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changbunnies · 8 months ago

Text

Coy (18+)

♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Bang Chan x Experienced Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot :)

♡ Word Count: 7.7k

♡ Summary: What occurs when joking about sex with your roommate leads to a shocking discovery about his lack of experience in the bedroom.

♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but you can infer vibes if you want lol, chan is rlly insecure but reader is here to help!!, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f rec), protected piv

♡ Notes: hey yall, i wanted to write something small and fun before my next big fic so here we are :’) honestly i was torn between writing this for chan or bin and ended up choosing chan but lmk if you'd want to see a fic like this for binnie! i went super perfectionist mode and rewrote this several times…. like at least 7 fsdgdsfg but i don't want it in my drafts anymore !! just take it !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

All you said was a lighthearted joke– something said in jest to make your roommate-turned-best friend’s face flush red and burn all the way to the tips of his ears.

That was always the reaction Chan had when you brought up having had sex, you noticed; cheeks flushed red, eyes darting away from yours to look anywhere else, thumbs nervously twiddling where his hands rested in his lap. You assumed he had plenty of experience, but was more of a “heat of the moment” kind of guy– where you imagined he’d be confident and sure of himself with his partner, but talking about sex outside of the moment turned him into a shy, stuttering mess.

And it’s not that you purposely went out of your way to imagine what Chan was like during sex, but your mind would often wander there on its own. He was attractive, to put it lightly– devoted to fine-tuning his muscles with diligently followed routines and strictly maintained effort. You were witness to his toned body on more than one occasion, as he often wandered around the apartment shirtless while having just woken up or doing his laundry.

It was a treat for the eyes for sure, but you were respectful. You never drooled over him– at least not anywhere but in the privacy of your bedroom. But it wasn’t just his body that you adored; he had the absolute cutest smile you’d ever seen, eyes crinkling into the prettiest crescent moons as dimples showed on his cheeks. You loved his fluffy, natural hair, and the deep brown color of his eyes, and the way warmth radiated off him when he pulled you into a hug.

So maybe you have a crush on him– but you aren’t going to act on it. You live together in a careful balance, in which you are close enough to him to become good friends while also hiding your attraction to him to maintain the peace. God forbid he doesn't return your attraction, or he does and down the line it makes things complicated. The last thing you need is to scramble for a new place to live after things between you don’t work out– you’d never be able to afford it, and you’ll gladly swallow your feelings for home security.

But just because you couldn’t have sex with Chan, didn’t mean you couldn’t talk about it with him.

Chan is shy– that much you knew for certain. And sex, while a natural and fun part of life, is something that some people are embarrassed to be open about despite the normality. That's what you saw Chan as; a shy, easily embarrassed person. You thought it was so cute, and just a teensy bit funny; and with all that in mind, it was fun to tease him– to watch his eyes widen in surprise before he let out an awkward cough and looked away, hoping to hide the red forming on his cheeks.

So today, after bringing up how your last date ended, and seeing how brightly Chan’s face burned when you talked about the way they touched you, you couldn’t help but joke around with him. “Oh, c’mon Channie, don’t be coy. I know you’re drowning in pussy when I’m not here,” you teased him with a smirk. Considering your crush on him, you didn’t like to think about it too hard, but you did believe it– surely he brings people back to the apartment while you’re out on your dates.

“O-Oh, no, I’m not– I don’t–” he started to stutter out, and you giggled, because really, how could you believe anything else? He’s perfect– intelligent, funny, talented, as adorable as he is devastatingly hot; obviously he can get whoever he wants, and you believe he does– because Chan is certainly a fucking catch. But still, he continues to stammer and shake his head, blush spreading down his neck as he refutes your statement.

He isn’t a virgin, you have that much right; but he also isn’t some smooth operator hitting hookups with the classic “my roommate isn’t home 👀” text like you seem to think. He doesn’t even know why you think he’s secretly so cool– he’s only ever shown you the most embarrassing version of himself, much to his own chagrin. He’d like to be the person you think he is, but that’s simply not reality.

And as your giggling comes to a stop, and you really look at Chan and take in his expression, you can tell– he's being serious. "Oh," you blink in surprise, smacked with the realization that all your assumptions about him may have been entirely off base.

You frown, wondering if you've actually been making him uncomfortable this entire time. It was always meant to be in good fun, as you thought his bashful reactions were incredibly cute and endearing; but now you realize the truth. Chan isn’t shy about sex because he’s a private person– he’s shy about sex because he isn't having any.

Suddenly, you feel really embarrassed about all the times you talked about yourself; maybe it's karma for all the times you've subtly teased him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or crossed a line or anything, I didn't mean to, really–" You start to apologize, but Chan interjects, quickly shaking his head.

"N-No, no, you're fine! I just, uh–" he nervously stumbles on his words again, not even sure what he’s doing at this point. He doesn't even know why he refuted your joke so strongly– sure, it wasn’t true, but wouldn’t it be better for him if you believed it?

Chan likes you– like, really likes you; but he can't imagine someone as experienced and confident as you will go for a guy like him. Because while he isn't a virgin, his past experiences have been woefully cringe-inducing to even recall.

He was always so eager and clumsy, with trembling hands and face so red he was sure he looked like a tomato. He was embarrassingly sensitive, every touch feeling so overwhelmingly good that he could hardly contain all the noises threatening to leave his throat. He came so fast that he didn’t even know what to do with himself when it was all said and done, hiding his face beneath his arm while he muttered a string of low apologies.

And subjecting you to all of that? No thanks, falling off the face of the earth would be more preferable. You're the most sex positive person he's ever met, and you won’t make fun of him, he logically knows, but there’s part of him that fears it anyways. On top of that, apparently you had an extremely positive perception of his skills, and now he's ruined it.

While he's unsure what about him led you to believe he's desirable enough to have people biting at the chance to be with him, that impression, for better or worse, will never come back. So should he just be honest? Admit that he's actually really down bad for you but nowhere near confident enough to think he's enough for you?

That sounds like a bad idea. Terrible, even. Chan swallows as he looks at you, doing his best to ignore the way anxiety builds from deep in his gut. You're looking at him so patiently, caringly, that it makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Fuck it– he doesn't have to be completely honest and bear his heart on his sleeve, but he can trust you enough to admit a little bit of what he feels, right? If he can't confide in you then who else can he confide in?

"I just, uhm, I'm not very confident, I guess," he says after a careful breath, nervously scratching at the back of his neck as he darts his eyes away, "like.. in myself, or.. my skills, you know. So I just, uh.. don't have sex." You don't respond right away, simply blinking as you process the information, and regret starts to flood over the anxiety as Chan begins to overthink everything he’s admitted to you.

Really, you’re just shocked; Chan is sexy– like, really sexy. So the revelation that he isn’t confident in himself enough to enjoy sex to its fullest extent is baffling. He has such effortless charisma in other aspects of his life despite his shy nature, and you always assumed it carried over into his sex life; where his bashful looks and timid grins would melt away into someone confident and assured once the moment kicked off.

“I could help you,” you finally offer once the initial surprise wears off, and instantly his brain is short circuiting, not even realizing that his astounded “huh?” left him audibly. You didn't really plan on confessing your attraction to Chan this way, if ever, but well.. here you are.

"It's just– you're like, the hottest person I know. Seriously. And I don't care if you lack experience, I'd have sex with you regardless," you explain, a rare blush of your own beginning to heat your face, "So, yeah, you know– if you want me like I want you, then.." You start to trail off, but you think he gets what you were intending to say.

It's a bit embarrassing to be blushing yourself considering all the casual sex you have, but it's not your fault– Chan is the only person you've caught feelings for in years, so you can't help but blush a little. Chan, meanwhile, is still stunned; you're attracted to him? You want to have sex with him? Really?

On one hand, it's exciting– you want him, he wants you, and you don't care that he's inexperienced. But still, on the other hand.. With all the experience you have, don’t you want to sleep with someone who matches your energy? He can't imagine that you'd enjoy watching him fumble his way through your time together, or that he’d bring you any pleasure with his lackluster skills.

And what would your relationship be afterwards? Just friends and roommates who happened to fuck once, or something more? Will the mutual attraction die off the moment you realize his insecurities are way more than you signed on for?

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you assure him, offering all the time he may need to think about your proposition. Maybe it won’t be the most casual of your experiences considering your massive crush on him, but how could you pass up the chance to help him? Especially when helping means having sex with the guy of your dreams– because really, that’s what Chan is.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, swallows the lump in his throat, and takes a breath– because despite all his fears, he really likes you, and of course he wants to fuck you. Chan always figured he’d never have a chance with you unless you experienced a huge lapse in judgment; and maybe this is one and done, maybe it doesn't mean as much for you as it does for him, but he’ll still take that chance, insecurities be damned; he’d be a fool not to.

“I want to,” he tells you, soft and timid, but certain. You smile, equally as soft, as you inch closer to him on the sofa. “Can I kiss you?” you ask him, giggling when he quickly nods. It’s cute– equally as cute as the small, involuntary noise he makes from the back of his throat when your lips touch his. You start slow, pressing long, lingering kisses to his plush lips– as soft as you always imagined.

His breath hitches when you crawl onto his lap, pulling away to look at you with widened eyes. “Too much?” you ask, ready to pull yourself off of him but he quickly shakes his head. “You’re just–” he pauses, licks his lips as his face flushes a deeper pink, but continues “..so pretty. Really pretty. Can't believe this is really happening."

It feels a bit silly being so shy to tell you how pretty you are to him when you’ve been kissing him and are quite literally sitting on top of his dick, but he can’t help the way you make him feel. It’s a simple compliment too, one that normally wouldn’t affect you very much, but makes your heart pick up ever so slightly in speed regardless; you suppose because Chan is the one saying it.

You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him again, keeping them clenched and firmly stuck to his side. You take them in your hands, guiding them to your body and resting them on your hips. “Touch me, Channie,” you breathe against his lips, “anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere..?” he questions with a shaky exhale, hands trembling where they rest on your body. “Mhm, want to feel you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he already feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest before he’s even really begun. But he listens, hands carefully traveling up and down your body as you lean back in to continue kissing him.

You let your own hands wander as well– over his arms, across his chest, down the toned abs you can distinctly feel even beneath his sweater. You lick his bottom lip, feeling his body shiver beneath the tips of your fingers as he opens his mouth for you, letting your tongue inside.

He brings his hands to your chest, palming your breasts before he carefully squeezes them. You bring one of your hands to hover over his, encouraging him to continue by squeezing your hand atop his. He’s only touching you over your clothes, but he already feels impossibly dizzy from the excitement– he can’t even focus on how pathetic that would normally make him feel either, because your tongue in his mouth fogs his brain.

The next time you pull away, it’s to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head so swiftly that Chan barely even has time to process what he’s about to see. He sucks in a breath as he looks at your tits; it doesn’t even matter that they’re still contained by a bra– it’s still more than enough to send him reeling. Pretty, pretty, pretty, is all he can think, his mind unable to conjure a thought any more complex than simple words.

You move your hands behind your back, ready to unhook your bra and expose yourself to him entirely, but he briefly stops you. “Can I– Can I try..?” he asks, clearly nervous but eager to try and prove himself in whatever way you’ll let him. “Course, Channie,” you smile at him as you let your arms fall back to your side, “go ahead.” You lean closer to him, bringing your hands to his shoulders as he brings his own to your back.

You press kisses to his jaw as you wait for him to act, eventually trailing down to his neck. It makes him gasp and bite his lip, the skin of his neck evidently more sensitive than he ever even realized. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying his best not to get too distracted by the feeling of your lips on the sensitive spots of his neck before he continues.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra, his trembling hands causing his grip to slip more than once. It’s embarrassing how badly he’s failing at this simple task, but you pay no mind to it, continuing to kiss him as he takes his time to figure it out. You caress his arms, pulling away to reassure him when his shaking fingers mess up for the third time.

“Relax, baby, you’ve got it,” you tell him, the affectionate term unintentionally slipping out– but Chan seems to welcome it, offering you a soft smile and nod as he timidly tries again. He lets out the breath he was unconsciously holding when he finally succeeds, watching attentively as you bring your hands to the now loose straps, sliding them down your arms.

You toss your bra aside when your arms are freed from the straps, and Chan can’t help but stare at your now bare chest. He can count on a single hand the amount of tits he’s seen, so his thoughts may be a bit biased in your favor, but he firmly believes yours are the prettiest he’s ever looked at. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks to you for permission to touch them again, which you easily grant him.

The soft noise you let out when his thumbs brush over your nipples both surprises him and makes his cock throb; he can still hardly even believe you’re really letting him touch you. “Is that good?” he asks as he does it again, intoxicated by the way you whimper and squirm. “Mhm, feels good. Feels better when they’re wet, though,” you tell him, watching as the gears turn in his brain.

He licks his lips and leans down, bringing his face to your chest. He sticks out his tongue, slowly swiping it against one of your hardened nipples, eyes glued to your face as he does. “This what you want?” he asks, repeating the action when you gasp and nod. You thread your fingers through his hair, another whimper leaving you as he wraps his lips around your nipple and swirls his tongue around it.

You reach for his other hand and bring his fingers to your mouth, licking and coating them in your saliva. He whines at the feeling of your tongue sliding against his fingers, his imagination running wild with images of what it’d feel like on different parts of his body. Once satisfied with the wetness of his fingers, you take them from your mouth and bring them back down to the nipple currently not in his mouth. “Use them to touch me, please–”

Chan wastes no time in doing what you ask, a soft whine escaping him when you gently tug on his hair. His cock is painfully hard and straining against his jeans that are now uncomfortably tight around him. You can feel it pressing against your ass, his eyes fluttering shut when his treatment of your nipples cause you to squirm and rub against his erection. The friction is overwhelming, your noises are intoxicating, the combination makes him dizzy with need for more.

More of your touch on his skin, more of your pretty whimpers in his ear, more of anything and everything you’re willing to give him, he wants it all. Soon you’re reaching for the hem of Chan’s sweater, and he separates from you, allowing you to pull it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You admire him, trace his pecs and his abs with your fingers, smiling at him sweetly when he shivers beneath your touch.

“You’re so handsome, Channie,” you tell him as you continue to run your fingers along his torso, “so hot, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.” He whines and turns his face away, a vain attempt to hide the heat that rises to it. “That’s– I-I.. didn’t know..” he mumbles shyly, hesitant to meet your gaze again– mostly because he thinks his heart will burst if he looks at you while you’re saying things like that to him.

He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to look at you without going red in the face after this, or how he’s going to be able to hear your voice again without his cock getting hard. Better yet, how is he going to look at you without thinking about how bad he wants you to be his, or for him to be yours? Either way, that’s a problem for the future– because your hands and lips are all over him, and that’s what he wants to focus on now.

Chan sucks in a breath when your hand brushes his erection over his jeans, bites his lip when you start to undo the button, lets out a shaky exhale as you begin to pull down the zipper. He’s not sure what you’ll think of his length, but he hopes you like it, prays that it’s enough to satisfy you. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Channie,” is the first thing you say as you take it in your hand, “you’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“W-What? No way, that’s– you’re just saying that,” he pouts, the blush covering his face and ears becoming unbearably hot. You can’t mean that– he almost refuses to believe it; because he simply can’t comprehend that you would prefer him to anyone else. “I’m not, baby. I mean it,” you tell him, and the way he throbs in your hand gives away that he likes the compliment, even if he doesn’t entirely believe it’s true.

You really are being honest; it’s not the longest you’ve ever had, but it’s among the thickest, with pretty veins that accentuate it. You want to trace them– with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, everything. And then there’s the way his pre-cum leaks from the tip, steadily dripping and pooling where it falls-–all you can say is that it’s mouth-watering. The look in your eyes makes Chan feel impossibly shy, and it takes everything within him not to cover his face when your eyes meet again.

He never imagined that look would be for him; that he would ever be deserving of your touch and affectionate words. And the sweet smile you offer him when you start to earnestly stroke his cock– he’s done for, absolutely done for. He’ll never be able to hide how bad he wants you after this– maybe he should listen to you and gain some confidence, ask you to be his before someone else steals you away.

Chan quickly loses his ability to form coherent thought once you start picking up your pace however, your hand having quickly become slick from his pre-cum. His head falls back against the sofa, breaths growing more and more labored with each stroke of your soft, warm, wet hand. You can feel his thighs twitch beneath you, and the way his hips jolt up to try to seek further friction from your hand, though your weight atop his legs prevents him doing so.

“Want you in my mouth,” you tell him, pleased with the way the words make him gasp and squirm, “You want that, Channie? Will you let me suck you off?” Fuck, do you even have to ask? As if there is any reality in which he would ever say no; you can have him, all of him, he doesn’t care as long as it’s you– he’ll never deny you any part of him. “Yeah, yeah, want that, please,” he breathes, an almost shameless plea for you to do whatever you want with him.

You offer him a pretty smile, placing a quick but affectionate kiss to his lips before you remove yourself from his lap. Sinking to your knees, you pull Chan’s jeans and boxers down his legs and to his ankles, and wait for him to step out of them and spread his legs wide enough for you to fit between them. There’s an apprehensive look in his eye when you scoot closer to him, and you pause, looking up at him with concern. “Are you nervous?” you ask, ready to stop at a moment’s notice if he needs you to.

“Ah, yeah, sorry, I just–” he pauses, an awkward, nervous laugh leaving him as he averts his gaze away from yours, “I just.. ‘m worried I’m gonna cum too fast when you.. Uh, yeah, you know.” He feels a bit pathetic admitting it, and he keeps his eyes locked on a random corner of the room, still holding onto the irrational fear that you’ll judge or laugh at him. Of course, you do neither– you simply lean forward on your knees, reaching a hand up to touch his face and bring his eyes back to yours.

“Don’t worry about that, I won’t mind if you cum fast, okay? It won’t bother me, and I won’t be mad. Just enjoy yourself,” you tell him earnestly, smiling sweetly at him when he slowly nods. You want to show him that you’re more than happy to take care of him until he gets the confidence in himself he needs, that there’s no shame in feeling so good that he can’t help but let go, that you’ll want him regardless.

You settle back on your knees, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs until you feel like his nerves have settled. He nods to you when he’s ready, and you give him one last smile before you bring your face directly to his waiting cock. The kisses you place to the tip are already enough to have him gasping and squirming in his seat– soft, delicate, and wet. Your fingers hold him at the base, keeping it held in place even as it twitches in response to every kiss you leave behind.

You stick out your tongue, let spit dribble down and further wet his leaking tip, and it’s positively the most erotic thing Chan has ever witnessed; he has to cover his face to stop himself from losing his mind. Head fallen back against the sofa with his arm thrown over his face, he gasps once more when he feels your tongue press against his skin. You lick slowly– whether to savor the taste or prolong the moment, Chan is unsure, but he welcomes it either way.

