oh, that.. that's what got you.

it's not like that's a bad thing! it's just.. he's forty-three, and a super sexy pro-hero! any woman would want to fuck him. you sure do.

you'd never tell him this, but you totally had a crush on him when you were a teenager. any girl who saw his debut did, those muscles had people in a chokehold. you included.

toshinori doesn't mind when you bite his arms, he knows it's affectionate. but everytime you so much as kiss him.. he's painfully hard. he covers it with a pillow or blanket or excuses himself to the restroom to rub one out.

it's pathetic, really. he's forty-three years old, not some hormonal teenage boy. but you just make him feel things he's never felt before.

when he's home from work, he greets you with a soft forehead kiss. you smile up at him, "how was your day, love?" you ask quietly. "good, darling, quite an easy day."

you hum softly, sitting up. "lay with me?" you ask softly.

toshinori can't help but give in, sitting right next to you on the couch and tugging you into his lap.

even outside of his large form, he's tall, albeit skinny.. but still very fit.

he feels your teeth against his bicep and huffs. groaning, he feels himself harden. but this time, your knees squeeze his thighs. he looks up at you, since he's lying back and you're on top of him, it's clear who's in charge.

jesus, he could cum in his pants right now. he thinks he's about to as the fat of your thigh rubs against his cock.

he inhales sharply, "what're you doing, darling?" he asks softly. your lips press against his jaw, peppering kisses all over. "taking care of my boyfriend."

"c'mon, toshi, let me take care of you.." you murmur against his neck, "fuck.. o-okay," he nods eagerly. you laugh softly, "never been touched, hm?" he groans, shaking his head. "n-never."

you pull back slightly, licking your lips. your eyes trail over his body, his raging boner. you're practically drooling already. "hand or mouth?" you ask softly.

"both, fuck," his hips buck up against nothing. he feels you tug on his pants and lifts his hips to help you out. you bite your lip, slipping your hand into his boxers.

his cock is huge, it's long, probably seven or eight inches. a sound escapes his lips, like a whimper.

you slowly begin to stroke him, your forehead pressed against his. "feels good?" toshinori nods quickly, "s-so good."

he tilts his chin up to press his lips against yours, moaning into your mouth. he's never felt better. he'd rather do this all day than save lives, honestly.

you pull back and slowly lower yourself to the floor, helping him sit up.

he runs his fingers through your hair as you take him in your mouth, his toes curl and he pulls your hair. "fuck, sorry, baby." he whines.

you hum around his dick, looking up at him. your eyes are the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he could die looking into your eyes and be happy.

you could shoot him and he'd thank you, as long as you'd suck his cock like this again.

it's only been a few minutes, and he's already close. "b-babe, i'm gonna.. fuck--" he whimpers. he feels you suck even harder, as if determined to have him cum.

this is even better than he imagined, one million percent better.

he holds your head in place as he cums down your throat, too caught up in his own pleasure to care about obliterating your throat. he'll make up for it later..

after a few moments, you pull off of him, panting a bit. he pulls you up into his lap, feeling your wet underwear against his thigh. his eyes darken as he stares at you, his fingers slowly moving into your pants.

virgin toshi is real

masterlist , taglist

taglist: @momoewn

#bhna #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #mha x you #my hero academia #bhna x reader #all might #all might x reader #all might x you #toshinori yagi #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi x reader #smut #all might smut #runawaybridee

89 notes · View notes

cursedcola · 2 years ago

Note

Ok ok so you know the thing where it's like 'hey trust exercise' where person A runs up to person B and jumps in their arms? The one that became a meme with the hot coffee....

that. just that. Could you please write something for it using characters from twisted wonderland? Thank you!

A/N: I do know the thing lol. I think this is a super cute idea and will have some fun with it hehe...Sorry if it's not too long. I am writing this in between classes just to have a little mental break :) I also think this will work better with baby headcannons so I can do more characters. Since you did not specify any characters, I will be self indulgent. Prompt: Trust exercise! Do they catch you? Format: Baby headcannons huhuhu Characters: Everyone. Literally Everyone. I feel inspired for some reason. Warnings: None :) Tooth-ache fluff. Also not proofread. Likely grammar/spelling errors

Heartslabyul Dorm

Riddle Rosehearts

Catches you by a millisecond.

