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chouettecrivaine · 9 months ago

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Love's the Only Medicine [Honkai: Star Rail]

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Characters: Dr. Ratio

Notes: SO. First off, those of you waiting on Lyney fic, it is postponed for now because I'm stuck :( but for now I'm working on a Dr. Ratio fic and I'm having a little trouble so these are my headcanons for how a good/healthy relationship with him would actually work because I love to write fluff all the time <3

So, how does one go about romancing the Dr. Veritas Ratio?

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Have independence. Dr. Ratio is a busy man, and while he'd of course value your relationship (why else would he be in a relationship in the first place?), he wouldn't fare well with someone who is the clingy type. A relationship that would work best for him is one where you share in each other's missions, victories, and defeats as best as you can without melding your lives into one singular identity. With the exception of certain instances where you worked with him prior to the relationship starting/getting serious (though even then, he might drop the idea of separating your work paths a little bit to ensure there is no space for rational, scientific endeavors to be tangled with personal emotions), Dr. Ratio is perfectly content to with a relationship where some aspects of your lives don't always cross. Of course he wants to spend time with you! He just appreciates his own ability to act independently and keep work and personal matters separate. (Plus I feel like he'd find independence kinda attractive anyway :P)

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Keep him grounded. Dr. Ratio gets lost in his thoughts frequently. He understands that facts and calculations can only go so far in the real world (though they could go MUCH FURTHER in his opinion, hence his cosmic mission to eradicate foolishness) but he loves finding the rational, mathematical answer to things. It'll be up to you to navigate a little bit more expertly on this plane. If he's trying to piece together a solution to a planet's hunger crisis, well, maybe let him sort through his lofty thoughts then. But if he's simply ignoring the world and thinking for the sake of it, you'll be able to get away with poking him out of the stupor and getting him to actually communicate with the world around him.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Be the people person, but don't apologize for him. Veritas has a tendency to rub people the wrong way. He's rude, abrasive, and arrogant. When others say such things without realizing you're nearby, you AGREE with them. But these are all things he knows, too. In most cases, how the reception of information makes somebody feel doesn't particularly concern him. But sometimes, especially now that he's actively placing himself in the social situation of being in a relationship, talking with people in a constructive way is necessary. He's fine with defaulting to you in these instances if it makes you feel useful. However, it is simply a matter of leaving a task to the one who knows better. If you start apologizing for his silence or a prior brash attitude, though, then he gets a little prickly. He stands by his behavior! Don't make him out to be someone you should have to apologize for or ashamed of.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Have clear communication skills. Listen. Veritas is an eloquent speaker, and he says exactly what he means to. However...good communication is more than just saying words that mean exactly what you want them to. You have to present information in a way that others can receive, and that's where he falls flat. The onus will fall to you to exemplify that sort of skill. Now, you don't have to teach him step-by-step how to talk nicely, but being able to do so yourself and give him a gentle nudge when it really matters will go a long way in ensuring you're talking to each other and not at each other.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Argue with him. Like, not actually. Argue with him academically. Veritas has stated that he feels incorrect on a matter if people agree with him. So don't agree with him! Don't spark debate just for the sake of it, but you shouldn't be afraid to voice your opinion when it goes against his. Dissent is the forebear of accuracy, after all. He won't be gentle with his arguments, but he never means to condescending when you're sharing your scholarly ideas. (Plus, this will help you get accustomed to when he is actually trying to argue you in a less casual context)

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅His love language? Quality time. Wanted all across the galaxy to solve this crisis or that, Dr. Ratio is a busy, busy man. So when you come in at the top of his list of priorities, that's how you know he's in deep. If you receive a certain love language particularly well, he can adapt! But his default is both to give and receive quality time. Even just time together that isn't attentive and specifically for each other can mean a lot to him. If you're both busy with work, he can be placated by attending to your duties but staying in the same room as each other. Don't worry about distracting him, either - as of late, he finds himself distracted when you aren't around, and at ease when you are.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Have a hunger for knowledge. It can be intimidating to hear him denounce all fools of the universe when he doesn't give many specific answers as to what a fool is. Veritas doesn't care about a lack of knowledge; what he cares about is a lack of awareness and a lack of trying. He'd be a fool himself if he pretended as though everyone had the same access to the same level of education, or that there weren't people who gravitated towards certain skills. After all, he's widely regarded as a genius, but you don't exactly see him releasing academic journals on any musical studies, do you? (Now, could he write one? Probably. But that's not the point.) As tough of a teacher as he is, what he's after is undying tenacity; that you never falter in the face of obstacles, and that you never place your scholarship on a shelf so high it winds up collecting dust, unused. If you don't know something, that's fine - go figure it out! Don't just say 'I don't know' and leave the matter at that. Learning through experience is an incredibly strong way of gathering knowledge. Just...don't expect him to be any nicer about your lack of prior knowledge just because you are close to him or you are trying to remedy that. At the end of the day, you did fall in love with a guy who's just kind of an ass sometimes :/

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Be honest. This is one that could go for anybody in any relationship, but it is a top priority for Dr. Ratio. He's based his entire life on searching and spreading absolute truth in every corner of the cosmos. Normally, this takes the form of objective, empirically provable fact. But he finds it frustrating if you won't be honest about your feelings or what you want, how is he to know what to do? You'll have him acting like a fool with your refusal to face your own truth! (This is, of course, a roundabout way of saying that he doesn't have it in him to be playing games. Be straightforward with him, please. It'll be much easier for the both of you that way.)

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Don't be afraid to get a little poetic on him. Veritas is a scientific man. He understands artistic endeavors, of course, but that isn't how his brain is wired. He operates in verifiable conclusions and building hypotheses, not the more abstract patterns of intuition or leading by the heart. He can analyze and understand such things, but if you want him to be able to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the world, you will probably have to lead by example. You won't change his way of thinking, but maybe if you see a rare bird one day, he'll appreciate the opportunity to see something so rare and beautiful instead of analyzing how far it has deviated from its normal breeding grounds.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Flirting is a game, but love isn't. Don't be so dull with him! Dr. Ratio would love an opportunity to subtly ash his wits about yours in a little flirtatious back-and-forth. Both in the early stages and a more established relationship, Dr. Ratio loves a good challenge and could spend all night just trying to out-flirt the other. Regardless of whether or not you're one to get flustered, he loves your reactions anyway. Sheepishness, frustration, no emotion whatsoever - whatever you feel,, he finds how you try to school your expressions into complete apathy amusing. He is hard to fluster himself, but if he continues the same line of teasing in the morning the next day, you can assume he's been thinking about you all night. However! Dr. Ratio often expects people, especially those precious few who he respects, to operate on his level. If he's truly buckling down for the long game, he'll make sure to make his feelings clear. Flirtation is always on the table, but "playing hard to get" or trying to "keep him guessing" as you near a truly established relationship is a turn off. Flirt for fun, not to manipulate his interest in you. Believe him, he would've left by now if he wanted to.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Look beyond his scientific approach to matters of the heart. In loving anybody, you'll have to learn how to read between certain lines. Even if you are a pure-blooded emotionally charged person, Veritas can only meet you halfway on the road to compromise. Take the time to study how he speaks and what he means- concise as he is, speaking so straightforwardly all the time often has an opposite affect on his words when he's trying to be romantic. Learn the ways he looks after you and tries to make your life easier without asking; notice how he spends a large portion of his available time with you, even if it means dragging you along to discussing things with people who he feels are completely beneath his IQ; realize that his tone may always be steadfast and dominating, but he never speaks out to shut you down or demean you the way he does to others. If you can translate all the little ways he uses to show you how much he values you, then you may just find yourself in a relationship far more enriching than you'd expect.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #☆ star rail #☆ dr ratio #🐚 capricorn ��+..｡*ﾟ+{hcs}#🌠 pisces ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{all writing}#a note that didn't make the cut: HUMBLE HIM #i was going through some of his lines in the stars of ingenuity quest and #boy what is your PROBLEM #antagonizing the trailblazer just because you're a suspicious little freak #decided their vibes were bad based on nothing but ANECDOTAL EVIDENCE #i'm so serious. what is your deal. i'll kiss it out of you boy don't think i wont

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greghatecrimes · 10 months ago

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Remy's composure is 50% "a bit" but lays it on thick to fuck with anyone who thinks they're better than her. Amber gets the most irritated by it out of anyone, and it's part of why House respects Remy. Remy refuses to let other people claim an inherit superiority to her and will not back down, yet does so in such an emotionally strained way ( and absolutely struggles and has nails that flucuate between fucked up and practically manicured ) that it can slip by in situations other people would have never imagined making such a remark without backlash. Remy's restraint means they often have the emotional final word despite the other person ending with their decisive remark. (also the break up with foreman anywho gtg but ur tags got me thinking)

I so loved reading your thoughts on this. I had some wine so I'm tipsy right now and not the most eloquent with my words, but I wholeheartedly agree! I think her restraint especially is something she'd have worked hard to achieve and would be proud of. It feels like a finely tuned skill-- being able to have the last word without even speaking, without blowing up or melting down or otherwise losing her composure. she probably was not always like that as a child/teenager. I think she probably was a lot more outwardly emotional volatile as a kid (as kids are), but very quickly forced herself to become the opposite because she'd associate outbursts-- physical, emotional, verbal-- with her mom's Huntington's, how she got screamed at, how her mom declined, the strain it had on her family, etc.

And her nails: oh absolutely. I think they're probably either 100% beautifully maintained or 100% a wreck, depending on how stressed she is at any given point. She strikes me as someone who maybe used to bite her nails as an anxious habit as a kid. I think as an adult she'd pick at her nails or cuticles under the table instead (more subtle, easier to hide the stress/strain).

This rocked. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts! It made me smile to see my tags sparked some ideas :3

#ask #open-source-anarch3y #remy thirteen hadley #headcanons #tipsy houseposting

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dragoneyes618 · 1 year ago

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fter reading the recent well-reported feature on the media narrative about Israel, I think it’s important to ponder the underlying reason why so many of us are fully engaged in a desperate attempt to control the narrative. Why we’re trying to see, at the very least, some acknowledgment of certain basic realities on the ground by the media outlets of the world. After all, it’s not their brothers and sisters who suffered unspeakable horrors that refuse to fade from our memories.

I suspect we are craving some affirmation that their egregiously amoral “both-sides-ism,�� moral equivalence, and moral relativism stem from foolish ignorance rather than from their deeply held anti-Semitic mindset or their liberal cognitive dissonance. We’re seeking emotional safety from the brutal reality. We want to know that we’re not alone; someone out there can be persuaded into helping us. We want to think that something about this is in our control.

The problem is — it’s not. And that’s the point.

We think that if we just tweak the formulation of our responses or show evidence for the truth one more time, maybe, just maybe, they’ll have a flash of moral clarity and understand that it’s all in the intentions, and that there can’t ever be equivocation between targeting civilians and targeting terrorists who hide behind civilians. Perhaps if we prove once again that the “Palestinian Health Ministry” invents casualty figures, then they’ll finally quit being Hamas’s useful idiots. Maybe if we show them that the Palestinians have a long history of hollering lies with respect to just about everything, they’ll issue a full-throated apology and reconsider their reporting around the invented Gaza hospital blast.

We think, maybe when they’re shown the ingenuity of the Pallywood productions team (a reference to the well-documented phenomenon of staged acts of suffering performed for cameras and reporters), they’ll stop giving these “shows” a platform to spark sympathy. Maybe instead of rushing their correspondents to cover the latest Pallywood episode featuring laughing “corpses” and blood-colored makeup, they’ll dispatch them to film the festivities in the streets after innocent Israelis are killed.

Maybe, if we just explain our positions more eloquently, they’ll stop engaging in the “narrative battle” (to quote CBS News). Maybe if we do a better job creating a victimhood complex around ourselves, they’ll focus on the actual victims in this story. Maybe if we show them ever-more gruesome footage, reality will sink in. Maybe they’ll report on how we’re still learning new information daily about the extent of the barbarism inflicted on our people while the authorities identify charred remains and return them to their families.

Maybe if we point out that Hamas has fired 8,500-plus rockets indiscriminately at Israeli civilians, they’ll talk to survivors of the ongoing daily attacks. Maybe if we persuasively illustrate how these barbarians are enemies of the West, they’ll have the self-awareness to reflect on how preposterous calls for a cease-fire would’ve been perceived following 9/11, and how unjust it would be to allow such violence to continue against the citizens of any country. Maybe instead of suggesting “an end to the violence,” they’ll report on how an army whose objective is to try and protect its people is progressing in this war against terror.

Maybe, we think, if enough of us send them footage of the violence and the jubilation over the spilling of Jewish blood at “pro-Palestine” rallies, along with information about the spike in anti-Semitic incidents around the world, they’ll actually report on them. Maybe if we send them enough footage of massive crowds from Sydney to New York chanting “gas the Jews” and “from the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” and “mobilize the intifada” and “there is only one solution,” they’ll report in horror about the West’s cultural complacency regarding calls for genocide against Jews. Maybe they’ll talk about what “free Palestine,” chanted by tens of millions around the globe, actually means. (After all, how many reports were we subjected to about a buffoon somewhere in a sea of people at a Trump rally supposedly flashing a white supremacy sign?)

Maybe they’ll have a serious discussion about where all this Jew hatred on campus is stemming from and the straight-up invented history and libels against Israel propagated in academia and among the student bodies. (Suddenly, there is no need to clamp down on fake news and to censor social media accounts spreading it.) Maybe if we send them the readouts, they’ll report on the hate-filled speeches. Maybe they’ll call out the government-funded university professors who praised the attacks and called them “exhilarating,” “awesome,” “incredible.”

Maybe, just maybe, when Hamas commits the worst atrocities sub-humanly imaginable, the world won’t minimize it, debate whether it was perhaps somewhat justified, debate the extent of the brutality and make us show them the photos of the mutilated limbs of our men, women, and children, of grandparents and grandchildren. Maybe, if we spell out the extent of the carnage just one more time, they won’t deny the extent of it and make us show their journalists gruesome video footage of the savagery. Maybe after all this, they’ll finally stand firmly along with those who stand for life and everything good.

Maybe if we show them evidence from poll after poll, video after video, and post after post on social media about the violent intentions of the vast majority of the Gazan people, they’ll stop claiming that “Hamas doesn’t represent the people of Gaza.” Maybe they’ll never again equate a people and an army, who want nothing more than to live in peace with their neighbors, with a people who want us to die.

Maybe if we just remind them one more time of the countless current and former Western military generals who have affirmed again and again over the years that no other army in history of warfare goes to the same lengths as the IDF to avoid “civilian” casualties, they’ll stop trying to hold us to an impossible standard that no other army in the history of warfare was ever held to or even considered as a remote possibility.

We need to finally learn from this and stop engaging with those who don’t want to know. To quit blaming ourselves for anti-Semitism. That doesn’t mean that we should abandon all kinds of hasbarah. We are responsible for hishtadlus. Polls suggest that, despite the poison on their screens, the majority of Americans’ sympathies are with Israel, and they understand that the Israelis are doing what they must. These people want to understand how to come to terms with headlines such as “Israeli Air Force Bombs Gaza Baptist Hospital, 500 Killed.”

But it does mean acknowledging the limits of hasbarah, easing up on the desperation and our quest to convince the moral-equivalencers. Why? Because we’re not in control, and it’s not our problem.

It’s theirs.

It isn’t our opinion that the overwhelming majority of Gazans support Hamas’s Jihadi policies, it’s in the polling numbers. It’s certainly not our problem if they insist on burying their heads in the sand and refuse to hear what the Gazans themselves keep yelling at us again and again about their grisly desires.......