He can’t suppress the throaty groan that leaves him when you drag your tongue across the entirety of his length, tracing the veins with it just as you wished to. “O-Oh my god, baby–” he gasps when you finally start to take his cock into your mouth, too far gone to realize that he too let the pet name slip out. You don’t seem to mind, at least; after all, despite this “casual” encounter, you’ve already done the same, and been more affectionate than he ever anticipated.

Chan wants to believe you’re affectionate just with him; that none of your other casual partners have ever been looked at the way you’ve looked at him, that you never called them sweet names or given them such caring glances. Maybe he’s feeding himself a delusion, but he wants to believe you want him as bad as he wants you– beyond just the physical. He wants to believe this isn’t just a one time thing, and most of all he wants to believe that you’ll fall in love with him.

Is it normal to think about love when your cock is deep down your crush's throat? He doesn’t know– but all he can think about, apart from how amazing your mouth feels, is how much he loves and adores you. Letting his arm fall back to his side, he lifts his head from the sofa to look at you once more, and fuck, what a site you are. Eyes glassy and pretty as you gaze up at him through your lashes, cheeks flushed red, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

The sounds you make as you bob your head are so salacious it makes his head spin, his thighs tremble with each motion of your tongue on the underside of his length, and every time his tip touches the back of your throat he can’t help but let out a moan. His fingers struggle to find purchase on the sofa’s cushion, so instead he clenches his fist, knuckles quickly turning white. You notice, of course, so you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers and letting him squeeze your hand instead.

God, that fucks with his heart– but he hardly has any time to dwell on it. He’s barely been holding back his orgasm, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last. “Babe, baby, feels so good, I can’t– o-oh, please, ‘m gonna cum–” he babbles his warning, whimpering when you hum in response and continue to take him as deep into your mouth as he can go. His eyes roll back, cock throbbing and entire body trembling– and one more swipe of your tongue and swallow around his length is all it takes to have him cumming.

“O-Oh my– fuck, fuck, sorry, ‘m cumming, baby–” he rambles, thankfully too far gone to be embarrassed by all the things he’s saying to you. You swallow all he has to give you, not pulling off him until he starts to come down from his high and cock begins to soften. He’s dazed and breathless as he looks at you, chest heaving as his brain tries to recalibrate itself after how good you just made him feel.

You rise from your knees and set yourself back on the sofa, leaning towards Chan to kiss him after he’s caught his breath. He can taste himself on your lips, but he doesn’t hate it; there’s a strange part of him that even enjoys it. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles with a nervous pout when you pull away, “I tried to hold it back, but..”

“Channie, I told you not to worry about that. It felt good, right? That’s all that matters,” you tell him, directing him to look at you when he tries to avert his gaze again. He swallows the anxiety down, trying to look at you without feeling like disappearing into a void. But he can tell after just a moment how sincere you’re being, and it spreads relief through his veins. It’s not that he really doubted you, but his internal dialogue is far from rational.

You’ve been so good to him since the start, and though he’s incredibly shy and equally as nervous, there’s nothing more he wants now than to return the favor. He still doubts he’s good enough to give you what you deserve, to skillfully make you cum and cry out for him, but he’ll try– God, he’ll fucking try.

It takes all the confidence he can muster to speak what he wants to say, but he thankfully manages alright. “I want, uh– ..w-want to make you cum too,” he admits, doing his best to hold your gaze despite the way shyness claws at him and his blush burns his face. “Yeah?” you smile, honestly pretty eager to let Chan touch you more.

While you were more than ready to keep taking the lead, to guide him along and take care of him, you’re happy to see a surge of confidence in him– even if it’s a small one. “Touch me then, Channie. Make me cum,” you tell him as you beckon him closer, letting out a soft, content hum when he kisses you. You let him guide you back until your back is flat against the sofa, spreading your legs so that he can nestle between them.

You can feel his hands trembling again as they travel your body, but Chan doesn’t let the nerves prevent him from hooking his fingers into your pants. He continues to kiss you as he slides them down your legs, along with your panties– not just because he loves kissing you, but also because he’s not quite ready to look at your bare pussy; he genuinely thinks his heart will give out if he doesn’t mentally prepare himself first.

Pretty soon though, he does have to separate from you so he can let you slip your feet out of your clothes, and subsequently toss them to the floor with all the rest of your discarded clothing. He tries to keep his eyes locked on your face, but he can’t help but let his eyes trail down and roam over the rest of your exposed body. He’s mesmerized in an instant; you’re so impossibly pretty, every inch of you breathtaking and beautiful and– God, just perfect.

He knows his words will fail him, so he hopes his lips on yours will do enough of the talking for him, hopes that he can show how bad he adores and desires you with actions alone. You intended initially to let him take his time, but you’ve been impossibly wet and worked up this entire time; and besides, doesn’t he need a little push?

So you take one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping center. Chan lets out an involuntary whine from the back of his throat, body shivering in response. “Y-You’re so– oh my god, how are you so wet?” he asks, as in awe of you as he is surprised. “You, baby,” you answer, voice growing shakier now that he’s rubbing his fingers between your folds, “I told you, you– you’re so handsome, you know? Get me so hot, ‘ve wanted you so bad.”

God, he still can’t believe it– how is it possible that you’ve wanted him as bad as he’s wanted you? And there’s no way his insecurities can make him believe you’re just saying it to make him feel good about himself anymore, because he can feel the proof of your words with his fingers. “Tell me– tell me what you like, what you want, please,” he softly pleads, “need to make you feel good.”

“Inside, want your pretty fingers inside me,” you tell him, shivering when you feel the tips of his fingers pressing against your hole. He starts slow and careful, gently pushing one of his fingers inside, alternating between watching his hand and looking up to your face. You’re so slick and warm, and the way you squeeze around even just one of his fingers makes his head spin– because he can’t help but imagine how you’d feel on his cock.

“Another, add another, please,” you all but beg once you’re adjusted to how one feels, and he wastes no time in obliging you, delighting in the way it makes your eyes flutter closed. You bite your lip when he starts to instinctively move his fingers faster, little whimpers escaping as your breaths become heavier. “You sound so pretty,” he says, gasping when he realizes it caused you to clench harder around his fingers.

Do you like when he talks to you? He doesn’t know if it’s his voice you like, or what he said in particular, but if you like it then he won’t stop. “F-Feels so amazing, I can’t– can’t stop thinking about what you’d feel like around me, want it so bad, want to be inside you,” he starts to ramble, doing his best to voice everything that comes to his mind, anything he thinks you’ll like and will have you clenching again, even if it embarrasses him to say it.

He experiments with his fingers as he talks to you– changing angles and curling his fingers, trying to find what you like the best. You gasp when he finds your spot with the tips of his fingers, body trembling and back arching. “R-Right there, fuck, feels so good, Channie, your fingers feel so good,” you tell him breathlessly, and he can’t help the way he stiffens and throbs once more in response.

And really, how is he supposed to look at the way you shake beneath him, hear your pretty voice praise the way he’s touching you, and not get hard again? He wants nothing more than to make you cum– to make you cry and writhe in pleasure for him, because of him; almost desperate for it, he hits your spot over and over again, hoping to bring you closer and closer to the release you both crave.

He’s mesmerized by the way your eyes roll back, by the rise and fall of your chest and tremble of your thighs; addicted to the way your moans and whimpers grow higher in pitch, and the messy, wet sounds his fingers create between your legs. Chan glances down to your pussy, taking notice of your puffy, neglected clit.

He wants to taste it, to wrap his lips around and let his tongue lavish it, but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to get down smoothly or without messing up his rhythm; so instead, he brings his thumb to it– something he’s seen done in porn that woman always seemed to like (and he desperately hopes you like it too.) Thankfully, he gets the effect he was hoping for– you let out a whimper and squirm, nails digging into his skin.

Chan doesn’t let up even when his wrist begins to grow sore, running purely on desire and instinct. “F-Fuck, Channie, baby, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp out, voice whiny and strained, but still oh so pretty in his ears. He can’t believe he’s actually going to make you cum, can’t believe how lucky he is; and he's utterly transfixed on the way your body moves, drunk on the sounds that freely spill from you.

He gasps when you reach out and unexpectedly pull him closer, letting out a soft, surprised whine when you eagerly crash your lips into his. It’s the messiest kiss he’s ever had, tongues dancing and drool falling from the corners of your mouth, hot and heavy breaths passed between each other. Your thighs squeeze his hand as your orgasm takes you, entire body shaking as your back arches off the sofa, arousal gushing and further coating his fingers.

Chan slowly slides his fingers out of you as you catch your breath, meeting your gaze shyly when you open your eyes to look at him once more. He’s so fucking hard, again, and you instantly notice, much to his embarrassment. He wants to fuck you, there’s no denying it– but he can’t help but continue to feel self-conscious, even now.

You sit up and kiss him once more, as if to dispel all doubts and worries from his racing mind. “Want you, Channie,” you tell him, voice soft, sweet, and reassuring, “do you still want me? Wanna fuck me?” He whines from deep in his throat, knowing he’d never be able to deny it, even if he wanted to.

“Yes, God, yes, wanna fuck you,” he answers honestly, nervously chewing on his bottom lip, “b-but I– I just.. don’t want to disappoint you.” He’ll never forgive himself if he fucks this up and leaves you wanting and unsatisfied; he wants to be nothing less than perfect for you and he already knows that he isn’t.

“Channie, baby, look at me,” you say as you reach a hand to his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes again, “you won’t disappoint me, you could never.” You place soft, comforting pecks to his lips, holding his hands and rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs until you feel him start to lose his tension. “Remember what I said? Don’t worry about anything but feeling good. I want you to cum again,” you tell him, smiling as he nods, his face flushing a deeper red.

Leaning towards the coffee table, you reach for where you dropped your purse before sitting down with Chan, digging around inside until you find one of the spare condoms you make sure to keep for your dates. He swallows as he watches you pull it out, beyond nervous but equally as excited to finally feel you wrapped around him.

Even just watching you tear open the packaging is enough to have him trembling, and when you glance at him to make sure he’s ready, he ignores his insecurities the best he can to offer you a timid smile. You return the smile, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a few slow pumps to make sure he’s ready. He squirms and softly whines, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, but there’s no way he’s going to let that stop him from having this moment with you.

He shivers when you easily roll the condom down his length, biting his lip as you crawl back onto his lap after you’ve finished. His heart is beating fast and erratic, and he wonders if you can hear how loudly it’s thumping against his chest. He lies half propped up by one of the sofa’s cushions, looking up at you with eyes akin to a puppy, watching your every move with bated breath.

You reach between your bodies to hold his cock at the base, angling it with your still soaked entrance. You let go once you start to sink down on it, moving your hand to his chest to support yourself as his cock pushes inside. “Oh, fuck–” Chan lets out a choked gasp, already overwhelmed by the sensation even before you’re fully sat on his length.

Even with a condom on, he can still feel how warm and wet you are, your walls squeezing him so tight it takes his breath away. “Fuck, baby, oh my god, it already feels so good, what the fuck–” he gasps again once your hips are flush together. He doesn’t remember it feeling this amazing the last time he had sex; is it because he’s more sensitive from before? Or is it because it’s you?

No matter the answer, he’s certain of one thing– and that’s that he’s definitely going to cum fast; he just hopes you meant it when you said it’s okay. He lets out an obscenely loud moan when you start to lift and drop your hips– one that would normally make him extremely embarrassed, but he feels way too good to even focus on it; all he can think about is how fucking good you feel.

His hands squeeze your hips, and he looks at you with stars in his eyes. How can you be so pretty, so beautiful? How can you feel this good? The way he’s looking at you makes your heart stutter and pussy clench, an act that makes Chan’s head fall back against the cushion as he moans. He’s so handsome, with the way his curly hair clings to his forehead with sweat, his bitten lips and flushed cheeks– it's insane that he can't see how crazy for him you are.

You lean forward to kiss him, bringing one of your hands up to thread your fingers through his hair as your tongue slips past his parted lips. He feels dizzy with pleasure, each of his loud moans and whines muffled only by your lips on his. You’re both panting by the time you separate, with you falling forward and burying your face into his neck.

Your legs and knees quickly begin to scream at you, but you ignore it as best you can in favor of chasing pleasure, bouncing on his cock with all the energy you can muster. You know he won’t last much longer– he was already sensitive to start, and you can feel him twitching and throbbing more and more with each additional motion of your hips.

“Baby, ‘m so close–” Chan whimpers, eyes rolling back when you clench around him harder. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for me, Channie? Gonna cum with me?” you ask as you snake your hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in quick circles so that you can cum together. He quickly nods and bites his lip, hands squeezing you tighter and hips rising to chase you every time you lift off him.

It only takes a couple more rolls of your hips to have him cumming again, white, hot pleasure coursing through his veins and overwhelming every inch of his body, filling the condom with all he has to give. You follow quickly behind, hips stuttering and losing all sense of rhythm as you ride out your release.

You collapse against his chest with a heavy sigh once you’re done, utterly exhausted from all the effort, but completely satisfied. You’re both breathless, eyes closed as you collect yourselves and racing hearts start to return to normal speed. Well, in Chan’s case it doesn’t completely return to normal; because you’re still naked on top of him, and even after having just had sex, he still can’t believe you’re here with him right now like this.

You lift your hips and let his softening cock slide out of you, laying on Chan’s side with his arm as support so you don’t fall off the sofa. You carefully remove the condom, tying it off and preparing it to be thrown away once you’re ready to get up– for now, you’re too tired to move, and you just want to stay next to Chan for as long as you can.

You lay your leg across his body, cuddling close to him while he continues to support your weight with his arm. “How was it? Fun?” you ask him, smiling when he blushes and looks away, still unable to help being shy even after all you just did together. “Of course, you’re.. incredible,” he answers honestly, chewing on his lip before he continues, “But, were you– ..was I good enough for you..?”

“Channie, are you kidding? You were perfect, I promise,” you assure him, giggling softly when he breathes a sigh of relief. “You get stuck in your head too much, baby,” you continue, absentmindedly tracing circles in his skin as you speak, “I promise you, you could have anyone you want. I mean it when I say you’re perfect.” He still doesn’t quite believe what you’re saying is true, but he can at least accept that you believe it.

But he wonders if you know– it’s not just anyone he wants, but you. He was only able to do this because it was you that offered-–anyone else, and he would’ve instantly turned them down, or wouldn't have been able to enjoy himself if he did accept. Looking at you now reaffirms what he’s long since thought– you’re the only one for him.

“Baby, I want you to be mine-–want you to be my girlfriend,” is what he wants to say– but Chan is much too shy, and can’t bring himself to do it. “C-Can we– can we do this again sometime..?” is what he ends up saying insead. And you smile as you nod, sweetly running your fingers through his messy curls before you give him another kiss, “Course, baby. Anytime you want me, I’m yours.”

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#“something small” i say as i write 5k more words than intended of pure smut #ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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mya-valentine · 9 days ago

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Hey! Nice to see you open again!

I wanted to request a Kinich, Ororon, Lyney and Xiao x fem!reader of who fell first, who fell harder? trope please

Headcanon: Who Fell First, Who Fell Harder

Kinich: He Fell First, You Fell Harder

Kinich doesn’t outwardly express emotions easily, but the moment he met you, there was an undeniable pull. It was subtle at first—a quiet admiration for your generosity, your determination, and the way you seemed to light up a room without trying.

His falling was slow and methodical, just like him. He’d start noticing the smallest things about you: the way you furrow your brows when you’re focused or how you always manage to make people feel at ease. But his stoic demeanor hid it all.

You, on the other hand, fell much harder once you realized the depths of his loyalty and quiet affection. The way he remembered the little details, like your favorite food or how he’d silently place his coat over you when it was cold, made your heart race.

By the time you fell, it hit you like a tidal wave. His rare smiles and the way he’d open up only to you felt like treasures, and you realized just how deeply you were in love.

Ororon: You Fell First, He Fell Harder

Ororon’s reserved yet mysterious personality had you intrigued from the start. He had a certain charm to him despite his detached demeanor, and the way he treated others with a mix of blunt honesty and quiet respect made you fall first.

It wasn’t easy to crack his shell, but once you started to get to know him better, your feelings for him deepened. You admired his resilience and the way he carried himself, even after everything he’d been through.

Ororon, however, didn’t realize his feelings for you until much later. When it hit him, it hit hard. Suddenly, he found himself thinking about you constantly—your laugh, your kindness, the way you always believed in him when others didn’t.

For someone who had spent so long questioning his worth, your love felt like a revelation. (I can totally see him trying to ask Citlali what to do without actually asking her) He fell harder than he ever thought possible, quietly vowing to protect and cherish you in his own unique way.

Lyney: He Fell First, You Fell Harder

As the charismatic magician, Lyney was used to charming crowds, but something about you caught him completely off guard. Maybe it was the way you saw through his theatrics or the genuine kindness you showed even when he wasn’t in the spotlight.

He fell first, fast, and hard. Every time he performed, his eyes would wander to you, hoping to catch your reaction. He found himself pulling out all the stops just to see you smile.

You took longer to realize your feelings, unsure if his affection was just part of his show. But once he started showing you his quieter, more vulnerable side—the Lyney behind the curtain—you couldn’t help but fall hard.

When you finally admitted to yourself how much you cared for him, it felt like magic itself. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world, sealed the deal.

Xiao: You Fell First, He Fell Harder

Xiao’s quiet and brooding nature made it hard to get close to him, but something about his stoicism and sense of duty drew you in. You fell first, deeply captivated by his selflessness and the hidden softness you occasionally glimpsed.

At first, Xiao tried to keep you at a distance, not wanting to burden you with his karmic debt. But your unwavering patience and kindness slowly chipped away at his walls.

When Xiao finally fell, he fell hard. The realization that someone could care for him despite his flaws and pain was overwhelming, and he found himself fiercely protective of you.

His love was intense and all-encompassing, even if he struggled to express it. Every gesture, from shielding you in battle to simply watching over you silently, spoke volumes about how deeply he had fallen.

Masterlist

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ao3topshipsbracket · 9 months ago

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Welcome to the Unofficial Top Tumblr Relationships Bracket!

Many people on Tumblr might have engaged in the practice of "shipping" in relation to "media". Some, according to legend, even have opinions on these matters.

If the above happens to apply to you, you might be eligible to vote in this bracket! We have pitted the most popular pairings of the 2023 Tumblr Year in Review against each other to see who will emerge victorious. Round 1 polls drop on Saturday, April 20th at 1PM PDT, and will run for a full week.

Check current vote counts here!

Further information is below the cut!

How was the bracket made?

This bracket was made based off Tumblr's 2023 year in review ship list, and edited to fit into a workable bracket. Matchups were seeded according to ranking on the list.

What are your stances on voter fraud, campaigning, bribing people with drabbles and/or art, etc?

Enthusiastically in favor, although we do ask that you don't DDOS Tumblr, and ideally don't commit any murders that can be traced back to us.

Why aren't there platonic relationships in this bracket? There were in the AO3 one.

The AO3 data we were working with included all kinds of relationship tags, including platonic ones. The Tumblr year in review top ship list does not.

