#she has a step in her ready room just so she can be taller than her crewmates | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

earlysunshines · 3 months ago

Text

downstairs neighbor

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.

warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn

danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.

she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.

hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.

she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.

when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.

“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.

before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.

a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out.

“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?

danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”

the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.

you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.

“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”

the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.

you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—

you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.

“who are you?”

“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up.

“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”

“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”

“you must be new.”

“sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”

you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.

–

danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.

the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.

“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”

“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”

“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”

“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”

“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”

“last night i went down and asked her to–”

“you went to her place? to do what, complain?”

“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle.

“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”

“what?”

“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”

“you’re just going to let this slide?”

“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”

danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.

—

you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough.

as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.

fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.

when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.

“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.

you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”

“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far.

and that’s when you see her.

danielle. she’s sitting just two seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.

of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.

you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.

–

as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.

you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.

“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.

“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.

“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”

“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.

the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.

as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”

“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“who?”

“the girl from friday.”

yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”

“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”

“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”

“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”

yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”

“shut up.”

“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”

“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”

but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”

you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.

“i guess.”

–

the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.

you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second.

these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.

now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”

“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little.

“and if she does?”

“i’ll shut her out again.”

“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”

“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds.

“you’re good at that.”

“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”

your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars.

“not again, i don’t trust myself.”

she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”

“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”

“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.

“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”

“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”

“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.

yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”

“she’s not my— ugh. be right back.”

lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again.

you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.

you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.

“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”

“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.”

she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.

“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.

“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.

you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—

“um, thanks,” you mutter.

“it’s no problem.”

“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?”

she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”

if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.

“right, okay,” you manage to say.

“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.”

“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”

“night then.”

“night?”

she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more.

–

haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.

“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.

“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”

“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”

“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji.

a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.

“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”

“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.

minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”

“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”

danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”

“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”

danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.

“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”

“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”

“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”

“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”

“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”

“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.

“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”

hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.

danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.

hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.

–

there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.

out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.

“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”

“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”

“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”

“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.

“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.

“what?”

she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”

“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”

danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.

“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.

you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.

when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible.

you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

—

for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.

sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.

what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.

after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you.

"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."

"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."

"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”

“yeah…”

“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”

“you’re not into her, are you?”

the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”

“nothing more, right?”

“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”

jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”

you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”

you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”

jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don��t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.

—

even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.

the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.

you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands.

you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed.

you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.

—

the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing.

danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving.

“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log.

danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”

“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”

but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.

minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed.

once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.

she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance.

danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing.

determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.

there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.

danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted.

“y/n?”

“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."

“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”

you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside.

the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected.

you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady.

danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained.

she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.

without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”

“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”

you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.

your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.

but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”

you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.

danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.

she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.

when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”

you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.

she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye.

“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.

you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.

"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."

“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”

she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”

—

you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings.

your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.

there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there.

with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.

you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to.

the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.

you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.

—

danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.

"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."

“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”

“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.

“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”

“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”

“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”

“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.

“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”

you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.

";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”

you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”

“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”

her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."

“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.

“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”

“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”

you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.

you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”

danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”

you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"

“yes?”

“are you free later?”

“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”

“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”

she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”

“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”

danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”

“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”

she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.

“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”

“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.

you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.

#kpop x reader #newjeans danielle #newjeans #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #danielle marsh #danielle newjeans #mo jihye x reader #danielle x reader #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye

554 notes · View notes

prettiestgrlinthemorguexo · 10 months ago

Note

Hi could you do a smut of Adam x fem Reader sex in the shower after a hard day at work

Steamy (Adam x fem! reader smut)

Um, objection, we don’t have bad days, it’s fucking heaven bitch.

No but in all seriousness, I love this idea so I’d happily right this, not a fan of Adam but I can see the appeal, but for my enjoyment he has more pudge on him

NOT PROOF READ!!!

Warnings: smut, fluffy smut, shower sex, make out session,implied artist reader, pudgy Adam, biting, hair pulling, degrading (reader receiving)

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV

Adam was having a bad day, he was usually in this normal, very much arrogant attitude, but he was always sweet to you. So while Y/N was painting away only to hear Adam come storming into your shared home slamming the door and cussing up a storm, Y/N knew something was wrong. Y/N stopped painting, walking towards their bedroom, upon entering the room, Y/N was greeted with the sight of Adam’s horned mask on the other side of the room, clearly thrown and Adam on the bed practically red.

“Adam?” Y/N asked from the door way. Adam sat there his red face in this hands breathing loudly. Y/N walked over to him, as Y/N stood infront of him, she place both hands on his, trying to see his face. “What wrong baby?” Y/N asked softly, a since of worry in her voice. Without speaking Adam was quick to pull them in. Y/N gasped as they were pulled onto him lap, Adam then buried his face into the crook of her neck, arms wrapped around her tight.

Y/N was quick to hold him close, “Adam,” she started today, her fingers running through his hair, “tell me what happened, I wanna make you feel better.” They said softly to him. Adam stayed quiet for a moment before speaking, still clearly pissed off, “just that bitch Sera and her bullshit..” he states, his voice full of bitterness. Y/N sighed and played with his hair, “it’s ok baby..” he said sweetly to him before pulling back, moving to hold his face in my hands, looking at his dark eyes. “How about we shower and play down, just a night of us too?” Y/N suggested.

Adam let out a small sigh and gave a small smile to her, “that’s sounds perfect babe..” Adam said softly, reluctantly letting go of Y/N. As he let her go, Y/N stood up, once on her feet she places her hands on both sides of his face moving his head to look at her. “Say here while I get the shower ready,ok?” Adam gave them a nod she walked to the bathroom.

After a few minutes, the shower was ready, the steam feeling bathroom. Y/N walked back into the room. “Showers ready Baby.” Y/N said to him as he stood up and walked over. He seemed so tired from today.. Y/N could help but think looking at his face, as he walked over I take his hand giving it a small quick, he looks down giving me a small smile, “Thanks hun..” he said softly as we head back into the steamy room.

As they entered the bathroom they were immediately hit with the humidity and the clammy air. Y/N was the first to strip down, removing her clothes before turning back to Adam, only to be meet with his eyes looking over every inch of her body. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him and walk over to him, now standing in front of him. He was taller, much taller than Y/N.

Y/N reached her hands under his rope to feel his body (bro doesn’t wear a shirt under that robe) feeling his soft skin. Y/N looked up at Adam as her hands roam his body, “join me when you’re ready ok?” She said softly to him, he smiled leaning down, kissing her head, “got it..” he said softly before Y/N pulled away getting into the shower

They let the hot water hit her skin, Y/N stood there letting the water in gulf them, their hair becoming wet sticking to her neck and back, it was a relaxing feeling. After a minute, Y/N heard two metals rubbing against each other of the shower curtain be pulled, Y/N turned around to see Adam standing there, looking so handsome. Y/N stepped closer to him, she moved her hands up to his black hair, her fingers running through his wet hair. Y/N was nearly messaging him scalp. Adam let out a low groan, moving his large hands to her hips. He can’t help but lean his body in more, Adam loved her touch. As he leaned his body in, he felt her body pressed against his plush body, he’s fingers squeezing her plump hips.

Y/N hands moved from this hair, down his face and landed on his shoulders, rubbing them. Adams eyes never left her, she was perfect in his eyes, he soon tight his grip on her wet skin pulling her closer, Y/N gasp slightly feel herself get pulled up closer to him, her E/C eyes looking his black orbs. After a moment of the heat building, Adam kissed her deep and passionately, moving his hands to cup her ass picking her up. Feeling the motions, Y/N wrapped her legs around him hips, her arms around her neck, returning the kiss.

The kiss was hot,their wet bodies clinging onto one another. After a few of the make out sessions, Y/N felt something poking their thigh, she felt a shiver go up she spine and let out a soft moan into the passionate kiss, knowing its his harden Length. Y/N felt Adam smile into the kiss as she felt his tip rub against her folds. Y/N moaned, digging her nails into his back before pulling her lips away. “Adam please..” she moaned quietly to him, nails still dug into his back. Adam smiled before leaning into her ear, “be a good girl and bend over for me..” as the words left his mouth he put her back on her feet. Y/N was quick to do what he says, Bernini over, her arms against the shower wall.

Adam was quick to get behind her, nearly towering over her, the water of the shower no longer hitting her skin being blocked by Adam’s body. Adam was quick to tease Y/N more, rubbing his fat time between her folds. His teasing sending shivers down her spine, making her legs shake. “Fuck Adam please…” Y/N moaned out in a near beg, “stop teasing…” Adam couldn’t help but smile, he loved seeing her like this, under time looking so beautiful, he decided to tease her a little more. “Are you sure you want this cock..?” He asked in a cocky tone, pushing his tip a little more pass the folds, teasing her entrance, feeling his fat tip made Y/N arch her back and moan out.

“Fuck yes please..!” She moaned out, wanting, needing him in her tight hole. Adam couldn’t help but smile a cocky grin, “as you wish princess..” he said to her before pushing in, finally feeling her warm walls around his fat cock. The pair both let out a moan as he eases his way into her. Y/N wad are easy shaking from pleasure, no matter how many times they have sex he’s still so big…

After finally putting every inch in her warmth, he was still for a moment before he pulled nearly all the way back out and slammed back in roughly, sending a wave of shock threw Y/N and they yelp at the feeling. Adam smiled as his hands were places on her hips as he began to pound into her wet cunt, feeling her tight hole hugged his cock perfectly, Y/N’s moans were like a symphony in Adams ears, the moans leaving her mouth with near thrust. A mix of cusses and praises fill the steamed filled room.

Adam could feel his pit filling up, know soon he was gonna fill her up, he moved his right hand from her hip, taking his free hand and took a fist full of her hair pull her upper body up. Adam buried his face into her neck, biting down on it, making her moan more. Adam moved his face away from her neck, seeing the bruising bite on her neck, he then moved closer to her ear, “you like taking his cock.?” He asked his tone cocky and horny, his pounds never letting up. “Yes!” Y/N said in an almost scream from pleasure “you like being a cockwhore for me? You like that this cunt belongs to me?” He asked in a near mocking tone, love seeing Y/N like this, his pretty wife..

“Yes! I’m your cockwhore!” She moaned out bitting her lip. Y/N could feel her own pit form more and more in here lower stomach, making her tighten up. Adam could feel her tightening around his cock, he knew this feeling, he knew she was close. He continued to pound away into her at an unholy speed, letting out grunts chasing his own release. “Aw are you close babygirl?” He asked her as he pounded away over and over again, Y/N could barely speak from the pleasure she was feeling, her nodded her head for him, “yes I’m so close..” she said between moans.

“Good girl..” Adam groaned louder as he slammed his hips into her, releasing his seed deep in her, but he didn’t stop he continued to pound, feeling her orgasm grow closer and closer. Adam never let up the speed pounding into her. After a few more thrust she came hard around his cock, he felt her fluids coat his cock and her hole tightened, they both let out moans at the feelings, the euphoric feeling engulfing them both.

They stood still for a moment before he finally pulled out of her, Y/N let out a little whimper as the lost of his cock. Adam help wash off her sweat before picking her up and turning off the water. Adam sat her down on the counter of their shared bathroom. Adam grabbed Y/N a towel and wrapping it around her body before grabbing himself one. “Thank you for helping me baby..” he said placing a kiss on her head. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, even though the rest of heaven saw him as a cocky bastard, he was her cocky bastard that had a soft spot for her. Y/N help his hand giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m gonna be here for you Adam you know that..”

Adam stayed quiet for a moment before speaking softly “you know I love you right?” He said to Y/N rubbing her head. “And I love you Adam..” she said softly to him. Adam smiled before picking her up and speaking.

“How about a round 2?”

Tag list

@kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @aarkhamkknight @pooplyface1423

#x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #fanfic #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam smut #adam x you

580 notes · View notes

oozebrain · 16 days ago

Text

Art x gender neutral Reader. Art and reader are both ND.

Chapter summary: A new neighbor moves into the house beside you. Being the only other kid in the neighborhood, you’re excited to meet him and hopefully make your first friend.

Warnings include: implied child abuse, verbal abuse, abusive parent (mother), angst, ableism (including r slur), swearing. Minors dni.

Laughter in the Dark

Chapter 1

The sound of a moving truck woke you up. You grumble sleepily and pull your covers over your head. It’s so piercing and loud in the quiet. You look to your alarm clock and it reads six thirty in the morning. It’s the weekend and you were looking forward to sleeping in, but with the incessant beeping it was impossible. Once the beeping subsided, you thought there would be peace, but loud banging and thudding followed after.

Annoyed, you toss your blanket off and go to the window to see what has so rudely woken you up. In the yard you see a tall woman and a smaller figure next to her. He seems restless, looking around this way and that as he soaks up his new surroundings. He looks to be about your age and excitement blossomed in your chest.

In a hurry you put on your clothes and comb your fingers through your hair. As you enter the living room you see your mother. She is also getting ready, her own curiosity piqued. You were both nosy, there was nothing that could be done about it.

“Are we going to see the new neighbors?” You ask, pulling on your jacket.

“That goddamn truck woke me up. I’m going over there to ask them who the hell moves in at six in the fucking morning on a Saturday.”

You hoped she wouldn’t. You desperately want to make a good impression. You want a friend, an acquaintance, anything. Anyone. You try to placate her, “Maybe we can all be friends and have cookouts and stuff.”

She ignores you, muttering to herself as she puts on her own jacket and grabs her purse and keys. You silently follow her out the door, the bracing breeze of the fall morning tearing through your neck. You pull your jacket closer, the thin material doing little to actually block out the cold. You’ve gotten used to it over the years but the breezes always managed to rip you up.

The neighbors are less than a few feet away and the pair turn to acknowledge you as you walk up. The boy turns away and retreats by the garage, away from the group that’s been created. Naturally, you separate as well and migrate over to the teenager.