#israel hamas war

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incaensio · 1 year ago

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Katniss: [Coin] Thank you for your bravery in taking part in the mission to District Twelve. Few know devastation as intensely than those impacted by the bombings within that District. So I wanted to check in. How are you after witnessing the true aftermath?

they've lain off of her, these past days. katniss is under no impression this will be permanent, or even long lasting — she expects the tattoo in her arm to tell her a slot for the command room or propo filming, but it doesn't. there's almost a respectfulness to it she hadn't expected, to allow her some minimal mourning for cinna, but katniss is too cynical to entirely believe that; it's more likely she is so pumped up with sedatives they don't think she will do any good in front of the camera, or that she will attack someone, or just scream, the way she had done while they stood, helpless, watching her stylist and dearest friend getting shot live for all of panem to see. she sees it all the time, worsening her nightmares, in which executions are its constant scenarios now, only switching out the victim: cinna, annie, cecelia, amara, even thea and, of course, peeta. she's seen him dying so many times, in so many cruel ways, cried so often whenever she wakes up, she surely must have dried herself by now.

it's that happy thought that makes her willing not to skip on the meeting when its timestamp finally appears on her arm; she's surprised that this one is a quiet one, the room barely vacant if only for the usual guards, boggs, and the president. frankly, she'd rather have the opposite. that way, she could at least pretend not to be the center of attention — and, at times, it's actually true; there's only so much the face of the rebellion can do, and they certainly doesn't think talking and planning is one of those things — but that's robbed of her. coin's voice is uncharacteristically saccharine, but katniss' expression remains impassible, tension still in her spine, wariness trying to remain strong even under the diminishing sedation. she's been around another president with sweet words, and she's sworn not to make that mistake twice. don't trust them, katniss. she doesn't.

that's not to say her words doesn't spark with the truth — katniss had tried to stand strong, spending hours going around the town, then the seam, then the woods, walking, talking, sharing, even singing, but that strength feels all gone now. she can still smell twelve, feel the way it felt under her heel, taste the bile that rose up her throat. she tightens her jaw. "not great." ever eloquent, she thinks. maybe she should work harder, considering she has been told several times that the cost to fly her to other districts is enormous, but it's not like they're doing this for free or for the goodness of their heart. surely some of what they've filmed must have aired, even before cinna's death — they're always quick with those things, in here (she'd complain if she wasn't glad that the fastest they did this, maybe the least all of this would drag out).

"twelve's not what ailin' me, though." she looks down from the wig to the woman's eyes for the first time since she's entered the room. "how much longer you're goin' to wait to get 'em out, ma'am?" the reference is as pointed as her words. "are you waitin' for another execution?"

#drug use tw #gore tw #death tw #execution tw #— 𝐾. 𝐸. : written.#eventideevent04

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oraclekleo · 1 year ago

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🐚 Hey~ how are you doing today hun?

There’s not much space for alternative interpretation in this case. Tom would probably notice your natural feminine charm and your beauty (beauty is in the eye of the beholder so even if you don’t love yourself, Tom would feel utterly enchanted). He’s likely to feel stunned and hooked by the way you walk and talk. Your natural kindness and probably a soft way of speaking to people even when they act annoyingly is something that would catch his attention and spark his interest in you. Maybe he sees you solving a dispute in a gentle and diplomatic way and it absolutely astonishes him. Maybe he sees you dealing with a difficult pet in a soft and loving way and taming them like that much better than those who shout and yell. Even such a tiny thing as you enjoying a fresh apple might actually make Tom stumble.

I loved the reading sm<333 the fact he would find me beautiful makes my heart so-🤰🦋. Yes, I do have habit of being nice n kind to people whom sometimes could be rude or annoying. Ohmygod! The fact Tom actually have two pets and I have such soft spot for them. The accuracy 💯👌🥰.

Tom might feel a bit naughty when following you in order to catch the right moment to approach you. He’s likely to observe you for a while, stealing and savouring glimpses of you from afar. He’s not nearly as confident as he should be when it comes to you. You might be going about your regular day and he will just shyly peek at you from behind corners, trees, shelves with books. The more he watches you, the more pulled towards you he feels because he’s getting to the conclusion, you are one interesting and astonishing person.

Gurl STOP! This is making me so happy 🤣 True, I do feel that Tom would be the shy type when he have feelings for someone at first, and u can see that when he had crush on Emma Watson but he never told her lol. Btw, I'm over the moon rn ngl lmao~

At a certain point the moment comes when Tom has to take all his courage and approach you. He’s likely to do so confidently now because he has already learned how to talk to you through watching you. He might just simply come to you, saying Hello and introducing himself to you and start a conversation. He’s not likely to use some tricks. This doesn't align with his morals. He’s a direct and plain speaking man, he likes to be honest with people and it’s likely for him to feel the same vibe from you. He knows you won’t mind him being open and straightforward with you. Tom is likely to be eloquent when he’s interested in a person so fasten your seatbelts, the chat over afternoon coffee might expand into an early morning philosophy discussions while watching sunrise.

OHMYG! So trueee. Tom mentioned once in his book that his personality don’t differ at all when he outdoors and indoors, he likes to be himself. And yes! I'm the type of person who would always be the one who speak their feelings and don't like to suger-coat your wrongs. Yes! Ofc, I do love discussions and sharing opinions w others. [Gemini mercury here lol]

Tom is likely to feel mesmerised by your resourcefulness and the ability to adapt to various situations. You have more than one talent and you probably cultivate many skills and hobbies because you have many interests. You like to experiment, to explore and to learn about stuff. You like to try new activities, you don’t really have prejudices against genres of art or against people. You approach the world with your mind open and willing to find beauty in everything. Tom absolutely loves that about you and while he himself might sometimes feel a little more conservative, you are his great inspiration.

Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!Trueee!

I do have so many hobbies and talents, sometimes I have too many that I'm not able to know which one is my real talent lol [I get bored SO easily]. And I do love to explore the world and see the potential in it. Yeah! Tom once talked abt how he was raised in such conservative society. (If I'm not mistaken.)

Sometimes you need to destroy something in order to make space for something new. Maybe up till now you actually only felt platonic about Tom. Or maybe your romance wasn’t anything more than a summer fling. Tom certainly feels much more serious about your relationship, though, so when once again you try to keep things light and without commitments, he needs to prove you wrong by kissing you passionately. And whatever you thought about the relationship crashes and burns in the heat of his desire and yours. Welcome to the utterly new world which is upside down and spinning but feels really good.

Tom is both a romantic and determined type of man (HE IS). He’s likely planning the night he’s gonna confess his feelings long ahead. He prepares for it, he makes it an unforgettable moment and a true celebration of your love. Maybe he takes you to a renaissance fair where he will declare his love dressed up as a knight while you are neatly placed on a balcony. Maybe he will take you for a romantic picnic and gaze deeply into your eyes before whispering ‘I love you’. Whatever the occasion, you better have something clever to answer. Or you can skip talking and kiss him. Tom might prefer the second option.

I'M JUST IN LOVE! ❤️

Thank you very much for the fun reading! The accuracy is just amazing 🥰.

And pls accept this meme from me lmao

Hello!

😂

Oh the final meme! 🤣🤣🤣

I'm dying!

Anyway!

Thank you so much for the feedback.

I'm so happy it resonated with your personality and with what is known about Tom Felton. I have never been into Harry Potter so I don't really know much about either of the protagonist. It's really helpful when your feedback includes how he is. 💗

This reading was actually pretty easy flowing for me. It's probably your personality and maybe even his being well atuned with me. I always had inner feeling that I'm acutally a British but was born in different country. 😂

Anyway! So happy you liked the reading. It was fun to write and I'm glad it's also fun to read for you. 👏

Thank you again for the feedback and the MEME, I love it. 💖💖💖

Kleo 🦄

#oracle kleo #tarot feedback

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karanseraph · 6 months ago

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My WIP is very continuity soup. It's not easy to piece together the differing plot events and characters in a way that is internally logical

I also will add if someone is writing for fun they can do whatever they want.

But if I am writing partly for fun but as a means of exploring themes characters and topics but also writing to practice my craft then I do want to at least put the effort in to try to make the world and characters make sense, while I'm making reference to various existing continuities.

My character who will become Megatron was forged in a time when Quintessons had already seduced (with promises of off-world goods and tech) and then conquered Cybertron (and begun forcing Cybertronians to be slaves and/or exported exotic tech for clients on other planets.) He takes part in that resistance and Cybertron is freed, sorta. There's lingering division, trauma and corruption as they try to figure out how to self-govern a now, at least in name, united planet.

He had been classified as a miner. Quintessons don't acknowledge how certain forged frame types are suited to regional environments (like how trended vehicles distribute their weight over ancient roads of slang and clinker cobbles) they just see the uses they would have.

But then when free this character chose to study engineering and literature. But he also got involved in gladiatorial matches (these were somewhat scripted but still involved some real injury) because there was a need for working bots in their peace time to have entertainment after a day of willing labor to keep their city-state going.

He's not evil. He's a former miner turned university student with socialist politics who really doesn't want a non-representative government to ever tell bots what to do again. He knows what it means to work, to study, but he's also learning that he can influence others with dramatics and eloquence.

For him to seem evil there needs to be opposition that has a take that supresses self-determinism and representation, and yet describes itself as good and peacekeeping.

Right now that's the senators who appease those who support them rather than represent bots of any particular region or city-state.

But if bots are against the senate, I imagine there is a pearl clutching reaction against disrupting order.

But our guy is still only operating in one city-state in Tarn.

Meanwhile the Seekers who were constructed as military air frames by Quintessons, freed, but then dispersed about the planet (no one wanted all those military constructs near them) are networking with each other again across multiple city-states and have ties with the Space Bridge Corps and are looking to build a space station. They do not want to be controlled or told what to do and are pretty bitter about the dispersal. Some of are trying to get into politics, quite a few are in technical fields and there's a couple performers and crafters as well.

Their sparks came from a particular irradiated field so outlying mutant abilities are disproportionately high. That is one more reason other bots can fear or seek to control them.

I haven't quite gotten to what's going on in Iacon, yet, but it's likely a whole game of something with the senate and guilds and bots still accusing each other of having been Quintesson collaborators for surviving enslavement. Bots there are not actually as traditional or religious as bots in Tarn and yet not actually so socially liberal as bots in Vos. There's probably some amount of lip service and a few bots who mean what they say but maybe don't have all the facts.

I don’t particularly care about continuity soup, but it’s there so often. They don’t do anything new with Megatron’s background.

For some reason they give snobby, aristocratic Animated Megatron the “I was a poor miner/gladiator so long ago” past and make him a misunderstood extremist that would totally drop his millennia old cause that he fights actively for just because it conflicts with his feelings or some shxt.

They take the potential of Optimus and Megatron not knowing each other and being complete ENEMIES and turn them into Prime Optimus and Megatron. Optimus usually getting Orion Pax shoved onto him.

Then eventually they make Optimus give up the ideals he strove for just to make him a Decepticon.

The way this is all handled is different and sometimes interesting, but I really want to know what a purely regular Optimus and Megatron are like.

I don’t want another Orion Pax or under crust Megatron. I think there’s a lot in Megatron being an elitist being driven off his planet because his factions failed to oust the rebel lower class.

Idk what do you think?

#fanfic #transformers #continuity soup #the life and times of skywarp #maccadam

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brooklynislandgirl · 2 years ago

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Does the amount of power you can wield ever scare you?

Something I said? || Accepting The night air is filled with sound; distant cars passing on dirt roads, cicadas and crickets vying on who can be the louder symphony, the breeze through the trees. Though summer’s grasp is tenacious, the nights are starting to lengthen and the trees are showing the first blushes of autumn. Rather than sitting out on the porch steps as they are wont to do on their few evenings together, they are enjoying the space Raylan poured blood and sweat into, the little patio area out back finally finished. She’s watched him stack the kindling and the logs in the fire pit while she set out his beer and a glass of wine for herself. Another departure from routine, by now they’ve usually broken out the bourbon. She hides her grin in her hair when he doesn’t bother to use matches or a lighter, but instead holds his hands out and shuts his eyes. The spark isn’t so huge as to draw untoward attention. She’s absolutely amazed at his control even if he’s ~as he insists~ rusty. Even now the elements are not her strongest suit, and she’s more inclined toward water. All of this aside, the thing she can’t keep away from him is the glitter in her eyes as he sits down next to her and stretches his long legs out in front of him. It has nothing to do with the flicker of the flames’ light and everything to do with that sweetness he’s stoked inside of her. Maybe that’s why his question takes her aback a little. Makes her blink and a soft sort of half-smile curves one side of her lips. She offers him the most eloquent “Uh…” It’s nothing she’s ever considered before, honestly. She’s always known she was different though how she wasn’t aware until her teen years. She first noticed now and again when looking at someone she could tell little things about a person; how old they were exactly, what state of health they were in, what gender they were assigned at birth, their blood type…a brief dossier of scars and injuries they might have suffered in the past. Soon it became more and more common as she felt herself be comfortable with the insights. Bit by bit she’d learned that she had a gift. One that went hand in hand with the knowledge that she was a born healer, and that her mana was such that she could manipulate life in any way she might conceive of. Interacting with spirits of nature and other things was not half so hard to come to terms with; her culture espoused that everything in creation had a spirit and was interconnected, one universal family. She often spoke to them before she could hear them replying. “Not a’ first. It wasn’ until I learn dat people would scorn ones like us, fear us or disbelieve in a person’s mana. It wasn’t until I came to da mainland I realised dey were like dat. An’ den my braddah warnin’ me no one would understand, dat I should nevah let my power be seen…An’ dat’s probably why I no tell you for so long. Why I understood when you were afraid dat night you felt it risin’ in you until you couldn’t help but bleed off dat energy. “I know…for all da good I can do, so too I can destroy but dat’s not somet’ing I evah consider. It’s not how I believe I should be.” She pauses, brows knitting. “Are…are you afraid of me, Raylan?”

#Mahalo!K <333 #Burning Embers|Raylan Givens #Fire Water|Raylan and Beth #Our Spirits Shall Awaken|An Empowered Justified AU #Deep Dark Hills|Kentucky

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silversatoru · 4 years ago

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one more day

gojo satoru x f!reader

synopsis: Gojo's been sizing you up from across the club for awhile now, so when you walk out onto the empty balcony and give him the perfect opportunity to shoot his shot, he's more than happy to do so. After charming you with his oh so eloquent words, he may or may not fuck the shit out of you in the back of his car.

tags/warnings: smut, with a little bit of plot, if you squint you might be able to see the plot, very nsfw (18+), bar/club au

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i based the plot/idea of this fic on the song HER by chase atlantic. if you know it, i love you, lets be friends. if you don't, i highly recommend it, its a bop and a half

Gojo gracefully lifted his whiskey sour up to his lips, taking a small sip and closing his eyes. The music was getting loud and he hadn’t met a single interesting person here tonight. He exhaled deeply — this would be his last drink and then he’d probably call it early tonight and head home.

He sat the nearly empty glass back down on the bar counter top and slid some cash to the bartender before turning around and scanning the club one last time. His lazy eyes shot open when he saw you standing with your friends across the room, his interest suddenly piqued. He hadn’t noticed you before, but now that he did, he couldn’t leave without talking to you.

You seemed lost in your own thoughts, aimlessly dancing with your friends with a fake smile plastered across your face. Your façade was terribly see-through, though none of your friends seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care.

Eventually, you separated from your group, heading up the stairs and towards the balcony of the club. Gojo watched as you walked, a slight wobble to your gait and an expensive looking handbag dangling from your wrist.

He gave you a two-minute head start, and then made his way up the stairs and out onto the balcony as well. You two were the only one’s insane enough to go out there, the winter air incredibly frigid at this time of night. He strode over and took a seat opposite you, a relaxed expression on his face.

You lifted your cigarette from your lips, blowing out a puff of smoke and giving him a small smile, “Hey, pretty-boy, I had a feeling you’d be joining me out here”.

“I had a feeling you only came out here so I’d follow you,” His words were care-free but perfectly composed.

“Maybe,” You laugh, taking another drag from your cigarette and propping your feet up on the table.

Gojo sat back, fully taking you in now. You were wearing a silky red dress, the extravagant fabric clinging perfectly to every curve of your body. Your hands flashed with several gold rings and long, shiny black nails -- cigarettes didn’t belong in fingers that beautiful.

“Your little show you’re putting on for everyone is pitiful you know. Some improv classes might help” Gojo prodded at you.

“That’s a new one. Is this how you flirt with all girls?” You couldn’t help but laugh — a light elegant laugh that was music to the silver-haired man’s ears.

“Of course not, but I’ve also never met someone who was such a bad actor before,” He crossed one of his long legs over the other, his own lips cracking a small smile.

“I’ve never met someone who was so weirdly good at reading people. How long were you watching me?” You jab back at him, putting out your cigarette and tossing it into a nearby trash bin.

“Not too long,” He shrugged, “So, what’s your deal? Mommy issues? You seem like someone who has mommy issues”.

You laughed again, this strange man continuing to catch you incredibly off guard, “So close. My mom wasn’t great but I think it’s more of a daddy issues thing”.