I have an issue with [x] being included in this poll.

This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with some of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement of anything included in the bracket, and refrain from harassment.

In general, please remember that this is intended to be a fun time for the wide community which is fandom culture, and treat each other with respect!

Bracket Schedule!

#not a poll #announcement

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depravitycentral · 2 months ago

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Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa General Profile

Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa x fem!reader

TW: kidnapping, stalking, drugging, controlling behavior, Kiyoomi is secretly a wee bit of a misogynist, he makes a few comments about Reader's weight but there's no explicit descriptors, allusions to reader purposefully hurting themself, reader suffers a minor concussion but it was an accident, implied noncon, mentions of physical abuse, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10K

DARLING PROFILE:

Considerate

Kiyoomi is not an especially generous person. He’s civil, sure, and adheres to social customs enough to not be considered too rude, but he’s never really understood the need to stick out one’s neck at the expense of others.

And so Kiyoomi is equal parts intrigued and frustrated by a darling who’s empathetic and cognizant of others’ desires and wants. He thinks it’s admirable, if not a bit naïve, but it’s not until they stick their neck out for him that he really begins noticing them.

It’s small things – offering him the package of communal sweets first so that he can have the first bite, their smile seeming too big when they tell him that they know he hates when other people touch his food first. It’s the way they always ask about his day, asking about specific details when his blanket statement of fine doesn’t seem to be enough.

(And specifically, it’s the way they ask about how he felt, rather than simply what he did. It makes him pause and think, glancing at them like they’re crazy, but finding himself slightly intrigued because he can’t remember the last time someone had asked about his feelings.)

It irritates him, more than anything, but as his friendship with them grows, Kiyoomi finds himself almost growing protective over how invested his darling is in others. It’s dangerous to be so selfless, don’t they know?

They’re practically asking to be taken advantage of, and while Kiyoomi tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care in the beginning, it becomes harder and harder to maintain that air as his feelings slowly begin festering.

It’s just a sign of stupid kindness, he thinks, but it nonetheless draws him in, desperation to be seen by his darling insatiable.

Smart

Unfortunately, Kiyoomi is a bit of a snob. And although his profession isn’t exactly academic, he still likes to think of himself as a man with decent taste, or at least someone with a good head on his shoulders. And so, having a darling who is equally as intelligent is something that Kiyoomi absolutely must have.

He can’t tolerate a ditzy partner, finding himself growing too irritated to stand being around them. Instead, he needs a darling that’s quick-witted, perhaps even snarky like him to match his wit and challenge him intellectually.

Despite what proves to be a distinctly possessive and controlling edge in his relationship with his darling, he does truly find their intellect and ability to think for themselves wildly attractive.

(He limits this, of course, feeling that his thoughts and feelings are ever so slightly better for his darling’s wellbeing, but it’s still a significant source of where his attraction is stemming from.)

And because Kiyoomi needs to have been friends with his darling for a significant period of time before his infatuation fully settles in, his darling needs to be smart enough for him to feel like they’re an equal in a platonic, friendship-based setting.

They don’t need to be a genius, but Kiyoomi respects those who are inquisitive and able to foster a healthy curiosity about the world around them. It’s sweet, and while he’s never given much thought to having kids (because while he feels he’d be a decent father, he’s not sure if he could handle having such disgusting things latching onto his leg or drooling over his shoulder), the mother of his children absolutely must have a good sense of judgement and wits about her.

It’s just so appealing to him, and even as his obsession festers and grows, eventually trapping his darling away, he still expects to see that fire in their eyes, loving the way they seem to understand what he’s thinking without him even needing to say it.

Flexible

Because Kiyoomi is so particular, in order to develop a friendship with him, his darling needs to be flexible. They need to be able to understand his preferences, and understand that he’s moody.

A stubborn darling that butts heads with him will only lead to Kiyoomi growing frustrated, and instead he’d prefer someone who’s more complacent with his own desires. It’s a trait that Kiyoomi is a bit embarrassed to say he finds attractive, if only because it’s an admission of knowing that he can be difficult to be around, but the comfort that his darling provides for him in this aspect is one that makes his feelings grow exponentially.

He wants to feel comfortable and cared for in their presence, and a darling that’s willing to do whatever he would prefer not only soothes his anxieties, but it spoils him in a way that makes his heart flutter, his cheeks blooming ever so slightly pink and his palms clamming up a bit.

It’s just so very sweet, and it leaves him feeling only more eager to be in their presence, desperate to spend every waking moment he can with them.

And as his infatuation continues, this is a key trait that allows his feelings to fester and grow to the degree of feeling constantly on edge without his darling in his sight.

He’s able to insert himself into their life more easily this way, able to control every aspect of their life, keep them away from potential suitors, keep them looking at him and him only.

Clean

This one isn’t as imperative, but similarly to matching his intellect, Kiyoomi appreciates a partner who’s naturally cleaner. He’s comforted by the knowledge that his darling isn’t dirty, that when he gets brave enough to reach out and oh so carefully, hesitantly run his fingertips over the soft skin of their palm, that they’ve washed their hands recently.

He likes knowing that the wonderful, lovely scent of their hair is a mixture of their natural scent and shampoo, making his eyes roll to the back of his head because he just wants to keep inhaling and inhaling, breathing in as deeply as humanly possible to consume as much of them as he can.

There’s this subtle sense of pride that settles into his chest when he enter their apartment for the first time, pleased to see the way their living-space reflects his own – perhaps with elements of their personality, maybe more colors or patterns or photographs of friends and family, but it’s almost too easy to see himself pulling his darling into his side on the spotless sofa sitting in their living room.

It’s disturbingly easy to fantasize about pulling the covers of their well-made bed over his head, black curls brushing against his darling’s navel as he travels lower and lower, listening to their gasps and moans as he greedily laps at the spot between their freshly washed legs.

It’s just reassuring, and it only pushes his obsession deeper because he takes it as yet another sign that he and his darling are entirely compatible, a perfect match that he’d be a fool to let go.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Gradual

Despite his status as an internationally known professional athlete, Kiyoomi’s habits haven’t changed much since his youth. He’s still not especially interested in any sort of romantic relationship – he’s picky, incredibly so, and it takes him an extremely long time to feel comfortable enough with someone to actually be willing to be open and vulnerable with them.

(Particularly in the context of anything intimate – he needs to be very, very comfortable with them to reach the point where he’d willingly kiss them, touch them, or, god forbid, be inside of them.)

He’s not fully against the idea, but he’s realistic enough to know that he’d be a hard partner to please, and he just isn’t all that interested in finding someone. He’s got his career to worry about, and with all the traveling he does and his own personal idiosyncrasies, it would just be easier to not have a significant other.

And frankly, this mentality sticks with him – you have to have known Kiyoomi for quite some time before he develops feelings for you. At the absolute minimum, he must’ve been truly friendly with you for three years; that way, he can solidly say he finds you tolerable, that you’re acceptably clean, not too annoying, someone he doesn’t hate being around.

And even once his feelings begin forming, it’s a slow process – he doesn’t just suddenly wake up and decide that he’s in love with you. No, it’s much more gradual, much more subtle – he doesn’t even know it’s happening until it’s too late, after all.

It starts off as little things that he notices; a new haircut of yours (it was just a trim, something small and something even you had difficulty noticing) that he comments on absentmindedly, telling you it looks nice, this hairstylist is much better than the last one.

He’ll notice that you’ve changed your style a bit; maybe you bought a new pair of pants and you’re a little nervous about wearing them because they’re cute, but it’s a new color or a new cut or just a little bit outside your comfort zone. (He’ll blink and stare when you settle into the other chair at the café, your nerves getting the better of you as you ask what he’s staring at, only to get the rather flat response are your pants new? I like them.)

He's always been observant, noticing little things about you, but normally they’re things about your personality, or things about your likes or dislikes. He knows your favorite ice cream flavor, and which brands to avoid when he’s buying you some for your biweekly movie night (something you had to beg him to start, but now he finds himself looking forward to – enough that he’s counting down the minutes in practice that day, dark eyes glancing at the clock every few minutes and sighing lightly at how slowly time is moving).

He’s always known you were a bit of a klutz, and that your spatial awareness leaves a lot to be desired, just because he knows you. You’re tight friends, after all. But lately the things he’s been noticing are less platonic and less general, and more relating to your looks.

He’s never noticed that you have a fleck of another color in your eyes – it’s pretty, and when you turn your head just right in the sunlight, it makes your eyes glow.

He’s never noticed that you fill out your clothing very well; he’s gotten teased for spending so much time with you, sure, Hinata or Atsumu’s dramatic assertions about how the two of you must be more than friends always making him scoff and roll his eyes, disgusted by the implications. But now he finds himself wondering, late at night, with guilt gnawing at him, what it would be like to actually undergo those implications – being physical with you, that is.

His gaze is lingering on your pants a little more than usual, dark eyes staring just a hair too long at your ass, the jeans tight and accentuating every curve you have.

He’ll force himself to stop thinking about it, wondering where the hell that thought had sprung up from, rolling over in bed and shutting his eyes tightly, praying for sleep to come and for the images of the few, accidental times he’d seen you in your bra to stop flashing through his mind.

He notices that his thoughts towards you are changing a bit, but he tries not to think about it. You’re friends – aside from Komori and his teammates, you’re his closest companion, and developing feelings for you would ruin the fragile thing you have. Except his denial of his feelings doesn’t magically make them go away – he’s noticing how often he touches you, without even consciously realizing it. When you hand him some cash to repay him for some snacks he bought you, your fingers brush against his, and he actually freezes when he feels it.

(Your hands are so fucking soft – not hard and calloused like his, not rough and scratchy from years of smacking rock hard volleyballs.)

He never realized that he unconsciously let his hand rest on the small of your back when you guided him through crowds, trying to find the shortest route to minimize his discomfort. (He’d always liked that about you – your acceptance of his dislike of large crowds and germs, never making him feel weird or like a freak for it. You’d even shared an irrational fear or disgust of your own, just to make him feel better – it didn’t, but he appreciated the sentiment.)

Small things begin compiling up for Kiyoomi – things he’d never really noticed or thought about before, but now seem to be at the forefront of his mind. And yet, he still represses his feelings – no, he doesn’t want a girlfriend, and if he acknowledges his feelings for you, he'll want to push your relationship in that direction, to not suffer in silence because he wants more more more.

And yet, as time passes, Kiyoomi finds that he simply can’t not acknowledge what he’s feeling – it’s too much, too strong for him to ignore. His heart physically aches when he’s not around you, his mind racing and whirring with thoughts of what you’re doing, how you’re feeling, who you’re with, if you’re thinking of him.

It’s overwhelming, and it gets to the point where Kiyoomi literally cannot function without recognizing just how far gone his feelings for you are – it's effecting his playing, his relationships with his teammate, his eating habits, even his sleeping. You’re just too all-encompassing, his feelings to fucking intense – intense enough to leave him staring at his ceiling night after night, the bright screen of his phone illuminating his bedroom as he scrolls through photo after photo after photo of you.

Always you.

Possessive

Kiyoomi’s feelings, while strong and nauseating and so, so very good, really end up intensifying to an unbearable level from a single, main cause – he absolutely cannot stand watching you interact with other men.

He can’t repress the way jealousy claws at his throat, making his mouth taste sour and his gut twist because who the fuck is that man you’re talking to?

All it takes is one instance of a man flirting with you while Kiyoomi is present for these feelings to spark up – frankly, he's shocked that the man had the gall to approach you when you’re with someone as famous and handsome as Kiyoomi Sakusa, but perhaps he’d only felt confident enough because you were smiling at this stranger, standing close to him, laughing at a joke.

His fists clench up, dark brows drawing tight as he watches, the bustling café too loud for him to pick out exactly what’s being said. Seeing the way another man looks at you makes his gut sink, and even once you return back to him (with the food you’d ordered for both of you, since you know how much he hates talking to strangers), he can’t shake off his sour mood. From that moment forward, Kiyoomi is forced to confront his feelings – specifically, the ugly, twisting mess of emotions he feels whenever you’re around another man.

He grows possessive of you remarkably fast, hating when your attention strays from him, particularly if the new target is another person. Another man, really. It makes all these insecurities begin sprouting up in his chest – things he thought he’d long moved past, doubts and self-criticisms that make him feel weak, helpless, pathetic.

When he sees you catch eye contact with the man passing you on the sidewalk, your smile and small good morning makes him think about whether this stranger can stand being in a crowd for longer than three minutes. (He probably can, something Kiyoomi can’t – this man could take you to all those concerts you talk about, and he could take you to fun amusement parks and be in the crowd at sporting events and museums and all sorts of things that Kiyoomi can’t.)

When he sees you laugh and apologize to the man you nearly ran over with your shopping cart in the grocery store, Kiyoomi can’t help but notice how easily the man’s smile comes, his entire aura radiating positivity and happiness, the little tease and joke he makes in response to your apology making Kiyoomi’s hair bristle, unease sitting in his chest because no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t be so carefree and socially comfortable.

(Would you prefer someone more confident and natural in social settings, someone who can make you laugh so easily and introduce himself to strangers, shaking their hand and telling them with any sort of honesty that it’s nice to meet them? Kiyoomi hopes not, please be no.)

He grows pessimistic at the prospect of you interacting with others, because Kiyoomi recognizes that he probably isn’t your type. It makes him feel insecure, worthless, ugly, but more than anything it makes him panic, his fingers shaking and his knee bouncing because he absolutely cannot allow another man to come along and sweep you off your feet.

He needs to do something – and do it quickly, because you’re beautiful and gorgeous and funny and sweet and smart and so fucking perfect, and surely another man will realize that soon and you’ll be gone forever, all while he’s left to watch and stand by, forever regretting that he let this happen. And so, Kiyoomi decides that his only option is to try and limit your time with other men – meaning, he needs to monopolize more of your time, keep you with him, your company limited to only your family, coworkers, and him.

It’s the only way – and while he’s never been particularly subtle about anything, even you will be shocked at how blatantly he acts on this desire.

He's calling you up more, sending texts with flying fingers asking if you’re busy tonight, if you’d like to move your movie night up a few days, if you’d like to go get lunch at the ramen shop Bokuto won’t shut up about, if you’d like to stay the weekend with him at the VRBO he’d already rented on a beautiful little lake.

(He won’t tell you he’d chosen that one specifically because there was both a lake and a hot tub present, meaning he’d get to see you in your swimsuit hopefully more than once, but still.)

He becomes desperate to get your attention solely on him, and while you’ll be surprised, you won’t give it too much thought. Kiyoomi’s always been a little strange, and if he wants to further your friendship, you wouldn’t put up a fight.

But then he’s also scowling when you bring up the name of any other man, even when you’re alone – talking about any of your friends or any of his teammates gets him clenching his fist so hard his perfectly manicured nails dig into his palms, sometimes even pressing hard enough to draw blood.

You’ll notice his discomfort, the way he tenses up, how his voice gets terse and he talks less than normal, and when you ask him about it, he’ll only bite out an I don’t want to talk about another man with you. It’s cryptic, kind of, and it’ll take you aback, but you’ll respect his wishes, mentally noting how odd his behavior is.

And really, that’s how it’ll all progress – you’ll write off Kiyoomi’s strange, possessive behavior, which only makes him further push the envelope, not allowing you to talk about another man in his presence, or even look at them or stand close to one. It’s too much, and it’ll make you uncomfortable, but Kiyoomi’s too far gone.

And frankly, before you pluck up the courage to actually seriously confront him about it, it’s too late – your mouth is already being covered with the chloroform rag, your body going limp and landing in his arms, the sound of him deeply inhaling next to your hair and the low whimper he lets out making you dread when you’ll awaken even more.

He just wants your attention on him, and even more than that, he can’t accept the idea of you leaving him – you’re close, you’re friends, even though the word makes him spit, and he won’t let you leave him. You aren’t allowed to, he won’t let you. So don’t even bother trying.

Controlling

Tying into his more possessive traits, Kiyoomi slowly begins morphing into someone you hardly know.

He becomes blinded by his obsession with you, allowing himself to become more and more omnipresent in your life, worming his way into every little aspect of the way you live, from who you spend your time with to the clothing you wear. Though he’s not particularly subtle, the beginnings of his more controlling behavior will actually spark up long before he realizes how he feels for you.

Much before he’s come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t mind waking up with you wrapped in his arms every morning, he’s telling you that you really should consider waking up at a more reasonable time. It doesn’t matter if you’re a chronic oversleeper, or if you rise with the sun every morning – you’re always doing something wrong, really, and Kiyoomi will point it out to you.

(This is done in a genuine effort to get you to healthier, though. It doesn’t really feel like it when he’s criticizing you for your lack or overindulgence in sleep, his words snarky and cutting, but the motivation behind his prodding into your sleep schedule is to make sure that your body is getting the appropriate amount of rest. To make sure that you’re taking care of yourself, really – because Kiyoomi simply doesn’t trust that you know how.)

Long before he realizes that he wants to press kisses against the column of your throat and feel your soft, warm pulse underneath his lips, Kiyoomi recognizes that you don’t take perfect care of your skin. You could always use a better moisturizer, a better toner, take more time in the mornings and evening to make sure your skin is glassy and smooth and soft.

(He won’t insinuate that you’re ugly, of course, because Kiyoomi is many things but not a liar. But that doesn’t mean he won’t make comments about how he thinks you’ve gotten more pimples recently because your creams are expired, dropping skincare recommendations on you unsolicited and without batting an eye. And when they arrive on your doorstep the next day, shipped with the fastest service possible that you know costs nearly double the regular speed, you can’t even truly get mad at Kiyoomi – after all, his skin is perfect, and maybe he does know more about skin care than you do. The least you could do is try the new products, right? It would be rude not to.)

He’s always been a bit controlling about how he wants things done, but where you’re concerned this is only amplified – it’s a response to caring about you more than anything. He loves you, feels such deep, horrible yearning for you that he feels he must have a say in your life. He’s a successful man, with the last puzzle piece of his life missing being a sweet, loving wife who dotes on him and he on her in return.

And perhaps it’s a coping mechanism to make up for all the years of feeling ostracized, having minimal friends and even less romantic pursuits, finding himself suddenly feeling the pressure to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect because can’t fuck up what he has with you.

He’s become too dependent, too reliant on your presence in his life, and he becomes all-consumed and paranoid at the thought of accidentally doing something to dissuade you from wanting to spend time with him. He won’t change himself for you (or, at least, not too drastically – just enough to keep you interested in him, just enough to keep you in his life), but Kiyoomi is putting every possible effort into making sure that everything goes according to plan.

Expensive dinners are meticulously analyzed, dark brows furrowing at each potential obstacle as he mentally rehearses for the date.