The moment he sees you running he instinctively drops the books in his hands

Yells for you to stop and puts his hands out in defense

Instinctively opens them when you jump and boom. Catch

My man has noodle arms. They instantly start to shake and you get dropped on your bum

Half-angry that you put him on the spot, and half-humiliated for dropping you. He is left shell-shocked for a moment before the fuse is lit

"What on EARTH were you thinking? Must you behave so childishly all the time?! Sometimes I wonder if you WANT me to have a heart attack....*sigh* come on. Get up. Are you injured at all?"

He thinks it's silly for you to test his 'trust,' like that. Don't do it again. Next time just talk to him.

….secretly relieved that he caught you.

Trey Clover

Arms are open before you even jump

The moment you started to speed up, he knew what would come next. It flusters him, and his ears burn but he lets you have your fun

Wraps one arm around your back and the other holds one of your legs around his waist. Nice and secure :)

Laughs a little bit before setting you down carefully

"Well, that was an excitable greeting. Maybe warn me next time, okay? What if I was holding something?"

Shakes his head in disbelief that you'd test him like this. Oh well. Its over now Best for him not to think on it.

Learns that Cater showed you the prank on Magicam, and makes his tea extra sweet. Revenge > cavities.

Cater Diamond

Does not catch you. In fact, he side-steps you.

You're quite literally sprawled on the floor and he's just standing there all smug. What? Don't even look at him like that. There's no way he could have caught you without toppling over

Cater prefers to not have a face full of dirt, thank you very much

He knows what you were trying to do, and also purposefully chose to 'fail'

"Hmm~ Now why would you use such a silly method to test me? Don't we take enough exams in class (Y/N)? You're no fair..."

Despite the taunts, he holds out a hand to help you up. He'll clean your face a bit with a handkerchief and leave a cheeky peck on your cheek before going about the rest of his day

Ace Trappola

Tries to catch you. Does not succeed.

In his defense, Ace is never on full alert. Especially during the school day.

You started running at him and he full on panicked. A genuine scream to stop tore through his throat, and he held his arms out

You, in fact, did not stop. Therefore you both fell on the ground with him on the bottom

Ace is not happy

"What is wrong with you?! If my back's broke then the medical bill is on your shoulders, not mine!"

When you explain to him, he still is pissed but does feel bad for yelling at you

"...well, whatever. You don't need some stupid test to know I'm trustworthy anyways. I prove it every day, right?"

....right? Please say yes or else he will overthink this hardcore later.

Deuce Spade

Catches you on instinct.

The moment you start running he assumes something is wrong, and opens his arms to give you a hug. When you jump? Well, that's just an extra step

His feet slide back against the ground and he wobbles for a millisecond. However, he's steady. He wraps both arms around your waist firmly, and leans back to get a look at your face.

"What's wrong?! Why are you in such a hurry?!"

His eyes flicker anxiously between the direction you came from and your face

He's relieved when you tell him that everything is okay, and that you just wanted to see if he would catch you

"Don't scare me like that! I was seriously worried!"

He's still holding you, and becomes bashful once the adrenaline dials down. He mutters a quick apology while gently setting you down. Avoiding eye-contact, he excuses himself and promises to hang out later. For now, be still his beating heart

Savanaclaw Dorm

Leona Kingscholar

Yes. You don't give him enough time to think through the situation, and so he acts. Albeit a bit roughly.

The moment you jump he's reaching with one arm, startled. It wraps around your waist and hoists you over his shoulder. The other hand reaches for his wand, and he's on high alert.

Says nothing. Just grunts upon impact and scans the area.

You'll have to pat his back a few times to be let down, and it is needless to say that he is not pleased with your joke

His eyebrows draw downward with his classic scowl, and he's lowkey disappointed in you. He thought you more straight-headed than to do something like this

"You- ugh. Whatever. I caught you, so I win, right? Happy?"