“Ouch,” He clicked his tongue, “Mommy and daddy issues, you’re the total package huh? I bet there’s a couple toxic ex-boyfriend’s in there too, right?”

“You could say that,” You give him a playful glance.

“How about you let me take it all away tonight? All the pain,” He leaned forward now, his icy blue eyes practically peering into your soul.

His offer sounded absolutely perfect — you could use a nice distraction from the shit-show that was your life.

“We can do whatever you want, pretty-boy, just don’t fall in love with me, okay? I don’t do second rounds,” You winked at him, standing up from your seat and offering him a hand.

“Deal,” Gojo laced his fingers through yours and stood up, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“How big is your car?” You ask while the two of you stride through the club, hand in hand.

“Big enough if we put the back seats down,” He looked down at you with hazy eyes.

“Perfect”.

It didn’t take long for Gojo to put down the back seats of his relatively large, black SUV — and before you knew it he was swiftly pulling you inside and locking the doors.

It was too dark to see much of anything, so you flinched when he wrapped a firm arm around your waist and flipped you underneath him. You expected a rough kiss to your lips, but were taken by surprise when you felt a subtle touch on your neck instead. He left gentle, wet kisses up both sides of your neck, soft sighs of bliss slipping out from between your lips.

The gentle kisses slowly got more intense, his teeth leaving small nibbles and his tongue working furiously against your skin. You caught yourself wondering how that tongue would feel on other parts of your body.

You traced your fingers up his arms and cupped them around his cheeks, pulling his face to meet yours. You were desperate to actually kiss him, parting your lips and placing a kiss to his incredibly soft lips. He was quick to deepen it, his long fingers intertwining themselves in your hair. Sparks of electricity were going off in your head, your thoughts blurring together as you lost yourself in Gojo Satoru’s captivating kiss.

He slowly pulled away after a couple minutes, his breaths heavy.

“Can I take your clothes off, angel?”

You whisper a small confirmation, your skin tingling under his soft touches. You quickly twisted onto your stomach and he swiftly pulled the zipper down the back of your dress. He carefully removed the silky material from your body, leaving you in only your undergarments.

He ran his cool fingertips up your sides, inspecting every inch of your body with his curious hands. A heavy breath shuddered from his throat as he pressed his lips onto your torso, his breath hot against your cool skin. He left kisses all over your body, sucking hard on the sensitive spots and leaving you breathlessly wanting more.

His kisses got lower and lower until he was sucking on a sensitive patch of skin on the inside of your thigh. He lifted his head and you could practically feel his heavy breaths hitting the heat between your legs.

“I can take these off too?” He asked, slipping his slender fingers under the band of your underwear.

“Please,” you exhale, curling your fingers into his soft, fluffy hair.

After gaining confirmation, he wastes no time pulling the panties down your legs and throwing them to the side. His warm tongue was quick to find your clit, swirling in small, gentle circles. He sucked the small nub into his mouth, gently nibbling on it and sending intense shivers coursing through your body. Soft, strangled moans escaped your lips as he continued to work, his hot tongue lapping up and down your slick entrance.

Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, yanking hard when he pressed his tongue deep into your entrance. This was complete bliss — you had a terrible habit of one-night stands but no one had ever made you feel this good — and you hadn’t even gotten to the main course yet.

He lifted his head and pressed a small kiss to your lower abdomen before sitting up. His slender hands went straight to the buckles of his trousers, his fingers working quickly to get them undone. You sat up and moved towards him, ready to reciprocate the favor he just did for you — but he quickly pushed you away.

“Lay down, angel. I told you, tonight’s about making you feel good,” His words were smooth and serious, and they made your heart beat a little faster.

You were more than happy to oblige, leaning back and enjoying the show while he finished removing his boxers. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark now, and your stomach filled with butterflies when his full length was finally exposed. You sucked in a sharp breath, worried that his lengthy shaft would cause more pain than pleasure.

He pulled out a condom and expertly slid it down to the base of his cock, and when he looked up again, he seemed to notice your hesitancy.

“Relax, baby. I’ll start slow,” He whispered, leaning forward and pressing more gentle kisses to the sides of your face while he teased your entrance.

Shudders ripped through your body as he rubbed the tip of his length up and down your swollen pussy, a small snicker audible from his lips as he nibbled on your earlobe. You roughly bucked up your hips, desperate for more than what he was teasing you with.

“Relax,” he repeated, but this time it sounded more like an order.

Again, you obliged, but not without a small whimper sneaking its way out of your mouth.

He did exactly what he said he would, positioning the tip of his cock and slowly pushing it inside of you. He carefully inserted his entire length, your body tensing up underneath him. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to your cheek bone, whispering feverishly in your ear.

“You okay?”

You give him an eager nod, the initial pain of taking his massive length slowly starting to subside.

“Good,” he mumbled, beginning short, tender strokes that made your entire body feel like it was on fire.

Heavy, raspy groans forced their way out of both of your throats — your hands grasping fiercely at tufts of his hair. He gradually increased his pace as your walls adjusted to his size, and somehow it managed to feel better and better each time.

Gojo let out a deep groan, his head dipping low as endorphins exploded within him, causing a blissful feeling to wash over his body. Your light moans and scattered whimpers were filling his ears, and he decided they were his new favorite sound. He’d do whatever it took to keep those beautiful noises coming out of your pretty mouth.

We can do whatever you want, pretty-boy, just don’t fall in love with me, okay? Your words echoed in his head. Normally, that kind of thing wouldn’t be a problem for Gojo, but as he stared down at the dimly illuminated silhouette of your body — he realized he was breaking the deal. You were breathtaking, every curve of your body felt perfect against his hands, and he knew he’d need to see you again — one night wasn’t enough.

His hips began thrusting faster, forcing the tip of his cock impossibly deeper inside of you, a strangled cry forcing its way out of your lips. He groaned and threw his head back at the sound of your whimpers, his own need building stronger in his stomach. Your head felt like it was spinning, each thrust sending electrical pulses of pleasure through your core.

Gojo slowed his hips for just a moment, leaning down and whispering in your ear.

“I want you to come, tell me how you like it,” his words sent a series of shivers all the way down to your fingertips.

“Fuck, from behind, please,” You whined back, your voice shaky and filled with need.

“Okay, get up,” he instructed, pulling back and removing his shaft from inside you.

You sucked in a sharp breath of air at his sudden absence, quickly climbing into position and desperate to feel him inside of you again.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, firmly grasping his hand around either side of your hips.

He wasted no time driving forward and sheathing himself back into your tight cunt, raspy groans ripping through his throat. It didn’t take long for that warm pressure to build up in your core, your hips shifting back against his to help him get even deeper. Your moans and whimpers got louder, more needy, filled with desperation — you needed to come so badly, and you were painfully stuck right on the cusp.

“Come for me, angel. Let me make you feel good,” he murmured — his gently, lusty voice exactly what you needed to push you over the edge.

Your body began to shake, a warm feeling erupting in your stomach as your walls clenched hard against his cock. Pleasure-filled cries filled the car, your body heaving and convulsing as the intense contractions coursed through you.

Gojo rolled his hips back, caught off guard by just how good it felt to have you come all over him. He felt his own climax suddenly wash over him, raspy strings of curse words rattling out of his mouth as he slammed hard into your hips. You whined loudly in response, the intensity of his peak greatly enhancing your own.

A few moments later you were both collapsed next to each other, the only sound being your uneven breaths.

“I think I broke our deal,” Gojo spoke between heavy breaths, “I want to see you again”.

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your own breath, “I tried to warn you, I don’t do second dates”.

“Mhm, but this is different, right? I know no one has ever made you feel that good before,” he rolled over to face you.

“Maybe,” You shoot him a side-ways glance.

“So, let me make you feel good again,” He was practically pleading with you, “I can make your pain better, just give me one more day. And then one more day after that too. Just keep giving me one day, until there’s no more days left to give”.

You let out a heavy sigh, your heart aching at the idea of getting to know this mysterious man a little bit better.

“I’ll be honest, your offer is incredibly tempting,” You turn so you’re facing him too.

“So accept it,” he smiled, his eyes darker and heavier than they’d been all night.

“If we’re lucky enough for our paths to intertwine a second time, I’ll consider it,” You smile back, sitting up and slipping your dress over your head.

“Zip this for me?” You turn around so your back is facing Gojo.

One of his soft hands rested firmly on your hip to hold the fabric in place, and the second carefully zipped up your dress. A chill ran through your shoulders at just how gentle he’d consistently been with your body all night.

“Thank you,” You mumbled as you reached for your underwear, pulling them back up around your hips.

Gojo hummed in response, gathering his own clothes and slipping them back on.

“What’s your name, pretty-boy?” You coo at him as you slip your heels back onto your feet.

“Gojo Satoru. Do I have the pleasure of getting to know yours?” He peered over at you, lazily pulling his shirt back over his head.

“No, that’s a secret for now. But if we do meet again, I’ll tell you,” A small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, “And by the way, I do hope we meet again, Gojo Satoru”.

#jjk gojo #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x female reader #jujutsukaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #smut

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mel-the-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Toss A Coin to Your Witcher (Part Three)

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 4,365

(Part 1, Part 2)

Happy Holidays, Cavillry! I really truly hope that you all had some socially distanced fun! Here’s a little gift from me to everyone. I really hope everyone enjoys this last part to this miniseries as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Warning: I have never written anything even remotely close to smut and this story gets a teeny bit smutty so please be gentle with me.

Please like and reblog or leave some replies if you liked it!

Taglist: @novareign1, @libbymouse, @calwitch, @soldade, @happiness-in-the-dark, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @wolvesandhoundshowltogether, @zealoushoundrancheclipse, @seanh-boredom, @speakerforthedead0, @rn7rocks, @writingforhenry, @weallhaveadestiny, @suueeeeeee

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“Because. We kissed."

Kissed.

Did you hear him right? Did he just say you kissed? You two kissed? And you didn't remember?

Just the thought of it made you dissolve into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

A valiant effort on his part, truly. He really looked frustrated and confused that you didn't remember. What a brilliant actor.

"Phew!" you brushed the tears from the sides of your eyes and rubbed your nose with the back of your hand

"Right! As if I would ever forget kissing someone like you.” you gestured to him from head to toe, “Specimen.”

“Alright,” he crossed his muscular arms against his equally muscular chest, “I am one hundred and ten percent sure it was you and I’m not about to let you change my mind, madame.”

The challenge was clear in his voice and honestly? It was really hot, his whole stern and smug vibe actually made you forget that you were trying to defend your honour.

How could he just look like that? All tall and handsome and muscular? It threw you off your game. He looked like he was God's favourite.

"Aren’t we going to dinner?" you asked, now openly staring at his eyes

"Oh, god. Of course, you must be starving. I apologise." he dropped his proud stance and immediately grabbed your coat from the rack

Henry graciously helped you put it on, his arms lingered around you just a tad bit longer than needed but it was all very good.

Something must have caught his eye as he stepped away from you. He gave you a small smile and made a move to lean in.

Oh, was this happening now?

Okay, sure. What the hell right? Since he claims to have already kissed you before maybe he needed to be reminded.

You could do that. You knew how to kiss, you’ve kissed people before.

As he leaned in, the smell of his cologne invaded your senses. It was musky but also floral. Combined with his naturally clean, fresh scent, you could just picture yourself on a leisurely stroll with him in a field somewhere, the pristine air carrying the scent of earthy wood and spring flowers all around you. Henry would be gazing at you adoringly and he’d be in a soaked white shirt even though it was a sunny day.

Armed with that picture in your mind, nothing could go wrong. You were definitely feeling it.

You tilted your chin upwards, leaning in to meet him halfway, more than ready to feel those luscious lips on yours. You shut your eyes, just to make it more romantic.

His arms wrapped around you and you went in for the kill.

That’s when the worst possible thing happened. Well, perhaps not the worst thing but this was pretty fucking close.

Instead of the soft lips you were expecting, your lips met the soft material of his sweater.

Yes, that’s right. His sweater.

You, Y/N Y/LN, had just planted a big ol’ smooch on Henry Cavill’s sweater.

Your eyes snapped open and you wondered what you did so wrong in your past life to deserve this. How could you have misjudged the situation so wrongly?

The second Henry felt the tiny amount of pressure on his shoulder, he knew he fucked up. He had no idea why he didn’t just tell you that the collar of your coat was sticking up, why did he feel the need to straighten it himself? Now, what was he going to do? He didn’t want to embarrass you.

But, it was a little too late for that now, wasn’t it?

You both stepped away at the same time, seeming to look at anything else in the room but each other. It was nice of him to also feel embarrassed on your behalf but, you felt like everyone the world over was cringing out of their skin from secondhand embarrassment.

“So, dinner?” Henry offered you his strong arm, grinning at you like nothing happened

Was it possible for him to be even more perfect? As you looped your arm through his, you found out that it was.

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

The expansive cityscape was laid out before you from the secluded trellis covered terrace of the restaurant he chose. The view was beautiful, the lights of the city sprinkled across buildings, homes, and streets, the inky black and blue sky stretching far beyond.

Gazing out at it should have made you feel calm, at peace. But you were a bundle of nerves. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that you’d be on a date with Henry Cavill and you wouldn’t have imagined that he would be accusing you of forgetting that you shared a kiss.

“Look,” you rested your arms on the table, looking at him as seriously as you could without getting lost in his eyes, “I swear, if we really did kiss, I would remember.”

Henry studied you quietly amidst the hustle and bustle of the restaurant beyond the French doors. It was endearing to him, how quickly you would sometimes switch from confident assertiveness to awkward fumbling.

For you, it was a test of endurance to look past the god-given good looks and focus on trying to anticipate what his next move was.

Turns out, it was one in your favour.

“You know what? I think you’re right.”

You almost did a spit take with your wine. Thank God you weren’t wearing anything white.

Okay, act cool. That should be easy, right? You were an actor after all. Just be cool. Relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw, stop sweating.

"I must've been mistaken. I truly apologise."

He looked so sheepish, you actually reached over to put your hand on his. You tilted your head and gave him an understanding smile. A wave of relief washed over your body and to Henry, it showed. Your rigid posture finally loosened and you even managed to lace your fingers through his.

"I totally get it. I mean, with our jobs? We meet dozens of people everyday, it's not hard to be confused."

His heart leapt into his throat at the contact, it felt like his entire arm was covered in live wires but he would endure it just to savour your hand in his.

"Let's focus on our date, yeah?"

"Yes, absolutely," you nodded enthusiastically, "Please. Tell me all about you."

"Oh, but I'd rather hear about you."

You were flattered, really. But just in case this was never going to happen again, you needed to get him talking and sponge up as much information as you could.

"And you will, but let’s hear about you first.”

He wanted to argue but you were already looking at him expectantly and despite your short time together, he was already struggling to say no to you.

So, he talked, and talked, and talked, much more than he’s ever dared to talk in his whole life. And you listened, absolutely captivated by his eloquence, his intelligence, his passion, and his wit. Not to mention his voice, deep and silky and hypnotising. Why people thought he lacked personality was a mystery to you.

“I do love theatre,” he explained with a mouthful pasta. It was adorable, no questions asked. “I wish I had that courage and longevity to just deliver every single night for months on end.”

“I actually started out in theatre.” you nodded your head as he widened his eyes at you questioningly. “Yup. I did a decent run of The Tempest at the Yard a year back.”

That’s when the ball dropped. Time seemed to stop for Henry, his drink hovered in the air just as he was about to raise it to his lips. It had finally made itself known, his smoking gun. He faltered only for a second before masking his triumphant smirk with his wine glass.

One harmless little question out of his mouth had you turning as red as the cherry tomatoes artfully scattered in the salad that was set before you.

“Ah, yes. Didn’t you play Miranda?”

You stopped stirring your iced tea and furrowed a brow at him.

“Yes. Yes, I was. Did you catch a show?”

“I did. I was at the opening night after party as well.” he enunciated this part slowly and clearly, hoping that your eyes would spark with recognition

But they didn’t.

“Isn’t that a shame. We could have done this earlier if we crossed paths that night.”

Henry pursed his lips and nodded, mildly disheartened but nonetheless, he pressed on.

“I do recall meeting you though.”

This again?

You huffed and set your utensils on your plate. You laced your fingers together and looked him in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes.

“Okay. If that is the night in question then I will admit that I… may have kissed someone but it wasn’t you.”

“Well, well, well…” he raised an eyebrow at you and you instantly coloured

It wasn’t one of your finest moments and you figured you would never have to dig that memory out of the vault but here it was.