(He’ll order to smoked fish fillet, and you’ll have either the pasta or maybe the salad. But wait. Is it rude to recommend the salad to you? Would you perceive it as a comment on your weight? He wants to see you eating more vegetables, but he doesn’t want you to think he finds your body displeasing – absolutely not, not when he spends most mornings with a hand pressed against the shower wall, water mixing with sweat and dribbling down the curves of his back, other hand feverishly pulling and tugging at his cock, your name slipping between his lips like some sort of prayer.)

He's planning out who will attend your wedding, the seating arrangements, the colors and flower choices, even what your dress will look like and how you’ll style your hair. (It sounds sweet, really – except that it isn’t, because if things don’t go exactly how he’s expecting them to, Kiyoomi will panic, worry eating away at him because no no no! Everything needs to go according to plan, otherwise things will fall apart and you’ll look at him with disappointment and just the thought is making it hard to breath and he needs to see you right now and reach out and touch you and hear you say his name fuck fuck fuck -)

He becomes overly concerned with every little behavior that you exhibit, always making a comment on this or that, his eagerness for your approval (and your obedience) making it difficult for him to notice the way you roll your eyes or how you hesitate, slightly offended at the way he tells you to stop eating like you’re poor, chew slower.

Everything is done with the intent of trying to better your relationship, to make sure the two of you are as compatible as possible, but the execution will leave you often times feeling as if he’s purposefully belittling you, your irritation and anger growing but then tapering out when he looks at you with those eyes.

It’s hard to stay mad when you’re nearly his only friend, the authenticity in his voice when he says that he loves you making it hard to stay mad at one of your closest friends. Just don’t say that – it’ll have his eye twitching, something ugly clawing at his chest because in what fucking world are you two just friends?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

As a general rule, Kiyoomi does not handle jealousy well. He’s always been an envious person, but once his attachment to you forms and he becomes aware of just how badly he needs you – both emotionally and physically – his jealousy only increases, his intolerance of other people greedily sucking up your time lowering monumentally.

Because really, that’s what it is, isn’t it?

Other people – worthless, unknown, people who don’t even really know you like he does – wanting your time and attention all for their own selfish, gluttonous desires. It’s disgusting, frankly, how these people think they have any right to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your hand brushing against their own when you’re handing something to them.

(And oh, what an experience that is – Kiyoomi’s entire body stiffens up when he feels your skin against his, his mouth feeling dry and his pupils dilating because god, you’re so soft and warm and he’s never felt this urge before – the urge to reach out and take more, to keep touching you and feel his way up your arm, to press against the curving bones of your collarbone, to thumb over the plains of your ribcage, to take a handful and squeeze what he’s sure are two very, very soft and supple breasts… Just the thought has him breathing heavily, staring at you with this look that makes your skin crawl ever so slightly, the intensity and the concentration nearly scaring you.)

His possessive streak is bad enough that he finds himself actively seeking out men who may be interested in you when he’s in public with you – you’ll be happily chatting away, animatedly waving your arms as you tell him about the latest episode of your show you’ve been watching, and while he wants to be listening, to give you his full, undivided attention and watch the way your mouth moves when you speak, how your eyes light up, hear how you occasionally say his name, the lilting Ki-yoo-mi making his knees weak, he can’t focus.

Instead, he’s glancing around the cafe you’re sitting in, mentally noting every man and what they’re doing – there’s a brunette in the corner with his laptop open, what looks like email after email being fired off with rapt, quick fingers flying over his keyboard.

An irrational pang of fear shoots through Kiyoomi – do you ever receive emails at such a rapid pace? How often do men email you, and is truly as professional as you claim? How well do you know the mind of a man looking at you as nothing more than a walking pussy?

Another man is sitting near the fireplace, his phone in hand a scowl sitting across his features. He’s practically yelling into the receiver, telling off what Kiyoomi presumes to be his secretary because of some misplaced papers. Kiyoomi winces, grinding his teeth and clutching onto his coffee cup tighter because has any man ever yelled at you like that? Have you ever been screamed at, wrongfully blamed for something, or have you ever cried because of some horrible, lousy man?

(Kiyoomi isn’t a particularly violent person, but the mental imagery of leaving the man’s face purple and blue makes something warm and fuzzy and good settle in his chest, a sense of satisfaction and a rush of adrenaline nearly making him dizzy.)

Even the cashier has Kiyoomi on edge – he’s smiling like an idiot, greeting each customer with that infuriating, chipper tone of his, and it’s immediately making your coffee partner irritated, wondering with only the smallest big of insecurity whether you’d like that more – someone more outgoing, someone more friendly, someone less difficult than him.

Every time he's with you, the constant feeling of sizing up the other men in the vicinity is always weighing him down, the fear that you could potentially lose interest in him and instead develop an attraction to someone else leaving his paranoid and quite frankly scared – you wouldn’t leave him, would you? You wouldn’t abandon him, would you?

The thought is enough to make him guide you towards a less crowded area, back towards his apartment, back to where it’s just you and him – how it should be.

Kiyoomi knows he shouldn’t have let you talk him into coming to the supermarket. There’s a reason he pays for his groceries to be delivered to him – it’s too busy, too loud, too many unaware people walking around with no regard for personal space or respect. It’s irritating, really, but you’d been looking at him with those pearly eyes and fucking pouting, and how could he have possibly said no to that?

Not when you were saying his name with that low tone of yours, practically purring it, making it nearly impossible for him not to snap and tangle his fingers into your hair, to pull you as close as physically possible and suck hickey after hickey into the sensitive, delicate skin of your neck. He’d been a goner the moment you’d brought it up, and it’s only now, as he’s standing at your side in the bread aisle, that Kiyoomi feels the full regret of his decision.

After all, the rather attractive blond man at the end of the aisle certainly hasn’t slipped his notice – the man’s tall (though not as tall as Kiyoomi, of course), decently muscular (though Kiyoomi knows he has much more definition in his quads, the lines dancing along his thighs and calves drool-worthy compared to the stranger’s), and staring rather intently at the shelved loaves in front of him.

It makes Kiyoomi’s eye twitch; he’s purposefully placed himself between you and the stranger, hoping that this vantage point blocks as much of the man from your view as possible. You’re too engrossed in your selection process to really notice, Kiyoomi knows, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying, the nagging voice in the back of his head urging him to minimize your chances of even acknowledging this mildly attractive stranger.

He’s still got that familiar unimpressed look in those dark eyes (mixed with a touch of adoration as he watches you bite your lip and furrow your brows, the sight pulling at his heart and almost, almost making him forget all about his jealousy), and that look only darkens as he hears footsteps on the linoleum flooring behind him.

He moves closer to you, opening his mouth to tell you that you should just grab the nearest loaf and leave, but the man beats him to it. His voice is timid, scared, even, and for just a split second it leaves Kiyoomi feeling smug – for all this man’s physical attractiveness, surely you wouldn’t want such a meek, submissive man. Not when you could have someone like Kiyoomi – someone stronger, more masculine, more dominant, more of a man.

The man’s question is innocent, all things considered – he reaches towards the loaf of bread you’d already stashed away in your shopping cart, pointing a finger and asking where did you find that?

Immediately Kiyoomi’s stiff, every muscle in his body going taut because no matter how you react to the man’s question, he won’t like the result. Your mouth parts into an adorable little ‘o’ that gets Kiyoomi biting his lip, before you smile and point towards the opposite end of the aisle, answering with a chipper, oh-so-fucking-cute response of right down there!

Kiyoomi’s brows knit together as the man thanks you, moving forward to go in search of the loaf you’d guided him towards. As the man passes, those dark eyes settle on his figure, leaving him to pick up his pace, the heavy weight of Kiyoomi’s stare making him noticeably uncomfortable.

As soon as the man is out of earshot, Kiyoomi snatches your wrist, his grip tight and making you nearly wince, his other hand reaching out to grab the loaf you’d been eyeing. Come on, we’re leaving, is all he says, walking with purpose in the opposite direction of the man.

You’re out of the grocery store before you can blink, Kiyoomi slipping his credit card back into his wallet and guiding you towards his car. You’re confused, really, and as you blabber on about how he didn’t need to pay for your groceries and ask about what’s gotten into him, Kiyoomi can only usher you into the front seat, throwing the grocery bags into the trunk and taking a final glance around him. The man seems to still be in the store, and Kiyoomi clicks his tongue, a small pang of relief racing through him.

As he settles into the driver’s seat and puts the car into reverse, he glances over at you, soaking in the sight of you in his car with his old sweatshirt on. His lips quirk up at the edges, the smile small, before stepping onto the gas, driving away from the store and trying to forget the sight of your smile being aimed at someone else.

He grips the steering wheel hard, focusing on the sound of your voice to calm him – your voice saying thank you for the ride, Kiyoomi, you’re the best.

(A sound replaying over and over and over in his head later that night, with the too-bright screen illuminating your photographed face and casting shadows over his naked body covered in a light sheen of sweat. The best, huh?)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Really, as soon as Kiyoomi realized that his feelings for you were something so much deeper than he could ever imagine, he’d begun planning for your eventual relocation to his home. There’s a variety of reasons why he’s so eager, so insistent: it’s easier, and it makes more sense.

Because really, while Kiyoomi doesn’t want to steal you away, he doesn’t really have much of a choice, does he? You’re too independent for your own good – you’re always going out and doing things, seeing people, putting yourself in a position not only of meeting potential love interests, but also one of danger.

Kiyoomi rationally knows that you’re strong and can make informed decisions, but there’s a part of him that slowly grows to doubt your abilities. It’s not that you’re incapable, but more like you aren’t the most qualified to make choices about your own health and life.

And really, doesn’t it make more sense for him to guide you? Kiyoomi, who is successful, wealthy, the pinnacle of health and fitness, and much more calm and collected than you. Surely he knows better – and you’d agree, wouldn’t you?

You always seem to support his choices, laughing and telling him that he’s so predictable and logical whenever he rants about his teammates and general annoyances. You always sound so in awe of him, the praise and tone going directly to his head, making his palms feel a little clammy and his voice getting a little hoarse because oh, being seen and complimented by you feels very, very good.

And so really, it only makes sense that Kiyoomi steals you away – he’s already controlling, but he isn’t with you at all hours of the day, and can you really be trusted to be constantly making smart, responsible decisions every waking moment?

You don’t know what’s best for you, and in order to have you in peak health and keep you utterly, completely his, this is the only way. But to Kiyoomi’s credit, he gives you ample opportunity to willingly come to him. His attempts to ask you out are, objectively, not particularly romantic, but his requests for you to stay the night are met with little resistance from you.

It’s typical, after all, for you to stay over at his place in his spare bedroom after you’ve drunk just a bit too much, sleeping off the tipsiness because Kiyoomi will be damned before he lets you out on the road in the wrong state of mind.

(Not for the safety of others, of course – solely for you, because if you were to get injured or, god forbid, die, Kiyoomi genuinely thinks he may never recover, the pain and guilt of losing you driving his mad with grief. Besides, you look very, very enticing all tangled up in his spare sheets, your pretty body so scantily clad in the t-shirt he’d loaned you and a pair of workout shorts that ride very, very low on your hips. Enticing enough to have him standing in the doorframe of the room, entirely motionless as he watches you slumber, swallowing thickly and not letting his eyes drift from your form for sometimes hours on end, just watching and waiting.)

But then those requests to spend the night start happening more days out of the week than you’re comfortable with, happening multiple nights in a row, so much so that you’re starting to spend more time at Kiyoomi’s place than your own – and so when you start denying his requests, he resorts to one final tactic.

Of course, it doesn’t feel good to be unscrew a few things under your bathroom sink as he ‘uses the restroom’, but it’s necessary. When you call in a panic later that day about how your apartment is flooded and your landlord is furious over the water damage, Kiyoomi will try his best to be sympathetic, to not sound as flat and mildly pleased when he offers to let you crash at his place for a few days until it all gets sorted out. He’ll mess with your piping first, then your thermostat.

(He’ll tell you on the phone that losing your heating during the height of winter isn’t a joke, I don’t care how many blankets you have you’ll still freeze to death – and who’ll have to organize your funeral? Me, so don’t be selfish.)

Then he’ll go so far as to start stealing things out of your apartment – of course, he’s always been a bit heavyhanded in ‘borrowing’ your things (mostly inconsequential things that he knows you wouldn’t notice, like little knick-knacks or pairs of clean socks – things that make him feel more connected to you and are the perfect size to fit underneath his pillow at night, of course), but then he starts looting away more serious items. Your books go missing, your jewelry, cups from your cupboards, even going so far as to steal your laptop or your speakers or anything else he knows you’ll miss.

And when you’re running to him and telling him that someone’s targeting your apartment, that you’re feeling unsafe, that you think someone’s been repeatedly robbing you and breaking into your apartment, he'll only sigh and tell you that you’d be stupid to not live with him for a while, that you’re practically asking for death by staying in that tiny little thing you call an apartment for any longer.

And in the event that you’re still planning on living on your own after all these attempts to force your dependence on him, Kiyoomi will see no other option – having you live with him is like his own personal heaven, and he’ll be damned if he loses the feeling of falling asleep under the same roof as you, of hearing your pretty snores and seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slumber.

You’re just too damn perfect, and so you really, really shouldn’t be too surprised when Kiyoomi’s got the rag held over your nose, his words cold in your ear as he tells you to stop struggling, you’re only making this harder. After all, he’s made himself perfectly clear – it’s not his fault you didn’t pick up on the signs.

As a captor, Kiyoomi retains a lot of his mannerisms from before stealing you away. He’s still a bit harsh with you, his tongue biting and cold, but the difference becomes that Kiyoomi doesn’t bother trying to hide the nature of his feelings anymore.

You’d been aware that his interest shifted from a more platonic to romantic nature sometime along the way, but now there’s absolutely no way to misinterpret his actions – not when he’s resorted to making you sit so close to him on the couch, those dark eyes expectant when you don’t immediately shuffle into his side. He’ll stare for a while, before sighing, like it’s all some big chore, then grabbing you and forcing you to practically sit in his lap, all the while grumbling about you being so damn difficult, aren’t women supposed to love cuddling?

He’s making you take all your meals with him, forcing you to sit at the modest wooden dining table, the rather bland meal of white rice, fish and a roasted, unseasoned vegetable looking less appetizing with every day.

(He won’t let you cook, however – his protective tendencies show most when it comes to you being in the kitchen, if only because he doesn’t trust you to not injure yourself. There’s just too many possibilities – you could cut yourself, burn yourself, use the cheese grater or the potato peeler to tear off a layer of skin, you could squeeze lemon juice into your eyes or get jalapeno residue at your waterline. There’s just too much that could happen, and while Kiyoomi would absolutely love to have you entirely dependent on him if you were to become injured, the idea of knowingly letting you hurt yourself makes something bitter tinge in his mouth, his legs getting restless and his fingers twitching because he needs to do something to prevent that from happening.)

He’s curating a wardrobe for you, making sure to dress you in his favorite colors, rich fabrics, comfortable designs, things that he thinks will make you happy but still fit his tastes. (And besides, you’ve always complimented him on his own fashion choices – surely you’d trust him on this too, right?) There’s lots of complimentary colors and designs to match his own clothing, enjoying the way you two look right when you’re together, a smile gracing his lips and prompting him to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger, bringing it up to his lips and letting his tongue dart out ever so quickly, just to catch a small taste of you.

He’s controlling, always dictating what you do, what your plan for the day is while he’s gone, but it’s always done with the intention of trying to keep you safe and what he hopes will make you happy.

He’s investing a large portion of his very generous salary to getting the best supplies of any hobbies you have (as long as they revolve around music, art, anything that couldn’t possibly hurt you), always demanding you show him the progress you’ve made that day. It’s a desire to get you to interact with him, but it also makes pride swim in his gut to know that you’re getting better using the things he bought for you.

(And perhaps, there’s even some small part of you that’s improving to impress him… Just the thought makes him gulp heavily, having to shift his pants ever so slightly because the idea of you wanting to impress him, to seek his approval, to make him happy gets him hot under the collar.)

Life will become very monotonous with him. It’s a routine, with any deviation planned out in advance, Kiyoomi finding comfort in the order and consistently. It helps quell the anxiety stirring in his gut when he’s away for tournaments or away-matches, his knee always anxiously bobbing as he imagines what you’re doing.

He’ll whip his phone out nearly ever five minutes, tapping into the multitude of cameras he has set up around the apartment just to keep an eye on you, visibly relaxing when he sees you tucked up into bed, stepping out of the shower, or even reading on the sofa.

(He’s harsher than normal when Hinata bounces up and asks what he’s looking at, his words dripping in an extra layer of venom as he tells his fellow spiker to get away from me, it’s a private matter. Because he’ll be damned if he lets anyone see you in any sort of intimate, raw way – you’re for his eyes only, and Kiyoomi would rather cut off his left hand than let the redhead get even a glimpse of you.)

Kiyoomi is omnipresent, a trace of him present in every aspect of your life, and while it’s exhausting, humiliating, enraging, you’ll eventually grow tired of trying to rebel. He’s a patient man, but you can only handle so many derogatory comments, so many failed escape attempts (he has the best, most up-to-date security measurements around the apartment, of course) before you decide it may be better to simply accept this as your new fate.

After all, Kiyoomi isn’t that bad, right? You’d been friends for years – you know he’s a good person, and perhaps this is just a lapse in his judgement. Maybe he’s not thinking clearly. Maybe he’ll lose interest in you, or decide that what he’s doing it wrong.

You’ll cling onto the hope, repeating the mantra over and over in your head, but by the fifth year of living under his lock and key with a baby nursing at your breast, it’ll be very, very difficult to pretend that this isn’t your reality.

So really, it’s in your best interest to just accept him, to accept this – you’ll be happier this way. He promises.

PUNISHMENTS:

In general, Kiyoomi is actually remarkably patient with you. Somewhere deep down, below all of the twisted, dark manifestations of his feelings, he does truly love you. And while his controlling behavior and the way he expects you to give him all of your time, attention, energy, and focus is exhausting and at times dehumanizing, Kiyoomi never truly wants to hurt you.

And as a result, it’s unlikely that he’ll ever lash out in a way more substantial than verbally. He’d never physically hurt you, as seeing you with even the slightest discoloration or bruise makes him near inconsolable, anger seeping into every part of his body because you absolutely cannot be hurt, not when he’s the one who’s supposed to be your perfect, caring, protective partner.

He won’t take away your basic rights, either – though, in all fairness, they’re effectively gone once he realizes the depth of his feelings for you. He forces you to spend all your time with him, share meals and wear the clothing that he picks out for you, and so aside from forcing himself to be present while you relieve yourself or perhaps feeding you with his own hands, there really aren’t too many personal rights that he could take away even if he wanted to.

Kiyoomi does have a tendency to be a bit mean when he gets frustrated or afraid, however. You’ve always known this about him – his snarky personality is what initially drew you to him as a friend, but there’s something more cutting and biting about the way it feels when he’s looking at you with a mix of such devotion and anger, the love pooling in those dark eyes scaring you even more than the way they crinkle at the edges, wrinkling dotting his forehead as he frowns and scoffs at you.