He is gangly and taller than you are. In the cold morning he is bundled up with a jacket and hat with ear flaps. You could barely see his face from the scarf wrapped around it, which he pulled up over his nose when you walked up. Despite being bundled up, he was still huddled up into himself and withdrew from you when you approached by taking a step back. He eyed you warily so you stopped short, offering a friendly wave.

He doesn’t speak but continues to stare at you with apprehension. He looks down at the ground and awkwardly kicks a pebble out of the way. It scoots over to you and you gently kick it back. He pauses and stands rigid for a moment before looking back to you. He says nothing but kicks the pebble back, this time with more enthusiasm and you reciprocate.

The boy doesn’t seem interested in conversation so you don’t force the subject and continue to play in a silence. You notice he keeps looking back to his mother, and you notice this because you are doing the same. Every now and again you check over your shoulder to see if she is watching you, but she is still talking to the boy’s mother.

You look back to him and offer him a smile. You can’t see his mouth but you see his eyes crinkle slightly in the smile hidden beneath. It seemed like he was shy, just as you were. You idly sway, hands behind your back and fingers fidgeting as you coax yourself through this encounter with a new person.

It’s difficult to meet new people. You’ve lived here your whole life but can’t name a single person. There were no other kids in the neighborhood, so seeing him step out of the car gave you hope that things could change. You tried not to appear over eager but you truly were hopeful you would be able to make a friend.

“Arthur, who’s this?” Comes a voice to your left. You both turn your heads in unison to look at his mother. He doesn’t answer or move, he merely stares with wide eyes, hands in his pockets and huddled into himself. His smile is gone. Again, you notice his behavior because you do the same, your own gaze wide with apprehension now that attention has been drawn to you.

She closes the distance and smiles down at you, “Sorry dear. He doesn’t mean to be so rude, he’s just retarded.”

You grimace some at this statement. She takes your scowl of disdain as confusion and continues to rub salt in the wound, “Retarded means he’s slow. He can’t talk. I think he can, but someone just doesn’t want to because they like making things hard for mommy, don’t they?”

She punctuated her overly sweet sounding condescension by pursing her lips and looking down at him over her glasses. He averts his gaze and stares at you instead. He is silently saying something to you with his eyes. It speaks loudly to you, it screams, it roars. He hates her. After a moment he looks away to stare off into the distance while she stands over him in her own silence.

“Well I think we’d better be going. It was great meeting you both.” Your own mother cuts in, sensing the awkward tension. You wanted to leave the situation, but didn’t particularly want to leave him. Arthur glanced back at you before dropping his gaze again. He turned and left without a word, footsteps plodding heavy on the concrete steps up to the porch. The metal screen door closes behind him with an angry slam.

Arthur’s mother sighs, throwing her hands up in the air and looking to your mother apologetically, “Kids. You give them everything and they still want more.”

Your own mother says nothing, but a look crosses her face having her own words repeated to her from a stranger. She makes a noncommittal noise and motions for you to come with her. You give a half-hearted wave goodbye and begin your walk home, just a short distance across the yard.

As you turn to wave you can see Arthur staring at you from the living room window. His scarf is off to reveal a healing lip and your stomach tightens. You really don’t want to leave him here, but if you don’t comply that would be you next. But still, you have to do something, anything.

“Can me and Arthur play later, mom?” You put her on the spot. All the pressure was off you and now rested on her shoulders. She said nothing for a moment, flicking her eyes between you and Arthur’s mother before nodding.

“As long as it’s okay with his mom it’s alright with me.” She agrees and the two of you look to her. She folds her arms over her chest, shifting her weight to one leg as she thought. You didn’t know what was going on in her head, but she was visibly thinking long and hard about something, and you didn’t like it.

After a time she relented, “They have to stay in the front yard. I don’t want Arthur wandering around until we know our neighbors better.”

Your mother seems a little peeved at that statement, taking it as a personal offense, but doesn’t address it. Instead she chuckles awkwardly and motions again for you to follow, which you do. The two of you make it to the house and once you are inside the truth comes out.

“I do not want you hanging out with that kid.” She turns to you, “He’s fucking weird, what if he hurts you?”

You didn’t say anything. He didn’t come off as threatening, in fact he was the one who had initially withdrawn when you approached. Arthur didn’t seem like a mean or bad kid, he looked... scared, stressed, absent. He looked the same way you did after a long night of berating, or the look of dread when you heard ‘just wait until we get home’.

“I do not want you hanging out with him. I’m going down there later to tell her you have a stomachache.”

You look at her with a pleading, but angry, expression. Your ears burn and you clench your teeth. You are twelve years old but she manages you like a toddler, “I don’t have any friends, why can’t I play with him?”

“Because he’s a freak. You have no idea what his mom told me, he’s a fucking nutcase.” She sighs, “Kids like him are why they should bring back asylums. You’re not going, that’s final. I am not sending you out with him.”

“It’s just in the yard!”

“You’re NOT going!”

“You never let me do anything!” You scream at her, fists balled and ready to fight back. You were more worked up than you should be, and part of it was your worry for Arthur. You needed a friend, and he needed a friend too. In your short time meeting him, you could tell he understood you, and you understood him. There was an unspoken solidarity. He knew, and you knew. You just wanted a friend, what the hell was wrong with everyone?

“I’m doing what’s best for you, I’m looking out for you. You should be more thankful that I actually give a shit about you and don’t let you run around with fucking psychopaths who hack up animals!” She screams back, taking an intimidating step toward you.

You aren’t having this, not today. You scoff at her and trudge to your room. The door slams behind you, an echo from just moments before. You lock the door behind you and flop onto your bed, tightly hugging the pillow beside you. The door wasn’t allowed to be locked but you didn’t care right now, that was a problem for later you. You didn’t want to even hear her breathe right now.

Frustrated tears come and you bury your face in the pillow. You were so angry and crestfallen. She always did this, she always agreed to plans in the moment then changed them as soon as you were behind closed doors. Any attempts to make friends had been foiled, and now that it had been so long without a friend you deeply struggled to make connections.

But you felt a connection with Arthur. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to talk to him, to give him someone to confide in, and you wanted someone to confide in as well. After a small cry you sit up on your bed, still hugging your pillow in your lap. From the corner of your eye you can see a small flash of light blinking over and over.

You get up to walk to the window and shield your eyes at the flashlight. Across the way is Arthur framed by the window pane. His bedroom seems to be across from yours. He turns off the flashlight and offers you a small, shy wave which you reciprocate. He flashes the light at you again. You hold up your finger to tell him to wait a moment and retrieve your own and flicker it at him.

And then you see it, a smile. It’s small and stiff, but it’s there. The two of you sit there at the window in the dim morning light, sending nonsensical Morse code that only the two of you can understand. Fate held you both in its hands as it linked the two of you together through these small flashes of light. You were exhilarated, and judging by the growing smile on his face, so was he.

#art the clown #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #angst #implied abuse #r slur tw #verbal abuse #my fics

98 notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 2 years ago

Note

hi, cate ! just an idea, if you want to be a blurb about it it's great, if you don't, it's okay <3 : Spencer and the BAU having a drink in a bar. Reader approaches the team and Spencer. Maybe her greeting Penelope with a hug and getting close to Spencer when she doesn’t know them at all, and tries to explain discreetly "save me, a creepy guy is stalking me since I arrived". How would Spencer react witg his "physical contact problem" and save the pretty girl ?

After a long, stressful week, the team is excited to have a night off to wind down, and when Rossi offers to buy, everyone eagerly goes to the bar together.

Penelope and Spencer are the only two left at the table- everyone else getting drinks at the bar, in the bathroom, or dancing- when you come up to the table, leaning down to hug Penelope.

Spencer doesn't automatically register anything sinister happening, knowing Penelope has lots of friends. However, the look on your face is not the look of someone excited to see your friend.

"Please help me." Spencer catches the words you're whispering to Penelope. "That guy has been following me since I got here." His eyes travel across the bar, quickly finding who you're talking about.

Penelope remains calm. "I haven't seen you in so long." She plays the role of your friend effortlessly, shuffling around the booth to let you sit next to her.

The guy you're worried about doesn't stop when he sees you with your 'friends.' Instead, he walks over, unbothered about interrupting a private conversation.

"Hey, are you ready to get out of here yet?" He asks.

Spencer sees the fear in your eyes, a paralyzing fear he's felt before, and he quickly steps in since you don't seem to be able to find the words to defend yourself.

He gets up, stepping between you and the guy. He's much taller, towering over the other guy. "She doesn't want to go with you. You need to leave." He directs in a low tone that Penelope's never heard before, and it leaves no room for argument.

It works easily, the creep leaving the table quicker than he got there, clearly intimidated by someone who has rarely been threatening in his life.

"Thank you so much. You seriously both saved me." You say once he sits back down. "I'll, uh, go." You tell them, aware you've maybe interrupted what could be a couple's date night, even though they look unlikely to be together.

Penelope kicks Spencer under the table, prompting him to not let you walk off. When you stand up, he does too. "Can I, uh, b-buy you a drink?" He offers shyly, a complete 180 from how authoritatively he spoke before.

"I'm Penelope." She introduces herself. "And he's not actually scary, I promise."

You trusted her as soon as you saw her, and his eyes are filled with kindness. "I'm Y/n." You tell them both. "And thanks again. I do think I should be buying you both drinks, though."

"No, let me, please," Spencer says. "Oh, and I'm Spencer, by the way."

"He's one of the good ones," Penelope tells you, and you nod, agreeing to let him buy you a drink as you walk off in front of him. "Bye, lover boy," She whispers to Spencer as she gives him the thumbs up.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

1K notes · View notes

redroomreflections · 7 months ago

Text

Well Worth The Wait

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader Summary : R and Nat have a night alone - based on The Loud House couple that can be found on A03

Note: These are reuploads.

18+ Minors DNI (it's smut)

w/c: 4k

The door slowly opened to reveal the scene beyond. In the living room of Natasha’s suite were candles lit up in various spots. Some are taller than others, and some brighter than others. Rose petals lined a trail to the middle of the room where there was a picnic-like setting waiting for you. A champagne bottle sitting on ice. It all added to the ambiance of the room. You stepped further inside, and Natasha’s footsteps could be heard behind you through the clacking of her heels against the floor. She reaches for your hand when she realized you’ve stopped.

“I guess Sam does know how to decorate,” You comment as you find a fully decorated table for dinner. This evening had been planned for weeks. A night at the Compound. A date for just the two of you to reconnect and talk with each other. Here you had total privacy. Soundproof walls, nice air conditioning, and a fully stocked fridge. No kids running around. No phones. No work emails. A luxurious night if you do say so yourself. Natasha’s suite in the Compound is huge. It's kind of romantic if you think about it. Every time you’re here you remember the nights you spent together before marriage. The times you promised each other the world. Crazy how things turn out.

“Sam said dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” Natasha tilts her chin towards the kitchen where you can smell the fragrance of whatever is cooking wafting through the air. “For now how about drinks?” She suggests and you nod. You watch as Natasha struts into the kitchen. You decide to stay behind and explore a bit more. There’s a blanket right in front of the fireplace. Sam’s doing? Along with a red box that you’re sure you’re not supposed to touch. Curiosity gets the best of you and you walk over to shake it. Could this be the gift? You know the one. Natasha promised to give it to you the night of Christmas but Paige broke a fever so you rainchecked. Then Charlie got sick too. Then the rest of the house. Next thing you knew it was time for work again. Weeks went by and you never got around to opening your gift. That doesn’t mean you forgot about it. Natasha mentioned it once or twice in passing. She knew how to keep you wanting more. Which is why you’re so excited to open it. Your fingertips trace across the red ribbon, pinching close together to rip it open when you hear Natasha’s footsteps once again.

You pretend as if you weren’t going to touch anything and instead walk over to the double doors of the suite. There’s a balcony here. It overlooks the beautiful forest of upstate NY. You reminisce on the nights you would sit here with your laptop and phone. You’d work and work some more until Natasha was done with her Avenging duties. When she finally arrived home she would come and sit in your lap, give you a big kiss, and fall asleep in your arms. It’s amazing how so much of your life has changed. In a way, the suite was your first apartment together, and now you have a home with your littles.

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks as you turn to her. She passes you a full tumbler before taking a sip of her own drink.

“You,” You swirl the liquid around in the cup, watching the ice ding against the edge, before taking a drink. Screwdriver. Vodka and orange juice. Not a bad drink though you think Natasha mixed it for your benefit. “Us.”

“A lot to think about then,” Natasha lowers her drink. She follows your line of sight to the infinity pool directly below you. Many nights she’d watch you swim. You were always so graceful.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” You glance over at her. “When you think about the beginning and everything we went through. You and Me. Did you ever think we’d have this?”

“I did,” Natasha shrugs. “When I allowed myself to. I’ve only ever wanted it. This. With you.” She confirms. In the beginning, your relationship with Natasha wasn’t easy. It was rough and heartbreaking, and pain-inducing all at once. It was also fun, and exhilarating, and everything you dreamed of all rolled into one. In the distance, there’s a timer that goes off. Dinner is ready. You follow Natasha into the kitchen. She sets her glass down on the counter in exchange for oven mitts. She takes out the pan of lasagna. “There’s a salad in the fridge. It’s fresh. Can you pull that out?” She asks and you quickly get to work. You spruce it up, making sure it's to your liking before you both carry everything into the living room.

It’s there you sit across from each other. Natasha is wearing a dress and so she opts to have a pillow sitting in her lap.

“For modesty,” She said even though you’ve seen everything she has to offer. Not that you mind seeing it again. In fact, you welcome it. You take care to fill both of your plates with food. Though you’re sure Natasha will be eating off of yours.

You engage in small talk. It’s odd to do all things considered but you find that you enjoy it. Any time you could get with Natasha was always cherished.