“I know how this sounds,” you shook your head disapprovingly at him, “But it’s not. Okay. On God, it wasn’t you.”

Henry nodded yet again, narrowing his eyes at you. The silent treatment and judgy look he had on forced you to keep talking, which probably wasn’t the best idea.

“It wasn’t you, Henry. Okay? It was just some random dude in a nice sweater and a signet ring or something.”

Alarm bells started clanging in your head as your eyes swept over your dinner date. Nice sweater, check. A signet ring resting on his pinky, check.

“It wasn’t you.” you repeated in more of a whisper, more to convince yourself than anything else

Throughout your debate, bits and pieces of that night started to come back to you. The most embarrassing part came to mind first, it would probably be your saving grace but, did you really want to tell Henry Cavill what you thought you did?

“Am I really that bad a kisser? That you felt the need to completely erase it from your memory?”

His tone was joking but you could see in his eyes that he was a little bit hurt. It was going to be a cold day in hell if you were going to be the person to make Henry Cavill doubt his skills in the kissing area.

“I kissed a male prostitute that night, okay!” you yelled out in exasperation

Thank God your table was situated on the terrace or else a restaurant full of people would have been in on your little secret. As your voice echoed off the walls, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. How much embarrassment were you going to endure?

“A male prostitute?” Henry repeated slowly, clearly having a difficult time processing this new information

“Yes.” you groaned, leaning back in your seat and covering your face with your hands

---One year before---

The curtains closed to thunderous applause, whistles and standing ovations. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.

Did that really just happen?

You looked around at your castmates and wrangled them into a group hug.

“Did I really just do that?” you asked Marge upon meeting her backstage

“Yes, you did! Now go on and get changed. It’s after party time.”

With that, she sent you off with a smack on your ass.

You’d only known Marge for a few months since you arrived in London but you liked her already. It’s not like you had a choice though, really, she was the only one you knew.

“How about that one, that one over there?” Marge slurred, shoulders knocking into yours, less than discreetly pointing out some guy in the crowd of party goers

“Shh! Marge!” you giggled, more than a little tipsy yourself

Opening night was a smashing success, it was your first ever gig anywhere, really. You were so nervous the entire time, you thought you were doomed to fuck up and forget your lines or something but that moment never came.

“HEY! REVIEWS ARE OUT!” someone yelled in the crowd

“Here we go.” you murmured, knocking back your drink and tugging Marge along

The huge crowd gathered around your director, who was standing on a stool. It was a tight squeeze since a good chunk of the people who came were already hammered. Someone from behind shoved you forward and you rather inelegantly fell into the arms of the man next to you.

“Whoa there.” you could just make out the deep velvety voice above the murmurings of the crowd

“Oh, God, I am so sorry, I-” you trailed off when you finally laid eyes on your rescuer

Oh, wow.

You couldn’t decide which feature to focus on first. The captivating eyes that were a shade of blue that your alcohol-soaked brain couldn’t even comprehend, the strong chiseled jawline you needed a protractor to measure, or the perfect stray curls that fell onto his forehead?

Decisions, decisions.

“Are you alright? You almost fell.”

Goosebumps broke out on your arms as he helped you stand upright.

God, he was handsome, an observation you thought you had kept to yourself.

The tall man chuckled, still holding on to your forearms, “Thanks very much. I’m He-”

“And Y/N, my incomparable Miranda!” a booming voice interrupted him from the front of the room

“Fuck, that’s me.”

You broke from his grasp and fought your way through the crowds, leaving your hero looking out after you.

“Newcomer Y/N Y/L/N’s performance as Miranda is the glittering centrepiece to this refreshing, masterful take on an enduring classic,” the director read aloud, allowing the crowd to raise their glasses to you

You smiled at everyone, inadvertently meeting the eye of your tall handsome man.

When the crowd dispersed, you and Marge found yourselves back at the open bar, eyeing up every guy that passed by.

“Y/N, you’re on the fast track now. You killed tonight, now it’s time to pick your prize! How about that one? In the corner? Looks tall, shaggy hair…”

“Marge, that’s a ficus.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that other ficus has been looking over since we set up camp here.”

You followed the tilt of her head to the same guy from earlier, the achingly handsome one. He raised his glass to you and you waved sloppily back. It was the alcohol, okay? Open bar, what were you gonna do?

Marge whistled low, sizing him up from head to toe, “Y/N, that’s a male prostitute if I’ve ever seen one and I have seen a lot of ones.”

The fry you had chomped down barely made it halfway down your throat before coming back up again, “What? No! Marge, he’s not.”

“But he is. Y/N, that man is tall, hung, and handsome. There is no man that tall, hung, and handsome that isn’t either an actor or a male prostitute.”

“Tall, hung, and handsome.” you mumbled, raking your eyes over him as discreetly as you could

In your inebriated state, you completely forgot to ask Marge why he couldn’t have been an actor. Why did her mind immediately head for the strip club? And why did yours follow suit?

“Imma go and bag myself a stripper, Marge. Okay?”

“Yes! Use protection!”

Before strutting off or more like stumbling off, you downed some more booze which probably was not as good of an idea than you thought. Not even halfway to him, you decided that you were teetering in your heels a little bit too much, so you took them off.

“Oh. Hey there.” the same silky smooth voice from earlier greeted you

“Ah, fuck. You’re tall.”

Looking up at him made you dizzy, like standing at the top of a giant skyscraper and looking down at the very edge.

He chuckled and you watched entranced as his face just lit up like Christmas. You decided then and there that you would like to kiss the Christmas, very much so indeed.

The liquid courage in you was really doing its job. You took his hand and dragged him away from the party. This was fine, wasn’t it? It’s not like he was complaining, he looked rather amused actually. Things like this probably happen to him a lot in his line of work.

“Well, now you have me, what are you going to do with me?” he asked teasingly once you two were tucked away in a dark corner

The combined effects of the excessive alcohol, the high of your first successful job, and the way this sinfully handsome man was looking at you made your next move the easiest thing in the world.

You balled the front of his sweater in your fist and tugged him down towards you. He was too tall.

Who on earth was this ballsy, clumsy, beautiful, talented stranger?

Henry didn’t get the chance to ask before his lips came crashing down and immediately, wildfire.

A shockwave of frenzy ran through his body, he needed to feel you. He was all hands and lips and ragged breaths. His lips traveled down the smooth path of your throat, nipping and sucking as he went. You were putty in his hands.

“Jump.” he growled

You did as he asked and he latched his hands underneath your thighs and planted you against the wall. His lower half pressed into yours and you knew that Marge was right. Your hands raked through his hair and you reveled in the feel of him, strong, confident, in charge. His large hands made their way to your bottom and he squeezed gently.

A breathy moan escaped your lips and you knew you needed to have more of this man. Your fumbling hands made their way to his belt buckle but he set you down on your feet and held you steady.

“What..?” you whispered, suddenly disoriented

“I really should take you on a date first.” he panted

Sober, you definitely would have taken him up on his offer, male prostitute or not, but you were far from it and your head was still spinning so you thought you’d shut your eyes for a while and have him catch your unconscious form.

With you over his shoulder and your shoes in one hand, Henry made his way to his car and drove you safely home, relying on the satnav and your slurred directions.

He laid you gently in bed, brushing the hair away from your face. You snored in your drunken sleep and Henry smiled at the sound.

This was an encounter he was sure he would remember for a long time.

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

“Well, that was me,” Henry nodded his head with his bottom lip jutted out. “Exactly as you remembered it.”

Tall, hung, and handsome, huh? That wasn’t anything new to him. He’s been described using far more… graphic detail, if his time searching his name on Tumblr was anything to go by. But hearing it come from your mouth turned him several shades of red.

You, on the other hand, had no words. Again. But you figured that it was all Marge’s fault.

“So, I suppose I was right?” he confirmed, unable to contain the self-satisfied smirk on his face

“Uh, yeah,” you sighed, absolutely exhausted from your little trip down memory lane. “Yeah, I guess you were right.”

Slowly, you met each other’s eyes. A moment passed before you both dissolved into fits of laughter.

“Do I look like a male prostitute? Did I exude that kind of energy at the time?” Henry guffawed, shoulders shaking

“God, I don’t even know how I thought that! I was super drunk, okay?” you covered your face with your hands, mortified and extremely amused at yourself

The laughter died down and you were left gazing at each other fondly. Dessert had long since been over and the night went on, the candlelights on your table and scattered around the quiet terrace intensified the feeling that was passing between you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and settled on your lips. Unlike all the other times today, you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t feel like you were about to make a fool of yourself, you felt completely calm.

“Would it be alright with you if we picked up where we left off that night?”

Ever the gentleman. You smiled and made your way over to him.

“Hi.” you made yourself comfortable on his lap and you laced your arms around his neck

“Hello, there.” he whispered against your lips

It was probably not the best place to do this, in a restaurant where upwards of twenty people were just beyond the terrace doors but you were in your own little world.

You were endlessly thankful that you were sober for this, you would never forgive yourself otherwise.

When his lips finally met yours, you wondered how on earth you ever forgot such a feeling. It was gentle and soft, as most of these things start, his thumbs caressed that apple of your cheeks then he laid a chaste kiss on each.

You breathed long and hard as his hands splayed on your back, pushing you closer to him. His warm tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip before exploring your mouth, the taste of you mixed with the subtle taste of wine was exquisite and he wanted more. He drank you in, holding you flush against him.

“Wait.” you took his hand and led him to the far side of the terrace to an alcove enveloped in a curtain of lush vines

“When did you spot this?” Henry asked, breathless as you sat him down and straddled him once again

“On the way in.” you had the audacity to blush

“You had plans for me already?”

“A girl always comes prepared.”

Nothing would ever prepare you for the sight of his full length, once his trousers were lowered, it was over for you. Henry took control by shoving your underwear to the side and impaling you onto him. You inhaled sharply, screwing your eyes tightly shut.

“Are you okay?” he struggled to control himself, having you quivering on top of him was severely testing his restraint

“Yes. Please. Move.” all you could manage were monosyllabic answers

And move he did. It should be illegal to be this good.

The night air was cool but you were both slick with sweat, you two had lost your tops a while ago and Henry’s tongue swept across the valley of your breasts and marked his territory everywhere he could. His thrusts were enough to bruise you but you never wanted anything more than to feel him.

“Henry,” you gasped out as he continued to hit that spot that made you see stars

He could sense that you were close, you were tightening around him and gripping him like a vise.

“Let go, lovely.” he whispered in your ear, committing the way your face twisted into a mask of pleasure and desperation to memory

You rode him furiously, the sound of your flesh colliding over and over again mingled with your hoarse moans, you were certain that someone would hear you but at that moment all you cared about was reaching your peak and with Henry Cavill at the helm?

His large hand clamped around your mouth as you came, you writhed and arched your body uncontrollably as his thrusts became more erratic. He pulled out of you and began to finish himself off, he did not expect for your hand to join his and he did not expect to come so quickly once it did.

“Jesus.” he panted, reaching over to smooth your hair out of your face

You shivered, suddenly very aware that you weren't wearing anything at all. Henry helped you dress quickly and wrapped his own coat around you, rubbing some heat into your arms.

When you refused to look him in the eye the entire ride back to your flat, that’s when Henry started getting nervous.

It’s not like he could ask you if you enjoyed it? I mean, he could but that would make him look like an amateur and he would really like to think that he was no amateur in that area. So instead, he took your hand as you stood in front of your door.

“Y/N, I would love to do this again. The date, not the sex- I mean, I would like to have sex with you again but that's not what I'm after-Holy shit."

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Henry rubbed at his face with a hand and sighed, "Do you think you'd like to see me again?"

"Do you think you'd like to stay the night?"

Both of you asked your questions at the same time and you both looked taken aback at them.

"What makes you think I don't want to see you again?" you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him

"You were silent the whole car ride?"

He looked so unsure and a little afraid that you couldn't help but squeeze him. How could someone be both heartbreakingly handsome and adorable all at the same time?

"I was just summoning up the courage to ask you to stay the night!"

"Oh thank God."

He swept you off your feet and threw your door open but, you didn’t end up in bed (you’d get there later), you ended up in the same place you started, on the couch, with him spectating and occasionally helping out as you played Witcher 3.

The next morning, you woke up to a text message and a forwarded article from Marge,

“HOW BEING A STAN GOT Y/N Y/L/N HER MAN”

YOU TWO ARE EVERYWHERE. CHECK IT OUT! I TAKE CASH, CHEQUES, AND LAVISH GIFTS. YOU’RE WELCOME.

A muscular arm gently wrapped around your bare waist and a tender kiss was pressed onto your shoulder. You looked back at your handsome bedfellow and smiled.

You’d take a look at it later. Right now, you had better things to do.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the man from uncle

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 3 years ago

Text

Camp North Star - July 15th

AFAB!Reader x Jeon Wonwoo

Word Count: 2101

Contents: nearly fainting, oral (reader receiving), fingering, marking

Note: sorry not sorry hehe

“I feel like the days are getting longer,” you groaned, stretching out your arms. Your body was getting tired and a little worn down.

Wonwoo gave you a frown from where he was organizing the life jackets. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine,” you said. Still as you sat into one of the chairs you let out a groan. “God I sound like an old man.”

“You sound stiff,” he said, coming over to you. “Do you need anything?”

A smile tugged at your lips. “You don’t have to do anything for me. The summer is just busy like that.”

“This weekend it’ll be busier with the overnight canoe trip.”

“And I did it last year and I survived,” you chuckled. “It’s alright. I’m sure other people are getting tired too. It’s a lot of work.”

Wonwoo leaned against the table. “It is. Still, make sure you’re actually rested for the weekend, okay?”

“Aww Wonwoo. You’re so cute when you care.”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as his cheeks went pink. “I just don’t want you to pass out or something on the weekend. I don’t need to take care of you and the kids.”

“Sure,” you hummed. “Unless you like taking care of me.”

“Definitely not,” he scoffed.

“You sure are fussing over me a lot for someone who doesn’t care,” you snickered.

“I can’t care about the well being of my friend?”

“So you admit you do care!”

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, going back to finish hanging the life jackets.

“I’m charming,” you said, getting up to help him.

Your body seemed to have other plans. As soon as you stood a wave of dizziness hit you. The room tilted awfully as stars popped in your view and white encroached on your vision. You quickly dropped down into the chair, clamoring for the edge of the table and making a loud thud in the process. Wonwoo spun around quickly and rushed over to you.

“See, maybe I have to take care of you if you’re not going to,” he fussed.

“I am fine, dude,” you said, though feeling a little out of breath.

“You’re clearly not.”

“I stood up really fast and my body said nope. It happens to everyone. It’s fine.” You tried to stand again but Wonwoo pushed you back into the chair by your shoulders.

“You should really stay put for a bit before getting up.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Well what am I supposed to do?”

“Wait,” he chuckled.

“You better find some way to entertain me then,” you grumbled.

Wonwoo looked at you for a moment, seeming to think. A smirk started to form on his lips and before you asked why he moved properly in front of you, hands resting on your thighs as he leaned down over you.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

He quirked an eyebrow as he sank to his knees. “Entertaining you.”

“Oh,” you didn’t manage any other words but your speechlessness just emboldened him.

Wonwoo ran his fingers up your thighs before taking the waist of your shorts in his hands. You held his gaze, starting to grin as he pulled your shorts and panties off, lifting your hips off the chair.

Wonwoo gently pushed your thighs apart. You slid your hips forwards for him, resting your back on the chair and toying with the hem of your shirt. Wonwoo didn’t move right between your legs, instead pressing soft, gentle kisses to your inner thighs. He met your gaze again, a depth and intensity in his.

You tore your eyes away from him quickly, gripping the sides of the chair as he kissed closer. You could feel your stomach doing strange flip flops. You were much more comfortable with Wonwoo now though, and you were comfortable enough with being eaten out.

The sudden nerves were catching you off guard.

“Are you doing okay?” He murmured against your skin.

“Mhm,” you replied, bringing your gaze back to meet his. “I’m good.”

He seemed to search your expression for a moment before moving between your legs. You let one hand run gently through his hair. His gaze dropped from yours as he brought his tongue out, dragging it over your clit and sending a jolt of sensation through your body.

But not a pleasant one.

You bit down on your lip anxiously as he continued the same movement, his tongue moving too roughly to be pleasurable. You felt the awkwardness bubble up inside of you as you peeked down at him. How could you tell him it wasn’t great?