It’s hurtful, really, when he makes comments about things he knows you’re insecure about – perhaps your weight, your smile, your curves, your laugh, your intelligence, anything and everything because he needs to make you understand how you’re making him feel, how it hurts him just as much as it hurts you.

It’ll make your eyes sting, the venom in his voice enough to make you crumple in on yourself, and it’s only after Kiyoomi’s left and calmed down enough to breath normally again that he realizes just how truly devastated his comments make you. He’s softer, after that, approaching you with shaking hands and a tone that’s laced with something almost akin to fear, calling your name and pretending that it doesn’t slice through something soft and vulnerable and weak inside him when you flinch at his touch.

He’ll be kinder after that, spoiling you with your favorite foods (even the unhealthy ones, which would normally never be available to you, what with Kiyoomi’s obsession with keeping your diet squeaky clean), watching hours upon hours of your favorite movies and shows, even material purchases of new clothing and expensive jewelry.

It’s not enough to truly make you feel better, but as time passes and the realization that Kiyoomi is truly all you have in this lonely penthouse apartment of his, you’ll grow to appreciate it, even if his words still echo in your head.

But really, what primarily sets Kiyoomi off is your disobedience – his controlling tendencies are so ingrained into him by the time that he’s stolen you away permanently into his home that he simply cannot handle when you aren’t utterly compliant with his every whim and wish.

In his fantasies of you living with him and staying by his side, fueled by possessive need, you’re always so eager to please, doing anything and everything you can to make Kiyoomi happy. And when you contrast this idealized version of your behavior, it’s a rude awakening for him that you aren’t truly happy with him yet, that things aren’t as perfect as he wants them to be. And so, as a defense mechanism he lashes out, spitting out words and lies that make both of your hearts hurt.

But truly, what really warrants the term ‘punishment’ is what happens when something even bigger happens – when you hurt yourself. It doesn’t even have to be purposeful; it still results in utter, blind panic consuming him, his heart racing in his chest and a cold sweat dripping at his brow because you’ve somehow managed to cut your thumb while he was at practice.

It makes him see red, desperation tinging his movements, making his hands tremble and his feet practically flying as he rushes you into the bathroom, applying too many anti-bacterials and wrapping your thumb tightly enough to nearly cut off the circulation. It’s pure, unadulterated dread that seeps into his bones, a panic like he’s never felt before, and this leads to the most extreme reaction Kiyoomi will have to your behavior – that is, he doesn’t like slipping the pill into your food, but your body needs time to rest. You need time to rest. He needs time to simply hold your limp, unconscious body in his arms, clutching onto you like a lifeline and pressing you as tightly against his body as possible just to prove to himself that you’re here, that you’re alive, that you haven’t left him.

Kiyoomi doesn’t necessarily like drugging you, but it’s the only way to keep you from hurting yourself again for the next day or so, the only way to make sure you don’t have a repeat offense.

You hadn’t meant it – really, you swear you hadn’t – when you’d left the shower curtain a little too open. The water wasn’t supposed to be splashing out and leaving a puddle directly outside of the tub.

You know how Kiyoomi gets – irritated by the mess, those dark eyes clouding and frustration settling across his features because you’re so damn clumsy, can’t you notice when the shower curtain’s wide open? As you glanced at the clock sitting against the stark white walls of the bathroom, you bit your lip. He would be home any minute now from practice, surely needing to be in the exact space you currently were, aching to get every bit of sweat off his skin.

The towel clutched in your hand wasn’t absorbing as much as you needed it to, the gray already turned a dark, near black color despite how much water was left on the tiled ground. Cursing, you sat back on your heels, resigning yourself to needing to dirty another one and having to deal with Kiyoomi’s multitude of questions.

But as you shifted your weight, hands braced against your thighs to sit up, the sudden impact of the back of your head against the edge of the marbled countertop make you cry out, the stinging sensation followed by a dull thud making you collapse down. Clutching at the injured area, tears pricked at your lashes, body curling up into a feeble position despite the water now absorbing into the freshly clean clothing you’d just changed into.

Your vision was hazy, everything looking warped and bent, and you only very distantly hear the sound of the multitude of locks on the front door opening, Kiyoomi’s grumpy I’m home resounding through the apartment. His footsteps are heavy as he wanders through the rooms, slowly growing in speed and weight as he begins worrying, unable to find you.

But you do hear when he gets to the bathroom doorway, wide gaze catching sight of your curled-up form and the slew of curses falling past his lips as he immediately drops his bag and stumbles down to you. You’re clutching your head and through your bleary eyes you can see the way all color has drained from his face, eyes blown wide.

He doesn’t bother asking what happened as he scoops you into his arms, adrenaline coursing through him and forcing him to run through the apartment to your shared bed, settling you down as gracefully as possible. Before you can orient yourself he’s already pressing cold cloths against your scalp, shoving thermometers into your mouth and compulsively checking your pulse points, terror still running through him.

He’s muttering under his breath, what sounds like your name mixed with mantras of she’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay, though it sounds less like a statement and more like a hope.

It doesn’t take long for you to slip into unconsciousness, only being awoken a while later by Kiyoomi’s thumb stroking at your cheek, his eyes red and watershot, as if he’d been crying. Drink this, he tells you, holding a glass of what looks like water out to you.

When you don’t move, he grimaces. Please.

Your sips are slow, your head feeling like cotton, and Kiyoomi watches with baited breath, a hand still placed high on your thigh over the covers of your shared bed.

Those dark eyes are still fixed on you as you lean back, sudden exhaustion rolling through you, your own eyes fluttering closed once more. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out once you wake up, but it’s early morning now, from the looks of the barred window, and as you slowly come back to consciousness, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your head, you notice Kiyoomi standing at the end of the bed, seeming to loom over you.

He doesn’t say much, only rushing forward to grasp at your hand and once more check your pulse, sighing with relief when it comes back steady and normal. He doesn’t let go for a long time, still silently staring, watching the way you squirm and wince as your headache throbs. And when you eventually wander out of the room that night to see him making dinner, you won’t bother asking why the calendar shows that two days have passed, nor why there seems to be a thick rubber padding on every desk, table, and counter corner you see. It’s not worth it, really, because you already know the answer.

And as Kiyoomi spots you, the small smile that spreads across his lips makes your skin crawl, your thighs shifting weight as the lacy panties you know you didn’t have on previously tickle against your skin.

Sit down, love, dinner is ready.

And he can only smile when you do, something flickering in his heart at the sight of you looking at him with wide eyes, all confused and pretty and so very pliable. Sure, your concussion is no small injury, but the way you’d been sleeping so soundly in his bed, the smallest snores slipping past your lips and your body seeming to mold against his when he’d pulled you against his chest made him almost grateful for your clumsiness.

Stupid girl, he chides to himself. This is why you need me, can’t you see?

OVERALL DANGER:

8/10

While Kiyoomi himself isn’t inherently dangerous, what makes him such an intense yandere is his blatant disregard for hiding his feelings from you. He doesn’t care whether you see how deeply obsessed with you he is, whether you become aware that he wants nothing more than to keep you with him forever and ever.

Kiyoomi is resourceful and follows through with his plans and goals, so once you’ve gotten his attention, you can kiss any ounce of freedom goodbye. He’s controlling and possessive, and it’ll almost feel like you aren’t even yourself anymore, but Kiyoomi will always be there - looking down at you with an impossible to read expression, before a small flush will coat his cheeks and he’ll gently flick your forehead, telling you that he loves you and that he’s happy to have you with him, where you belong.

Of course, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter, but there’s something deliciously pleasant about pretending that you want to be here, something that makes his heart race and blood rush to both his cheeks and between his legs.

Kiyoomi is a tricky case, because your initial friendship with him and the odd charm of his strange idiosyncrasies will leave you naively blind to the way he slowly devolves into a deeper and deeper state of obsession. You can’t see the way he begins losing himself, all his time and focus beginning to shift only to you, and by the time you truly realize just how far gone he is, it’s too late to get away from him.

Because Kiyoomi has thought of absolutely everything – it’s practically impossible to get away from him, and really, can you so easily disregard years of friendship once the warning signs become clear? Are you so inhuman and cold as to pull away from your closest friend once he starts acting strange?

Perhaps you’re the crazy one here – a sentiment that Kiyoomi will only encourage if it means getting you to touch him, if it means you saying yes to spending the night at his apartment, if it means you say yes when he tells you that pregnancy would suit you.

But really, it doesn’t matter – after all, you’re Kiyoomi’s now, and absolutely nothing will change that.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere sakusa #yandere kiyoomi sakusa #_haikyuu #_kiyoomi sakusa #_lee's profiles

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 11 months ago

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Pairing : Dad!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : first half angst ; reader is pregnant ; Ji is kind of an a-hole ; he fixes himself ; time jump for the second half ; ji and readers daughter is 5 ; Ji is still an a-hole ; angst ; happy ending though ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Can you please write an angst with a fluffy ending on hannie - where y/n surprises him that shez pregnant(w a daughter)but he lashes out at her harshly and says he doesn't want the baby bcz of his tiring and exhausting schedule - but realises his mistake sooner and apologizes her and even takes care of her during her pregnancy and even his precious daughter once she's born , And one mor fic of angst w a fluffy ending on hannie - where he lashes out at his 5 y/o daughter and y/n as they asked him to spend more time with him ,and especially on his daughter's bday and he didn't even remember her daughters bday and said all the possible harsh things like way too harsh things to them on his daughters bday - but later the same he realises it's his daughters bday and regrets immediately and Apologizes to both yn and his daughter and even surprises his precious daughter lately on her birthday A/N : I'm combining these two!! It'll be a famous Nana time jump for this one so I can pair them together in one fic. I changed the request just a little bit, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anonny. ALSO! I think I got the job!! That also means that I'll be working overnights (graveyard shift), but I'll actually be respected and treated fairly so... I'm really happy. I'll be able to get the hours that I need to pay my bills as well. I won't be able to write as much, but I promise I will write when I get the chance to.

Were you and Jisung together? Of course you were, he was the love of your life, and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a single day that went by when you weren’t able to happily say he was yours. Ji made you laugh, he made you laugh to the point where your stomach hurt and your eyes filled with tears and you were doubled over wheezing and gasping for breath. Ji made your heart feel full, so full that there was no more room in your chest for it to grow anymore. He made you feel loved in a way that was so magical, so dreamlike, it was like living in your own fairytale except it was all real, and every morning you got to wake up and know that he was yours and you were his.

Were you and Jisung together though? No, very rarely. His job kept him away from you more often than not, and while the moments that the two of you were able to physically be together were… well, dreamlike, a lot of the time, most of the time, your interactions were kept to phone calls and late night texts or video calls. You tried to be supportive, you didn’t complain as much as most people probably would, although there were many times when you wanted to just break down and beg him to put you before his job at least once a month. But you didn’t, you’d put on a smile as you hugged him and kissed him goodbye after one of those rare nights when he would be able to come over and spend the night.

He spent most of his time at the dorms with the other guys, and while he’d try to invite you over there, you’d always kindly decline. As much as you loved the guys and looked at them as brothers, you wanted to be able to spend time with Ji alone, and to you it seemed like he’d rather be around them than to be around you sometimes. You wished that he’d grow up a little, prioritize the relationship, and it seemed less like a wish and more like a need now. It only took one rare night that he spent the night for you to get the most life changing news of… well… your life.

///

“Can you… Can you hear me?” You asked into your phone, the mind numbing sound of static coming through the speaker was headache inducing, but you really needed to talk to him.

“Yeah… Kind of… Shit, this reception is really bad. Can you just text me, baby?” His voice came through choppy and muffled, it sounded like he was underwater, and while you knew that it would be best to text him considering the way the phone call was going, this wasn’t really something that you wanted to tell him over text. You wanted to hear his reaction, and while it would have definitely been better to tell him in person, he was currently on tour and you knew that by the time he got back, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

“I really need to talk to you…” You said, rushing out the front door to stand on the porch, hoping that the service would be better now that you were outside. “Can you hear me now?” You asked, and you heard him hum in agreement, and while you should have felt better that this moment wasn’t stalled any longer, your stomach began to twist into knots and although the mid-February wind was whipping around you, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

“You okay, baby? What’dya need to talk about?” His voice filled the silence, and you knew that he didn’t have much time before he had to go back to work. He wasn’t rushing you, but you felt rushed, you didn’t want to wait forever to tell him, and you thought that maybe the news would brighten his day and lift his mood that had already peaked. He was so sweet, so gentle, and he had often talked about one day having a little baby Ji to follow in his footsteps, you were certain that his reaction would be nothing but positive.

“I’m pregnant, Ji…” You whispered, and there was no question as to whether he heard you. The sound of a gasp, and then loud coughing, and then silence. Had he muted his phone so he could celebrate with the guys? “Babe? You still there?” You asked, trying not to get overly excited yourself. You wanted to save your own celebration for when he came back home and you both could be together to share in the excitement of such big news.

“No. I… Look, I need some time to think about this because… You just… Do you even know what I’m doing right now? I’m about to do a show and you think I needed to hear that before I go on stage? As if things aren’t stressful enough for me… I don’t… I don’t want a damn kid right now!” Had you set your expectations too high? This was most definitely not the way you thought that the announcement would turn out, and this wasn’t the way you thought he’d be. It was so shocking that you were stunned into silence, frozen like a statue on the front porch. “I don’t want it. That’s it… That’s all I have to say. Figure something out because this isn’t going to work. I have to go.”

And he did. He hung up, leaving you with so many thoughts, but none of them stuck long enough to really form into anything more. What the hell did he expect you to do? You were already 3 months along, it’s not like you were just going to get rid of the baby because he decided that he didn’t want it. That did change things though, it changed a lot of things. You weren’t sure what you were going to do right at that very second, but you had a lot to figure out before he came back from tour.

After the concert, after all of the stress of the show wore off, he was able to really think. He thought about the phone call, he thought about what he said, and he was immediately hit with a wave of regret. He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking when he said it, he didn’t know what came over him, and the only reason he could truly come up with was the stress. It was the damndest thing, because he truthfully wouldn’t mind being a father, especially knowing that someone as amazing and caring and loving as you would be the mother to his child.

That’s why he tried to get in touch with you, calling your phone repeatedly until he came to the stomach turning conclusion that you just weren’t going to answer him. That didn’t stop him from calling once more to leave a message though. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, I love you so damn much, and I’m happy, I really am. I do want the baby, I want this, I do. Please, don’t think about what I said, I wish I could just take it all back, I wish I could make you forget that I was stupid enough to say something like that. I hope you’re sleeping and when you wake up, just call me, please call me, baby. I need to hear your voice, I need to know that we’re going to be okay. I love you.”

The call was promptly ended before he fell back onto the hotel bed. It was strange how he had been able to sleep by himself in the dorms for so many nights, he was able to fall asleep without you, but now that he knew that you were carrying his child, now that he knew how much he had fucked up, he couldn’t seem to sleep at all, and he wanted nothing more than to be right beside you, holding you.

He was restless, he couldn’t even close his eyes to try to get some sleep, and he knew that there was no way he’d be able to perform the following night, not unless he knew everything was okay back at home. So he didn’t sleep, instead he got online and started looking up tickets for the next flight that would take him home to you. How was he even supposed to perform when his mind was running rampant with thoughts of you leaving him? He couldn’t do anything with those thoughts plaguing him.

So he bought the ticket, a red eye flight that he’d hopefully be able to get a little bit of shut eye on before he landed. He didn’t just need to sleep, he needed to think of what he’d say once he got back home to you. He was sure that the guys would understand. Or maybe they wouldn’t… He’d apologize to them for leaving on such short notice, and he’d make sure to come up with some elaborate excuse for the fans as to why he wasn’t there.

He knew that he wasn’t the best at prioritizing the most important things, at least not what most people would consider important. He had spent so many years of his life working towards this dream of becoming a famous idol, and even when he achieved that dream, he just couldn’t stop. Even when you had entered his life and made the world seem so much brighter, he had foolishly continued to choose his career, and you had, amazingly enough, still decided to stand beside him and put up with his shit. He had to show you that you were important, not just you now though, but this baby, this child who had come as a surprise, but he made a mental note and a promise to himself to love this child, his child, regardless of anything that happened.

///

You stood in the kitchen, a cup of coffee held tightly in your hands as you overlooked the city just outside your window. You tried not to think about what he had said, you wanted to have a decent morning, well, evening… It was already 1 in the afternoon. When you woke up there had been so many calls from him, but only one voicemail that you were far too scared to listen to. You knew that he was angry, he was pissed, and you didn’t want him to go off on you again, even if it were only through a recording. You still had to figure out what to do though, it didn’t seem like there was much in regards to options. You weren’t going to get rid of the baby, and as much as you loved Jisung, the life that was now growing inside of you was far more important than a relationship that was clearly one sided.

The birds chirping just outside your window had captured your attention fully, the sounds of the city which had seemed so loud before were now almost calming, but that calm was soon disrupted by the sound of the lock being undone on your front door. You whipped around just in time to see Jisung standing in the doorway, disheveled and slightly frazzled as he dropped his bags to the floor. “What are you doing here?” You asked, refusing to move any closer to him. “Thought you had a tour to worry about?”

His head shook and his bottom lip jutted out, shaky breaths had him trembling where he stood just as still as you had been on the front porch just yesterday. “The tour isn’t more important than you. It’s not more important than our family… our baby…” He whispered, his voice shaking just as much as his body was. “I was an idiot, an overly stressed out idiot… But I didn’t mean it. D-Did you listen to the message?”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to pay too much attention to how sad he was and just how much it pulled at your heartstrings to see him that way. You just had a soft spot for him, and you were sure that that would never go away, or, at the least, take a while to fade. You had to be strong though, and even if what he said was true, you had to let him know how much you had been hurt by what he said before. “No… I didn’t. I think you said enough, and I didn’t really want to listen to your voice again, not any time soon.” It was a lie, you loved his voice, you didn’t want to go a day without hearing it, but watching the way his face crumpled, you could tell that your words really hit him.

“That’s fair…” He whispered, a loud sniffle coming from across the room. “You don’t have to listen to it… I’ll say it now. I love you… and I love the little baby that we made together… And I’m sorry I was a dick. I don’t want to lose you, not because I was stupid and stressed out. I don’t want to lose you at all, ever.” Now his words were hitting you, although you were definitely going to blame the fresh tears that were streaming down your face on the raging hormones that were currently coursing through your body. “Don’t cry… Please don’t cry, I’ll cry too.”

“You’re already crying though…” You whimpered out, a small sob mixed with a giggle. It felt so nice to laugh, but it felt even better to laugh with him. You wanted to put it in the past, not forget it, but right now you just wanted to move on. “Do you have to go back? I don’t want you to get in trouble for missing the shows…”

His shoes had already been kicked off, making his way now over to where you stood in the kitchen, his hands cupping your face and his thumbs brushing away your tears. “I’m staying here… Where I belong. Changbin or Hyunjin can cover my parts. I want to be here with you, and that’s where I’m going to be. No more crying, I want to hear all about how you’re feeling, I want to be here for you.”