Deems scolding you more trouble than it's worth. Last thing he needs is for you to get mad at him. That'll just give him an even bigger headache.

Ruggie Bucchi

Does...not. He knows that you're coming. He heard the footsteps a mile away. He simply is a snot-nosed little arse

You're running at him from behind, and the moment you get near he steps to the side. He does his little shishishishi laugh when you face plant on the floor.

When you don't get up, he crouches down and pokes your head.

"Hey, you alright? That was a pretty harsh fall. I can't imagine what caused it,"

Laughs again, but feels a bit bad if you don't reciprocate. Okay. You got him. He's sooooooo untrustworthy. An utter fool, if you will.

With a tsk, he grabs you by the elbow and eases you up.

"Yup, yup. I'm cruel, I know. Let's go get a snack, alright? It's on me - and by me, I mean that it's on Leona shishishisi"

Jack Howl

This boulder doesn't even flinch. Like clockwork, he's startled but instinctively readies his stance. You quickly land safely in his arms, and are back on the ground in a jiffy. Almost as if you never tried to tackle him in the first place.

He holds you at arms length with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhm....are you good? What was that about?"

He doesn't understand how catching you proves that he is trustworthy, but if it makes you happy then he'll do it as often as you'd like. Just give him a heads up next time, ok?

Won't admit it, but he liked holding you. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, it felt right. If you ever asked for a piggy-back ride or to be carried, he wouldn't be opposed at all. The realization embarrasses him greatly.

Octovinelle Dorm

Azul Ashengrotto

Does not, and is extremely ashamed. He does not fail tests, academic or otherwise!

He’s not weak. This man has a very healthy diet and regularly exercises. He is confident that he would have succeeded with no issue, had you not startled him. Our little cephalopod here gets flustered very easily. Only by you though.

Normally he can hide it but you 100% startled him. Can you even judge? One moment all was peaceful and the next thing he knows you’re barreling towards him. All giddy and like “catch me, catch me!” …ugh. His heart couldn’t take it.

What’s worse is that Jade caught you in his stead. He’s appreciative that you were not harmed by his lack of reflex….but the humiliation. Dear gods.

He demands that you do it again. Leave him and then try again another time when he isn’t expecting it…which is impossible since he will be on high alert 24/7. Azul fails to understand that the purpose of the test is now null, and that it tests for impulse

“A-again! Go on. Get a running start and do it again! Into my awaiting arms!…do not argue. I will not fail this time so give me another chance,”

His ego requires it, so just do it. He can’t stand the idea of failing and that image of Jade carrying you is lingering in his mind

Floyd Leech

Catches you easily. Nothing startles this guy. Well, okay, some things do. Nothing that’s physical though.

He hears you yelling for him? Well that’s just a normal day in his life. You’re running his way”? Awwwwwwweeee his little Shrimpy is so excited to see him! That’s so rare!

He’s running to meet you half way. It nearly makes you halt but the test needs answers!

He hooks his hands under your arms mid-air, and spins you around at arms length before bringing you in for a hug. All the while he has a giant grin on his face

“Did you miss me that much??? I guess I haven’t been giving you enough attention…not that I’d mind it if you do this every day hehe~”

He doesn’t care about the test, so long as you do it again. You won’t be leaving his arms any time soon si get comfortable

Jade Leech

Another to catch you easily. He does it flawlessly, like catching a balloon or a feather

He hears your approach and chooses to ignore it until the last moment. Then he turns effortlessly to capture you bridal style, set you down, and return to what he was originally doing. If anyone’s in shock, it’s you.

Then he’ll finish up and turn to you as if nothing even happened. While his gentle smile and hand on his heart are unknowing - the smug crinkle of his eyes says otherwise. He is highly amused, not in your little stunt but in the reaction he managed to create

Caresses your face with one of his gloved hands and asks how your day has gone. Once answered, he leans down to plant a light kiss on your cheek before leaving

“Oh, I almost forgot. Please be more careful in the future. Had it not been you, I would have reacted much differently to someone ‘attacking’ fufu. I love your enthusiasm dearly, and am always happy to hold you. You need only ask,”

Scarabia Dorm

Kalim Al' Asim

Sunshine meets you half way. He sees you running at him with a mega grin and instantly knows what’s going on. Social cues be damned, he wants to be loved

More like it’s you catching him. He just can’t help himself. He jumps at you before you even get a chance to do the same.