“Ah- Can you slow down a bit?” You asked. Wonwoo’s gaze flickered up to meet yours and he hummed in response before moving his tongue slower.

… and still as roughly.

You let out a shaky breath. The sensation was doing something but not what you wanted it to do. Any sensation on your clit would do something, fairly enough. But this was not what you had in mind.

You curled your fingers into Wonwoo’s hair, letting out a gasp at the particularly rough movement of his tongue. Could you even finish like this? You couldn’t fake it. That wasn’t fair to either of you. But you also didn’t want to make it awkward.

“Wonwoo?”

He paused to look up at you.

“C-Can you be a little gentler?”

You watched as his cheeks and the tops of his ears blushed as he nodded. You tried to relax back into the hair again as his tongue came between your legs once more.

This was better. The movements felt good at least. They didn’t hurt, which was something. And slowly you felt the sparks of arousal starting in your core. You pressed towards him a little more as he kept the same consistent pace.

You let out a sigh, the build was slow but it was happening. You let your eyes fall shut as you enjoyed the sensation a little better. Very slow tendrils of pleasure curled through your core, each lick giving a little bit of pleasure.

It was hard to keep your mind focused. You wanted to have no thoughts, just gripping his hair while he gave you amazing head. But unfortunately your head was abuzz with thoughts. It felt like it was going to take too long. How long could you last before it stopped feeling good and you just couldn’t get off? Would you actually fake it then just to end it? That seemed shitty. This motion wasn’t quite cutting it but it was better than what you had been getting. How did you even go about telling him this? Was he aware that your brain was miles away at the moment?

“Is everything okay?”

Your gaze snapped down to meet his. There was a pink dusting of blush across his nose and cheeks. He squeezed your thighs as he gazed up at you, looking a little nervous. “You’re being pretty quiet.”

Apparently he did notice.

“Yeah I- uh-” You could just spit it out. But you didn’t really want to hurt his ego. Not when he offered and he was clearly trying. “I’m just- I’m sorry I can’t stop thinking about your fingers.”

It seemed to be a good enough save because a smirk tugged at his lips as he regained some of his confidence.

“I can do that,” he said, trailing his fingers through your folds, the sensation immediately feeling better and drawing a shuddering breath from you.

His fingers collected some of your slick, taking a few moments to rub gentle circles into your clit before he slowly pressed two fingers inside, curling them into you and quickly finding just the right spot again. Finally a moan fell from your lips as you let your head loll to the side.

He started to lean his head in closer, moving towards your clit again and you tried to keep yourself from tensing, trying to think quickly.

“Hickies!”

How eloquent of you.

Wonwoo looked up at you, a bit of confusion colouring his expression. You felt the heat rushing to your face but you stuck with it.

“I-I want hickies, from you. C-Can you give me some?”

Whether he fully picked up on your tone and was ignoring it for the moment, or he was unaware of it in the moment you didn’t know. He didn’t question your awkward outburst or strange behavior and that you were thankful for.

Wonwoo gave you a small smirk, fingers starting to move again in steady motions while his lips trailed a few kisses along your inner thigh. You bit down on your lip, finally fully relaxing. The movements of his fingers were working you up much more quickly, the pleasure drawing quiet moans from your lips.

He found a sensitive spot, high on your inner thigh, and sucked on it. You broke from his gaze, letting your eyes fall closed with a sigh. Slowly, your hips started to roll forwards into the motion of his fingers. Your fingers curled around the edges of the chair, steadying you.

The feeling as he sucked dark bruises into your skin was lovely. You found your hips pressing closer to him for more pleasure as the coil started to curl inside you, tightening little by little. The sound of his fingers, moving in your cunt with lewd, wet sounds, his lips sucking on your skin and his hums and moans against your skin sent even more arousal through your body.

“Oh fuck,” the word fell off your lips as Wonwoo brought the fingers of his other hand to to your clit. He started to rub steady, smooth circles against your sensitive bud while his fingers curled into you more quickly. You felt a tremor run through your body as you started to clench around his fingers.

His lips moved to your other thigh and he gave your skin a soft nip between his teeth that drew a gasp from your lips. You couldn’t see your own gaze but as you looked down at Wonwoo a smirk tugged at his lips and you could only imagine what you looked like, panting and moaning for him as he leaned in again, finding another spot to leave a soft bite.

You let out a louder moan as you threw your head back. Your eyes took in the shadows that stretched across the ceiling above you and the glow of warm oranges and reds that came from the sky and the setting sun all before your eyes fell closed. The coil inside you curled impossibly tight and your hips tried to ride his fingers, so close to your edge until you finally succumbed to the pleasure.

You let out a soft gasping cry as you came. Your body trembled and you held onto the chair as pleasure washed through your body. Wonwoo let you ride out the orgasm on his fingers, pulling back as your body fully relaxed, and having pushed your hips so far forwards, you slipped right off the chair and into his lap.

You let out a yelp and Wonwoo chuckled as he caught you against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you there as your body slowed it’s shaking, sitting back to make you more comfortable. You suggled your head into his chest. Maybe it had just been a long time since you cuddled up with someone, but this moment felt so nice.

“Somehow I don’t think that made you any less dizzy,” he chuckled.

“It helped me in other ways. Does that count?”

Wonwoo rested his head on top of yours and you felt your stomach do a flip. “Mmm, I guess it does. Are you feeling alright?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “It was good.”

“Good,” there was something in his tone that you didn’t have the brain power to think too hard about in the moment. “I’m glad.”

“You’re pretty good to me.”

You did have the brain power to notice his body tensing slightly around you.

“I’m lucky to have you around this year.”

“Yanan wouldn’t put out last year, huh?” The joke made you snort, though you noticed he didn’t totally relax.

“Shut up,” you chuckled. “I didn’t look for anyone to put out last year, dumbass.”

Wonwoo was chuckling, but he still tried to get up. You gripped him a little tighter, not ready to move yet.

“Can we- just stay here a bit longer. I’m still not too sure about standing yet.”

Wonwoo settled again, hugging you a little tighter. “Of course.”

#camp north star au #cns au #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo imagines #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo smut #no im not sorry for this #its funny to me hehe

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amarimaryllis · 4 years ago

Text

I Do Not Think I Would (Bokuto x Reader)

Pairing: Bokuto/Reader

Prompt/Summary: The rational side of you tells you to leave, but for Bokuto Koutarou, you choose to stay. Alternatively, Bokuto Koutarou’s fangirls are ruthless.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Haikyuu Timeskip Spoilers

Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Bold Italicized sentences are excerpts from the poem “Love is Not All” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Warnings: Mild Swearing, Mentions of self-hate, Mentions of insecurity, Bokuto has toxic fans

Part of A Sensitivity to Ephemera

You met Bokuto Koutarou in your 3rd year at Fukurodani, but you had known of his existence for longer. It was hard to not know of Bokuto Koutarou if you studied in Fukurodani. Hell, it was hard to not know of him if you studied in Tokyo in general. Aside from the fact that he was the embodiment of solar energy, Bokuto Koutarou also had a ton of admirers.

Fangirls

Fanboys.

And everything in between and beyond.

However, the first time you ever interacted with him was in Honda-sensei’s room. It was quick, a brief encounter that promised longer ones. Bokuto’s grades had been slipping, and you were his assigned tutor.

“Bokuto-san, this is L/N-san from Class 6.” Honda-sensei introduces you two briefly. “She’ll be tutoring you until your grades are back to… Satisfactory. I trust you to not give her a hard time.”

“Nice to meet you, L/N-san!” Bokuto bows briefly, the grin plastered on his face, unfading. However, there’s a sense of urgency in his stance, vibrating, itching to run off. Probably because he had volleyball training, and nothing in this world could keep Bokuto Koutarou from his beloved sport.

You didn’t know why, but your heart was beating a little bit faster than normal.

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;

After a few weeks of tutoring, Bokuto’s grades were slowly getting better. It wasn’t “satisfactory” yet, according to Honda-sensei, but you guys were getting there. As a celebration, right after volleyball practice, Bokuto drags you to the closest cafe and tells you to choose anything you want because it was “on him” as he enthusiastically stated.

“Bokuto-san, you didn’t have to.” You mumble bashfully as Bokuto sets a tray down and seats across from you.

“Don’t worry about it!” Bokuto grins as he slides the food over to you. “It’s the least I can do since you’ve been such a great tutor.”

A small smile makes its way to your face. “I guess I’ll take it then. Thank you for the food!”

As you eat, you can see Bokuto’s eyes continuously flitting back and forth between a spot on your face and away from it. He looked hesitant, but your sudden speaking urges him to reply.

“Is there anything on my face?” You furrow your brows, raising a hand to wipe at your cheek.

“Ah yeah, wait, not there.” Bokuto reaches over the table, a large hand cupping your cheek before he presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth and swipes to remove whatever it was on your face. “You had sauce on your face.”

Fire and ice could co-exist at once, you concluded. Because if it didn’t, then you would like to present yourself as evidence. You were frozen, but inside you, there was an inferno of different emotions swirling, sparked by a single touch on your skin.

That night, after Bokuto had walked you home and you had settled in for the night, you dreamt of black and white streaks paired with the brightest golden eyes. You let yourself dream. You knew that this was the closest you could get to him. The real world wasn’t as kind to you after all.

While you slept soundly, Bokuto walked home. It was raining, but it didn’t matter to him because as the rain drops onto his skin, he wished that it was your touch that fell upon him instead. And for a second as he imagines, it almost felt like it was.

And though he so desperately wished for it as he lied in bed, slumber never came. Instead, in its place, were a hundred different stories, a hundred different futures, a hundred different lifetimes, and they all ended with the sight of a bashful smile, and the prettiest eyes.

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,

Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

You gripped at your skirt tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape your eyes. Fear gripped your chest as you watched Bokuto’s sleeping figure from your place on the chair beside the bed. There had been a small accident during Fukurodani’s practice match, a small collision, but it was enough to send him to the infirmary and you running after him.

It was stupid, you think to yourself. You had rushed to the clinic the moment your break started, and by the time you reached the room, you were a mess. The nurse only gave you a cheeky smile before she patted your back and said, “Don’t worry about your boyfriend. It’s a minor injury and it was probably just an ant bite for someone like him.”

Ant bites didn’t usually require sleep for recovery.

Also, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d be the biggest liar on earth if you said that you didn’t want him to be. You were just his tutor. Sure you’d been tutoring him for a long time, and that was enough to form a friendship of sorts, but that was all you’ll ever be: a friend. So why were you acting like you were something more? Friends get concerned, they’ll drop by, check on you, go off once they realize it’s minor and you’re in good hands, and then wait for you to recover. They don’t stay, fussing, practically crying, and worrying over something so small.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that the sudden placement of a heavy palm on your head startles you.

Bokuto chuckles as he takes in your disheveled state. Your eyes are damp, your hair is slightly messed up, and your skirt is still tight in your grip, but even then, he still couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way you looked. “Hey hey hey, did I make you worry that much?”

You can’t help it. He’s recovering, you know that, but you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at him and enveloping him in a hug. “I hate you so much. Promise me you’ll never make me worry like that ever again.”

Bokuto chuckles and you could feel the vibrations since you two were practically chest-to-chest. “If making you worry means you’ll hug me like this, then I don’t think I can make any promises.”

“Bokuto-san…” You attempt to pull away, but find yourself unable.

Sturdy arms wrap around your waist, and your frozen figure is pulled tighter against Bokuto’s body as he engulfs you with his larger frame. “Do you like me, Y/N-chan?”

You freeze.

Oh hell no.

Out of all the conversations in this world, this one was the one you did not want to have, especially not when you were emotionally vulnerable. You didn’t know if you had enough control over yourself to give the proper answers.

“What? No! I mean yes? You’re my friend, of course I like you.” Your fight or flight response to this conversation seems to have given you ample strength to pull away. You attempt to stand straight and face this problem head on, but your feet are pointing you towards the exit.

Ready to run. From this conversation. From your feelings. From rejection.

Bokuto raises a brow, a teasing grin on his face. “Oh, really?”

Contrary to popular belief (see: Honda-sensei), Bokuto Koutarou was not stupid. Very far from it. While he’s not academically gifted, he’s definitely smart on the people side of things.

You were an open book, and Bokuto was taking his time rereading every page.

“I…” You’re unable to answer, unable to find the words that would make the impending rejection hurt less.

“Well, if it helps—“ Bokuto sits up and sets his feet on the ground, lightly grabbing you to make you stand between his legs. “—I like you a lot.”

Your heart stops. Your world stops. Everything just stops. You’re gaping at Bokuto, mouth closing and opening as you try to find the proper words. You want to reply, eloquently, confidently, to save what’s left of your dignity, but you can only blink back at him.

You weren’t expecting this. Bokuto wasn’t expecting this.

A wave of uncertainty flashes through Bokuto’s eyes, and for a second, he wonders if he misread the situation. “Hey, it’s ok if you don’t feel the same—“

“Wait, no! That’s—“ You take in a deep breath, attempting to calm your racing heart as you try to find your next words. For someone who usually kept a level head, you sure weren’t acting like it. “That’s not it at all. I just… Are you sure?”

Bokuto is confused. He could understand the words individually. He could understand the sentence too, but he couldn’t understand its relevance in this context. What did you mean by ‘are you sure?’. Would he tell you if he wasn’t? Why wouldn’t anyone be sure about you? I mean, it’s you.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” Bokuto grabs your hand, and he laces his fingers through yours.

You don’t answer as you attempt to arrange your whirlwind of insecurity into one coherent sentence that could sum it all up. You didn’t want to burden him with an entire monologue of self-deprecation, but you couldn’t find a way to express the years of insecurity into one sentence that could do that feeling justice.

Bokuto sees this, and his heart breaks for a second. He was familiar with it. He knew those feelings all too well.

Uncertainty.

Doubt.

Self-Hatred.

“Can I kiss you?” Bokuto blurts out, and as he watches you get flustered, he thinks that this is a much better look on you compared to the one you were previously wearing.

You don’t speak. You just nod.

With that, Bokuto grabs you by the waist and reaches up to press his lips against yours.

It was Bokuto who broke the kiss, breathless as he pressed his forehead to yours. It was almost as if you had taken his breath away to breathe a new life into him with a simple kiss. You can feel his warm breath against your lips, his calloused hands gripping at your waist, and at the same time, you feel nothing. Maybe this is what it felt like to know of everything and nothing all at once. Hyperaware of every feeling, every part of your body that was connected to his, but at the same time you felt weightless, floating on a plane that didn’t seem to exist on earth.

“Can I do that again?” Bokut asks with a grin.

You don’t answer, simply grabbing at his collar and smashing your lips against his.

That was how your love story with Bokuto Koutarou started.

And you wish it ended there.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,

Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,

Bokuto’s fans were ruthless.

Bokuto’s fans are ruthless.

The toxic fangirls? Even more so.

Not all of them are terrible to you, some are kind, but there are enough bad apples that you start wanting to run away the moment you see the tree. His fangirls during highschool only ever went as far as gossipping and making snide remarks, but now that you were older and Bokuto was part of the MSBY Black Jackals, they had gotten worse.

Facebook? You don’t spend time there anyway.

Instagram? You’ve always avoided that place.

Twitter? Ah, good luck.

People are ruthless when they hide behind a screen and a fake name. Anonymity has a way of sparking bravery in even the most sheltered souls. There wasn’t a single tweet on your account that had no comment telling you how you’re not good enough, how Bokuto probably only stayed out of pity, how he’d probably break up with you soon, how they could make him happier than someone like you ever could.

Bokuto doesn’t know. He doesn’t have to know. You don’t want to tell him.

You’re never going to tell him.

It’s pathetic, you think to yourself. You’re afraid that if Bokuto saw these comments, the rose-colored glasses he wore would shatter. You were afraid that these tweets would tip him off the edge and plunge him into the sea of realization. The realization that he could do so much better than someone like you.

You were tired. So tired that you just want to give in to the comments and leave. It’s logical, after all. Bokuto would find someone much better than you. He’d go off, marry a girl deserving of him, and she’ll give him a family, a future, and a life worthy of someone like him. And you? You’d be free. Alone, heart destroyed beyond repair, but free. You could move on, move away, move as far as you could: out of sight, out of mind. It was so easy.

Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,

But you couldn’t.