///

The next months of your pregnancy were strange. It was like they were going too fast, but they also weren’t going fast enough. You loved being pregnant, but you weren’t a big fan of all the attention you were getting. It was one thing for it to be coming from Ji, but it was like everyone gravitated towards you, or… Moreso, your bump that everyone seemed to want to touch and ogle over like they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.

Jisung was too kind to tell anyone to really back away from you, and you didn’t know half of the people that would swarm around you wherever you went, but it was exhausting to deal with them. You knew that Jisung meant well though, and you could tell that he was proud to be a soon-to-be father, you could just feel the pride radiating off of him whenever he talked about it.

His proudest moment to date though, was when he found out you were having a girl, that you were carrying his daughter. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he looked on in awe at the sonogram screen. You had to practically snap him back to reality that day, his head stuck in the clouds, daydreaming about the day his daughter would be born, the day he’d finally get to hold her and see her. He had told you all about it in the car on the way home.

From that day forward, as if he wasn’t already like your shadow, he practically became glued to your hip. You love him, you really do, but it became annoying, not that you’d tell him that. You couldn’t do anything without him being right there beside you just to do it for you. You appreciated the help, but it’s not like you were on bed rest, you could still do things on your own. You couldn’t blame anyone for him being so protective, the only thing you could blame was the internet. He had been looking up what changes your body went through during the many weeks of your pregnancy, and he happened to stumble across the complications that could occur as well. That’s when you got your very panicked, very helpful, and slightly irritating Jisung.

By the time you reached the third trimester though, you were so exhausted and your back ached so badly that you didn’t even mind it anymore. He had managed to get the rest of the guys in on helping you too, especially if he was in the studio for a long period of time- which was anything longer than 45 minutes -he’d have one of them check up on you and see if you needed anything.

When he was home or when he got home, he’d shower you in attention and affection, kissing you first before pressing a kiss to your stomach and asking how your day has been, although his gaze would be focused solely on your stomach, absolutely mesmerized by the way your stomach looked when his daughter would move. He loved the way she reacted to his voice, you on the other hand could never get comfortable, although you once again, would never tell him that. He just looked so happy, and he’d get so excited, telling everyone how his baby girl recognized his voice and would move whenever she heard him.

Of course, she decided to stay in for a little longer than the expected 40 weeks, and by the 41st week you were begging the doctors to induce you. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to use the bathroom or take a shower without Jisung being right outside the door asking if you were okay or if you needed help every 5 seconds. He really did mean well, but you couldn’t wait for your daughter to be out so that you’d be able to not only get some peace, but also some privacy where you needed it most.

It was all worth it though when you saw Jisungs face light up at the sight of his daughter when she was born. Tears of joy streamed down his face as his hands seemed to automatically reach out for her, his lips formed into a circle, absolutely amazed at the fact that this, not so little, baby just came from you. If there had been nothing else to prove to you how good of a father he would be, this moment, the moment she was placed into his arms and you could just see it in his face, his entire world was complete now… He was going to be the best father.

///

5 years seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and the little baby girl that would once curl up in yours and Jisungs arms to fall asleep, your little cuddle bug, was now a ball of energy that would whip around the house being the biggest goofball, much like her father, to bring a smile to people's faces. She was the life and the light of any room she went into, but at night, when she’s run out all of her energy and she’s tuckered out, you and Ji will catch a glimpse of your little baby girl, curled up in the middle of his and your bed.

She was more energetic than usual, but that’s because it was her birthday. Her party wouldn’t be until the weekend, but you still wanted to do a little something special to celebrate the official day. Jisung had to work, but he didn’t want to get stuck at the office so he decided to work from home so he could just pack up his laptop and not deal with the commute, he’d be right at home with you and Jisoo when he was done.

It was hard to keep her occupied, she was so excited and she knew she had presents to open, and you were trying to not only prepare her favorite dinner but also make cupcakes for her. There was so much to do, and you were doing it all on your own so that Ji could work. You were one person, you only had 2 eyes, although a lot of people joke and say that mothers have eyes on the backs of their heads, it seemed like those eyes were focused on the timer on the oven to make sure the cupcakes didn’t burn. That’s why you didn’t realize that she had, at some point, strolled into Jisungs makeshift office/studio.

“Daddy.” She said, standing right beside him, tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie to try to get his attention. Her smile was wide, two little dimples adorning both of her cheeks as she looked up at him with the brightest eyes. He sighed harshly through his nose, pulling out one of his earphones to look down at her. “You coming now?” She was completely oblivious to the glare that her father was wearing, or at least, she was oblivious to the fact that it was directed entirely towards her.

“I’m really busy right now, go bother your mother or something.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he tried to turn his attention back to his computer, but Jisoo wasn’t going to allow it. She tugged on his sleeve again, her mouth open to say something else, but Jisung spoke before she could. “Get out. You’re such a burden sometimes, Jesus Christ!” He seethed, his head falling back as he let out a loud groan.

Jisoo wasn’t oblivious anymore, no, she was heartbroken, and quite honestly confused. She quickly scurried away from him, sniffling softly as she ran out of the room. Neither you or Jisung had ever yelled at her, let alone raised your voices around her. She was shocked, she was devastated, and she immediately ran to you.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You dropped everything you had been doing to scoop her up and set her on the counter top, working quickly to wipe away the tears that poured down her puffy little cheeks. Your immediate worry was that she had hurt herself, your eyes scanning over her head, her face, her arms, and her legs to look for any visible signs of scrapes or bruises, but there were none. “Did you get a booboo?”

Her head shook quickly, her hair whipping around her face as she did before dropping her head. She looked embarrassed, and if she had known the word and what it meant at her age, she’d tell you that that’s exactly how she felt. “I try to tell Daddy that it my birthday…” She started, her sentences broken up by shaky breaths and loud sniffles. “He yell at me… told me get out… He say I a bird hen… I not even know what that means…”

She might not know what it meant, but you sure as hell knew what he meant, and you were pissed. “You’re not a bird hen, honey. You’re wonderful, and I know that daddy didn’t mean to yell. He just gets lost in his computer sometimes. He loves you though, and mommy loves you too.” You pressed a big, wet kiss to her forehead, trying and succeeding in getting her to giggle so that you could get her mind off of being upset. “How about you go play with your dolls in your room so that I can decorate your cupcakes and they’ll be a surprise. How’s that sound, huh?”

Jisoos smile was back once more, her hands clapping together as you helped her off the counter. You watched her run to her room, her door being shut fast, and rather loud, in her hurry to let you start on her surprise. Truth be told, you just didn’t want her to listen to you talking to Jisung, not just because you didn’t want her to think about it again, but also because the language you were planning on using wasn’t going to be kid friendly at all.

It took everything in you not to just storm into the room and start yelling, but you knew that would draw her attention, so you walked in as calmly as possible, even though it felt like your blood was boiling. He only made things worse for himself when he let out a sound of annoyance, yanking his earphones out and slamming his hands on his desk. “Oh my god! Wh-”

“You shut the fuck up and you listen to me you son of a bitch.” You hissed the words through clenched teeth, taking one look behind yourself to make sure Jisoo hadn’t come out of her room before storming over to him, your finger pointed and only an inch from his face. “If you ever make my baby cry like that again, I will personally pack all your shit up and throw you out of this fucking house, you hear me?”

The momentary shock wore off almost instantly, and he was quickly defensive, although he did back away just a little before he spoke. “You knew I was working. I thought you were going to watch her, but I guess I was wrong about that. I should have just gone into the office today, I would be able to get shit done.”

The fire that was burning inside you, pure rage that had your blood bubbling, it was like it had built up to the top of your body, completely blinding you with rage and all you could see was red as you slammed his laptop shut before picking it up and shoving it against his chest. “Then go to the fucking office, Jisung! Nobody wants you here anyway!” You shouted, your chest rising and falling heavily with each breath that you took.

“Fine! I’ll be able to actually get something done! Don’t expect me to come home tonight either, I’m not gonna get yelled at because I’m trying to do my job so I can afford everything that you and Jisoo want!” He yelled right back at you, pushing himself up out of the desk chair and grabbing the rest of his things off of the desk. There had never been a time, up until now, that you had ever wanted to hit him, but your hands were twitching, your entire body was shaking. You wanted to hurt him, not because of the way he was talking to you though, it was the complete sense of disregard that he had for his own daughter. It made you physically sick.

“I don’t want you to come back tonight. I don’t want you to come back at all. But you will go tell your daughter that you’re not going to be here to celebrate her birthday with her, and you’re going to be honest and tell her that your job is once again more important than her.” You hissed, finally taking a step back before motioning to the door with your hand. “Now get the fuck out.” He didn’t move though, he was completely frozen and all of the color drained from his face.

“Fuck… Baby, listen-”

“I said get out! Go! Do your job! Leave!” You were shouting once again, and you hated that you cried when you got angry, it made you feel weak, especially when your voice would crack and break when you were trying to sound strong. He continued to stand there though, looking absolutely defeated. “Please… Just leave… It’s obvious, work will always be more important to you. It’s like deja vu.”

“That’s not true at-”

“Mommy…” Jisoos voice came from behind you, and you quickly turned around to face her, trying to force yourself to smile. She wasn’t blind though, she could see that you were crying, and she had heard you and Jisung arguing. She quickly ran to you, her little arms wrapping around your waist. “Don’t cry… It okay. We have cupcakes… I help you make them and… And you help me blow the candles.”

You nodded your head as you picked her up, holding her tightly against your chest. There was nothing more comforting than the hug of your own child, to know that they care, and even on a day that should have been all her own, she was still looking out for you.

“We’ll have lots of fun.” You agreed, your throat tightening up and almost choking off your words. “When we finish making the cupcakes and after we eat your yummy dinner, you can open your presents.” It was so hard to look, let alone sound like everything was completely fine, especially when Jisung was still standing there in front of you, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Does… Does daddy still have to do work?” Jisoo asked, glancing up at you and then looking over her shoulder at Jisung. Of course you wanted to say yes, you were absolutely livid, you wanted him out of the house at least long enough for you to have the chance to cool down, but you also didn’t want to send him away, especially if Jisoo still wanted him there. “I sorry I a bird hen, I not come in no more when you working.” With every word that she said, Jisung looked more and more ashamed, his head dropping lower and lower until you couldn’t even see his face anymore. “Please… Stay home. It my birthday… We gonna sing the song… And we eat cupcakes. That make everyone happy.”

Regardless of how you felt, how pissed off you truly were, it was Jisoos birthday, and if she wanted her father there, you weren’t going to still make him leave. Jisung knew this, and while it was a small win that his daughter still wanted him around, he also knew that he had a lot of apologizing to do, not just to Jisoo, but to you as well. “You’re not a bird hen, honey pot.” He murmured, squatting down so that he’d be eye level with her. “I’m a big ol’ dummy head and I’m sorry that I made you sad. Can I have a hug?” His arms stretched out as he asked the question, and as if he hadn’t hurt her feelings at all, she ran into his arms, almost knocking him onto his butt in the process. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna help momma make sure you have the best birthday ever, okay?”

He was really trying his best, he helped you and Jisoo decorate the cupcakes, he even attempted to help you finish making dinner. There was tension there between the two of you, words that had gone unsaid due to Jisoos perfectly timed interruption, but she was none the wiser to the feeling, she was just happy that the both of you were still there to celebrate with her. That’s what was most important anyway, making sure your daughter was happy.

“Hey honey, you wanna see something funny?” Jisung asked, and the little nickname had both you and Jisoo giving him your attention, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him at all. His finger was covered in icing that he had swiped off one of the cupcakes at the center of the table, and he was slowly creeping over to the kitchen where you were plating up dinner for the three of you. “I think momma would look super cute if her nose was bright pink, don’t you, honey?”

Jisoo was laughing already, clapping her hands together as she shouted out her agreement to his question. “Ji…” You warned, trying to retreat from him, but he was closing in fast and there wasn’t much room for escape. “Don’t do it…” You tried to sound stern, but your daughter's twinkling giggles had you cracking a smile, and before you knew it, you were cornered against the counter and Jisung whose finger was inches from your nose.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it off.” He whispered, winking at you playfully, and if you weren’t still harboring irritation from the way he had acted earlier, the action would have had butterflies swarming in your stomach. “Boop!” He chimed as he wiped the icing on the tip of your nose, laughing along with Jisoo now as she ran over to look at you.

“Momma look like a clown!” She said between fits of giggles, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her and Jisung. You loved seeing your daughter happy, it had become your main goal in life, your number one priority, to make sure she was always happy, and if looking like a clown made her smile and laugh the way she was, then you’d dress up like a clown every day for her.

“She’s the prettiest clown, isn’t she?” Jisung asked, and Jisoo nodded in agreement. “But we can’t have clowns at the dinner table, can we?” And the question had your daughter giggling even louder as she shook her head no. “Grab me a paper towel real quick, honey. Let me help momma clean off the clown nose.” He watched her long enough to make sure her back was turned before he cupped your cheeks, playfully licking the icing off your nose and then pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m the biggest clown, and I’m sorry… Thank you for letting me stay… I love you so much.” It all happened extremely fast, his words being rushed out, it felt like he was going 60 miles per hour, and by the time he had finished what he had to say, Jisoo was just heading over with the paper towel sheet and your face was still scrunched up.

“Where momma nose go?” Jisoo asked as she handed Jisung the paper towel, her head tilted curiously to the side.

“I think it just fell off. It’s okay though. Momma is still pretty. I got the two prettiest girls in the world in my house, I’m a lucky guy!” Jisung cheered, and it was painfully obvious that he was doing his best to suck up to you, and it sucked that it was working so well. It was impossible to stay mad at him. That didn’t mean that you weren’t still slightly upset though. You wanted… No, you needed to talk to him.

///

By the end of the night, which lasted longer than any other night, you were exhausted and the argument from earlier had practically been forgotten, at least for now. Jisoo had opened all of her presents, and, even though you and Jisung had promised her that she could play with them in the morning, she had given her best puppy dog eyes and ended up playing with each of her presents for half an hour each, and of course Jisung had gone overboard in buying her gifts.

“Are you coming to bed?” You asked, standing in the doorframe to the bedroom, looking down the hall and into the living room where Jisung was sitting in the armchair, his face hidden in his hands. “What’s wrong?” You knew he hadn’t fallen asleep that quick, he had just carried Jisoo into her bed after she had fallen asleep in the middle of her brand new toy pile.

“She’s going to remember that I yelled at her, she’s going to remember what I said to her for the rest of her life. Deep down, she’s gonna hate me… And I know that you hate me too. I hate me… I can’t believe I said that to her. I was so focused on the computer and… I flipped out on you. I didn’t even deserve to be here with either of you today after what I did… I’m a shitty father and a horrible husband.” He rubbed his hands over his face when he finally lifted his head and you could tell that he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and his nose and his cheeks were blotchy and red.

How long had these thoughts been eating away at him? You wondered if the way he had been acting earlier was actually him sucking up to you or if he was just trying to keep his mind from going to where it was right now. “Ji…” You whispered out his name, and even though you were beyond tired at this point, you couldn’t just go to bed when he was like this. He might have upset Jisoo and pissed you off, but it seemed like he was more angry at himself than both you and Jisoo combined. “Nobody hates you, I could never hate you, and neither could Jisoo. What you did today was fucked up… But I already yelled at you for it, hell, I almost kicked you out for it. But I don’t hate you. I love you too much, and so does your daughter.”

“I hurt her… I made her cry, Y/N. What kind of father am I?”

“You’re the best father a child could ever ask for.” His eyebrows lowered with confusion at your answer, his bottom lip in a seemingly permanent pout as he looked at you. “You made her cry once in her five years of being on this earth. One time, Ji. But you know what you do more than anything else? You make her laugh, you make her smile, you make her feel loved… And you do all of those things for me too. Me and Jisoo are the luckiest girls in the world because we have you.” His pout slowly started to go away, turning into a slight smile as you made your way over to where he was sitting and you dropped down onto his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he nuzzled his face against your back. “Plus, if it makes you feel any better… I’ve made her cry about ten times this week already.”

Jisungs mouth fell open in shock, the entire upper half of his body leaning over so he could look at you. “What?! What did you do to hurt my baby girl?” He asked, and you were sure that right now he was mocking the way you had yelled at him earlier, but you could also see that he was interested in the cause of you making his daughter cry.

“Whenever we go grocery shopping, she asks to go down the toy aisle to look at the toys… And then she ends up wanting everything that she sees, and I have to tell her no. So she cries, and this week especially, I told her that she’ll be getting a whole bunch of new toys, but… You know how she is.” He nodded his head understandingly. “And then… She tells me that whenever she goes shopping with you, that you get her everything she wants.” You turned your head to face him, and now he was wearing a sheepish grin, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. You laughed lightly, squishing his cheeks between your palms and pressing a kiss to his puckered lips. “Do you feel better now?” He nodded quickly, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the living room. “Good, because I’m so tired and I can’t fall asleep without you next to me. Let’s go.”

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mithranon · 6 months ago

Text

Oh! Okay. Actually. A few things.

To get it out of the way: I don't want to say you were implying the cruelty was true. It's clearly just one possible interpretation or reading you can gather. Sorry if that framing was weird.