“I love what you did with your hair,” She rests her chin on her hand to admire you. You knew she would. Your hair took hours to do. From the wash routine to the straightening and curling, and down to the styling. Your hair falls into soft ringlets around your face, barely brushing past your shoulders.

“Try not to mess it up,” You take in a forkful of lasagna. Promises of what’s to come in the air between you.

“I make no promises,” She laughs. She takes another sip of her drink to finish it off.

“You made me wait a long time,” You gesture to the box still waiting to be opened.

“I assure you it will be well worth it,” Natasha promises. She scoots around the table to come and sit next to you. You immediately open up to her so that she can crawl into your arms. She kisses your jaw several times before settling her head on your shoulders. “I know it’s been a long while since we have been intimate.”

“A while,” You repeat jokingly. Natasha nods. It’s been a month. A long month. Not that you’re counting or anything. “It has been but it doesn’t matter because I have you all night and all morning.” You tap her nose. “Maybe we can take a bath? A massage? I know you like those.”

“You’re so good to me,” She murmurs.

“I’m only giving back what I receive,” You kiss the side of her head. For a moment, you two sit together in silence. Natasha takes your hands into her lap to toy with your wedding ring on her finger. A small symbol of your love. You haven't taken it off since the day you said 'I Do'. Neither has she with the exception of missions and fieldwork.

“Y/n,” She says. You lift your head up to look down at her. “I’d like for us to do this more often.” She turns to look at you. “I want us to always make this time for each other. It hasn’t been long but it feels like it’s been ages.”

“Having four children will do that to you,” You nod in agreement. “I promise. A night to us. Whenever we can.”

“You want another drink?” Natasha asks and you enthusiastically pass her your cup. You would be making the most of tonight.

Another hour passes where you simply sit and enjoy each other’s company. Every so often one of you will bring up a new topic or random thing that comes to mind. Overall you just want to spend time with your wife and you’re doing exactly as you planned. As the night winds down, you’re even more excited to be opening ‘The Gift’.

************************

“Spunk?” You test the phrase on your lips. You snort at the word written in large white letters along the black-wrapped casing of the bottle. What an interesting yet accurate name for a semen-like lubricant. Natasha glances over at you from her spot beside the bed. She’s lighting more candles here in the bedroom. You would help but you’re feeling a bit…light.

“The girl in the store said it was the best-selling option,” Natasha murmurs as she lifts the small red box. She places it in front of you. You’re still stuck on the fake cum. It’s such an exciting concept—one of your wildest fantasies coming true. The black bottle is simple and pretty self-explanatory. You turn it over in your hands. It’s new. “Could it be any more obvious?” You twist open the cap, and bring the open lid to your nose, to smell the fragrance. You scrunch your nose, anticipating something weird, and only get a citrusy smell in return. “Babe is this safe to be using inside you?” You ask. You’re a bit unsure. You try to read the ingredients on the back. The print is incredibly small. You squint. Interesting.

“I’ve tried it,” Natasha shrugs.

Wait. Pause. You lower your hand to look over at her.

“On yourself?” You ask and she rolls her eyes.

“No, on Wanda,” She jabs but at your interested look she changes her tune. “Yes on myself.” She says exasperatedly.

“Damn, that’s hot.” You mutter. Visuals of Natasha touching herself flash through your mind. You can imagine how good she looked with her fingers stuffed inside of her dripping wet pussy. You picture her face as she spread the sticky substance over her clit. Damn. You can’t wait to be able to do the same.

“It doesn’t take much for you, huh?” Natasha rounds the bed to stand between your legs. Your hands take their usual spot on her hips. You squeeze the skin underneath your fingers, eyeing her cleavage before looking into her eyes. She’s amused.

“Well, when my wife looks like this,” You shrug. Could she really blame you? “My panties are flooded every time you look my way.”

Natasha hums as she swipes her thumb across your bottom lip. “How much did you have to drink again?”

“Not enough,” You open your mouth to allow her to slip her finger inside of it. You suck on the digit, swirling your tongue over the edge of it before you release it with a pop. You purse your lips, hoping she gets the hint. She does. Natasha leans down to press her lips against yours. You moan at the taste of her. Strawberries and cream. Was she wearing lipgloss? You swipe your tongue against her lips asking for permission. Natasha obliges. Her tongue tentatively licks yours. You return the sentiment with enthusiasm. You pull back and look into her dilated- lust-filled eyes before you dive back in. Kissing Natasha would never get old. You don’t ever want to lose the feeling of absolute love and adoration you feel. The blooming in your chest that seemed to explode whenever she touched you is euphoric. She breathes harshly before pushing against your shoulders. You don’t have to be a master in body language to know what she wants. You lie back against the sheets pulling her down with you. She straddles your lap, her fingers finding the buttons of your creme satin button-down. One by one, your skin is exposed to the cooler air of the room. She pushes her fingers under the fabric, finding your nipple already a hardened peak.

“Nat,” You moan into her mouth as she pinches and tugs. She pries herself from your lips to kiss a trail from your neck to your chest. She nudges the covering away with her nose to take your nipple between her lips. She sucks, licks, and lathes until she’s satisfied. Then she moves over to your other breast to give it much of the same treatment. You thread your fingers through her hair. “Nat, fuck, I need you.” You’re not usually this needy. Not this compliant. She’s leading and you’re enjoying it. You know she does too. Much like your shirt, she unbuttons your pants, gripping the belt loops to tug them down your waist. You lift your hips to aid her.

“Here?” She questions as she pushes your legs apart. You nod wordlessly. You’d like her tongue on you. In you. Natasha settles on her stomach, no doubt preparing herself for a ride, as she kisses and bites at your inner thigh. The skin is sensitive there as her hair tickles with every move she makes. You look up at the ceiling in anticipation. The first lick is kitten-like. The second has your mouth dropping open as she pushes your panties further to the side. She wants full access. Natasha licks and licks until finally, she sucks your clit into her mouth. The moan you let out is low and guttural. The high you feel as she gives you her all. It never ceased to amaze you at how well she knew your body. Natasha knows every spot to lick and touch. Every inch and how to play it well. She raises one hand to spread your legs wider. When she’s sure you’ll be staying put, she presses two fingers at your entrance. The fill is amazing. She pumps into you, matching the rhythm of your hips, as she fucks you. You’re not going to last long, You’ve been wanting this. Your moans are frequent. Tumbling out of you like a mantra as she brings you to orgasm. You flutter around her fingers, clenching violently, as she hums. The vibrations give you the much-needed push as you lay spent. Finally, with a little reluctance, Natasha releases your clit from her mouth. She kisses your inner thigh again before coming to lie next to you.

You try to catch your breath. Your head lolls to the side to look over at her with glassy eyes.

“Fuck,” You breathe. She chuckles lowly. Does she know what she does to you? The power that she holds? “Give me a minute and I will absolutely rock your world.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Natasha helps you out of your shirt. Next, she takes off her own clothes, a fiery red dress with laced backing, leaving her in nothing but her panties and heels. Five-inch stilettos that show off her toned legs. She reaches down to take them off and you tap at her.

“Leave them on,” You plead and she releases the straps. “Come here,” You whisper. “I want you here with me.” You say. She nods. She crawls over to you, settling herself on your hips, before leaning down again. “How did I get so lucky?” You ask rhetorically as you look into her eyes. She smirks. You know the one. She’s just a little bit shy about this entire thing and you find that endearing and so sexy. Having a soft moment when you’re about to do nothing but dirty things to her is an amazing thing.

“So I’m guessing I mixed those drinks a little too well?” Natasha murmurs as she traces her fingers along your cheek.

“Extremely well,” You nod your head in agreement. “I’m not drunk. Honest.” You laugh at Natasha’s eyebrow raise. “I’m just really in love with you?”

“Is that a question?”

“Not even,” You shake your head. “I really want to fuck you now.” You confess and this causes Natasha to giggle. She finds the tipsy version of you quite funny. “Are you going to finally let me get my gift?” You ask with a pout. “It’s been so long.”

Natasha reaches above your head, her breasts in your face, as she reaches for the box. You watch the firm soft globes, hanging freely before you raise your head to give one of them a soft bite. Natasha flinches in surprise, dropping the box next to you as she sits up again.

“That’s the mood you’re in tonight?” She asks amusedly. She opens the box, pulling out the dildo along with its harness.

“Nat,” Your eyes widen. “This one looks so realistic.” You take the toy in your hand. It’s at least 8 inches long. Thick and veiny. A smooth tip. The same color as your skin and you don’t know if she made that choice for you or her but you’re not complaining at all. The phallus has a pair of testicles that you’re inclined to squeeze until Natasha lies a hand over yours to stop you.

“It’s filled,” She says and you immediately understand what she means. You turn over the dildo in your hands.

“So, I can cum inside you?” You ask in wonderment. Okay. Maybe you’re just a little bit drunk but you feel like it’s Christmas and your birthday rolled into one . “Oh, babe, I have to use this on you.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” She asks.

“Positive,” You stand to fix the harness around your hips. Next is the dildo that you attach with ease. Natasha looks so delicious sitting before you. Her legs were crossed at the ankle. Her eyes showed her absolute desire and hunger for you. When you’re sure everything is fixed into place accordingly, you crawl into the bed. You bracket your arms around her body, her legs parting automatically, as the head of the penis slides against her panty-covered core. Natasha’s lips drop open as she closes her eyes to enjoy the feeling. You kiss her open mouth first. Then her cheeks, her jaw, behind her ear. Anywhere you can get your lips on. You give a tiny lick to the hollow of her neck. She moans slightly. Your hips cant into her, gliding against her folds, as you prepare her. “Do you need to cum first?” Your lips ghost against her skin. “Need you to be ready for me baby.” You say.

Natasha is lost in the pleasured feeling of the cock against her clit. Even through her panties, it's sending her reeling. Natasha nods just as your fingertips trace along the waistband of her underwear. “Leave them on?” You question, thrusting a bit harder causing Natasha to gasp as it sends shockwaves through her body. You angle your hips to have the head of the cock poke just slightly at her entrance. Not enough to breach but enough to promise what's to come. You duck your head, biting at the soft tissue of her breast, as you start a steady rhythm. It’s essentially dry humping. Though from the wet spot and the way her underwear sticks to the lips of her pussy there’s nothing dry about it. You lick at her nipple, teasing it with the tip of your tongue, as Natasha whimpers below you.

“You’re teasing,” Natasha says in between labored breaths.

“Teasing?” You question. You circle your hips, paying attention to what makes her moan, to pull the most pleasure out of her. Natasha comes with a long whimper as she stiffens underneath you. Her whole body stills even as her hips continue to search for that pleasure. “That’s so good, baby.” You release her nipple from your mouth with a pop. Natasha simply kisses you. She kisses your face and neck her hand slipping up to your chest to push you on your back.

You’re impatient but excited. You lie back against the pillows to make yourself comfortable. Natasha rids herself of her panties before she straddles you. She uses her pussy lips to grind against the toy. Her juices glisten with every swipe she does. When she decides that she’s ready, Natasha lifts up, taking the penis in her hand to direct it to her entrance. You can feel the weight of her against you as she sinks down onto it. She breathes through her nose. She closes her eyes in an effort not to come too quickly as she takes it all in.

From your angle it looks absolutely heaven-like. You can see her having a bit of trouble with the last inch so you place your thumb directly along her clit, providing tight circles that catch Natasha off guard as she takes the last inch.

“Good job, baby.” You praise. You never take your finger off her clit as she lifts her hips again. The sigh that leaves her lips is followed by an even louder moan as she drops down again. You let out your own moan at the sight of her. Natasha’s hand wraps at your wrist pulling you away to place them on her hips.

“Too fast,” She mutters. She doesn’t want to come too quickly. You nod, using your hands to guide her, as she finds what makes her feel good. In turn, it makes you feel good too. Natasha’s motions are quicker. Rougher. As she rides you with abandon. You set this pace this time. Up until this moment, she’s been in charge. Not anymore. You can tell she likes the change as you grip her hips, forcing her up and down, as you thrust into her. You’re thankful for the ab workouts you’ve taken as you thrust up.

“Fuck,” You say to yourself as your eyes travel to where you and Natasha meet. She looks so full like this. She’s spread open so wide, bouncing along your cock, her clit brushing against your pelvis. After a particularly hard thrust, Natasha crumbles, folding into herself, as she leans further down. Her lips are against your ear now, her moans louder, more brazen, as you fuck into her.

“Yes, baby, yes, fuck,” Natasha babbles into your ear. You make a bold move, raising your hand before slapping her left ass cheek. It gives a loud echo through the room just as Natasha clenches at the slight pain. You smack again harder this time and she cries out again. “Yes, yes, yes.” She sounds like a broken record as she sings your praises. One thing about Natasha. She has stamina. She could do this all day. Most days. Except now, it’s been so long since she had you like this and you’re fucking her so well and you’re not giving her a chance to recover as she climaxes around your cock. She’s seated upright again, her back arching, her nails digging into your forearms as she clenches around you. You follow her headfirst into your own orgasm, your hips increasing their thrusting into hers before you drop back down onto the mattress. Natasha falls along with you.

You rub against her back, pulling the cock out of her gently, before rubbing at her cheeks. They’re probably red from how many times you smacked them and you’d be hearing about it later. For now, it was worth it. Natasha lies down tiredly in your arms. She stretches her legs and curls into you.

“Good?’ You ask and she nods. She nuzzles her nose in your neck. “I’m not done with you.” You inform her and she nods again. She already knew. You’d give her five minutes and that’s all she could wait. When you promised her tonight you meant it. You reach for the water bottle on the nightstand. You crack it open and take long sips out of it. You pass it to Natasha who tiredly takes a long gulp.

When you feel both of you have recovered enough, you flip Natasha onto her back. Missionary. A simple position. Top tier if you do say so yourself. You get to see Natasha and all of her expressions of pleasure. You get to hold her down and make her take whatever you’re giving. Natasha helps you guide the cock to her entrance. Both of you share a breath as you press into her. You kiss her forehead, murmuring words of encouragement, as she takes every single inch.