The only thing you could do was stare at the tweets that dissected each and every single one of your insecurities and laid it bare, waved it around freely for the world to see and judge. You could only let the tears fall as the laptop screen glared back at your face. Everything is numb and you don’t feel like yourself as you scroll through every single comment and find yourself agreeing with each and every single one.

Sobs wrack throughout your body as it all becomes too much.

You’re too weak to stay, too weak to leave. So where do you go? Where the hell are you supposed to place yourself in this world when it feels like everything is going against you? Why was the world doing this to you? Why did it have to be you? You weren’t strong enough for this. You weren’t good enough for this, you never were, never are, and never will be--

“Love?”

You immediately slam the laptop shut and throw the covers over your body as if you had been there the whole time instead of sitting at the edge of the bed and crying over comments.

“Hey…” The side of the bed sinks. “Bad day?”

The fucking worst. You thought to yourself, but you only shook your head before burying your head deeper into the covers of your shared bed.

“Don’t wanna talk about it?” You can hear the worry in Bokuto’s voice as he places his hand on your waist over the blanket, rubbing up and down to soothe you.

Some part of you finds the courage to speak, and the words tumble out of your mouth faster than your brain can process them. “Why are you still with me?”

“Because I love you.” Bokuto doesn’t hesitate as he looks at your still-covered figure.

“What if you stop?” You mumble, but it was loud enough for Bokuto to hear,

“Not possible.” Bokuto gently pries the blankets away from you, uncovering your form that was curled up into a fetal position.

“But— Just—“ You turn the other way, unable to look at him. “What if you do?”

“Like I said—” You can feel the mattress behind you dip lower, sturdy arms moving to wrap around your waist as Bokuto nuzzles his face into your nape. “—not possible.”

With that, the tears start flowing once more.

You bury your face into the pillow, not wanting to show Bokuto because you knew that the sight of you crying wasn’t something he liked. He hated seeing you in distress, and he hated that the only thing he could do was talk you through it and comfort you.

“Hey hey hey…” Bokuto pulls away and makes you sit up straight before he sits against the headboard and pulls you to sob into his chest. “Where’s this coming from? What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong.” You spat angrily, your grip on his shirt tightening. Anger at yourself, anger at the universe, all summed up in a single sentence. “Nothing ever goes right anymore, and I’m just—“

Your speaking is interrupted as another wave of sobs. “I’m so tired.”

You can feel Bokuto freeze, his hand that was rubbing your back stopping as he takes in your words. “Of what?”

“Everything.” You murmur, your grip on Bokuto’s shirt loosening as you press your forehead against his neck. “Just everything.”

“Does that include me?” You can hear Bokuto’s voice waver as his grip around you gets weaker. “Are you… Are you breaking up with me?”

You’re silent for a while. Was this it? Was the universe making the choice for you?

Whatever it was, you take it.

You pull away and look down, unable to stare into Bokuto’s eyes. You didn’t know if you could pull through if you could see the look on his face as you say your next words. “If it means that it will all stop, then maybe I should.”

Bokuto’s heart shatters, and his world follows in its footsteps. He can feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He knew you had been acting off the past few days, but he gave you some space so that you could sort it out until you were ready to finally approach him. But this? He wasn’t prepared for this.

“Why?” There’s a painful tug at your chest as you hear Bokuto speak in such a broken tone. “Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” You cringe inwardly at your statement. Of all the things you could’ve said, you just had to say the most overused line in all of break-up history. “Bokuto, you—“

“It’s Kou.” You can hear Bokuto’s voice crack at the end. “It’s not Bokuto to you, Y/N. It’s Kou. Whatever it is just tell me, please I can fix it—“

“I’m the problem, okay?!” You couldn’t stop yourself from raising your tone, standing up from the bed to distance yourself from Bokuto. “I’m not good enough for you. I don’t deserve you. They’re right when they say that you could do so much better than me—“

You’re cut off as a sob pulls itself from your chest. Your chest is tight, your head is throbbing. Your legs are shaky and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling to your knees as you continue to cry. “I-I just… I know I don’t, but I-I’m so tired of b-being constantly r-reminded that I’m never g-going to be enough.”

“Y/N, none of that is true. Who told you that?” Bokuto’s tone gives away the pain he was feeling, but there was a hint of anger underneath it all.

You don’t answer, shaking your head, continuing to sob as Bokuto moves from the bed to kneel in front of you.

“Love, who told you that?” Bokuto places a comforting hand on your thigh as his other hand lightly grabs you by the chin to make you look at him.

“Everyone.” You wondered how pathetic you looked in his eyes right now. “Not a single day passes by where I’m not reminded by your fans. It’s stupid to keep listening to them, but they’re right—“

Bokuto cuts you off with a brief kiss, just enough to shut you up to give him a chance to speak as he moves to cup your cheek in his palm. “No, they’re not. They never will be.”

You don’t reply. You don’t argue, but you don’t agree either.

“Don’t break up with me, please.” Bokuto cups your face with both of his hands, occasionally brushing his thumb over your cheek as he presses his forehead against yours. “You mean the world to me. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are, and I know you don't believe that.”

You sob at that, and Bokuto is quick to press a kiss against your forehead and pull you into his chest. “If I have to spend my entire life reminding you of that then I will.”

I might be driven to sell your love for peace,

Or trade the memory of this night for food.

Bokuto hovers over you, his arms on either side of your holding him up as he looks at you with the most lovestruck look you’ve ever seen on someone.

“You’re perfect.” Bokuto whispers against your lips before he presses a searing kiss against your lips. “Absolutely perfect.”

Bokuto presses his weight against yours, pulling your bodies closer to each other as he continues to kiss you breathless. You wrap your arms around his neck, an attempt to blur the boundaries of skin, muscle, and bone that separate your soul and his. He pulls you closer against him, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of your hips as he trails his kisses down your neck and every expanse of skin that was laid bare for him.

“I love you so much.” Bokuto whispers repeatedly against your skin between every kiss he puts on you. “So much.”

As you laid beside Bokuto, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face nuzzling into his bare chest, the thoughts of ever leaving slowly become more distant and fade away into oblivion. His chest rises and falls, and you find your breathing slowly matching his as you observe his sleeping face, peaceful, unbothered by all the troubles of the world beyond your bedroom.

You smile to yourself. All rational thought tells you to leave, but for Bokuto Koutarou...

It well may be. I do not think I would.

A/N: That’s two parts of the collection down, and three more to go! This one was supposed to be the lightest out of the five, but my finger slipped so... Whoops? HAHAHAGDHDHSJHS Anyway, I hope you guys like this one! 💖

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #genre.angstfluff #cont.spoilers #tw swearing #tw self deprecation #tw insecurity

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lunarscaled · 2 years ago

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"Blood 's not water."

-> It grates against their nerves to be yelled at repeatedly like such; their father was somewhat more eloquent with his words than the demon before them, even if they started to slur after a few drinks, but it didn't make them any more tolerant of the volume level that came with such rancor. He seemed overwhelmed with it, like a gushing faucet, and the more he gnashed his teeth and fumed the less Lyric felt they would be able to have an amicable conversation that kept them both out of a scuffle. Not that they were in good condition to trade blows: an arm presses down on their abdomen where all the skin has gone purple and tender, try to hide how they need to clench their jaw to sit up another inch or two. They swallow how the sharp pain is so potent it makes them feel like they might vomit, or how they knew they couldn't possibly have come here to kill him, because it took only being on the outskirt of one sudden strike for them to want to scuttle away like a bug. Perhaps he was right---they should have more self respect. Enough to know when they're beat and when they can pull out a trick card up their sleeve, at least.

"Someone, somewhere... not anymore. Those people are well dead. I buried them myself."

-> How deep a grave could a child dig with their own two hands? Not very. They had gravedirt under their nails and in the crevices of their skin long after they had left behind some makeshift buried body of what had been left of their mother, of their brother. That pitiful upturned soil marked with stones like wards against hungry animals who would eat even bones was the most they could do in their small state. Who was he to threaten them with it now? Had he any idea of the world beyond his territory? Beyond this country? Had he ever set a single foot into an ocean; had he ever been dragged under by a wave and choked on the salt? Did he know the sand of many deserts, or the beasts like him lurking therein? Of course not. Maybe if he did he wouldn't explode on them like this. ( the gears of their thoughts are turning again. they didn't have time to set up a protection spell of any kind, and they doubt they could move much without him taking action. what could be done with words alone? what could they do with the dirt beneath them and little else? it was hard to know what route to take without knowing how he fights---if death was his goal, perhaps resistance was their only option? )

"---saying I was going to kill you is a bit much. I was just hoping to chat for a minute."

-> Not even that. But flat out rejecting him didn't seem like a method that would get them out of this. They bring up one hand to their mouth and cough wetly into it ( ---was that blood? probably not, right? surely just a cut on the inside of their mouth somewhere. ) as aches scatter and spark all over their body. The same hand falls to the wayside and clenches in the dirt, holding a loose fistful of it in their hand. It's dampened by saliva and blood, making it stick to their palm ( ah... perhaps a construct of some type? they don't really have time to build things though, do they? )

"I am a coward, you're right. That's why I've run all the way here, headfirst into demons---because I'm cowardly."

-> They clench the wet dirt tighter in their palm. It spills through their fingers and makes them think of feathers sprouting from skin. They doubt flying would get them away, though.

"---what if I know the secret to happiness? I'm actually a sorcerer, you know? You demons aren't the only ones going around with magic; what if I could fix your... er, his fear?"

“Drink your own fucking blood, for all that I care, and do it quickly!”

He was fucking pissed off. Hoe could he not be, the others where a bunch of fucking idiots. Not taking anything seriously, joking, laughing, playing. Or fucking crying. All of them just got right under his skin and fucking bugged the life out of them something shocking, but being trapped inside, with them all, was worse than being outside with them all running around and doing whatever the fuck they wished to do. As long as they would fall into line and do as he told them, then everything would go the way it was meant to be. Only one life was important in moments like this, their own. They had to protect their tiny self, they had to keep him hidden, as small as he was, as well hidden as he was, they could not fuck around if someone got to close to him and tried to hurt him. They could not be hurt themselves, but he fucking could. Annoying, very fucking annoying, but it was the duty he was charged with and he would kill everyone that got in his way. The fact that they were still alive! He was boiling with anger that they had not the decency to drop fucking dead on the ground and just fucking die already. It made his eyes twitch with rage, if his eyebrows could go any lower, if his face could twist and break even further in his anger, as he gritted his fangs, to the point that they had cracked and heal, as he remained still, he hated this. Fucking humans, and there need and want to live, to place themselves above all others! As if they had the right! There lives where worthless! Demons where superior and chosen by a powerful lord, the only fucking lord within the world that mattered, everyone else, was nothing!

“Don’t waste my fucking time!”

As he raised his head up to look at them, crimson eyes narrowing as he held onto the golden staff a little bit tighter, making himself ready to use it once more to kill them.

“Someone, somewhere knows you. I’ll kill them all, for what you have done!”

To the outside world, they had done nothing wrong. There tiny self, was afraid of everything around them, terrified of the smallest things, easily startled and forced into a panic that they would run away and make themselves, smaller and smaller, until they where nothing more than the mere size of a common rat and would go into hiding, calling upon them, to slaughter everything in the area, that could have scared them. The shit thing was, this might not even be, the result of the fear, a matter of, wrong place, wrong time, wrong fucking emotion to deal with, as he did not make deals, bargains or want to waste time with anything.

“You where going to kill us! Do not try and deny it, liar! Your fate is sealed, die with some respect for yourself, as worthless as you are!”

As he did not make the move, as he just held his ground. Humans, always managed to try and find a way to deny there fate, they did not deserve anything! They had tried to kill them centuries ago, for crimes and actions taken by others. There fucking hands where clean, not a drop of blood on them, they had never done anything wrong, but they had tried to kill them! Everyone who tried to hurt them, blame them, scare them, they all needed to fucking die!

“A coward that runs from battle! You are fucking worthless! You are not worth my time! But you have to die, it is the only way, to make him happy again, to stop him being afraid! Just accept your end!”

#fallesto #⋇ THE PERMANENT ORGANIZATION OF WHISPERING PRAYERS: KIMETSU NO YAIBA #season 3 antagonists gonna b lyric seeing how many times they can avoid death in a row

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writeyouin · 4 years ago

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Whirl X Reader – My Human - (COMMISSION)

Commission Request – IDW Whirl X Reader. A relationship that turns from Rocky to Love based off the Human Crewmate story. And some smut at the end please.

Word Count – 1884

A/N – Hey, @cyansadgirl I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for. Thank you so much for commissioning me. Happy holidays.

RATING – M

WARNINGS – NSFW/SMUT

You stood patiently outside Whirl’s hab-suite, playing a game on your communicator whilst ignoring the crashes and roars from inside. Ultra Magnus had just informed Whirl that you were to be his new roommate, and Whirl was not taking it well.

It had actually been Rung’s idea, and he had held a meeting with you, requesting that you be Whirl’s first room-mate aboard the Lost Light. You, as the only human, would benefit from the company, and Whirl in turn would hopefully learn to control his temper with someone so delicate living with him.

Nobody really knew if it was a good idea but you had agreed all the same and now all that was left to do was wait until Whirl had calmed down long enough for you to move in. Finally, Ultra Magnus stepped out, looking as grim as ever. He gave you a curt nod and left without another word, hoping that he wouldn’t have to come and correct Whirl’s behaviour again later.

Picking up your bag with the very few possessions you had, you headed into Whirl’s room, noticing that the area that you were supposed to inhabit had been thoroughly destroyed.

Whirl glared at you, “DON’T THINK YOU’RE STAYING HERE FLESH-BAG. ALL YOUR KIND ARE FRAGGERS.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You sympathised. “I hope you’ll find that I’m not like that.”

You walked to your destroyed corner, fishing out a torn blanket and a pillow that had somehow survived.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT OR I’LL THROW YOU OUT. YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND UP TO WHIRL? I’M THE TOUGHEST BOT ON THIS FLYING SCRAP-HEAP. I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Yes, I have no doubt to your strength,” You replied calmly, trying to hide your fear at his words; Rung wouldn’t have suggested this if he thought you would get hurt. “But I was thinking maybe you could give me a chance?”

Whirl narrowed his optic, glaring as you pulled the destroyed furniture towards the door, never once asking for help. He considered throwing you out, but Ultra Magnus had already given you the lock-code, so there would be little point unless he barricaded the door.

“Hah, good luck recharging,” Whirl spat spitefully. “I wrecked that stupid bed of yours.”

“I’ll manage fine with what I’ve got.”

Whirl wondered why you were even bothering. It was already clear that he was going to make your life hell but there you were, stubborn as ever. Well then, he would make a delightful little game of it; if he was going to torture you, he might as well enjoy it.

Whirl glowered on his side of the room. He shouldn’t have to be stuck with you, it was all Ring’s fault for even suggesting you move in with him, and those two dumb captains who were clearly too weak to say no to the eyebrowed freak.

No matter how much Whirl destroyed your stuff or how many insults he threw at you, nothing would get rid of you. You always reacted the same way, with a comment on how you hoped things would change and with that loathsome sympathetic smile that made his spark flutter; HE DIDN’T WANT YOUR SYMPATHY, DAMN IT!

Well, he could outlast you no problem, and he would make sure that he was victorious. Whirl looked for every opportunity to break you mentally, knowing that it would be far too easy to damage you physically; he told himself that there would be no challenge in that and that it wouldn’t do him any good anyway. How could he gloat if you were dead?

It was on a day when you were high up on a custom-made window seat that Whirl finally went too far. He’d had an extremely bad day with some arrogant fragger in “Visage’s” and worst of all, he’d had his aft handed to him in front of everybody. It was rare that Whirl was beat in combat, but he had been a little too overcharged to fight off that other mech, and then he had to return to his hab-suite with a bruised ego. Sure enough, you were there, gazing out at the stars and distant planets with a drink in hand; why did you always have to be there?

“Get the frag outta here,” Whirl slurred angrily.

“Whirl,” You gazed at him with sad eyes, “Did something happen? You look ups-”

You gasped as Whirl punched your window seat. He’d only meant to shake you up, or make you trip over. He’d never intended to hurt you, yet as you fell, you instinctively pushed out your hands to protect yourself and instead, your hand crushed your glass. You cried out in pain, glass embedded in your hand.

“Oh frag!” Whirl exclaimed, “WHAT DO I DO?”