I think a part of the Demon allegory, while there is the more obvious, is the inevitability of the crash and burn of trying too hard to chase something you are not, hence that. "Free yourself" seemed helpful to my brain and I got the sense of effort because, fundamentally, Thistle is doing what Mithrun was: Seeking something he cannot possibly obtain. It seems better to tell the truth and get it out of the way to me as well, but Thistle is beyond reason and so hearing that only makes it worse because he can't accept the reality. I do also see it as likely to be a statement that was meant to provoke, however.

thinking about this post again, and what malewifesband points out in the reblogs about Mithrun's violence towards Thistle vs his violence towards the shadow governor

i hadn't made that comparison myself before, but it truly is such a striking difference, and because Thistle is my special little guy i've been mulling over it

i think it's interesting that Mithrun's behavior towards Thistle is not only violent and frightening but outright cruel in a way that he isn't even with Marcille

(which is not to say that he isn't violent, frightening, and shitty to her - the whole bit where he catches her out in a lie and then the canaries sit around shit-talking her mom and the fact that she's a half-elf is very bigoted and unpleasant!)

he scares the absolute shit out of Marcille, but his violence is very single-minded and directed. first, he's trying to get the books off her. then, he's trying to kill her.

with Thistle... it almost feels like Mithrun is toying with him. take a chunk out of his arm so he drops the book. take a chunk out of his thigh when he tries to run and grab it. chokeslam him to the ground and get on top of him and say The Cruelest Possible Shit to him after tormenting him physically like a cat with a bird.

now of course, we can justify. he didn't want to risk killing Thistle outright (although then we get into the questionable territory of "would being sent to the surface kill him anyway?" since he says the dungeon lord has their lifespan extended by the dungeon, and that teleporting Thistle to the surface would confirm if he is or isn't the dungeon lord), or he can't be so precise when he isn't able to touch someone and he's using his magic on them from a distance, especially with his lack of depth perception or whatever, you know

he hurts Thistle, who comes across like someone who's not used to experiencing a lot of physical pain, and then he tells him that the person he's dedicated himself to is dead, there's no point to continuing, and that the most cherished person in his life wished for his death

i do think that Mithrun, on some level, genuinely does want to prevent other people from suffering his fate, whether that means preventing them from becoming the dungeon lord in the first place or convincing them to give it up before they're devoured and left alive but empty. however, i also think (thanks to talking with @schniggles) that on a much deeper, more viscerally subconscious level, he wants to be eaten, and when those two desires come into conflict, the desire to die is stronger and results in what can at best be described as half-assery and at worst is outright self-sabotage

he tells Thistle there's no point to what he's doing and that it's time for him to free himself. charitably, one can imagine that he sees his words as the equivalent of a brisk slap to the face to snap Thistle out of his dungeon lord hysteria. but the thing about Mithrun is that it's not that he doesn't understand social conventions or other people's feelings, he just doesn't care

he didn't suddenly forget the concept of being nice or being cruel, or what it means to hurt someone's feelings. he just doesn't give a shit. it's not important to him. he lacks the desire to even make the effort for appearance's sake.

it's not like he doesn't know that telling the Melinis' elf slave that Delgal is dead, he never said what Thistle says he did and Thistle just misunderstood, and that Delgal wished for Thistle's death is going to fuck Thistle up. he doesn't care about how badly it hurts and he either hopes that the pain will make Thistle stop resisting or that hurting and tormenting Thistle this way will drive him to summon the demon. possibly (probably) both.

i don't really have much of a thesis statement here, just i guess an exploration of my thoughts... Mithrun is deeply cruel to Thistle and it's quite easy to imagine that part of this is because he knows Thistle has no status and no powerful friends, that he feels no need to even pretend to treat Thistle as a person... one could also easily imagine that it's because he's trying to provoke Thistle into summoning the demon, and one could ALSO easily imagine that there's an element of self-loathing to it, that in a sense he's punishing Thistle for his own past

#this is it #maybe #i feel like i had another explanation for a point that i didn't detail in the original but ?#if i did i do not remember it #i wonder if he would lessen him in his mind too because i don't necessarily think so #like his racism seems mostly to be a piece of his past that isn't with him now #i mean there are likely remnants and yeah he said they used to call the short lived races inferior #but i didn't get the sense of that as active bigotry and more like 'i don't care' and 'you asked me what they called them so i answered'#i think he experiences personal satisfaction and probably has prejudice to work out but #i don't think he's. you know. still bigoted or feeling better than the other races #and i feel like how he treats kabru - takes him seriously + sense of respect that is formed by this & then reciprocated - shows that #he is the only elf who takes him seriously so i think that kind of says that he doesn't think of them as lesser because if he did #then he would just have no reason at all to give him the time of day #but then i don't know i suppose actually you could argue the opposite - that taking him seriously is seeing him as a threat - which is valid #i sort of think it could be the recognition of a fake people pleasing persona and essentially mithrun sees through it because #real knows real? no #fake knows fake #but that's just one interpretation #i feel like he probably does say out of pocket things he absolutely SHOULD NOT but i can also see him apologizing easily and adjusting #the same as he did when senshi told him what he needed to hear

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newtthetranswriter · 9 months ago

Note

Hihi saw your post about wanting request so thought I'd send one!!!

How about a drabbles of Finral, Zora, Klaus, and Nozel would react to someone flirting with them in front of their s/o /someone putting their s/o down to make themselves look better??

Lots of love and hope ya get more request! ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ✧

Parings & Word counts: Finral x Reader 957 words, Zora x Reader 882 words, Klaus x Reader 985 words, Nozel x Reader 690 words

Warning: Bullying, mentions of alcohol, if I missed anything please let me know

A/n: Hello, thank you so much for requesting. I enjoyed writing this especially because there is not enough love for the Black Clover men out there. I went with a gender neutral reader as you didn’t specify so I hope that’s fine. I also kind of split the prompts, Finral and Kalus are reacting to someone putting down their s/o and Zora and Nozel are someone flirting with them in front of their s/o. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

Finral:

Finral may have a history of being a playboy but that all changed. After you agreed to go out with him, he flipped his script real fast. The only person he had eyes for was you, going as far as telling Langris he was no longer interested in Lady Finesse and wishes them both well. Having you as a partner was like a dream come true for him, you didn’t care that he was the disgraced son of the Vaude family, or that his magic was only good for support. You just wanted him to be happy and You helped him feel more confident in himself and his abilities.

For the first time in his life finral actually felt secure in a relationship and would do everything in his power to keep the relationship healthy. So, imagine his shock when he notices you shying away from his affection while out on a date. Normally he could hold your hand, kiss your cheeks or hold you to his side as you walk through the markets of Kikka, but for some reason you pulled away every time he tried to show affection.

“Hey, Y/n is everything okay? You normally don’t mind holding hands and stuff.” He asked quietly, sounding almost scared that he did something wrong or misunderstood what you were comfortable with.

Before you could respond another voice Finral did not recognize, started to speak. “Well if it isn’t Y/n, when you said you were joining the Magic Knights I thought you'd at least try but I guess the Black Bulls are probably the only squad willing to take a weakass mage like yourself.” Turning his attention to the person who so rudely interrupted his date, the spacial mage could quickly tell this was some pompous noble. What he couldn’t tell though was how they knew you and why they were being rude.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Finral asked, his tone showing he was not pleased at all with how this person was acting.

Scoff in offense the noble spoke again. “Don’t take that tone with me. I’ll have you know, I’m Claire Elric, you know the family of mages who specialize in Alchemy magic.” The snob, Claire identified herself. “And I was talking with an old friend. I suggest you mind your own business but then again judging from your robe you’re also a Black Bull so you probably don’t understand respect.” Claire stated matter of factly.

Rolling his eyes, Finral spoke again. “It was a rhetorical question, you could be the king’s kid for all I care, it doesn't give you the right to talk down to people for no reason.” He started not having the patience for assholes. “Y/n is a powerful mage, and works hard everyday to help our squad get better. Not only that but they are extremely kind and caring, so I suggest you treat them with respect.”

Having been silently watching from behind Finral since Claire first spoke, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face. Finral was never the confrontational type, but here he is defending you from one of your life long bullies. Being behind him though you could also tell from the look on her face that Claire was ready to snap, and it would probably be best to leave before stuff goes south. “Finral, we should just go. It’s not a big deal, she’s right anyway the Bulls are the only squad that would take a mage like me.” You said gently pulling at his sleeve trying to get him to drop it and go.

Sadly your pleas were left unanswered as Finral was not going to stand for someone convincing his lovely partner they were less than perfect. “No Y/n, we aren’t leaving just yet. Not until this ass realizes that it’s not a bad thing you are part of the Black Bulls.” He said looking over at you before turning back to the now scowling noble. “Like I said before Y/n is a valuable member of our Squad and any other Squad would be lucky to have them. But Judging from your lack of any squad robe, you weren’t even good enough for any, so instead of spending your time looking down on others who have done more than you, maybe you should try being a better person.”

Claire’s scowl went from mildly upset to pissed real fast. Before she could even think to respond Finral quickly used his magic to open a small portal at the noble’s feet and watched as she fell through it. You looked at him shocked before speaking. “One, thank you for standing up for me. Claire has been a bully since we were young. And two, where the hell did you send her?” You were grateful she was gone but you hoped it wasn’t going to lead to problems for you later.

“Oh I just sent her to the farthest place I could without using too much mana. Don’t worry she’ll be fine though it may take her a while to get back, I hear Hage is a few days walk from castle town.” He said with a smirk. “And I’ll alway defend you, no one should talk down to you for any reason. I mean it, you are an amazing and valuable member of the Black Bulls. I know I for one would be lost without you.” With that Finral pulled you into his side, placing a kiss on your forehead before continuing throughout the market. You would probably get a complaint later about Finral stranding a noble in the forsaken realm, in a few days but hey that’s nothing new for the Black Bulls, plus Yami will probably find it funny.

Zora:

Finding time for the two of you to go and enjoy yourselves while being part of the Black Bulls is a hassle. Hell even days off aren’t off limits from chaos as Asta proved when he went to Nean and had a run in with The Eye of the Midnight Sun. So the moment Captain Yami even started to say it was time for everyone to have a day off, you and Zora were out of the hideout and without a second thought.

You guys made your way to a village where hopefully none of the crazier members of the squad would end up and made sure you weren’t followed. Peace and quiet in the misfit squad were hard to come by so you weren’t risking it. Making your way to the local pub, you and Zora sat at a small table only big enough for two and as far from the crowd that had gathered. Planning to enjoy a nice lunch before walking the town and just being together.

Unfortunately maybe the pub was not the best idea for a lunch date. You guys had agreed on it because it would be cheaper than one of the cafes or restaurants around the village. What you hadn’t factored in was the numerous drunkards who either just started their day of drinking or were still there after their night of drinking. In all honesty it took longer than one would expect for one of these drunks to cause a problem but hey it still happened.

You had been mid-sentence about how you hid Magna’s flan the other day and blamed Luck, just to cause some trouble, when some drunk lady stumbled over to your table. “Ex-cuse me, but could I of-ffer you a drink?” The lady said eye one Zora’s shirtless torso, completely ignoring you and the fact Zora could not look less interested in her.

“No. Anyway, Y/n next time we should go a step further instead of just hiding Magna’s food we should -” Zora started plotting how to mess with the resident idiots after turning down the drunk. Only to get halfway through his thought before Drunky spoke again.

“Come o-on handsome, I’m ssure I can give you a great time.” She slurred as she tried to get his attention. Zora just rolled his eyes and tried to ignore her. “Don’t be like thaat, I just want to ssee whatss behind that mask.” The Drunk was clearly to far down the drain to realize she had zero chance.

Being totally done with the lady you decided to take it on yourself to get her to leave. “Hey drunky, he’s not interested. Also we are kinda in the middle of a date and I would appreciate it if you left my boyfriend alone.” You said, making it clear you did not want to deal with her while still being somewhat polite. The lady just scoffed at you before turning back to Zora.

“I know I can give you bett-tter time then this buzz kill.” She said now leaning on the table. You were trying to hide your frustration, when the drunk did something that made the normally calm mage across from you let out his own frustration. While trying to seduce him by running her fingers along his jaw, the lady had the nerve to try and pull his mask from his face.

Standing probably faster than you’ve seen him move in while, Zora completely loses his cool. “Do not touch me and definitely do not touch my mask. We tried to be polite but you leave me no choice. No one would want anything to do with a hopeless drunk who has nothing better to do than interrupt a couple on the first date they’ve had in months, and then touch one of them without permission after being told twice to leave.” The whole time he spoke he had the lady’s wrist in his hand, not a tight enough grasp to break it or leave lasting damage but it was clear from his white knuckles there would likely be a bruise.

Deciding it’s probably best for Zora to not catch an assault charge for possibly injuring a civilian on day off, you step in. Resting a hand on his shoulder you spoke up. “Hey, let's just go back to the hideout. I know we wanted peace and quiet but that clearly isn’t gonna happen here.” Zora thought for a second before dropping the lady’s wrist and wrapped his arm over your shoulders leading you out of the pub ignoring the eyes of the few patrons who weren’t unconscious.

“Sorry our date got ruined by that lady.” You apologized hoping to ease some of the tension clear on Zora’s face.

He just shook his head. “Not your fault. I think we should just accept the madness we deal with. I mean where’s the fun in life if someone isn’t being crazy.” Zora made a valid point.

Chuckling as you made your way back to the Black Bulls’ base. “You’re right, if we wanted quite we probably shouldn’t have joined the Black Bulls of all squads.” You laughed as you reached the hideout and were greeted with the tell tale yelling from Magna and Luck fighting over who knows what this time.

Klaus:

Being at the Golden Dawn’s base was intimidating to begin with, now add not being a member of the top squad and it feels like even breathing wrong could get you yelled at. Luckily you were only there to get your boyfriend for the date you had planned, it was rare that you got the same days off so you liked to take advantage of it whenever you could. Normally, Klaus would either meet you at the date location or come get you from your base, but for some reason he had requested you meet at the Golden Dawn’s headquarters.

You had been greeted at the door by Mimosa who said Klaus was just finishing up a quick meeting with the Captain and then he’d be ready to go. While waiting Mimosa offered to sit and chat so you didn’t feel so out of place, your Black robe standing out in the sea of golden ones. Accepting the offer you and Mimosa sat by a window enjoying some tea while chatting about recent missions and laughing at some stories of Klaus making a fool of himself over Asta.

Completely engrossed in Mimosa’s story about how concerned Klaus was when they found Asta passed out in the cave near Nean, you failed to notice the green haired mage approaching the two of you. “Yes, he really said he was only worried because if Asta was hurt then you would be upset and he didn’t want to see you cry.” Mimosa said holding in laughter also not noticing her Squadmate approaching.

“When did we start letting the riff raff lounge around our base?” Letoile said, as she looked at you with what could only be described as disgust.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean by that Letoile?” Mimosa asked, confused why her squadmate would say something like that.

The compass mage scoffed. “I mean, when was it okay for a Black Bull to just hang around the Golden Dawn’s base, shouldn’t they be with the other commoners and criminals?” Every word that came out hurt, sure you had heard it all before, the Black Bulls weren’t exactly the most respected squad, but this time it felt personal.

Mimosa watched as the color drained from your face, she could tell you were debating leaving even before Klaus was ready to go. “Y/n has every right to be here. They may not be a member of this squad but they are still a Magic Knight. Besides they’re waiting on Klaus, it’s not like they’re trying to move in.” The royal tried to defend you, but it seemed her words only gave the other woman more fuel for her fire.

“Oh that’s right, you’re Klaus’s charity case. The little commoner who barely managed to help save him in that dungeon. I don’t know how you convinced a noble like him to go out with you but he could do so much better. I mean he’s surrounded by powerful mages everyday and he picked a weak peasant like you. You probably used some forbidden spell to get his attention, huh?” Letoile said with a pointed look, clearly enjoying the clear turmoil on your face. She paused trying to think of more insults, hoping to find the one to get you to run off.

Unfortunately for her, it was at that moment a certain purple eyed mage decided to clear his throat. Everyone froze, Klaus may be calm and collected most of the time but when he’s upset it can get scary. “I don’t know what you think you gain from being rude to my partner, Letoile but I suggest you apologize and then leave them alone.” He said voice never changed from his usual calm and strict tone. The green haired mage mumbled a quick apology and quickly ran off. Klaus then turned to Mimosa. “Thank you Mimosa for keeping them company while I was busy, and for standing up for them as well.” The red head nodded and quickly bid farewell before giving you to space.

“So how much of the interaction did you see?” You asked quietly as Klaus moved to help you stand from the table you were sitting at.

“The whole time, I heard you laughing about Mimosa’s retelling of what happened in Nean and was going to join you before she said much else when I saw Letoile approach. I wanted to see what she wanted.” He explained with a slight frown. “I’m sorry I should have stepped in sooner, I was curious to see how other members of the squad would react to you when I wasn’t present.” It was clear from his tone that he was truly sorry for the things his team mate said.

Resting a hand on his arm you spoke up. “It’s fine Klaus, sure what she said hurt but having you and Mimosa stand up for me means a lot. In all honesty I’ve heard worse, I’m a Black Bull after all.” Hearing you laugh at your last comment brought a smile to his face.

“Are you sure you’re okay, you looked close to crying or running?” He asked as he pointed out how clear it was you had been uncomfortable.

“Yes I’m fine. I can’t say what she said didn’t hurt but knowing how much you truly support me and seeing how much you’ve changed since meeting me and Asta, I know everything she said was out of jealousy.” You answered, now enjoying the look of slight confusion on his face.

“Jealousy? What do you mean?” Klaus was truly perplexed.

“Yeah, She’s just jealous I got the best guy and I didn’t even have to try.” You said, finishing the statement placing a kiss to the steel mage’s cheek. Klaus at a loss for words, his face bright red from the kiss, just held your hand and guided you out of the base towards the originally planned date.

Nozel:

To put simply Nozel is clueless when it comes to people flirting with him. To even start dating you had to straight up say you liked him and wanted to go on a date. That being said he is the most thoughtful man ever in a relationship. Believing that his partner deserves the world and all of his focus. So when a random member of his squad started flirting with him, he had no idea.

The first couple of times you had been out either on missions or just running a few errands, so you weren’t there to tell him this girl wasn’t just being kind to him but in fact trying to seduce him. Sure his younger siblings had been around and tried to tell him after the girl had left that she was flirting with him, but he only has eyes for you and in his eyes it’s clear he’s off limits, so surely Solid and Nebra are seeing things.

He only realizes that his siblings were right when the same girl came up and started flirting with him, while at a feast the Silver Eagles were holding for some reason. You and Nozel were sitting together having a conversation about how he should try being nicer to Noelle, when little miss heart eyes popped up.

“Hello Captain Nozel. How’s your day going?” The girl asked clearly unfazed by the glare both the captain and you gave her at the interruption. After hearing the quick fine breathed out by the now eerily calm Captain, she kept speaking. “That’s good to hear, I spent the day training and was thinking maybe you could give me some pointers on how to be more effective in combat?” She asked, twirling her hair and trying to act cute.

Nozel being clueless, and just annoyed that his conversation was interrupted by idle chatter mumbled a sure and turned to go back to his previous discussion. “Wow Captain, you are probably the best Captain there is, being willing to train even the lowest members of your squad. I can’t wait to learn from such an amazing mage.” The silver haired Captain just nodded and made to look back at you. “Do you do this for all your squad mates or am I just that special to you Nozel?” The girl went from subtle flirting to not trying to hide real quick.

“Honey I hate to break it to you, but Nozel is like this with everyone. He stopped listening to your squeaky ass voice the second you interrupted our conversation.” You said being done with the girl’s clear lack of care for those around her. “Besides take it from the person he’s dating, flirting will get you nowhere. Now if you don’t mind Me and my boyfriend here are gonna leave and if I hear even a suggestion that you’ve been flirting with him again you will wish you never looked in his direction.” With that you stood up, Nozel following without protest because he just wanted some peace.

“She wasn’t flirting with me was she?” He asked as you exited the dining hall making your way to your room at the Silver Eagles Base.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how clueless he could be. “Nozel honey, it was so painfully obvious to everyone she’s been flirting with you. Hell your siblings have told me previously that she’s done it and those two are so absorbed in their own delusions of greatness I’m shocked they noticed before you.” He just stared at you perplexed as he really thought, his siblings were fucking with him. Thinking for a moment he just nodded in acceptance entering your shared room ready to call it a night. “You know, for a Magic Knight Captain, you are really clueless sometimes. I’m sure even Fuegolen could have been able to tell she was flirting and that man can’t understand sarcasm.”