“So damn tight,” You bend yourself slightly at the knees. Her hips wrapped around your waist, your hand on her thigh to keep her spread, as you hump into her. “You’re always so wet.” You mutter into her skin. “Are you going to let me fuck you all night?” You practically growl and Natasha simply nods her head. She’s too lost in the pleasure to give you anything of substance. This round is hard and fast. You don’t hold back as you pound into her. Your thrusts are sharp and short, causing her breasts to bounce with the force, as Natasha begins to whimper again. Her whimpers quickly turn into moans when you turn your attention to her neck to place another bite. Natasha gasps, arching her back, and you can feel things become a bit slicker as she floods your cock.

“Yes,” She manages to moan out. You sit up so that you can kiss her lips.

“Whose pussy is this?” You ask. You’re feeling bold. Probably something you both will laugh at later. For now, you need her to say it. "Whose is it?"

"Yours," She wheezes. She doesn't really know up or down right now.

You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach. You reach down between the two of you, making enough room to toy with her clit, as you want to come at the same time. You slam into her and this time Natasha practically screams.

“Oh fuck, yes, Daddy,” Natasha moans and you almost do a double take. She’s never called you that before. Suddenly that’s all you want to hear from her.

“Say it again,” You command, and Natasha’s eyes open just slightly to question. “Say it.” You thrust into her again and Natasha grips your forearms for purchase.

“Daddy,” Natasha cries and you practically come on the spot. You angle your hips again, gripping hers in your hand, as you thrust harder and harder and harder until Natasha reaches her peaks, and you fall quickly behind her. You know your grip will bruise later and you’ll apologize when the time comes. Instead, you squeeze the balls of the fake cock, making sure to keep your hips still, as it spills into Natasha in thick spurts. She is thrown into another small orgasm as her insides are painted with the sticky substance.

You kiss across her forehead, tapping at her hips again, and she loosens them as you pull out. You look down between the two of you, her pussy still pulsing, the fake semen dripping from her and onto the blanket. You take two of your fingers, sliding them through her core to collect the mixed fluids to bring to your mouth.

“Nat?” You question when her hips jump at the feel of your fingers. She’s sensitive and exhausted. You lean back, the cock bobbing in the air though you ignore it, as you help her take off the heels. Really you’re doing all the work and she lies there.

“Mhmm?” She responds without ever opening her eyes.

“This was the best present ever,” You say and she laughs. A full belly laugh that has you laughing too.

It was well worth the wait.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

216 notes · View notes

achilles-rage · 2 months ago

Text

Good Luck Charm: Epilogue

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: it’s finally the day of your graduation.

word count: 2.7k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: okay this is the real last chapter!! this was gonna be a drabble so i wasn't gonna really count it, but this is a more solid ending lol. enjoy<333

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

“We have to go! Now!” you yell as you stand by the front door of your apartment. You and your roommate had planned to walk over to campus together for graduation, but, like always, she’s running late. Your feet are already starting to hurt in your blue heels, and your skin has a thin layer of sweat from running around the apartment while getting ready.

Finally, your roommate comes out of the bathroom, giving you a wide smile as she jogs to the door.

“Okay, jeez. How does Evan put up with you all the time?” she teases once she gets to the door. She grabs her purse hanging by the door and steps out as you swing the door open, and you roll your eyes as she passes. She may have a little bit of a point, but you were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago, and you’ve been waiting by the door for 20. You plan on meeting Evan at the venue; your roommate having wanted to get ready together at your apartment as a last big hang out before you have to move out of the place you’ve called home for the last 4 years. But now, you don’t think you’ll have time to see him before it starts.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m sorry I don’t want to be late to our graduation.” you reply in a teasing tone, trying to keep up with her as she speed walks down the hall to the elevator. How can she walk so fast in her heels? They’re at least 2 inches taller than yours.

By the time you get to the coat check, you can see that most people are already in line, waiting to be led into the auditorium, and it seems that they’re only a few minutes from leading everyone in. You sigh in relief once you have your name card and your gown, then say a quick goodbye to your roommate before you go to your spots.

You spot Evan across the large room, his suit just barely visible through the slit in his gown, and your mouth goes dry. You’ve never seen him in a suit, and you have to admit, he looks extremely good. You don’t make a move towards him, seeing that volunteers are making their way down the lines to make sure everyone is in the right spot. Instead, you busy yourself by pulling out your phone and making sure your makeup is still in place.

While you’re looking at your phone, Evan’s eyes finally land on you, and he lets out a sharp inhale as his eyes trail down your body. You’re wearing a pretty white dress, not unlike any of the other women around you, but he thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He’s used to seeing you in dresses, but this is different. You’re all dressed up, hair and makeup perfect and heels making your legs look a little longer, and he can’t fight the urge to touch you. He weaves his way through the rows of other people, eyes trained on you as he moves, refusing to look away.

You jump when you feel a hand on your hip, only relaxing when you turn and see Evan’s smirk. You let out a sigh, but it’s cut short when he pulls you in for a deep kiss, one hand going to your jaw while the other stays on your hip. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the soft material of his suit under your fingers, which makes you hum softly as you think about the sight of him in it.

“You look so beautiful, princess. Goddamn.” he murmurs against your lips. You smile into the kiss, then push him away slowly, cheeks growing hot as you take a quick glance around the room to make sure no one’s looking.

“I’ve never seen you in a suit before. You look good.” you tell him in a quiet voice, looking up at him through your lashes. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, smirk widening at your words.

“Thank you, baby.” he says with a low hum, then leans down to press his lips to yours once again in a much softer kiss. Your kiss is cut short when you hear someone clearing their throat behind you, and you jump away from Evan and turn to the sound.

“Number?” the man asks, looking between the two of you.

“317.” you say awkwardly just as Evan says “84.” You look down in embarrassment as the man begins to tell Evan that he’s in the wrong line, but Evan waves him off, smiling.

“Yeah, man. I know. I’m going.” he tells him, then turns to you as the man keeps moving down the line. He reaches up and wipes away some of your smudged lip gloss, giving you a wink. You smile back, reaching up and wiping the lip gloss off of his lips as well, laughing softly as he huffs and fake pouts.

“What, you don’t like how I look?” he teases, raising a brow. You shake your head as you laugh softly, pushing him back towards his own line.

“Get going. They’re bringing us out soon.” you say sternly, fighting back a smile as he pulls you forward with him, his hand grabbing yours. He pulls you against him and kisses your forehead, then pulls back, looking down at you with lovestruck eyes.

“I love you. I can’t wait to see you up there on stage.” he tells you sincerely, and you smile, your heart warming at his words.

“I love you. Now go.” you say, pointing towards his line, which is now being led out the door and towards the auditorium. He gives you one last wink before he jogs back to his line, slotting himself between the two people he was between earlier. You watch him until he rounds the corner, and then you wait until your row is led out.

You stand in the wing of the stage, hands shaking as you hold your name card, waiting to go on stage. Evan has already walked across the stage, and although you felt a little embarrassed, you couldn’t help but cheer along with the rest of his teammates that are also graduating this year. You’re sure Evan is going to cheer for you as well; he’s never been shy, and you know that as much as it will make your heart swell, it’ll make you more nervous with everyone's eyes on you.

You move up in line until it’s your turn to give your card to the person announcing everyone’s names.

You wait patiently for your name to be called, and once it is, you walk across the stage towards the chancellor. You keep your eyes on the chancellor as you do, knowing that looking into the audience and seeing everyone’s eyes on you will make you more nervous. You can’t help but look over, however, when you hear Evan cheering for you, followed by what sounds like cheering from the rest of the football team from various spots in the audience. Your face heats up as your head turns toward the crowd, immediately finding Evan in the crowd. He’s the only one standing up, and he’s near the front because of his last name, and you can’t help the grin that erupts on your face, as embarrassed as you are.

You shake the chancellor’s hand, and then leave the stage, trying to slow your racing heart as you’re ushered back to your seat. Your smile refuses to leave your face the rest of the ceremony. You’re not sure why Evan’s friends cheered for you; Evan knows that having eyes on you like that isn’t something you exactly welcome, not that it would stop him from asking his friends to cheer on his girl. And either way, you wouldn’t exactly say you’re friends with them, other than Owen, who always tries to make you more comfortable in situations where you’re surrounded by all their other friends.

“You looked like a deer in headlights up there.” you hear a voice say behind you. You turn with a smile, immediately recognizing the voice. You felt like you’ve waited forever for Evan to find you after the ceremony; the pain from your heels, paired with the loud chatter from the sea of bodies surrounding you, making you feel slightly overwhelmed. You laugh softly before you wrap your arms around his torso, sinking into his arms as soon as he wraps his around your shoulders. You relax into his embrace immediately, the chatter surrounding you suddenly getting quieter as you try to listen to his heartbeat beneath his chest.

“You could’ve warned me.” you murmur into his chest, and the rumble of his laugh makes you smile, just a little.

“You would’ve told me not to. And I wanted you to know how proud I am of you.” he tells you, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on the top of your head. You sigh, knowing he’s definitely right.

“And you just had to show that in front of the entire graduating class?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. He smiles, shrugging as he nods.

“I’m proud of you, too, you know. I don’t know how you balanced football and classes, I barely had any time between classes and work.” you tell him earnestly. He looks down, shrugging again as his smile widens. You smile when you notice his cheeks go slightly pink, and you pull him down for a kiss, resting your hands on his abdomen.

“Now all we have to do is find an apartment, and jobs, and then we won’t have to stress anymore.” he whispers against your lips. You pull back, tilting your head to the side as you look into his eyes. You’re about to respond when a few of his teammates come barreling towards you two, almost knocking you over as they run into Evan and wrap their arms around his shoulders. Evan catches you before you can stumble too much; your feet hurt so much that it’s even harder to balance in your heels, and then lets you go once you’re standing straight, not wanting to continue jostling you around as his friends shake his shoulders and celebrate with him.

Once you’ve helped Evan take pictures with all his friends, taken some pictures with Evan, then found your roommate and your parents to take pictures with them, you go to dinner with your parents to celebrate. You bring Evan along with you, as his parents “had something come up,” meaning they couldn’t make it. You seemed more upset about it than Evan when he told you, but you know that he was just trying to brush it off, even if it did bother him.

The next few days go by in a blur. Graduation happened late this year, meaning that you and Evan have less than a week to pack up your places before your leases end. You take breaks during the day from packing, travelling around LA to look for an apartment for you and Evan, and when you only have two days left to find a place to live, you start to get very anxious.

You’re standing outside of an apartment building, slightly out of breath from having to jog down the street to make it on time for your viewing appointment. You had seen this apartment a week or so earlier; a beautiful, well-lit loft that you fell in love with, but when you emailed the landlord, he had told you that it was already spoken for. It was a miracle that he emailed you about twenty minutes prior to you getting there, telling you that the deal had fallen through, and it was yours if you could make it in the next thirty minutes.

A grin is plastered to your face the entire way up, and you’re gripping Evan’s hand so tight as you lead him down the hall that you’re sure it hurts. When the landlord opens the door, your smile widens, if even possible. Evan smiles too, clearly loving the place as well. He’s always thought lofts were cool, and he can’t help but imagine living here with you. Waking up to you every morning in his arms.

“It’s perfect.” you tell the landlord once you’ve seen the entire apartment. You look up to Evan, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet as you grip his bicep with one of your hands. He hums in agreement, grinning down at you.“We’ll take it.” Evan informs the landlord, raising his gaze up to the man. It really is perfect, and neither of you can believe it’s actually in your price range. It’s right near the LAFD training academy, where Evan is starting soon, and it’s close enough to lots of workplaces that you’ve applied to.

You’ve finally gotten all your boxes and furniture moved up to your new apartment, and both you and Evan are laying on the floor of your soon-to-be living room, sweaty and tired from all the trips up and down from the moving truck.

“Should we get pizza for dinner?” Evan asks, rolling over onto his side to face you and resting his head on his fist. You smile, rolling over and mirroring the way he’s laying.

“We can order in. Get our mattress set up at least while we’re waiting so we don’t have to do it before bed.” you reply, and he nods. By the time you’re finished moving everything up, it’s almost 8PM, and you can feel your stomach rumbling.

“Alright, I’ll call. The usual?” he asks, and you nod as you stand up. He sits up and grabs his phone from his pocket, finding the number for the closest pizza place.

Once you’re up the stairs, you stop, taking in the sight in front of you. A mixture of you and Evan’s things waiting to find their place among each other, your lives finally fully intertwined. You can’t wait until your things are actually out of the boxes, but for now, you don’t bother trying to unpack. Instead, you begin to slide boxes out of the way of where you want to place the mattress, Evan’s voice travelling through your new space and up to your ears, making you smile. You feel so at peace. Finally. Even if the apartment looks a mess.

You can almost imagine yourself a few months from now, finally settling into living with Evan. Him coming home after training, helping you make dinner, and then both of you curling up on the couch to watch something on tv. You’re a little nervous about actually finding a job, as many of the places you’ve applied to haven’t replied to you yet, but you push that away.

After you’ve moved everything out of the way, flopped the mattress down into the place you want it, and set up some pillows and blankets on it, Evan comes up the stairs with the pizza. You both sit on the end of the mattress and dig in, a comforting silence filling the space.

Evan watches you as you eat, and after a few minutes, you laugh softly, raising a brow.

“What?” you ask, heat filling your cheeks. You reach up to your face, thinking that maybe you have something on your face, but you don’t feel anything.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispers, mostly to himself. You smile, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You didn’t get lucky. You just put up with me long enough for me to like you” you tease him softly, putting your slice of pizza back down in the box. You get up on your knees and move towards him, settling on his lap with your legs on either side of him.

“I did get lucky. I got the perfect apartment and the girl of my dreams. My good luck charm.” he purrs, his hands going to your hips immediately. You laugh softly at his words, shaking your head before you lean down to give him a sweet kiss.