He wanted to grab you and rush to med-bay, but he was afraid of hurting you further, so he called First-Aid to come to him instead. Whirl waited outside while you received stitches on your hand. He felt sick, and the common feeling of self-loathing began to consume him, as it usually did when he had regrets. Why was he such a piece of scrap? You hadn’t done anything to hurt him, not that you could. You were actually the nicest person he’d ever met. Why did he always have to destroy everything good in his life? It wasn’t your fault that you were roommates, it was Reng’s and yet there you were, paying the price. Whirl sat down on the floor, pulled his legs into his arms, and waited for the inevitable moment where you would move out and leave him alone once again.

Much to Whirl’s surprise, you didn’t hate him for the pain he’d caused you. In fact, your first concern was to ask him if he was okay. Whirl scoffed and told you not to be so stupid, but he lacked his usual bite. All he wanted to do was make things right, and since you had evidently decided to stay, he supposed he would get that chance.

His optic lingered on your bandaged hand as he made a gruff apology, unable to meet your eyes. Once you accepted his apology, Whirl felt a weight lift off his chassis. He knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he would do everything he could to make it up to you.

From that day on, Whirl made a constant effort to talk to you, even in public, though he acted much tougher when there were others around, only dropping his guard when you were alone. He answered your questions about his life, even when the truth hurt, and slowly but surely, he found himself lowering his defences.

Most of the time, Whirl found that he had come to enjoy your company. He taught you all he knew about making clocks, even though you were completely awful at it. Whirl was glad that he didn’t have a mouth you could see him smiling with; it was just too damn funny when you got your tiny hands stuck in the springs.

It was one night while you were asleep, and Whirl wide awake that he looked over at you, his spark racing. True, you were no Cybertronian but maybe that was a good thing. After all, look at the damage that Cybertronians had knowingly caused, not only against each-other, but towards other innocent planets too. You would never hurt anyone. You were far too kind to. You were sweet, patient, sympathetic, sensitive, and Whirl was in love with you.

His claw rested despondently against his helm. The simple fact of the matter was that Whirl wasn’t good enough for you. He had already hurt you once. What was to stop him from doing so again? Was it selfish to keep you in his life whilst harbouring such feelings? He didn’t believe so; however self-destructive it would be to him, it wouldn’t affect you, so long as he never told you how he felt.

So, Whirl suffered in silence, his spark aching for what he couldn’t have, until the fateful day that you confessed your own blossoming feelings to him.

Whirl couldn’t believe his audials. He stared at you in a stunned silence, struggling to find his voice.

“You… what?” He choked out.

“I love you,” You said calmly, saddened by the knowledge that he probably didn’t feel the same; interspecies love was usually one-sided.

“You- No. Uh-uh. That’s scrap,” he shook his head disbelievingly.

“I know… You don’t have to feel the same back. I just thought it was better to tell you, in case things changed between us. You… You don’t have to keep me as your roommate if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if-”

“NO! YOU DON’T GET IT. I’M WHIRL. I WAS A WRECKER. I WAS NEVER MADE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP. IF YOU’VE EVER THOUGHT OF ME THAT WAY, THEN YOU’RE EVEN MORE DYSFUNCTIONAL THAN I AM. WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU WOULD EVEN CONSIDER A MONSTER LIKE ME?”

Whirl abruptly ended his rant at the sight of tears in your eyes; once again, without even trying to, he had hurt you.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” You apologised, leaving Whirl feeling worse than ever when he felt that it should have been him saying sorry.

“I LIKE YOU TOO,” Whirl exploded, lacking eloquence as usual. “I’m no good at this stuff but… we could try talking about this, I guess.”

You cried out Whirl’s name, panting heavily as he thrust into you, working off months of pent up sexual frustration.

For once, Whirl was eerily quiet, his processor overloaded by how tiny, soft, and different you were. He had planned to be gentle with you but seeing you naked beneath him with your cheeks flushed and your head lolling proved to be too much for him. Every time you called out his name, he was reminded just how lucky he was; he couldn’t remember ever being loved, and yet here you were proving that he was worth your affections.

His spike pushed between the wetness of your legs, repeatedly hitting your G-Spot, edging you ever closer to your climax. Your every nerve seemed to tingle, alight with passion. All too soon, you felt yourself clamping around Whirl’s spike.

“Oh God- God- It’s- AH~” You keened as Whirl continued through your climax, completely aroused by your orgasm.

After four more orgasms on your behalf, Whirl finally felt the onset of his own.

“(Y/N), THIS- IS FOR YOU!” He cried out through the static in his vocaliser.

His overload finally hit, filling you up with his transfluid that dripped down your soaked pussy.

Once the two of you had come down from your highs, Whirl swaddled you in a blanket, hooking his arm around you and clutching you into his side.

“This is nice,” You yawned, snuggling into his heat.

“Yeah,” Whirl agreed, having never felt something so intimate. “It really is.”

With that, you both fell into a peaceful silence, safe in each other’s embrace. As you drifted off to sleep, Whirl wondered if he was right to have hopes of a successful relationship. He knew he would talk to Cyclonus about it as soon as he could, but that was a problem for later.

Like my work? Buy me a coffee and earn preview of the next fic, or commission me on the commissions page.

#whirl #whirl x reader #whirl x fem-reader #idw #tf #transformers #maccadam #the lost light #ll #ultra magnus #commission #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #mtmte #more than meets the eye #my human

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is-it-madness · 4 years ago

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Pastries and Pain

A/N: This is for @fanfictionaries Classic Tropes Writing Challenge. Congrats on the 300 darling!!! 🥳🎉🥳 The prompt I chose was Fake Dating!AU with the charming Loki. And thank you to my darling beta @wowjeena I LOVE YOU 💜💜💜

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: Mentions of abusive relationship, abuse, sexual innuendos

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: Nat and Wanda keep setting you up for dates. You need to figure out how to avoid them.

~~~

“You did what?!” You glare angrily at Natasha and Wanda.

They don’t even bother hiding their looks of amusement.

“We set you up on a blind date,” Nat tells you with a smirk.

“You said you wouldn’t do that anymore!” Last year, after they discovered you hadn't been on a date since you broke up with your abusive ex a few years ago, they felt obligated to find you a suitable boyfriend. Blind date after blind date. The dates were all just okay. Nat and Wanda made sure not to let you go out with anyone creepy, which helped, but none of the dates sparked your interest. After a few weeks of repeated fails, you asked—no begged them to stop. They only agreed when you swore you would find your own partner.

“Honey,” Nat begins, “did you ever end up finding a date for yourself?”

You glare at her in response.

“You promised us you would! You didn’t and it’s been months,” Wanda scolds you.

“I’m just too busy to be emotionally invested in someone right now, okay?” At least that was true. What with helping out on missions and working in the lab, you were always exhausted by the end of the day. You never saw anyone anymore, besides your team, and sometimes you would even go days without seeing them. You would be holed up in the lab or out in the field—you just didn’t have time to throw your emotions into the mix.

“Well not tonight,” Nat says triumphantly.

“Tonight?!” you squeak.

They both give you a wicked smile and drag you back to Nat’s room to get you ready for the evening.

You argue with your so-called friends about the date. You plead with them.

“I’ll find my own date, you guys! Just please don’t make me do this!”

Wanda laughs and shakes her head while Nat reprimands you.

“Are you seriously gonna stand him up? That is so not like you.”

You sigh. Nat is right. Of course. So you begrudgingly slip into the soft, dark green dress they laid out for you. The halter neck and deep V decolletage lead to the cinched waist showcasing your figure and the skirt reaching just above your knees. You put on some light makeup and pull your hair back into two cute buns with a few pieces framing your face. Nat and Wanda sit fussing over you, before they finally let you out of the room.

They walk you past the living room to the elevator, but you stop in your tracks when Tony calls your name. You turn to see the rest of the team lounging around. This is the first Friday in weeks where everyone’s at the Tower, not having to rush off to missions or save the world.

“Where are you guys going?” Tony asks. He gives you a double-take. “What’s with the dress?”

When he asks that, the rest of the team turns to look at you. You immediately feel the heat rising to your face.

“Nat and Wanda thought it would be a good idea if I went out for a bit,” you mumble.

“Did you two set her up for another date?” Steve questions them knowingly.

Nat smirks and Wanda nods happily.

“Well, you look wonderful,” Thor beams at you and you return the smile. “Would you not say so, brother?”

The God of Mischief sitting next to Thor gave you a once over.

He gives a single shoulder shrug and says, “Unsightly.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Oh, thank goodness! I was worried you were going to say I look as grotesque as you.”

“Alright boys, you can give your fashion critique later,” Nat says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “We have a date to get to.”

~~~

His name is Michael. He was very sweet, albeit nervous when the two of you sat down for dinner. You learn he works in the IT department for Stark Industries, he runs a hand through his short, brown hair when he’s nervous, and his deep blue eyes sparkle when he tells you about his interests.

“So, you’re part of the Avengers, right?” he asks, carding a hand through his locks.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you tell him with a laugh.

“What made you decide to start dating again?”

You shake your head in amusement. “My friends are very convincing.”

The rest of the night goes along smoothly with the conversation stuttering only a few times.

When he walks you to your car, he runs a hand through his hair before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He tells you good night and hurries back to his car.

You sigh, slightly exasperated, before sliding into your car.

~~~

“So, how’d it go?”

You release your hair from its hold and it cascades around you. “It wasn’t bad. He was nice.”

Nat smiles. “So are you gonna see him again?”

You contemplate her question. Were you going to see him again? Sure he was nice and not bad looking, but just like all your previously failed dates, there was… nothing. You didn’t feel a connection when you spoke, the both of you kept the conversation basic. You didn’t feel a spark when he kissed you. It was no different than the friendly kisses Thor would give you as greetings.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m sorry, Nat.”

“Don’t worry about it, babe. Wanda and I will just keep looking for you.”

“It’s okay, Nat. You really don’t have to do this.”

She waves you off. “What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t help you?”

“That’s just it, Nat! You don’t have to help me. It’s not a big deal.”

But she isn’t listening.

~~~

A week goes by and so do five other dates. You had to cut the last one short because you were just too exhausted. You couldn’t keep doing this. It was too much. But you knew Nat and Wanda were relentless. Nothing would make them stop until you had a boyfriend.

You pace around your room, coming up with excuse after excuse to try to skip the impending date they have planned for you. You come to the conclusion that the only way they would leave you alone is if you were in a relationship. You abruptly stop pacing. Maybe if you had someone fill the position. Maybe… maybe someone could pretend to be your boyfriend—at least for a short time. Just to get the girls off your back. You start formulating a plan. But for this plan to work, you needed someone cunning, someone who could keep a secret, someone who was stealthy, and preferably, someone already on the team.

A name comes to you and you immediately head to the library with a smirk on your face, but the whole time your mind is screaming that THIS IS A BAD IDEA!!!

You find the God in his usual seat, his legs spread wide, and a book in hand. He sits in the far corner of the library, which also happened to be your spot too.

“Loki! I need you.”

He smirks and looks up from his book, “In your bed or mine?”

“I don’t have time for your smart mouth right now! This is serious!”

He quirks a brow.

“I need you to go on a ‘date’ with me,” you say, putting up air quotes.

He stares at you for a good thirty seconds before he gives you an eloquent response.

“What?”

You feel yourself turn bright pink. “Please, Loki! I can’t take Nat and Wanda setting me up on blind dates anymore, it’s just too much. Please? If I find my own date, they’ll leave me alone,” you explain to him, internally begging him to agree to your plan.

“I’m not sure I follow,” he tells you slowly. “You wish for me to court you, but not as a real courtship?”

You nod hastily. “Exactly.”

He squints at you. “No.”

You’re shocked. “What? Why not?”

He smirks at you. “Firstly, your team will not take lightly to the matter of us courting. Secondly, there is not a chance they would believe you have fallen for me, even with my good looks and charm,” he continues to tick off. “Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, how long would you allow this to drag out? One week? A month? A year? So no, I do not think I wish to partake in your foolish endeavor.”

“But you wouldn’t need to worry about any of that!” You continue adamantly. “I’ve already thought it out!”

He gives you an amused look. “Alright, I’ll listen to your hairbrained scheme.”

You glower at him. Maybe you should’ve picked someone else for this, but it’s too late now. He already knows what you’re planning.

“One, I won’t tell the team who I’m seeing, we can just meet up somewhere outside the building. And if I act like I’m in love with someone, and we stay… y’know, mean to each other, they won’t get suspicious. Your second point is irrelevant, because they won’t know it’s you that I’m ‘dating.’” His nostrils flare and his jaw ticks but you plow ahead. “And lastly, we won’t have to keep this charade up for long. I’ll just say you ‘broke up with me’ and I’ll be too ‘heartbroken’ to consider dating for a while.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply. “Out of the goodness of my own heart, and the desire to only create mischief… fine.”

Your eyes widen, “You’ll do it?”

“I suppose I have nothing more exciting to attend to. And besides,” he looks up to give you a smirk. “I am eager to see this come crashing down around you.”

~~~

“I was thinking for your next date, you should go to the park,” Nat tells you a few days later.

You smile at her. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

She glares at you. “You’re not getting out of this. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m going to keep finding you dates until we find the right one.”

You shake your head and laugh. “It’s not necessary because I found my own date.”

Her spoon falls with a clatter into her bowl of cereal. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say you found your own date?!”

“I don’t understand why that’s so unbelievable, Nat.” You place a hand on your heart. “I’m hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she apologizes with a laugh, but her eyes sparkle with glee. “So what’s his name?”

“It’s a secret.”

“What?! You can’t not tell me!”

“Well, this is our first date. So what’s the point of putting a name to a face if I’m not sure if this’ll work out?”

“Okay fine,” she pauses. “Well, where’d you two meet?”

“Oh, you know,” you say with a small smile and a shrug. “Around.”

She folds her arms. “I need info so I can run tests on him,” she chides. “Need to make sure he’s not a threat.”

“Don’t worry, he’s no threat.”

She sighs and throws her hands in the air. “Fine, I get it. You don’t want to talk about him yet. But if anything sketchy happens, you need to tell me immediately.”

“I promise.”

She takes her bowl to the sink and starts washing her dishes.

“And no stalking us!”

She sends you a smirk over her shoulder.

~~~

Early afternoon, the next day, you wait for Loki at a nearby cafe for your ‘date,’ but he’s nowhere to be seen. Sure, the two of you didn’t exactly get along, with his snark and your sarcasm, you would usually wage verbal wars against each other. But you didn’t think he would just leave you, he said he wanted to see your plan fail, so you thought for sure he would be waiting for you. Your smile falters a bit, but you shake your head. You don’t need him. You’ll just do this on your own. You decide to leave and head to the park instead, since it’s a pretty day out.

“Considering this was your plan, I did not assume you would leave without me,” you hear a silky voice behind you say.

You turn around to see Loki walking behind you with a smirk.

You huff. “For your information, I thought you left without me.”

“Why would I do that?”

You fold your arms. “Well, you weren’t down here. I figured you agreed to this just to make me look like a fool.”

His smirk only grows. “I would not do that, especially not when you are so desperate.”

“Are you sure you didn’t show up late just for kicks and giggles?”

“If you must know, since you’re so adamant on believing that I would just leave you, I went to purchase these for you.” He conjures a bouquet of flowers and hands them to you. You thank him sheepishly.

He nods. “I felt like it would seem strange if you returned home without a gift, as you usually returned carrying a gift from your possible suitors.”

“That’s... thoughtful of you.”

He gives you another curt nod.

“Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“So, what do you wanna do?” you ask him. “You’ve never had a chance to explore when you came back from Asgard, we could see whatever you want.”

“I could not care less where we venture to, as long as we hurry up. I have reading to get back to.”

You roll your eyes. Just when you thought he was starting to be friendly, he goes and says something like that.

“Well, if you really don’t want to be here, I'll just go on a walk on my own. You’ve done your part.” You gesture to the flowers. “And you gave me evidence, so I guess I’ll see you later.”

He stares at you, emotionless.

“Enjoy your book.” You clutch your flowers, trying to reel your emotions back in and start walking in the direction towards the park.

He catches up to you and releases an audible sigh. “I suppose I could spend some time out of that helhole. It has become rather monotonous. Perhaps you would be suitable entertainment.”

You just shrug, not trusting yourself to not retort back with a scathing comment.

“So, where are we headed?”

“Preferably somewhere I won’t have to pay attention to your existence,” you snap.

His green eyes flash dangerously and he grabs you by the arm, forcing you to face him. “Listen here, mortal,” he seethes. “It may have slipped your notice, but I have done not one, but two favors for you.”