His arms go around your shoulders in the biggest hug imaginable. He knows better than to throw his whole body weight on you, so he settles for merely hugging and swaying your body from side to side

It’s sickeningly sweet how giddy he is. He pulls you at arms length before peppering light kisses along your cheeks

“I missed you so much! Can I have another one? Please?”

Oh! A test? How fun! He’ll take this one many times if it means you’ll hug him more often. He passed? Yippieeeeeee

Jamil Viper

Catches you, begrudgingly. He’s known about the trend and was frankly expecting you to try it. He just didn’t know when.

Jamil is no fool. He could let you fall. It would be funny. Maybe even make his day.

But then you’d be upset with him. He really could do without that. Not if it could be prevented

So the moment he sees you rushing towards him, Jamil knows what to do. He quickly sets down whatever he’s doing and takes position

With an oof and a momentary scowl from discomfort, he’s got ya. One arm around you’re bum and the other your waist. You wrap both of your arms around his shoulders, and with a sigh he just lets you koala hang for a moment

“Are we done now? Not to be rude, but my arms are tired and I would prefer that we not make a spectacle of ourselves”

He asks if you had fun. You did? Well, he supposes that it can be done again. In private only though. No more pranks.

Pomefiore Dorm

Vil Schoenheit

Does not catch you on purpose, and then insists that you do it again.

You see, he did not want to encourage your childish antics, so he purposefully pretended that he was not strong enough to catch you

A lie, obviously. He is very strong despite his pretty boy exterior. Instead of calling him out for it, you play along. A mocking sigh of resignation flies out as you not so subtly comment on his lack of strength.

Oh, you're absolutely right, Vil! I'm sorry for over estimating you...hmm, perhaps I can try again with Neige-

"You will do no such thing. Now, I am going to walk away and once I turn the corner you are going to run at me. Is that clear?"

Epel Felmeir

Catches you! Listen. My boy here spent his entire childhood lugging around crates of apples, cutting down trees, and running through fields. There is no way that he lacks the stamina to catch you. Maybe he can't hold you for an extended period, but those cinnamon stick arms are built for catching

He jolts when you scream his name, and he loses his composure. The moment you jump he lets out a string of curses and drops everything to catch you

The impact sends Epel teetering, and he fall son his butt with you on top of him

"O-o-oi! What'd ya think you're doing?! I nearly split my tailbone!"

Is slightly saddened that he couldn't keep steady. If only he was stronger like the Savanaclaw students...

Rook Hunt

Catches you with grace. There isn't much to say here.

Our princely hunter need not predict your movements, or pay attention to your plotting. Where's the fun in that?

Non non, what a sight for sore eyes. Rook swoons the moment you call his name, and his pupils basically turn to hearts when he sees you running towards him

With a laugh, he opens his arms wide and catches you in an instant. He shifts you into a bridal carry, and dips you down to plant a loving hiss on your nose.

Bonus points if you kiss him back along where his freckles would be without makeup. Oh this man is dying

"Mon coheur....what a wonderful surprise! If you were to greet me like this every day for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man indeed,"

Ignihyde Dorm

Idia Shroud

Catches you

On accident :)

More like you just fall in his lap, but it still counts? Kind of

He was in his room, multitasking both controlling his floating tablet around school while also playing the latest MMO

Just when he started to wonder where you might be (normally you find his tablet during study break) he hears his door burst open

Startled, he whips around in his chair to see you running at him. He lets go of the computer mouse and keyboard on impulse. Right when you jump and basically straddle him in his chair

Idia.exe has stopped working. From the sudden entrance, to the physical contact, to your giddy rambling about...something? He can't hear past the buzzing in his ears and just nods along

Hyper aware that you are sitting in his lap still. Attempting to control himself...and failing.