Yeah, you were going to be okay. As long as you had him.

bonus drabble

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @tatyhend @sammiejane22 @mbioooo0000 @prettybi-girly @boybandbaby @toessssw @tryingtograspctrl @azkza @rosey1981 @cryedye (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in seatched, otherwise i can’t tag you! + more in comments)

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x plus size!reader #evan buckley x plus size reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fic #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley oneshot #evan buckley headcanon #911 x plus size!reader #911 x plus size reader #911 x reader #911 fic #911 imagine #911 oneshot #911 headcanon #911 au #911 au fic #good luck charm

132 notes · View notes

ettraxx · 2 months ago

Text

Kara Kent Opening

A new day dawns over National City. The golden light of the sun crests over the horizon and begins to fill an unassuming loft apartment. Its lone occupant rises with a joyous yawn. The blond stretches taking in the invigorating sunlight and is swiftly energized. With impossible speed she rushes to her bathroom.

In a blur she showers, dries her hair, and dresses in her most impressive dark blue pants suit. She completes the look with a thick pair of glasses stopping at the door to her former storage room. She looks inside once more to ensure that the bedroom is ready for its new occupant. A sky blue comforter lying perfectly atop the queen sized bed.

Heading through her living room, she grabs her briefcase and ID before heading out of the door. Today is the first day of the rest of her life, in more ways than one. She has finally completed her orientation and security clearance, so she begins her new job in earnest. She’s a cyberneticist working under one of the most brilliant minds in the field, Dr. Amelia Hamilton.

And more importantly than that, she works for one of the most brilliant minds in the world, Lena Luthor at Luthor Bio-Tech. Her doctoral thesis project on synthetic nerves is what got her recruited by Ms. Luthor personally. The other way her life is changing for good is her brother coming to stay with her. The high school freshman to be was looking forward to starting at Smallville High, but that wasn’t to be.

Ma and Pa are just having too many health problems back in Smallville and Clark just needs more specified assistance. He’s only thirteen and he’s already smarter than his classmates. She’s had her spare bedroom set up for him for over a week. And she would normally be on the phone with him already but there’s a two hour time difference.

She knows exactly when his flight arrives though, so she just has to be at the airport. She’s planned out her entire day to maximize her efficiency. And it all starts now with her first real day in the big leagues. As she steps over the threshold and up to the security guards her phone buzzes in her pocket.

She ignores it as her badge is swiped. The guard all but ignores her as she is ushered through. Riding the elevator is not as rough today, she is lucky enough to catch an empty one. Getting out on her floor she makes it to Dr. Hamilton’s lab in time to be greeted by the middle-aged scientist.

Her lightly greying hair is precisely trimmed and matches well with her dignified eyes. She half smiles at her new assistant as she enters, she has been to the lab area once before but today is the first day to really get her hands dirty. She stores her briefcase and slips on her own lab coat. It’s a small thing but just feeling the corporate logo above the pocket makes everything more real.

“So Dr., how are you today?” She asks with too much enthusiasm.

“Please Miss Kent, just call me Amelia or Hamilton.” She insists with a faint sigh. “We will be working together entirely too much for added formalities.”

“Of course.” She responds quickly, tempering her excitement.

“Now before we begin any real work, our benefactor will be visiting us for a quick meeting.” She looks to her watch to confirm the time.

Right on cue, the lab door opens once more. In walk two women, both around Kara’s age, though the difference in their demeanor is unmistakable. The shorter of the two is holding a tablet and her eyes remain mostly down turned and focused on the tablet. The taller of the two is wearing a form fitting black dress and stands with more confidence than Kara could hope to muster.

Her eyes shine a brilliant emerald green, and her smile is as bright as the dawning sun. Kara can feel her heart skip in her chest. She momentarily loses focus and can’t help but hear every other heartbeat in the area. Her eyes unfocus briefly, seeing through everything around them.

And that’s when she realized what was wrong. The distinctive sound of a heavily armed man rushing up the stairwell. The sight of the lone figure clad in body armor and carrying a high tech rifle sends a chill through her spine. Her smile falters for a brief moment, as she tries to come up with a plan.

The man still has a flight to climb, but how did he avoid the alarms? Before she can focus too much on the thought, the pale hand of the gorgeous raven-haired woman is presented for her to shake. She takes the offered hand and applies the perfectly pressured grip that Pa had taught her. Smiling back to the brunet, she catches the faint increase in her heart rate as well as the soft blush that presents.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you properly Miss Luthor.” Exclaims Kara gently, turning the two so that she would be in between Lena and the door.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Responds Lena with a widening smile. “I have to say, I am expecting great things from you Miss Kent.”

“I am hoping to fulfill all of your expectations and more.” Responds Kara her enthusiasm almost getting the better of her.

As Lena pulls her hand back at the surprising increase in pressure, a single shot rings out through the lab. The bullet shatters the supposedly bulletproof glass, and zips through the room and past all four occupants. Kara stands tall and uses her body to shield her employer, as her boss and Lena’s assistant crouch to the floor. Lena stands tall and stoic, looking with deathly intensity at the door.

The man steps through the shattered glass his riffle humming with a soft unearthly tone. Silently the man looks across the room, his goggled eyes scanning over the four. Lena focuses her attention on the gunman, as Kara’s eyes find the nearest alarm. The riffle barrel trains itself upon Lena, who tries but fails to move Kara out of the line of fire.

As a second shot rings out, the alarm on the wall bursts. The screech of the alarm echoes out across the building. The shooter hesitates but turns away from the women. He rushes out and back towards the stairs, Kara immediately turning to make sure Lena was okay.

*****

this is the opening for my Supergirl AU, I'm working on the rest of the story but its slow going, so i wanted to share this as a tease i guess.

#writing #lgbtq #fan fiction #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

95 notes · View notes

cheshiresense · 1 year ago

Text

[From Here]

Dithered over which pov to write next, figured I’d try Yuzu.

-0-

When Yuzu gets a phone call from Ichigo that they would be having two guests for dinner tonight, she is delighted. In all the years she’s known him, her brother has only ever introduced one person to them as something of a friend. Mizuiro is half a sibling at this point, trusted enough to be around them even when Ichigo isn’t, but before him, and after him, nobody else has ever caught Ichigo’s eye enough to warrant an actual invitation to dine with their family.

“They’re related to ghost stuff,” Ichigo adds bluntly, and Yuzu understands that to mean that these two will at least be tougher than the average yakuza on the street, even if they can’t match up to her brother.

“I understand!” She chirps back cheerfully. “I’ll let Karin know. I can’t wait to meet them!”

Then she hangs up, rolls up her sleeves, and gets to work in the kitchen. No guests of her brother’s will ever accuse them of being ungracious hosts on her watch.

(Karin comes home from soccer practice half an hour later. She laughs, as Yuzu does, when Yuzu tells her of their impending guests.)

-0-

Two hours later, Yuzu is putting the finishing touches on the meal when the sound of the door being unlocked carries through the apartment.

"Welcome home, Onii-chan!" She calls out, plating the last dish before carrying it over to the dining table. "Dinner's ready!"

She can hear Karin leaving their bedroom and coming down the hall on deliberately heavy footsteps. She appears just as Ichigo comes in from the front, Mizuiro a step behind him, with two men bringing up the rear, vaguely middle-aged at first glance, younger at the second, and then just ageless the more you stare.

They're tall, is Yuzu's first thought, but everybody's tall from her perspective. Still, they're taller than Ichigo, especially the one in the very back, and bigger too, even if they've got that same elegant dancer's gait her brother walks with, the one that whispers danger in the hindbrain even to those who don't know what to look for. They're also both blond, one darker than the other, but both with hair that nearly reach their shoulders. One wears modern clothing, the other more traditional, and one is empty-handed while the other carries a cane, but both of them take in the whole room in one calculating sweep that misses nothing. And they're both already smiling politely as they walk in, one with a harmless playful edge, the other with a harmless mysterious air, but both as fake as each other.

Yuzu exchanges a glance with Karin just to check she's not seeing things. Karin gives her the eyebrows that means she's noticed too.

Mizuiro had given off a far less dangerous aura when Ichigo had first brought him home. And he still feels much less threatening than these men now, no matter how much Guest One and Guest Two are probably trying to play it down. But back then, Mizuiro had also come in with sharp eyes and a guileless skin-deep smile, and that at least is exactly the same.

Their big brother sure does have a type. Yuzu sometimes wonders if Ichigo goes out and picks the most suspicious and unsettling people he can find to entertain him, or if he just somehow attracts them with his innate charm.

"My sisters, Karin, and Yuzu," Ichigo introduces without suspense, then jabs a thumb at Mizuiro. "And Mizuiro lives next door but he eats with us when we're here."

Then he gestures at the two men. "This is Hirako Shinji and Urahara Kisuke." He pauses for a brief half-second, and his eyes flash gold in Yuzu's, and Karin's, direction. "Hirako's a bit like me." He pauses again, and a funny half-smile hitches at one corner of his mouth. "They both are actually."

He says nothing else, so Yuzu takes that as her cue to sketch a neat half-bow paired with a bright smile. "Hello! It's nice to meet you!"

Beside her, Karin parrots the motion, if in a more perfunctory manner, but they weren't raised in a cave, so they know how to be courteous.

The men murmur back their own greetings even as their gazes shift back and forth between them and their brother like they're trying to pick up on a second unspoken conversation, but it's not as if there's anything for them to hear either way.

It's just that the introduction was short, names and little else, so Yuzu knows that they're equally untrustworthy, which makes sense because Ichigo couldn't have known them for more than a week or two. But the little else he'd tacked on had been a sign as well— not just that they're like him in some ways, in different ways, but also that Ichigo likes Hirako more than Urahara. Nevertheless, the fact that he'd brought them here at all means that they're interesting enough to make them both tolerable.

Yuzu understands, as does Karin, but they give no indication of it as everyone shuffles around to wash their hands, and Yuzu quickly scoops out a bowl of rice each for everyone in attendance.

"Onii-chan never invites anybody over, so I made a lot of extra food today," Yuzu tells them happily. "Please eat as much as you want!"

"Everythin' looks delicious," The darker blond, Hirako, grins at her, and this time, the expression seems more genuine. At the very least, it gives her a warmer feeling than the other blond, Urahara, who also smiles and trills agreement but radiates more distance than an overseas phone call.

Everyone settles around the dining table, although Mizuiro spares a moment to pull an exaggerated moue of aggrievement. "Never invites anybody over? Have I been forgotten, Yuzu-chan?"

Karin rolls her eyes while Yuzu giggles merrily. "You don't count, Mizuiro-nii-chan. You already eat with us almost every day anyway."

Mizuiro drops the act in favour of a smirk, though he looks pleased too, to be counted as family, as if the novelty of it still hasn't worn off. To be fair, it had taken a whole six months before Ichigo had been willing to leave him in the same vicinity as Yuzu and Karin on their own, and Yuzu knows that being trusted like that by her brother is no small feat.

Conversation drops as everybody begins digging in, and Yuzu lets her gaze drift casually over to their guests as they too pick up their bowls and chopsticks.

It's Urahara she lingers on first because he's the one who lifts his bowl to his mouth, only to stop at the last second, chopsticks poised. His expression doesn't really change, and the lapse only lasts a fraction of a second before he's moving again, smoothly pretending to eat a mouthful before lowering his bowl again, chewing and swallowing thin air masterfully. Even Yuzu only spots it because she's been watching the whole time from behind lowered eyelashes as she grabs some eggplant from one of the vegetable dishes.

She lets her gaze drop completely when she feels the man's eyes move from the food to her and then to Ichigo. Still, she can't quite suppress a pout, although she supposes she can't be too disappointed either since Hirako at least eats a good five bites of his rice before suddenly stiffening, glancing down sharply even as his eyes flicker with the same burnished gold colour that her brother possesses.

Then he looks up, looks at Urahara, looks at her, looks long at Ichigo, and then-

-he laughs. It's a bark of one that echoes with a snarl, except the mirth in it is also entirely genuine, enough for Yuzu to glance up with startled eyes. But the rest of the table does as well, so at least she doesn't stand out. Of course, that doesn't prevent Hirako from grinning at her, all teeth, with a bite that would feel like claws at her throat if not for the fact that it's coloured by something even warmer than when he'd complimented her spread. Appreciation, maybe.

"Is it the rice?" He muses candidly, and then actually eats another bite. "Nah, can't be, it was from the same cooker. It's the bowl, right? Not bad, I can't smell or taste anythin'."

Yuzu blinks and shares another look with Karin, who looks largely bored by the proceedings and hasn't stopped eating. Soccer practice always makes her hungry. But she also shrugs in agreement that Hirako is being sincere, so Yuzu relaxes and looks at her brother next.

Ichigo also hasn't stopped eating, although he isn't shovelling food into his mouth as speedily as Karin is. He swallows, glances leisurely at their guests, then looks back at her. "Not bad. Nothing in the food though?"

Yuzu frowns. "It's the first time you've invited them over, Onii-chan. I didn't want to scare them off."

Also, they're tolerable, and Ichigo even likes one of them, so she'd chosen the mildly poisoned bowls over the severely poisoned ones.

Ichigo just looks amused. "They don't scare easily."

Yuzu pouts again before glancing at their two guests, who are both watching them openly now. Hirako still looks like he's just heard a grand joke, while Urahara seems more than a little bemused, but neither of them feels angry.

Her big brother really is an excellent judge of character.

"You really didn't notice anything at all?" Yuzu asks in earnest, peering at Hirako before squinting at Urahara. "Then how come he did? And did you already shake the poison off?"

Hirako snorts and reaches for the communal chopsticks to swipe another chicken wing. "My... constitution's pretty good at negatin' toxins. And Kisuke's trained for this sort of thing."

Trained? Yuzu stares wide-eyed at Urahara long enough for the man to stop exuding caution and start manifesting awkwardness, which isn't what she wants so she hastily blurts out, "Are you really? So you can identify any poison? But the one I made is an original, so you shouldn't have come across it before."