Your cool demeanor snaps in a fiery explosion. “Oh really? Is the favor you being rude to me? Or is it the fact that you can’t find it in yourself to say one, just one, polite thing to me. Oh, I know! It’s probably your side remarks that you love to make, or the fact that you say the most hurtful things to me, because apparently, you seem to think I don’t have emotions. Have you ever considered the weight of your words, even once?!” Tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes, but you refuse to cry in front of him, you refuse to give him something else to hold against you. “Have you ever thought twice about calling me ugly, or useless, or slow, or weak. Well, guess what.”

He releases his hold on you and takes a step back.

“I get it, okay?! I get it! I’m ugly? Great! You’re not the first person to tell me that! I’m useless? People who were close to me, would tell me that constantly. That’s old news to me! I’m slow? At least I stay alive during our missions! I’m weak? Okay then! I don’t know what else to tell ya buddy! I’m sorry I’m no super soldier!” Your chest is heaving from your outburst and Loki opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “You know what?” You begin quietly. “I’m absolutely not as strong as the rest of the team, but I’ve been through stuff that’s made me a stronger person. I’ve learned things the hard way, and I’ve learned that I don’t need hurtful people like you in my life.”

Loki stares at you, mouth slightly agape. You spin around and toss the flowers in the trash. “Have fun reading.” You don’t look back as you continue to walk through the streets.

~~~

You return to the Tower later that evening. After your temper, you spend the most of the day in the park. You wander through the city and stumble upon a quaint little bookstore, sandwiched between a diner and a clothing store. You buy several books before heading home.

The elevator gets closer to the common floor and you take a deep breath. The elevator dings and you force a smile on your face.

“Hey beautiful!” Nat calls to you from the couch.

The entire team, sprawled around, looks up.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks you.

You internally breathe a sigh of relief. So Lo—so he didn’t blow your story. Good. The man in question was currently paying no attention to you.

“It was great!” you fib. “We went to the park, and we found a cute bookstore not far from here,” you say with a nod to the stack of books in your arms.

Wanda’s face splits into a grin. “Will you be seeing him again?” she asks eagerly.

You see Thor’s brother, in your peripheral vision, subtly turn to look at you, but you refuse to acknowledge him.

“Yeah I am! I’ll be going out for breakfast tomorrow, at the cafe. ”

“The one with the chocolate pastries?” Nat asks you.

“Yup. And no following me, Nat! I know what you’re thinking!”

She huffs and crosses her arms.

“Well, I’ve had a long day and I’m exhausted. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?”

The team bids you good night and you head down the hall to your room. You can feel the God of Mischief watching you.

~~~

Early the next morning you drag yourself out of bed and start getting ready. The reward? Pastries. You shower then hop, wiggle, and shimmie into some jeans and pull on a dark blue blouse before making your way to the elevator.

You make it outside without running into anyone. You walk a few blocks to the cafe with your favorite chocolate sweets. You discovered it a while back and later introduced it to the team. As soon as you step in, you inhale the heavenly goodness of coffee roasting, bread baking, and chocolate melting. The little old lady behind the counter recognizes you and prepares your order for you before you have a chance to say anything. You thank her and pay before you find a table in the corner of the store to sit at. You watch the world pass by through the large glass windows. It was still quiet out—or at least quiet for New York—and you close your eyes, relishing in the peace that was sorely lacking while you were in the Tower.

“You do realize it is rude to leave your date behind, yes?” Someone asks you.

You snap your eyes open to see the raven-haired god sitting across from you, the smirk as present as always.

You glare at him. “Why the hell are you here? I don’t recall inviting you.”

He conjures a dagger and splits your pastry in two. He takes a piece and sinks his teeth into it. His eyes flutter close, lashing splaying out across his sharp cheekbones and he moans slightly at the warm confection. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and your stomach flips. This is the first time you’ve heard him make such an obscene sound. You didn’t expect it to make you press your thighs together.

“On the contrary, you did invite me.” He pauses to open his eyes, only to be met with your flushed face. He gives you a smirk. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you scowl at him, quickly composing yourself. “And like I said, I don’t remember inviting you.”

“Oh dear, have you forgotten about your own scheme?”

“No, I haven’t,” you bristle. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be here.”

He chuckles. “Yes I do. I am fulfilling my promise I made you.”

“How gentlemanly of you,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “You made it quite clear you didn’t want to do this.”

He leans forward and folds his hands. “Listen, in light of recent events, I have taken into consideration our previous conversation. And although we do not have the, ah, best attitude towards one another, I agreed to assist you in your time of need. And I will see to it that your plan continues along accordingly.”

“Well, you’re wasting your time, ‘cause I don’t need you.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “At least allow me to attempt to be your faux suitor. To make up for my ghastly behavior towards you.”

You continue to glare at him with your arms crossed. You wait to see a glint of mischief in his emerald eyes, or the tell-tale sign of a smirk, but his face remains solemn.

You let out a sigh of defeat. You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep this guise up for long if you did it alone.

“Fine,” you agree reluctantly.

He sits up straight and snatches the second half of your pastry. “Excellent.”

“Hey!”

“What?” he asks innocently, already biting into your breakfast. “I am absolutely famished.”

You just grumble as he licks his fingers clean. Again, your stomach decides to flutter, without your permission.

“Hello, dear.” You look up to see the older lady has approached you and Loki. “Can I get anything else for you?”

You smile back at her. “No thank you.”

She gives a questioning look to Loki. “And who is this? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, young man.”

Loki flashes her a charming smile. “Greetings madame.” He stands, gently takes her hand and places a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“This... is my boyfriend,” you tell her through clenched teeth.

She turns to look at you. You detect the slightest tinge of pink to her cheeks.

“Well, you certainly are lucky to have such a gentleman.”

You barely restrain rolling your eyes, while Loki chuckles and gives a slight shake of his head.

“I hate to contradict madame, but it is I who is the lucky one.” He sits back down and takes your hands in his. He looks at you softly. You look back at him, confused.

“The first moment I set eyes on her, my heart nearly stopped. And her smile… her smile sent me straight to Valhalla. I never believed the Fates would allow me to meet someone so kind, so gentle, so beautiful. I am grateful to have the honor to call her my beloved. She means more to me than any riches imaginable.”

You blush as the old lady places a hand to her heart and sighs.

“He’s a keeper,” she tells you. “Much better than the last one. This one won’t lay a hand on you.”

You feel Loki staring hard at you, his grip on your hands tighten ever so slightly.

You stand abruptly, Loki still refusing to let go. “Well, we really should be going. We have a few plans today.”

“Yes, of course,” Loki says.

Both of you thank the old lady. You can’t get out of there fast enough.

The sunlight hits your face as you step outside, but you can’t help the shiver that courses through you. Your past hits you in flashes. Bruised and bloodied skin. Hands raised, only to be brought down against your body with rage. Long sleeves and concealer were a must if you went out. Nights spent huddled in bed, silently crying from pain.

You dimly realize someone is shaking you by your shoulders, calling your name.

You look up to see Loki watching you intently, his brow furrowed.

“What did she mean?” he asks you, his voice a deadly calm.

“It’s nothing,” you brush him off. “It’s not like you’d care anyways,” you mumble under your breath.

Whether he heard you or not, he didn’t show.

He gives you a hard stare for another second before dropping his hands.

“What would you like to do?”

“Huh?”

He sighs. “For our outing. Where would you wish to go?”

“Oh. Yeah, right. Um. Maybe we could go to the bookstore I found?”

“Done.” He holds out his arm for you and you tentatively slip your hand in. “Lead the way.”

A smile pulls at your lips and you tug him in the direction of the bookstore.

After you both buy several books, you spend the rest of your day taking Loki to your favorite spots around the city. You take him to a garden in Central Park and he tells you about his mother’s garden. He buys you ice cream because ‘I suppose you deserve it after I took your breakfast.’

~~~

The next few weeks, you and Loki alternate taking the other places. Loki takes you for lunch, you take him to the movies. He takes you to a museum and you take him to dinner. The two of you begin bonding and slowly the animosity begins to fade. After the second month, you realize that you actually like being in his company. You made each other laugh and were able to discuss things to great lengths that you couldn’t do with anyone else on the team. The two of you would always be careful, leaving the Tower separately, coming home separately. You both also agreed to continue your banter at home, lest anyone become suspicious. But there were days when Nat would have to snap you out of your daydreams—er thoughts, and she would give you a little smirk. She never asked what you were thinking about, but the pink staining your cheeks would give her the answer she needed.

The nights you spend tossing and turning in bed become more frequent.

I’ll tell him tomorrow.

Tomorrow’s the day.

I’ll end this tomorrow.

You kept postponing the termination of this… relationship you had with Loki. Sure it would’ve been easier to do after the first week you put your plan in motion, but that would have only spurred Nat further. You didn’t need that. So you simply kept putting it off and chose to ignore it as days became weeks. Surprisingly enough, you found a kindred spirit in Loki. He wasn’t as bad as you had originally believed. He made you laugh and think critically and roll your eyes at his dramatic flair and antics. You can’t help but feel as though you and Loki connected. You can’t help but feel as though you’re falling for him. With his sparkling eyes, mischievous smile, and surprisingly, his kind heart. It shocked you at first. You always saw him as Thor’s maniacal and evil younger brother. But now that you’ve spent more time with him, you discover that it was just a facade that he put up. He didn’t want people to get close to him, he knew what they thought of him, so that’s what he showed them. It broke your heart when you found out how hurt and abused he was. Just because he never told you outright, doesn’t mean you didn’t see it. You felt awful though, for only barely realizing this. You should have paid more attention to the way he sometimes flinched or the way his eyes would slightly widen with fear at the mention of fire, or when someone on the team would mention abuse.

If only he knew about your past relationship. You never brought it up after the slip in the bakery and Loki didn’t pry, which you were extremely grateful for. You weren’t sure you could discuss it, it was too harrowing and you wanted to leave your past there. In the past. But you should have known it would rear its ugly head one of these days.

~~~

You had promised Loki you’d take him back to the little slice of Valhalla that he so fondly nicknamed the bakery.

“Please!” he practically begs you as the two of you walk down the street, hand in hand. “How else do you expect me to survive in your company? I require payment!”

“Payment?!” you repeat incredulously. “Payment for what?”

He sighs dramatically. “For having to endure your nonsense.”

You laugh. “I should be the one getting paid for having to put up with you!”

He gives you a smirk. “Come now darling, you know you love me.”

Your heart gets caught in your throat at those words. You give Loki a shaky laugh, hoping he doesn’t realize how close to the truth he was.

“Fine,” you sigh exasperatedly. “We’re heading in that direction anyways.”

He gives you another smirk and your heart flutters again. You really need to get your emotions under control. You didn’t have it in you to deal with a heartbreak, it was obvious Loki hadn’t fallen for you.

“How about you wait out here, darling?” he asks when you two reach the bakery. “I’ll be just a few moments.”

You nod and he gives you a small smile before making his way inside.

You groan slightly and rub your temple. You are not supposed to be falling for him! This shouldn’t be happening. You need to get your emotions in check, otherwise… well, you didn’t want to think about what would happen if you didn’t.

You’re lost in thought when you hear your name being called. Before you have a chance to turn around, arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you into a hug from behind.

Your heart drops. You knew that voice, that hug that used to give you butterflies, but now made you nauseous. When he releases you, you hurriedly take a few steps away and turn to face your ex.

“Chase.”

“Hey, baby!” he said with a cheerful grin. “How ya been?”

“Fine,” you say, even though you’re feeling far from it.

His eyes rake over you, and you physically had to hold down your vomit. “Well, you look good, baby.”

“Please don't call me that.”

��Listen,” he says solemnly. “I’m sorry for everything that happened between us, but I miss you. I need you back. C’mon, baby. We can be together again, don’t you want that?” he places his hands on your waist, making you tense.

You try taking a steadying breath. “No, Chase. I already told you before. I don’t want to be with you.”

His grip on your waist tightens and bites into you, and he gives you a look you were all too familiar with.

“C’mon, babe,” he says, a slight growl in his voice. “I know you’re not stupid. You already broke my heart once. Don’t do this to me again.”

Tears begin to well up. “I-I already told you. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

He glares down at you and you feel yourself shaking despite the warm day.

“You really don’t have a choice, do you?” he grabs a hold of your wrist and yanks you, not hard enough to fall, but a reminder of what he was capable of doing.

“Chase, let me go!” you try to free yourself, but he yanks you again, making you stumble.

“Don’t make a scene,” he hisses. “I know we both remember how that turned out for you last time.”

You flinch. That day… that was one of the more violent days. He pulls you along with him.

“Chase stop!” you sob desperately.

That’s when he decides to backhand you. You fall to your knees, cheek stinging fiercely as hot tears stream down your face. A rough hand is placed on your shoulder, but it’s quickly pulled back. You cradle your head between your hands, trying to protect yourself. You hear Chase yelling behind you, which is soon replaced by moans, and then the sound of someone running unsteadily across the pavement.

A gentler hand is placed on your shoulder, but you can’t help but wince away. They retreat their hand and crouch in front of you. You hear a familiar, more soothing voice, calling your name softly. You release your grasp on your face and slowly look up. It was Loki. He was watching you with such sorrow and concern, his lips tight and his brows creasing.

“That’s what she meant, wasn’t it?” he asks quietly.

You nod minutely. He offers his hands out to you and you shakily take them. He helps you to your feet, his worried face never faltering. He pulls you into a tight embrace and that’s when you completely lose it. You fist his shirt as sobs wrack through you. He doesn’t say anything to you, he just lets you release your tears.

~~~

Loki walks you back to the Tower with a protective arm around your shoulder. Miraculously you don’t run into anyone. He leads you to your room. You don’t even think to question how he knows where your room is. The burning in your cheek receded, but there’s still an intense stinging.

“Wait here, darling,” Loki says, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

You sit on your bed, eyes downcast, as he heads to your bathroom. You hear the faucet running and then shut off as he returns and sits next to you. He places a finger under your chin, tilting your face up, making you look at him. He starts tending to your abused cheek, wiping it with a cool washcloth.

He growls. “That halfwit left marks on your face.”

You try for a watery smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

He stops his task to look in your eyes. “I swear this will be the last.” He looks down for a moment before looking at you again, his eyes holding something different. “I… I would never hurt you.”

He looks at you so softly you nearly start crying again. You’ve never had anyone look at you with such a heartfelt gaze; it takes your breath away.

He clears his throat. “Listen darling… I realize that your plan was to keep you from having to court anyone, but… I fear I have fallen for you.”

Your eyes widen at his confession and he quickly looks away.

“I understand if you do not feel the same… no one can love a monster.”

You take his face in your hands and force him to look at you.

“Do you mean it?” you whisper, not daring to believe it.

He stares at you long and hard. You nearly drop your hands because the silence is too overwhelming.

“I do.”

A smile splits across your face and you crash your lips to his, taking in the feel of his soft lips, his steady arms, his comforting scent of lavender and bergamot. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap, holding you close.

You pull away to rest your forehead against his. “Well I guess that’s a good thing because I’ve fallen for you, too.”

His eyes sparkle before pulling you into another, more passionate kiss.

~~~

Later that evening, during dinner, Nat and Tony nearly lose their minds at the bruise on your face.

“WHO THE HELL DID THAT?!”

“ARE THOSE FINGERPRINTS?!”

You tell them what happened. You explain what your ex did, which only caused the rest of the team to blow up too.

“It’s okay!” You reassure them. “My boyfriend took care of him.”

Your eyes flicker to Loki, and even though he’s paying close attention to his food, you don’t miss the slight smirk on his face.

That seems to calm them down.

“At least he seems like he’s a good guy,” Wanda says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he’s great,” you say with a small smile.

An idea occurs to you. You stand and walk around the table to Loki. You take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs across his jaw. He looks at you, mouth slightly open in shock, unsure of what was happening.

“He’s amazing,” you whisper, before capturing his lips with yours.

The team collectively blew up for the third time tonight.

~~~

Pastries and Pain Taglist: @what-just-happened-bro @bbarnestan

Main Taglist: @thehumanistsdiary @astheworlddturns

If you would like to be added to my taglist, shoot me an ask or message me!😊💜

#Pastries and Pain #Loki x reader #FanFictionariesClassicTropeChallenge #loki x you #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #fake dating #fake dating!au #loki fanfic #loki fic

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