Hearing the mention of his rival Nozel glared at you as he undid the braid at the front of his hair. “Not funny.” He said full of seriousness, but from the slight smile he knew you were only joking.

#x reader #black clover x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel x reader #nozel x gn!reader #zora ideale x reader #Zora x reader #Zora x gn!reader #finral x reader #finral roulacase x reader #Finral x gn!reader #Klaus lunettes x reader #klaus x reader #klaus x gn!reader #newt writes #answering requests

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heli-writes · 9 months ago

Text

A dragon's heart, part 10.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of forceful behaviour towards women, bad family dynamics

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Sorry, folks! No smut yet, I need some more time to build up the right moment!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's silly to cry about this, isn't it? No, yeah, it's definitely not silly.

Y/n rubs her eyes. She's standing lost in the abandoned tent in the middle of the pieces of Katsuki's tantrum. Slowly, she starts picking up the things Katsuki has thrown across the room.

It will be alright. You can trust Katsuki. Whatever happened today, it's not your fault and Katsuki knows that. He might get irritated easily but he's not unreasonable.

When y/n is done picking up the pieces of the destroyed chair, she's unsure what to do next. She decides to scrub off the paint in the stone hut. There's only cold water this time but y/n grinds her teeth and scrubs it all off. Afterward, she feels a little bit like herself again.

Back in the tent, she loses the clothes as well. She looks for her dress but she can't find it. This upsets her more than it should. After all, it's just a piece of fabric, she tells herself. Then again, it was her mother's dress. The last thing that connected her with her people.

My bag!, she thinks and looks for it where she dropped it the night before. She finds it next to the bed. She dumps the contents on the bed and looks at the things she's brought along. She takes the small knife and strokes over the carvings in the wooden handle. Her father made it for her for her twelfth birthday. He wanted to paint it one day, but he passed before he ever got the chance.

She remembers her father. He was a kind but firm man. He believed in the way of their people. Y/n remembers how he used to take her and her brother to a meadow in the middle of a summer night. He showed the kids how the fireflies light up when you run through the grass. He dared them to catch one and when they did, he explained to them how every creature was created by the great being of things and therefore should be treated with respect. He made y/n let go of the fireflight she caught and they watched as it disappeared into the night sky.

Y/n clutches the knife. She didn't notice how tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she brushes them away. She shakes her head. Thinking about this, won't change the present. Carefully, she places the things back into her bag and hides it beneath the bed, so that they won't be taken away again like her dress.

She slips out of the skimpy clothes she was put into this morning and puts on the clothes Katsuki gave her yesterday. Also, she wraps a blanket around her since she's planning to go outside. I'm going to look for Katsuki, she determines.

~*~*~*~*~

It's strange walking around the village without Katsuki by her side. Y/n feels a lot more vulnerable without him. Again, there are only men outside the tents and they give her strange looks. She's sure they are talking about her, too.

She tries to shake the thought off when she slips in between two tents to get out of sight. Suddenly, a cold hand grabs her arm.

„A-are you new? When did they bring you in?“, a scared female voice says next to her.

Y/n feels instant relief. Finally, someone who understands her! And a woman too! She turns around to the voice and is instantly stunned.

There's a woman standing at the entrance of a tent. She's about y/n's height. The woman is pale as if she barely sees the sunlight. She looks sickish in a haggard way. Her state is nothing but alarming to y/n.

„Yes, I am. I just arrived yesterday. Are-“, y/n tells her and before y/n can ask her if she's alright, the woman's grip on her arm tightens.

„Did he do it already? The man that took you? Is he near? Is he looking for you?“, the woman asks frantically. There is fear in her eyes.

„Uhm, what do you mean?“, y/n replies uncertainly.

„You need to get away!“, the woman tells her, now grabbing both of y/n's arms. „If he hasn't taken you, you might still have a chance!“

The woman's eyes are ripped open widely and y/n can see how bloodshot they are. She mustn't have slept for days. Y/n tries to wiggle out of the woman's hold.

„I-i'm fine. Thanks for your concern, but-“, y/n tries to shake her off.

„Nadia!“, a voice barks from the side y/n came from. A big, bulky man walks their way. His face looks angry. He continues to speak loudly in his language. The woman winces and lets go of y/n. She quickly retreats back into the tent, leaving y/n alone outside.

The man gives y/n a glance before disappearing into the tent. His loud voice can be heard in the inside. By the tone of his voice, he must be scolding the woman. Y/n isn't sure if that's her cue to disappear like the woman said.

Eventually, the man comes back outside. He doesn't look as angry as before anymore. He says something to y/n that she doesn't understand.

„U-uhm, I'm a friend of Katsuki, I guess. Do you know where he is?“, she asks him and the man looks annoyed. He throws his arms into the air in frustration and rambles something to himself.

Y/n straightens her posture a bit at tells him in a determined voice: „Katsuki“.

The man gives her an uncertain look. Then he grabs her shoulder and makes a gesture to follow him. Y/n does so. The man drags her through half of the village, stopping here and there to talk to people. Y/n can hear the word „Katsuki“ quite often, so she guesses he is asking around where Katsuki is. Eventually, the man makes her walk quite a while outside of the settlement and y/n starts doubting her decision to follow him. What if the woman was right? What if that guy really has something bad on his mind?

The man leads her into a small gorge. Y/n can see how smoke rises from the inside, so she guesses humans must be there as well.

Turns out her guess was kind of wrong. The deeper they get into the gorge, the more clearly it becomes what lives her: dragons. When the first comes into sight, y/n walks a bit closer to the man in front of her. More and more dragons come into sight. Golden ones, blue ones, green ones. Y/n thinks the deep black ones look the scariest. She tries to avoid eye contact with all of them. Also, she wonders if Katsuki's great red one is here. Actually, she'd be really relieved to see the great red one again right now. At least one familiar face, or snout, around here.

The man leads her all the way in, where a small fire is lit. More men sit around it drinking and laughing.

The men cheer and gesture for the man to join him but he declines with a wave of his hand. He says something to them and y/n hears Katsuki's name again. She peeks behind the man and sees Katsuki sitting among the men around the fire. When Katsuki spots her, he immediately gets up.

Katsuki exchanges a few words with the man before said man turns around to leave. Katsuki grabs her shoulder and gives her an angry look. Seems as if he's not too happy that I'm here, y/n thinks.

The men laugh and say something to Katsuki to which he gives them a snarky reply. Katsuki leads her to the fire and motions for her to sit down. Y/n does so and wraps the blanket around her a little bit more tight. The man called Kirishima asks Katsuki something and points at y/n. Katsuki shrugs indifferently.

Kirishima fills a mug with something that's been brewing over the fire and hands the mug to y/n. Y/n takes a sniff. It's definitely alcohool. She takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised.

„Mead!“ she exclaims. The men cheer and raise their cups to her. Y/n does so too and takes another sip. The mead is sweet and rich in her mouth.

Kirishima laughs and says something to her. Y/n smiles. Somehow, this feels comfortable. Like when her people sat around the fire at night drinking some hot mead to keep warm. It's the time when stories and memories are shared. Y/n decides there's no harm in sharing a memory of her own, even if these strange men won't understand her.

„You know“, she tells Kirishima, „My aunt used to make mead together with my father“. Kirishima takes another sip from his cup while listening.

„Of course, you need honey for that.“, y/n continues, „So my aunt and my dad went to the woods to find wild honey for their mead. Unfortunately for them, there also was a bear looking for honey too. When my aunt saw the bear, she screamed so loudly that even the bear was frightened, and in his shock, the bear knocked down the bee nest. Of course, the bee attacked my aunt and my dad and they ran home to our camp, screaming the entire way. I've never heard my father scream like that. Like a little girl.“

Y/n is giggling at the end of the story and has to wipe the side of her eye. When she's done, she notices that the rest of the men fell silent and were watching her intently. Suddenly, she's a bit embarrassed for rambling out a story like that.

„Anyways“, she says and raises her cup, „Cheers!“. Quickly she takes another sip and the men start laughing. Y/n feels incredibly embarrassed. A few of the men clap Katsuki's back who also looks embarrassed. Y/n lowers her head. She didn't want to embarrass Katsuki with her stupid story.

Suddenly, she feels Katsuki slide closer to her. He puts an arm around her tucking her safely into his side. Y/n peers up at him. He keeps his eyes fixed on his peers and y/n snuggles a bit deeper into his side. At least he doesn't seem mad now anymore. She keeps slurping her mead until it's empty. Also, she surely feels the buzz. This mead is a lot stronger than the one her aunt and father brewed.

She watches Katsuki for a while who also seems to be done with his cup. Eventually, she pulls at one of his necklaces trying to get his attention. Katsuki lets go of her and looks down at her. He mumbles something which y/n guess is something like a „what?“. She should write that word down later.

„Where's your dragon?“, she asks him. When Katsuki's brows only furrow, she points at a dragon and says „Dragon?“ and then points at him. It seems as if a light goes up in Katsuki's head. He says something to his men and then gets up taking y/n's hand. They leave the fire together and Katsuki leads her to a cave entrance. He gestures for her to stay behind him and y/n does as she's told. The last thing she wants is to wake up an angry dragon. She peeks behind Katsuki and sees the enormous form of the great red right in front of them. Katsuki gestures for her to step beside him.

„Drami“, Katsuki tells her and y/n looks at him uncertainly. Is that the word for dragon in his language?

„Drami.“, y/n repeats and the great red raises its head. Y/n watches with wide eyes how the dragon moves its big head and nudges Katsuki.

„Oi!“, Katsuki exclaims and tries to push the dragon away. Y/n has to giggle at the sight. Is this how she looks when she tries to push Katsuki away but he doesn't move at all?

The great red notices her as well and moves towards her. Fear strikes her even though she knows that the beast probably won't hurt her. The dragon nudges her as well but in contrast to Katsuki, y/n wasn't prepared for the force of the nudge. She stumbles and falls over. There's a grumbling sound in the dragon's throat and she's sure the beast is laughing at her.

„Hey!“, she complaints and sits up.

Suddenly, there are whistling sounds in the air. Then, y/n gets attacked by all sides. Little dragons nudges her from all sides. Pulling on her blanket and hair. It's not painful and when the first shock wears off, y/n has to laugh and she tries to push the little dragon off of her. When she looks up, her eyes meet Katsuki's who have a mischievous gleam in it. He laughs at her and y/n sticks out her tongue to him while fending off the lizards around her.

There's a deeper grumble in the air and the dragons let go off y/n. They rush back to the great red. The small ones have the same color as the great red and when they climb onto it, they become invisible. No wonder y/n didn't spot them before. Katsuki chuckles and helps her up.

„That was rude.“, y/n tells him and tries to rearrange her messy hair. Katsuki picks up the blanket and puts it around y/n's shoulders again. He ruffles her hair and says something to the great red. He gestures for y/n to follow him.

„Bye, Drami!“, y/n tells the great red and quickly follows Katsuki outside.

~*~*~*~*~

After Katsuki says goodbye to his men, he walks back to the village with y/n. She looks ridiculous, he thinks. She lost the nice clothes picked out for her and instead carries this ratched blanket around with her. Is she really that cold? Katsuki and his men walk around shirtless half of the time and even the women in his tribe wear more revealing clothes than the women from the kingdom. It makes him wonder if his mother might be right about y/n.

They walk back in silence and Katsuki notices how uncomfortable y/n feels. He can't blame her. She probably hasn't got a clue about what happened earlier today. He wants to feel sorry for her but can't find it in him to do so. She should man up a bit, he thinks to himself. Otherwise, she will never be accepted around here.

Doubt gnaws at the inside of his mind. He's been replaying the conversation with his mother again and again. The truth is that Mitsuki's right. Y/n isn't strong enough for his people. Physically and probably also mentally. She doesn't fit in. Hell, she doesn't even speak their language. Fine, that's something that can be tackled. Actually, Katsuki already decided that he'll send for Deku. That damn scholar can make himself useful and teach y/n their language.

And yet, Katsuki knows that he needs a strong mate by his side. One that stands strongly and proudly next to him as the leader of his people. Having a weak mate and weak offspring does not help his position. In contrast, it might give people a reason to doubt him. And who knows what the future holds.

So far the king Todoroki turned a blind eye to the dragonblood tribe's raid on his grounds. It's easier to let them take a few women than to fight his men. But how long will that go well? Katsuki already got the news that the king is stocking up his army. His tribe can handle a few strikes of retaliation. However, if it escalates to a full-blown war things look differently. The plague already decimated their numbers and with almost no women in the tribe to even out the number, the future looks grim.

His men did little to cheer him up. While they tried to support his choice, they also gave insight into their own homes. Comparing y/n to the few women they've brought home and mated. Denki's mate passed only after a few months. She lost weight rapidly after arriving in the village and one nasty cold later, the woman completely withered away. Not enough time to give him an heir. Kirishima's position is not rosy either. While his mate is still alive, the woman is terrified of him and that even though Kirishima is probably the softest of the bunch. The other men urge him to just take her since the tribe needs children and that's what the women are brought in for but Kirishima is too kind of a man to touch her against her will.

Kirishima doesn't speak it out loud but Katsuki knows how disgusted the man felt about himself after he mated her for the first time. Other men are not as docile as Kirishima. They take their new mates as they see fit. They think that if their new mate doesn't find it in themselves to accommodate the situation, at least they can submit to them and fulfill their duty as a mate.

Katsuki is so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice how they arrived back at his tent. Only when y/n stops walking, he looks up. One of his mother's ladies-in-waiting is standing in front of his tent.

„Your mother wishes to speak to you. She's inside.“, the woman informs him. Katsuki gives her a nod and puts a hand on y/n's lower back pushing her inside.

„What do you want?“, Katsuki asks his mother upon entering the tent. His mother sits on the remaining chair with her arms and legs crossed.

„Did you mate her yet?“, she poses a counterquestion.

„Obviously not.“, Katsuki tells her. He gives y/n a side-eye and he notices how tense the smaller woman got. Clearly, she must fear his mother by now.

His mother rubs her temple.

„Katsuki, I didn't mean to upset you earlier.“, his mother states. Katsuki lets go of y/n and sits down on one of the trunks.

„I know that.“, he mumbles.

Mitsuki watches as her son uses a knife to scratch off dirt from the underside of his shoe. Meanwhile, y/n stands at the entrance of the room feeling absolutely lost. She feels like she shouldn't be here for this conversation. She tries to make eye contact with Katsuki who keeps his focus on his shoes. Mitsuki sighs loudly making y/n flinch.

„Katsuki, I'm glad you want to take on a mate. I've been afraid you'd refuse one completely. I'm just worried about your future, our future.“, Mitsuki points out. Her voice isn't exactly soft but probably as soft as the former chief can be.

Katsuki stabs the trunk with his knife.

„Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm worried, too?“, he barks at her.

Mitsuki gives her son a pointed look.

„I know you are. Which is more the reason why I don't understand... this.“, Mitsuki says and vaguely gestures towards y/n as if she's a piece of furniture rather than a real person standing in the room.

Looking back at it, y/n doesn't know why that was the reason to get her angry but it does. Y/n decides then and there that she doesn't like the woman who clearly is related to Katsuki. Why does she always pretend like I'm not there, y/n thinks. It makes her angry. It's rude. Also, y/n is pretty sure that his woman has nothing nice to say about her.

Katsuki looks at his mother annoyedly.

„What do you want me to say? I've chosen her. Don't you trust my reasons?“, he tells her.

„Do you trust your reasons? Because if you had, wouldn't you have mated her by now?“, Mitsuki strikes back.

Katsuki feels more and more irritated by each passing second.

„That's none of your business. Or do you also plan to check how often I fuck my mate?“, he bites back.

Mitsuki gives him a piqued look and shakes her head in disgust.

„Seriously, Katsuki. What the hell are you thinking?“, Mitsuki asks him.

Katsuki pushes himself off the trunk and ruffles his own hair roughly.

„I don't know, okay? I met her and we connected. I want her.“, he tells his mother.

„Aha, you want her. If you want her, then take her and pass her on, or let her go.“, Mitsuki replies.

Katsuki gives her an angry look.

„She's different from the other women we brought here.“, he tries to argue.

„In how far?“

Katsuki throws his arms up in the air.

„For one, she's not afraid of us or our dragons. Actually, I think Drami might like her. She's a fighter. I saw her fight a bandit with her bare hands. She can hunt, or at least read tracks to a certain degree. She can treat wounds and she picks up on things quite quickly. I'm sure that if that damn Deku teaches her, she will be speaking...“, Katsuki starts to ramble.

„Stop.“, Mitsuki says coldly and holds up a hand.

„I don't need to hear you sing praise to this woman. Nothing you said proves to me that she will be a good mate to you. You describe basic skills that everyone should have. If you think that...“, his mother continues.

„Can I say something about this?“, y/n enters the conversation. She's sick that she's forced to observe from the sidelines, especially considering that this is a conversation that's clearly about her. Y/n doesn't care that neither Katsuki nor this woman understands her. It's time to give both of them a piece of her mind.

Y/n stems her arm into her hips and points at Mitsuki.

„First of all, who do hell do you think that you are? I don't give a shit if you're their queen or something. My people believe that all humans are equals to one another. Therefore I can't stand how you talk about me pretending I'm not there. Secondly, I might not understand what you say but I'm sure you say very mean things about me. Did nobody teach you basic manners? Like seriously, at least have the decency to talk shit about me behind my back. But making me understand what you think of me without speaking my language? Wow, you must really be determined on making me feel like crap.“, y/n tells Mitsuki while holding eye contact with the woman. Mitsuki looks unpleasantly surprised by y/n's outburst.

„And now to you, mister!“, y/n says turning to Katsuki.

„You drag me all the way to your people, make me do stupid ceremonies that I don't understand and then you let his woman humiliate me in front of all of these people? And after all this, you take me back here just to throw a temper tantrum. What are you? Five? I honestly don't give a fuck about what that woman's issue is. What I do care about is how you handle it. And you're not handling it very successfully, dare I say. You're handling it like a manchild. Drinking your problems away with your buddies only to have another argument with her all over again? Seriously, I start to doubt if I made the right choice in trusting you!“, y/n gives Katsuki an earful.

Katsuki stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Y/n takes a deep breath. She straightens her posture.

„That being said, I exclude myself from this conversation.“, she tells Katsuki proudly with her head held high.

Then, she turns around and stomps outside the tent. Mitsuki stares after her just as perplexed as her son does.

Outside, y/n is fuming. This whole situation frustrates her. Because people talk and decide things over her head. Because she has no way to take any form of action. This time, she doesn't cry.

It's time to find that Nadia woman and get some more information out of her, y/n thinks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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@gold24fish @notsaelty

[I think I can't tag anymore people, sorry! Unless anybody knows what I'm doing wrong...]

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