Urahara stares back at her for a long blank-faced moment, not even bothering to stitch on a smile anymore, and like this, he matches the flat undercurrent of his emotions much better, like ice over water, except the water is the ocean and you don't know how deep it goes or what's waiting underneath.

"Ah," The man finally says, lifting a hand to his hat for a moment and pressing down on it so that his eyes are hidden. Then he looks up again and eyes her like he's seeing her for the first time and is pleasantly surprised by what he's found. "I may not know the exact poison, but I could still tell there was something off. Also, it's plant-based, isn't it?"

He pauses, and then, just like Hirako, he picks up his rice bowl again and swallows a decent mouthful, chewing almost thoughtfully beforehand. "And refined with reiatsu. That's actually more difficult to hide from me. Your technique is clumsy too. Give me an hour and I could probably also tell you the strains you crossed to make it. For now, at the very least, I can say there's definitely wisteria in this."

Yuzu is rendered speechless for a full five seconds. And then she snaps out of it and rounds on her brother with the best puppy eyes in her arsenal. She knows they don't actually work, but Ichigo tends to give in to her when she pulls them out anyway because it means she really wants something. "Onii-chan, you'll invite them back again, won't you? Urahara-san is amazing! I could learn so much if he teaches me!"

Ichigo's eyebrows go up for a moment in a way that speaks of indulgence, but he also glances lazily at Urahara before going back to his food. "Ask him yourself."

Yuzu pulls up short, always slightly stunned whenever her brother refuses her, even when it's not a direct refusal. But generally speaking, if she or Karin wants something enough to ask for it, Ichigo has always been the sort to simply make it happen for them. The only times he's ever refused is when he'd thought it too unnecessary - Karin really shouldn't have asked for a flamethrower for her birthday, it's unwieldy and she can't hide it in her backpack, plus they know how to make Molotov cocktails already anyway, which is almost the same thing - or when he'd considered it important for them to get what they want on their own, usually because it would make for a useful life skill in the future.

Never has it been because of a person.

But for the first time ever, this situation seems to have fallen into that exact category, which... She looks back at Urahara with more curiosity than before. For someone Ichigo only finds tolerable, something about this man has... impressed him? Is that what's going on here? Not even Mizuiro has ever succeeded in that before, so for once, Yuzu has no precedent to draw from.

Well, that doesn't matter right now. The important thing is that Urahara will probably remain in her big brother's life for some time to come, which means-

"Urahara-san!" She shoots to her feet, chair clattering back with the force of it as she bows. "Please teach me more about poisons! It's okay if it's just a little bit, whenever you have time. I promise I'll work hard! And of course, I can pay for the lessons!"

She does some mental tallying. There's a bake sale coming up for her club, and the venue they've chosen is close enough to the Karakura border to attract people from the neighbouring town. If she plays her cards right, some thugs from nearby yakuza groups probably wouldn't mind donating to her cause. Pretty little girls offering pretty little cakes are bound to reel in at least a few idiots.

Of course, she'll have to ask Ichigo to get rid of them afterwards. It's better not to risk putting anything too lethal into a school bake sale, just in case of an accident, so she'll have to stick with upset stomachs at most. Once they've paid up, Ichigo can make them disappear. Those upset stomachs can get really gross, and blood and guts aren't much better if cleanup gets messy, so Yuzu would rather not deal with that part.

Unlike her siblings who don't mind it, Yuzu is unfortunately something of a clean freak. Karin always taunts her about having inherited their father's delicate constitution, and Yuzu can't even refute it, no matter how insulted she feels. It's seriously unfair because she can gut a fish in the kitchen no problem, but human intestines make her gag.

"I-" Urahara starts, jolting her out of her thoughts. The man looks taken aback all over again, and like he's missed a step somewhere. He even feels a bit nervous as he whips out a paper fan of all things, one that hides half his face from view. His gaze bounces between her and her brother, emitting enough anxious vibes that Yuzu suddenly wants to give him an emotional support dog or something. "I'm not sure I would be the... best choice for this sort of thing, Kurosaki-san."

Yuzu is unsure who he's talking to, but just in case it's her, she rearranges her face into the most kicked puppy look of disappointment she's capable of. "Why not? You know your poisons, and it looks like it'll be hard for me to kill you. Onii-chan can only teach me so much, it's not really his area, so I've only been able to trial-and-error it for months now. But I'm a quick learner, and I swear I'll listen to anything you're willing to teach me. Or, is it the money? Just name your price."

Even if she can't come up with it all on her own, she's certain Ichigo will help pay the rest. Honestly, even if it's within her budget, he'll just pour the same amount she shells out back into her bank account. The only reason they have to go in a big circle like this is because Ichigo wants them to learn how to handle money responsibly.

"That's not-" Urahara stops again, then snaps his fan shut, and then all of a sudden, it's like a wall comes up, and everything about him shuts down. He straightens, features as unreadable as the rest of him, and then he turns to Ichigo so that it's unmistakeable who he's talking to this time. "Kurosaki-san, is this really alright?"

Ichigo's basically finished eating at this point. Karin gets up for another bowl of rice. Mizuiro watches them like he's binging one of his romance dramas. And Hirako has his head propped up against one loose fist, eyes half-lidded but intent.

In response, Ichigo only shrugs. "I mean, you can say no. But like she said, I can't teach her much more than I already have, and it's not like she's gonna find a better teacher than you at this point, right?"

"And where did you learn it from?" Urahara asks, grey eyes riveted on Ichigo with the sort of focus that feels like he might've forgotten anyone else even exists.

Ichigo actually quirks a smile, sardonically amused. "Same place I learned everything else."

He doesn't expand on it, keeping the conversation on track instead, much to Yuzu's delight. "Anyway, if you're asking for permission, obviously it's a yes. I wouldn't have let her ask in the first place if I wasn't okay with it. And she's smart. You could do worse for a part-time student."

Urahara remains motionless and unblinking for another few seconds. "...Was this why you invited us for dinner?"

Ichigo shrugs again. "Not really. It's not like I knew you knew poisons. I just thought my sisters should meet you, that's all."

"And why's that?" Hirako interjects, also watching Ichigo with gleaming eyes that never waver. "Cuz ya don't seem the type to let jus' anyone get close to your nearest and dearest."

Ichigo turns to him, and his eyes are fond in a way they very rarely are when aimed at anyone not Yuzu or Karin or Mizuiro. It's not quite on the same level, but it does make it even more obvious that Hirako has her brother's favour.

"I thought it'd be good if they knew a few Shinigami," Ichigo says offhandedly, although judging by the slight stir of surprise from both guests, they hadn't expected he would just come out and say it. Or perhaps they're surprised he's talking about it in front of Yuzu and Karin and Mizuiro? But they're family. Yuzu doesn't know everything about Ichigo, but that's just because she doesn't want to know that much about her brother's life, not because Ichigo wouldn't tell her if she or Karin asks.

"You seem like you might bring trouble to my doorstep one day," Ichigo says, somewhat out of the blue, and all at once, Urahara tugs at his hat again just as Yuzu gets a sense of shifty-eyed discomfort all but waving support lights over the man's head. Hirako sort of feels the same, but in a less... personal way.

So whatever's going on, Urahara's probably the one in charge.

Ichigo seems to sense it too, or he's long guessed it considering his not great feelings for Urahara. Either way, he scoffs, and the light in his eyes says he's annoyed, but not annoyed enough to do something permanent about it. Yet. "Yeah, that's what I thought. So I figured it's better for you to know who you should do your very best to protect if shit goes down around them, because otherwise, I might not even feel like hearing you out. Understand?"

Hirako glances at Yuzu, at Karin, even at Mizuiro, then he turns back to Ichigo, solemn in a way Yuzu hasn't seen since they met, "I understand."

It sounds like a promise.

Ichigo hums, satisfied. Neither of them prods at Urahara for an answer, and Urahara doesn't give one. He feels flat again, like a scrap of paper.

"So like I said," Ichigo continues briskly. "If you wanna teach her, knock yourself out. You can send me the bill."

Yuzu beams at him. Looks like she won't have to waste any cakes.

From his seat, Urahara heaves a sigh, and now he just seems tired and still a bit baffled, but he also finally looks at her again like he's assessing her potential. Yuzu straightens and adopts her best imploring face.

This of all things makes Urahara's mouth twitch, and he even feels amused, except it's the sort of amusement that's all wrapped up in razor-wire mockery. That bit doesn't show on his face of course. Still, Yuzu's fingers suddenly itch with the urge to swap out his bowl with the other one after all.

"So clumsy," The man muses, one finger tapping at the cane leaning against his chair. "...Very well, I suppose I may have a few things I can impart to a budding... chemistry enthusiast. On one condition however. And I don't want money."

He looks at Ichigo again, except he doesn't say anything. Ichigo seems to understand anyway because a grin pulls at his lips, a touch too savage to fit on a human face, and aimed at anyone else, Yuzu knows they wouldn't even have time to pick out a coffin.

Urahara seems to be an exception. It makes Yuzu wonder if he's just that strong, certain in his ability to forever remain stronger than her brother, or if he's simply gambling with his life, and it's Ichigo instead who's decided to be uncharacteristically patient.

She hopes it's not the former, because she has no faith in anyone who thinks themselves capable of staying ahead of her brother forever. But if it's the latter, then maybe she'll have enough time to wheedle out everything Urahara knows of poisons before Ichigo snaps and kills him.

"That seems a bit unbalanced," Ichigo remarks.

Urahara inclines his head, and this time, his voice rings of the same vow that had reverberated in Hirako's earlier. "Upon my blade, my life before your family's, should the worst come to pass."

Ichigo laughs, soft and without humour. "This trouble must be something else. That, or you don’t think your life’s worth all that much. But fine. We'll hash it out tomorrow. Keep your word, and I might even go along with whatever you and your people have been cooking up. But Yuzu gets to bug you for lessons any day of the week from now on."

And once again, between one breath and the next, Urahara trades the gravity for the false affability from before.

It's like watching a performance, Yuzu thinks.

She glances at her brother and watches him watch Urahara, still annoyed, still a bit like he could put a knife through the other's ribs if it wouldn't mean the hassle of mopping blood off the floor.

Ichigo likes Hirako. Yuzu does too, even though they just met not even half an hour ago. There's something about him that makes him approachable and friendly despite the very obvious beast lurking beneath his skin. But that too might be part of the charm because Yuzu's long used to the same thing from her brother. Knowing even just that much, it's not a shock that Ichigo has clicked with him - a fellow monster - in a way he never has even with Mizuiro.

But Urahara is different. Urahara is treated with tolerance only, with irritation and discontent and even derision, on and off. But Yuzu knows that her brother has killed people for a whole lot less than that, and yet here Urahara sits at their family's table while Ichigo looks at him from time to time, tolerant and irritated and discontent and derisive, and he can't stop looking.

She wonders if even her brother is aware of what he's doing.

"I'll leave my number," The man offers, complete with a genial smile. "And you may stop by my shop anytime. Allow me a few days, and I shall have some reading material organized for you."

Yuzu perks up, nods, and finally sits back down, then gets up again to fetch two extra bowls of rice, this time clean of any poison. Hirako snickers but accepts his with a nod. Urahara does the same, with that same winning smile, and then dinner restarts, this time uninterrupted.

Well, who cares if Ichigo is aware or not? He’ll figure it out sooner or later. And besides, it’s all the same in the end— people who push her brother too far will face the consequences, and those who don't will not. That's just the simple truth of it.

But in the meantime, Urahara at least won't be going anywhere, which means Yuzu can finally get some guidance for one of her favourite hobbies, and honestly, that's all she really cares about.

#bleach #myscrap #stunted empathy verse #kurosaki ichigo #kurosaki yuzu #kurosaki karin #hirako shinji #urahara kisuke #kojima mizuiro #this excerpt should be called #no child raised by a monster could possibly be fangless #or normal #and yes ichigo protects his sisters well but also he says the best protection is teaching them how to protect themselves #and the twins just extrapolated from there b/c they may be softer compared to ichigo but that's not rly saying much #anyway yes yuzu and karin have their own little abilities #they're not as strong as ichigo but they have their ThingTM #yuzu's very good at sensing emotions tied up in someone's reiryoku #also kind of obsessed with poison #as she once told her big brother: making poison is just extreme cooking #ichigo didn't rly mean to raise her like this but it's the niche she's growing into and she owns it #and ichigo doesn't see a problem with that #you should encourage your kids' hobbies after all #also lmao this may end up kisuke/ichigo/shinji instead

483 notes · View notes

daisygirlwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Rookie Mistake

Summary: Alternative title, How You Got Your Call Sign

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, minor character death

Pairing(s): Task Force 141 x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Only description of the reader is that she’s short

a/n: hey there! first and foremost, big thanks to @einno-arko for editing it! please check out her page! it has been a long time since i’ve written a fanfic so do forgive me for how rough this is. it is also 3 in the morning as im typing, woops. also, would love to hear feedback so i can make improvements in future works. thank y’all!

Being short has its advantages at times. For your job as a sniper, you could be placed anywhere without being seen. During your basic and special forces training, where most people are at least a head taller than you, you were taught techniques for someone only your size can pull off.

The man in front of you is probably the tallest person you’ve seen on the field. At least two feet taller than you and all muscle. ‘Tank’, his teammates call him. Truly matches the description. You try not to think about how one of his hands can wrap around your neck and squeeze the life out of you.

Instead, you pull out your knife and charge towards him. He runs towards you, arms up and ready to take a swing. Expecting a punch, you lean your upper body forward, keeping your head low. On your last step, you push upwards with your foot. Tank misses you, his stance uneven and his legs still wide open.

For a millisecond, you thought about slicing the area between his thighs, making things easier for you in the long run. Instead, you stick with the training that’s been engraved into your head. Diving in the open space between his legs, you run your knife through his inner thigh, hoping it’s deep enough to at least damage the femoral artery.