"U-uhhh, can y-you please move? Like, off of me? I c-can get you a chair,"

You comply, and he calms down for a second. He's not complaining but why would you -

an internet trend? Ortho told you to?

....Idia doesn't know if he should thank his brother or scold him.

Ortho Shroud (PLATONIC!)

Little Ortho meets you half way! You do not get to jump because he sees your arms open for a hug and does not waste a moment

With you basically being one of his best friends (and hopefully second sibling. Ortho is rooting for his big bro to win your heart!) he loves your hugs

When you ruffle his hair after letting go, his eyes crinkle into the cutest little upturned crescents and he laughs

"You know...I bet brother would love one of your hugs! You should go surprise him!"

Diasomnia Dorm

Malleus Draconia

Child of man, what a wonderful surprise?

You are fulfilling this man's fantasy. You know the phrase 'looking through rose-colored class'?

You're running towards him and he's watching like it's an early 2000s AMV on Youtube

Or like a Tik Tok edit. You know the ones

Drops everything. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING

It is like this man loses all sense of his surroundings. Lovesick fool.

Opens his arms wide with a soft smile, and when you jump he barely flinches. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and legs around his waist. One of his arms holds the small of your back, and the other your rear. He...well, yes he is aware and is doing it on purpose. Our prince isn't uhm...well, he is a man. A gentlemen, but still a man nonetheless.

"What a welcome greeting. Are you comfortable? I would like to remain this way for longer, if you do not mind"

He holds you tight with his head comfortably buried in between your neck and shoulder. Malleus lightly kisses the fabric of your uniform blazer, before returning to his prior activities like nothing is amiss

Lilia Vanrouge

...I guess? It's complicated.

You come at this bat from behind in an attempt to surprise him

He's not that old, y'know. Lilia senses you trailing him the moment you begin. Then again, he always knows when you're within a five mile radius.

What? Is it really so bad for him to seek out the object of his affections? Anyone else would do the same. It's not like he's being a creep about it...you just have a unique presence.

He is also well versed in internet trends. Lilia can't help but humor you. He walks around unknowing and occasionally snickering. Some question what he finds so humorous, and he waves them off with a cheeky grin

He senses your intent to attack, and doesn't turn around when you call his name. You jump at him from behind and koala hug his back

If it weren't for the hands holding your calves, you'd think him ignorant.

'Lilia? Lilia~ Hello? Are you already deaf so soon-'

Faster than you can comprehend, he spins you around to face him and pecks your lips

"Why hello there, my dear. Care to finish that sentence?"

'....no'

Sebeck Zigvolt

Does not catch you. He initially thought you were aiming for Malleus, and stood in front of his superior to protect him

Oh he should have known! Betrayal! You have betrayed him!

...why are you calling his name? WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?

Oh seven it's one of your pranks again, isn't it? Whya re you always doing such-

When you yell for him to catch you, Sebeck does so without a second thought

but he fails. His offensive stance wasn't fit for taking the imbalance of weight, and he couldn't get a stable grip on you

Gravity pulls him forwards on a path where his weight would crush you

So Sebeck quickly wraps one of his hands around the back of your head, and flips so he takes the impact instead

"Have you gone mad?! I genuinely cannot fathom what is going on in your brain anymore. Who put you up to this? What if you had been injured? What if you injured Lord Malleus?....stop laughing and listen to me!"

Silver

Do not startle a man with a sword.

Once again, do NOT startle a man with a SWORD.

Silver catches you. Easily. He also thinks it is absolutely adorable that you trust him enough to do so.

It's just that you could have warned him. Y'know, considering that he is armed and trained to draw his weapon at the slightest sign of a threat :)

Lucky for you, Silver is high-key vigilant since he has a tendency to doze off to dreamland. He sensed your presence but couldn't pinpoint where...

Imagine his surprise when you jump down from above :) The hell do you think you are, his father?

On instinct he reaches out and catches you in a bridal carry. Your rear knocks against the sword hanging at his side, and with a grunt he places you down on the floor to check for injury

"While I love spending time with you, can you please use the door next time? For my sanity?"

2K notes · View notes