Tank lets out a scream and staggers forward as you slide down on the floor. With his back to you, you push your body up and sprint towards him. The ideal situation is for you to get to him and pull his head back enough to slice his throat. But life isn’t always ideal.

To your shock, he quickly gets up onto his feet and turns around, facing you. As if his strength doubled, he knocks the knife out of your hand and, for a split second, your eyes follow the knife as it flies across the room. That was all Tank needed, grabbing both of your arms and lifting you up. Yeah, you should have just sliced his dick.

It was at this time that the rest of the team entered the room. The sight was almost comical; you being held up, legs dangling like a rag doll. Tank casts a quick glance from the corner of his eye. All four men with their rifles up, pointing towards the two of you, but it was the one with a skull mask that made his body break out into a cold sweat. Four against one are really bad odds, especially with an injured leg.

Tank still has you held out, practically using you as a human shield for the upper half of his body. But with your insistent wiggling and attempts at kicking him, it becomes more difficult for him to keep a grip on you.

He knows that he probably won’t leave this room alive, and he’d rather die than to surrender. Tank goes through his options, looking at the small soldier in his hands. ‘Should have grabbed them by the neck.’ As soon as he makes a move, the men in front of him will too.

“Just drop them mate!” A heavy Scottish accent is heard throughout the room.

Tank stays silent, eyes darting around the room, trying to find the means of escape. His train of thought became illogical. As he looks around his environment, he tries to avoid meeting the eyes of the man with the skull mask. ‘Ghost’ is his name. His dark eyes never leave Tank’s.

If he’s going to Hell, he won’t be going alone. Spotting the window to his right, his body moved before his brain could process what was happening. Tank twists his upper body and, with the last of his strength, he hurls you through the glass

During your time with the team, which was about six months when you first joined, you’ve kept quiet. Never raising your voice and only talking when you’re addressed. So, when they hear you yelp and let out a high-pitched scream as they watch your body crash through the window, they would have laughed if the circumstances were different.

As soon as your body stopped shielding him, Ghost took the shot. He watched as the large man slammed down to his knees, blood running down his face from the bullet hole on his head, before finally falling forward.

Getting thrown out the window sounds fun, besides landing on the glass and the very high chance of death. Any other person would have a couple of broken bones, but it seems like you had lady luck on your side today. For one, the warehouse is only one story high, and you’re all padded up. Without your gear and helmet, there would have been more puncture points from the shards. But the impact from hitting the ground doesn’t leave you unscathed. Something is probably broken, sprained, if not bruised. You don’t feel it now but it’s going to suck ass later. Laying on your side, you look around, trying to not move your body in the process. There are probably hundreds, maybe even thousands, of glass shards surrounding you.

“ROOKIE!” Soap comes running towards you.

You open your mouth, wanting to tell him to be careful but Ghost’s rough voice cuts you off. “Dammnit Johnny, watch out for the fuckin’ glass!”

Soap slows his movements, making calculated hops to avoid the sharp shards. “Heya lassie, how ya feeling?”

Not having the energy for a filter, you responded. “Felt like I got thrown out a window. Fuckin’ hell, Soap, what do you think?!”

Seeing his eyes widen, you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth. “Holy shit, Soap. I am so sorry.”

He lets out a hearty laugh as he stops before you. He gives you a look over, trying to find any visibly large shards of glass embedded in your body. Seeing as there isn’t any visible, Soap sticks his hand out. Surprised to find how badly your arm is shaking, he gently grabs your forearm and pulls you up.

“You really are Ghost’s mini-me,” he chuckles.

“Huh?”

“Already picking up his humor and stealing his catchphrase.”

“Oh!” You look down, thanking your balaclava for hiding your flushed face.

With his arm under yours, you lean on him, slowly limping your way towards the rest of the team. Price took another look at you, spotting at least a dozen little glass shards that punctured your jacket and pants. “Best to have the med team take them out of you. The heli will be here in five.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into your head. You realize that during your next training sessions, he’s going to roast the ever living fuck out of you about what happened today. Dread begins to sink in.

—

With your left arm bare and the interior of the heli cold, you try to minimize your shivering so that the medic can properly do their job. You guessed that the guys would at least wait until you get back to base before they made jokes, but you were very wrong.

“Rookie, you literally got yeeted out the window.” Gaz was the first to break the silence.

“Yes, Gaz, I know.”

“We should have a contest to see how far each of us can throw her.” Soap barked out, joining in on the teasing.

“I would prefer not, Soap.”

And it went on for a little while longer, and you, again, were thankful for having your balaclava on so they wouldn’t see that you’re dying on the inside.

“Probably gonna stop calling you Rookie now.” Much to everyone’s surprise, they turn to Ghost.

You tilt your head, confused, before he continues. He stares at you, the heli quiet besides the hum of the wings. A beat later he speaks up again, “I think I’ll call you Crash.”

You follow with an immediate, “Oh hell no.”

At this point, Soap and Gaz are giggling like schoolgirls. Price turns away, lips pulled tight but his shoulders shaking up and down in muffled laughter. Ghost’s eyes narrow, but you can tell he has a smug grin under his mask.

“Crash it is then!”

“Don’t encourage him, Soap!”

“Sorry lassie, it’s law now, we outrank you.” He smiles at you.

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you let out a quiet chuckle. Lifting your head up from your hand, you quietly say, “Fine. Just don’t tell anyone about this”

You watch Soap nod and Gaz give you a thumbs up before you pull down your balaclava, giving them a smile.

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price x reader

2K notes · View notes

dira333 · 9 months ago

Text

Glass Heart, take flight - Asahi x Reader

A/N: Soulmate AU, requested for the Follower Celebration, tagging @screamin-abt-haikyuu because DUH!

You’ve got a Glass Heart tattooed just below your left ear.

It’s small enough to hide behind your hair or a pair of earrings if you want to.

You don’t know when you’ve got it. It’s what happens to people who are too young when they meet their soulmate. You're pretty sure you know who it was though, not that it helps.

Gravel flies everywhere as you fall off the swing. You’d meant to fly as high as you dared, when someone grabbed chains from behind, bringing you to an abrupt stop. You fall face first, tears spilling over your bruised cheeks way before you can start wailing.

“Are you okay?” Someone asks, picking you up with ease. For a moment, you think it’s someone’s parent, but when long fingers carefully grab your chin and turn your face around to inspect the damage, you see it’s a boy, maybe a few years older than you, lanky and long-haired.

His touch is soft and tickles, surprising you enough to stop crying.

“Who are you?” You ask.

Your words break whatever spell there had been. He jumps back, blushing.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He moves back, step after step after step. You try to grab him, what for, you don’t know yet. But you miss, nothing but air between your outstretched hands.

“I’ll go grab your Mum,” he insists, jogging away.

“What school are you going to next year?” Miri asks over Lunch.

Your fingertips find the little heart beneath your ear that appeared last night.

“Sekodai,” you tell her as confidently as you’ll ever be.

“Ah.” She nods. “They’ve got a great Volleyball Club, or so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “But I’m more into art.” And cute guys. But you don’t say that out loud.

“Hi. I’m from Class 1.5. Could I draw you? It’s for the Art Club.”

You watch as he blushes, the redness reaching even the tops of his ears.

“I…” He stammers helplessly.

“Dang, Asahi!” One of his classmates whistles lowly. “You’ve got game!”

“I…” His voice’s barely a voice anymore. It sounds more like a kettle whistling. Well, at least you know his name now. He cut his hair shorter and it’s wavy, framing his face in a way that makes you want to drag your hands through it. Or paint it, whatever he’ll allow.

“Please?” You ask. “It won’t take long. It’s just a sketch.”

“F-Fine…” He’s still red-faced when he arrives for the session, relaxes only slightly when he realizes that he’s not the only one.

Most students have asked their classmates to sit for their panting. He’s not the only third-year, but the teacher eyes him curiously.

“Do you need something?” She asks. “We normally don’t have high schoolers visiting.”

“I-I… I’m a student here.” Asahi stutters helplessly. “Third year.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “How old are you then?”

“He looks older than he is.” You interrupt, reaching forward to take his hand, to pull him away from the discussion he’s clearly dreading.

Asahi pulls his hand away like you’re a snake, ready to bite.

It hurts more than you let on.

He barely speaks as he sits for his portrait. Today’s lesson is meant to be in black and white and while you’re glad he agreed to sit for you, you hate the fact that all his blushing is lost to you. You can do nothing more but hope the image will burn itself into your brain, for that you’ll never go without it.

When you’re done and you turn the canvas for him to see, he stills.

A multitude of emotions flickers over his face, each too fast for you to catch before he bows so low you fear for his spine.

“Thank you for considering me.” He presses through his teeth and darts from the room and you pretend you don’t notice that he takes a few extra steps to avoid the risk of touching you.

The sound of a whistle cuts through your heart.

Below you, Karasuno loses, Dateko wins.

Asahi’s grown taller in the two years you haven’t seen him. His hair has grown out too.

But there’s added weight on his shoulders, you can tell by the way he walks.

Your fingertips reach for the Glass Heart below your ear. You wonder how it’s holding up now.

“Are you sure you wanna go to this school?” Miri asks next to you. “I mean, you don’t have to come to Aoba Johsei with me, we’ve been friends for long enough, but you got a ride to Shiratorizawa.”

“No, I want this one,” you say, your voice firm.

Miri sighs. “Well, at least the Art Club there isn’t bad.”

Barely one week into the school year you get the chance to deliver some papers to the Third Year Classes.

Well, the task had been meant for the “strong boys” in your Class, but you’re too stubborn to take the hint.

Now you’re sweating under the weight of too many folders to count and your hair is sticking to your face in a way you hope is looking cutely disheveled instead of ready-to-murder-you.

“Ah, thank you. That looks pretty heavy, didn’t Takeda-Sensei send someone with you?” The teacher asks. You ignore her words and let your eyes run through the Classroom. There, a little bit further back, sits Asahi.

When your eyes meet his there’s instant recognition. You’d be proud about it, proud that he remembers you even two years later if he didn’t turn away right after. Your heart plummets all the way to your feet, but you need to keep up the facade as well as the weight of folders in your arms.

“Azumane,” his teacher orders. “You’re tall and strong. Help this student out, will you?”

He blushes furiously, but he gets up nonetheless and walks out stiffly.

You pull your sweater over your hands, one by one, so that he won’t have to fear touching you before you offer the folders for him to take.

“I…” He starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

It happens. There are Soulmates who don’t fall in love.

You never thought you’d be one of them.

If only you’d have been born without a stubborn head as well.

It would make everyone’s lives easier.

“Can I walk you home?” You ask, stepping out of the little shed that holds the bicycles.

Asahi flinches away like you’re the one towering over other people.

“What? How? I..” He stammers.

You shrug and pull the straps of your backpack a little tighter to hide your shaking hands.

“Can I?” You ask again.

He stares, wordlessly.

“You don’t have to agree, I can just follow you home on my own, two steps behind you so you don’t see me sneaking.”

That brings something like a smile to his face but he turns away to hide it the moment it flickers over his lips.

But he starts walking and you rush to catch up to him, taking two steps everytime he takes one.

“You know,” you say, a little breathlessly when you need to tackle an incline, “As much as Hinata’s going on my nerves, I think he’s good for the team.”

Asahi stops again. “You know Hinata?”

“Uh, yeah. Everyone knows Hinata. Also, I’m a First Year.”

“Right.”

He walks two steps before stopping again.

“You know about the team?”

“Yeah?” You huff, trying to hide the fact that you’re already out of breath. “The only reason I’m not a manager is because I’m way better at art than I ever was at managing.”

“Why don’t you play?”

You point at yourself, still unable to take a proper breath after less than five minutes of jogging next to him. He doesn’t seem to understand.

“I’ve got the Athletic Genes of a Muffin,” you translate when you can breathe a little better. On the other side of the hill, the sun sets the sky on fire. “But I think it’s all the same. It doesn’t matter if you paint or play Volleyball, really. Humans have no wings, so they search for other ways to fly.”

When you look back at him, there’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It makes you nervous and you swallow thickly, try to regain the composure you’ve had before.

“Do you… do you believe in Soulmates?” You ask, your mind running on empty.

“Sure.” His voice sounds weirdly detached. His face is tinted golden from the sunset.

“Is this why you don’t want to be touched?” It’s a guess, really. He could still be a germaphobe. But he flinches like you’ve caught him.

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“It’s a great burden,” he admits, quietly, staring at the sun. “What if they touch you and then you’ve got a mark but they don’t like you like that? You’d always be tied to them, whether they wanted that or not. I’d rather not put that on anyone.”

“It’s a bit late for that.” The words slip out your mouth too fast for you to catch them. You’d wanted to say something else, to put it differently. But he understands nonetheless, his head snapping over.

You pull your hair back to reveal the Glass Heart below your ear.

Whatever you thought would happen, doesn’t.

Asahi takes a step back instead of forward. You can see the doubt cloud his mind.

“Please.” You step forward, lunge for his arm like you’ve done all those years before on the playground.

This time, your hand closes around his wrist. It tickles.

But Asahi is taller, stronger, faster than you. When the turns to run, you’ve got no chance to follow.

The boy is about as tall as Hinata, dark hair with one bleached strand that makes it look like he’s being hit by lightning.

You remember hearing Yamaguchi talk about him, but his name is lost on you.

“Can I help you?” You ask rather rudely. You haven’t slept well ever since that evening. It’s been a week and it’s starting to catch up to you.

You wonder if you’ve left a mark on Asahi. Maybe you’d read it all wrong. Maybe you’d run after the wrong guy all these years.

“Are you in the Art Club?” He asks.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Thanks?”

He grins, gives you a thumbs up and leaves. Whatever that was, you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

It takes two more times of him showing up until you learn his name.

Nishinoya-senpai is weirdly adamant about getting to know you. He’s also hilariously bad at it, spending most of his time telling you about how great he did at training today, how he almost couldn’t save a ball Asahi had spiked, or how their manager is the prettiest being in the whole wide world.

“Why are you here?” You ask when he catches you after school. You’re in the middle of washing your brushes and you’d like it very much if your heart just gave in. But it has been two weeks and you still cannot stop thinking about Asahi. Even though you haven’t seen him since that evening. Has he stopped going to school?

“I’m a friend of Asahi.” He tells you.

“Aha.”

“He talks about you a lot.”

“Sure he does.” The sarcasm in your voice would be enough for two more people.

“No, really, he does. I think you’re Soulmates. But you know, we didn’t win against Dateko last year and… well, I think he needs to prove to himself that he’s worthy- Are you okay?”

You can taste the salt of your own tears. You nod, hoping he will leave you alone. He doesn’t.

“What does it matter?” You ask. Not necessarily Nishinoya, but if he’s not willing to leave you alone, he’s going to have to deal with it. “What does it matter if he wins or loses? Isn’t he worthy no matter what?” You try to dry your nose on your sleeve but the tears just won’t stop.

There’s a more pressing question to it all, a question you hadn’t dared voice before but it won’t leave your mind so why not give it the room it craves?

“Am I even worthy?”

When your tears finally dry, Nishinoya is gone.

Well, you’ve always known that not all boys are created equal. Some just cannot deal with tears.

“Can I walk you home?” Asahi asks, stepping out of the little shed that holds the bicycles.

You flinch. You thought you’d be the last one to leave.

“You don’t have to agree,” he stutters. “I-I can just follow you home on my own, t-two steps behind you…”

“Why?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from crying.

“Nishinoya told me… About what you said.”

“So?”

Asahi stretches out his arm. His shirt is pulled back.

On his wrist is something you haven’t seen before. Two black wings spread out on either side, like a bird taking flight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” he tells you. “If you want, you can take my hand.”

You move to grab it, half expecting him to pull away again. But his hand is warm, big enough to swallow yours and he squeezes back even as he blushes furiously.

“What about Dateko?” You ask, not willing to let go. “What about being worthy?”

“I tend to get lost in my own head,” he confesses. “I doubt that will ever change. But, I- I want you to know that I never doubted that you were worthy. I knew ever since we met for the first time, well, I hoped, but I… I didn’t want to-”

“Put a burden on me, I know.” You nod and squeeze his hand at the same time. “You’re going to have to get used to it, you know? I’ve got pretty strong shoulders.”

You can’t see the sunset from where you’re standing. But the way Asahi smiles makes you think you don’t need to anyway. He’ll always be golden anyway.

“Careful, door opening.” Asahi announces, one arm on your back as he guides you into the coffee shop.

Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, but you trust your fiancé that he will keep you safe on your early morning hunt for breakfast.

He orders for the two of you, squinting down over your shoulder every once in a while to check in on your live feed.

Your newest art project hasn’t been online for long and the comments are flowing in almost too fast for you to read.

It’s only when Asahi awkwardly clears his throat behind you that you look up. You spot it right away.

“Excuse me?”

The Barista looks up right away, flinching slightly when she locks eyes with you.

“He asked for oat milk. That’s soy.”

“Sorry, I mixed that up.”

“No worries, just making sure.” You smile as Asahi deflates behind you, leaning all his weight onto your shoulders.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your ear. “I wouldn’t have been able to say anything.”

“I know.” Your right hand finds his, squeezes tight. “That’s why we’ve got each other.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #Asahi x Reader #Asahi Azumane #Asahi Fluff #Asahi Azumane Fluff #Haikyuu x Reader #Haikyuu Fluff

174 notes · View notes

shinestarhwaa · 2 years ago

Note

So I can't stop thinking about Ateez incubi-

But like...you're a nympho and they show up all "HA IMA SEX YOU"

and you're all "OH FUK YEAH" and they don't know what they are in for.

I keep wondering how each one would react to the tables being turned and the utter panic or if they'd love it.

I'm crazy and I've been on here too long.

An OT8 Incubus fic? Lord. I have never written anything like this before so pls bare with me and forgive me for any mistakes. I'm not too familiar with fantasy stuff but the incubi themes have caught my attention a few times before so I thought I'd give it a go. It has been weeks or months since you've asked this so I'm sorry for the long wait, but it's here. <3

SAY MY NAME | OT8

Genre: Smut

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main

Pairing: OT8 Ateez x Fem reader

Word count: 4.1K (of 100% smut)

Warnings/tags: Incubus!Ateez (sexdemons), vulgarity, pure filth, unprotected sex, oral sex, anal sex, face/throatfucking, dirty talk, reader is such a menace and a brat like man Wooyoung seriously found his match, degrading, choking, namecalling (whore, slut), fingering, some m x m action, huge dicks fr, they're all hundreds of years old (and San and Hongjoong are kind of their leaders), Yunho is a rookie incubus lol, SO many orgasms, overstimulation, nipple play ig, cum eating, hairpulling, squirting

Let me know if you wanna be on my taglist❣️

This will be absolute pure smut so read at your own risk lol

ENJOY!

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you could feel something was up. The atmosphere was uneasy, yet you were unsure why. You sat up straight, rubbing your eyes, trying to focus.

''Look at that, guys, she's already showing off her beautiful tits,'' a voice suddenly called. You frowned, scanning the room until you saw shadows, eight to be exact. You looked at the shadows, back to yourself, noticing the blanket that pooled around your legs, breasts left uncovered. You had the tendency to sleep naked as it felt like freedom to you.

''Look at those... Nipples already hard.''

The shadows came closer, revealing eight men - were they men? They were bare chested, muscular, cloaks around their shoulders what seemed to be gorgeous red and black wings. Their legs were muscular, showing through the leathery-latex fabric of their pants. One of the shorter ones stepped forward, the buckles on his boots making a little noise with every step.

''Hello there, little one,'' he said, running his hand through his bright blue hair. ''Who... Or what are you?'' you asked, although you kinda had a feeling that you knew what was coming. ''Me? I'm an incubus, my dear, and you can call me Hongjoong, you'll need to know what when you'll be screaming my name,'' he smirked. You swallowed thickly, feeling the arousal pool between your legs.

One of the taller ones took a deep breath, gasping. ''Can you smell that, boys? How horny she already is? She barely met us and already cannot help herself,'' he smirked. You bit your lip. ''So you boys just- sorry... You incubi... just came into my room to fuck me?'' The second incubi stepped forward, coming closer to your bed. ''We sure are. And you have no other option than to fucking take it, take our cocks... I can't wait for you to take mine baby, you'll be screaming my name... Seonghwa, until you cry...,'' he spat, leaning into you.

''Who said I didn't wanna take it? Having eight little guys fight for me and wanting me on their little cocks sounds pretty good actually,'' you teased. You couldn't care less about them being incubi, being a brat was in your blood. ''I'm fucking ready,'' you said as you threw the blanket off yourself, revealing your naked body. ''Come and get it,'' you winked at them, noticing they were already hardening in their pants.

''Oh? A little girl who thinks she can handle eight incubi at once? You don't know what you are doing, little one,'' the tallest one said, stepping forward. ''Well, puppy boy, you don't know what you are in for,'' you smirked, crawling over to the foot of the bed, where he was standing. Your fingertips travelled up and down his chest and abs, making his breath hitch in his throat.

''Earth to Yunho? What do you think you're doing? You're such an idiot, you're a newbie and it shows,'' another one complained, rolling his eyes. He was much smaller, but he was muscular and feisty, making you curious. ''Wooyoung shutup, I'm only 139 years old!'' Yunho grunted, making Wooyoung laugh.

''139 huh? You'd be the oldest person I've ever had,'' you smirked, teasing him more. ''No, I will be the oldest you've ever had, and we are not so called persons, we're fucking incubi. I'm 456 years old so you better respect me, hm?'' another one said, lifting your chin up with his thick fingers. ''Mhm, alright daddy,'' you winked. The cat-like incubi rolled his eyes. ''It's San.''

''San... Sannie? Is your cock as big as a mountain?'' you giggled, teasing him as well. ''You must've been a cat in your previous life, you look like you could meow any second now.'' San grabbed you by your throat, grunting as you palmed his hardened cock. ''Who do you think you are, little one? That's none of your business. I'll fuck this brattiness right out of your little ass,'' he said as he threw you back on the bed. You got him right where you wanted, not caring that you were actually playing with evil, not caring about being careful.

San stripped himself from his black pants, revealing his big, hard cock. ''Oh? No underwear? That's kinky. Do none of you wear underwear under that?'' ''I'll fucking show you kinky,'' San said as he wrapped his hand around your throat. You whined when you felt the restriction on your throat combinated with San's thick fingers sliding through your wet folds.

''Gosh, how are you this fucking wet,'' the demon called Wooyoung breathed out, palming his own cock through his pants. San rubbed your sensitive clit, causing you to whine out. ''You act so tough, Y/N, but we are so much more powerful,'' he cooed, ''you act as if we're people... But we are incubi, my love, we are meant to sex you the fuck up... Fuck you endlessly, fill you up with our devilish seeds... bet you'd be into that huh? Wanna get fucked by a couple demons like the whore you are? Hm? We know all about it princess, we know all about how much of a whore you are for a little dick,'' San grunted, pumping one finger inside your cunt, causing you to moan out.

The sensation was so much more intense with a demon compared to a human being, you noticed. Only one finger left you completely needy and in desire for the eight of their cocks. San pumped two of his fingers inside you, making your arousal flow through you and dripping down your pussy.

''Look at you, such a pathetic little slut,'' another incubus smirked, walking forward. He was fully undressed and you couldn't help but be surprised and impressed by his thighs and thick, proud cock. ''You just love being used, isn't that right?'' ''Yes... uhm...'' you breathed out. ''Jongho, is my name, darling.'' You nodded, ''Yes, Jongho.''

''I believe you need all your holes filled, so why don't you open up your mouth babygirl,'' Jongho smirked, hovering above your face. He faced San instead of the wall so he could be in charge of shoving his dick down your throat, which he did, making you gulp around his cock.

San smirked, pumping his two fingers in and out of your sopping cunt at a rapid pace. You moaned around Jongho's large cock as he fucked your throat. With his heavy balls covered your face you couldn't help but lift your hands up and squeeze them, play with them and fondle them. Jongho moaned out loud, surprising the other demons.

''Look at that little girl, she's taking them so well, I wonder how she takes cock in her little cunt,'' a very pretty demon said. ''I know right, Yeosang, she's swallowing my fingers so well, so eager,'' San replied, putting a third finger inside you. You felt intoxicated by the feeling and the sexual tension lingering in the air. You couldn't help but moan loudly, even with Jongho's cock in your mouth.

''God, you, moaning around my cock like that... Is it that good huh? Is Sannie making you feel that good?'' Jongho cooed. You whined loudly as you felt San hit all the right spots inside you. Jongho started groaning and pulled out of your throat. You gasped loudly, barely adjusting before it was filled with a new cock. You had barely seen the face of the demon, but it was quick to tell you his name.

''I'm Mingi, nice to meet you,'' he said as he started fucking your mouth. He was even girthier than Jongho was. He pounded your throat hard and quick and you were nearly choking and tears streamed down your cheeks as his groans got louder gradually. He came across as a bit of a goofy one before when you saw him, but the way he made you gag around his dick made you nearly cum on San's fingers, who quickly withdrew them as Mingi orgasmed, spilling inside your mouth without a warning.

San gestured Wooyoung to come closer, making him open his mouth. The oldest slid his slick fingers into Wooyoungs mouth, smirking. ''How does she taste, baby?'' Baby? ''Like fucking hell, Sannie,'' Wooyoung smirked. You looked worried for a second. ''Oh no, that's a compliment!'' Wooyoung quickly explained, ''Hell is the place to be, my love, you don't need heaven,'' he smirked.

Of course he wouldn't say it's heaven, he's a demon, duh.

''Did you just call him baby?'' you dared to ask, eyeing San and Wooyoung. ''Oh we are kind of a thing,'' Wooyoung bluntly said. You gasped, ''And you're okay with just... fucking other people?'' Wooyoung laughed. ''We're not people, my love, we're incubi, we need sex, we are meant to have sex over and over. We don't feel love like you do, but I suppose he's Clyde and I'm Bonnie as you humans say,'' he explained. ''So partners in crime then? You fuck people together?'' you asked.

''Hey, you know, I didn't plan on making this some kind of tea party, can we get on with the sex please?'' Yunho complained. San grinned lightly. ''Newbie,'' he scoffed, ''Fine, go over to her then, show her what you can do, you might get promoted.''

''You guys get promotions?'' you asked curiously. ''Well, not in money, but other things. Better accomodations, better clients, like prettier clients, bigger and stronger wings, extra stamina, bigger cocks, whatever,'' San explained as he took off his pants last, revealing his absolute monstercock, reminding you he's the oldest of all of them.

You swallowed thickly as you scanned all of their bodies, which were definitely all better than anyone's you've ever had sex with. Yunho laid on the bed and pulled you on top of him. He lifted you up with ease, realizing his strength was definitely part of his forte. He slid his cock inside your slick cunt, stretching your hole out completely, causing you to whine loudly. ''H-Holy shit!'' you moaned.

''Don't forget lesson one, Yunho, she's not used to demon cocks so give her a minute, but don't give her too much control. We are here to use her,'' Hongjoong reminded him. Yunho nodded, placing his large hands on your hips. You panted out, feeling your entire body tingle. He gently played with your tits, rubbing your nipples softly.

You moaned as you started to bounce on Yunho's cock, surprising the eight demons. ''Oh she's crazy,'' Mingi muttered. ''She's so perfect... Like a real... proper slut, clenching on my dick,'' Yunho smirked. ''Yes! Oh god, say that again,'' you moaned out, bouncing harder. It didn't happen often that the demon's preys were so into it and even were doing the work voluntarily.

''Yeah? You like being called a slut? Look at you... bouncing on my cock like that...'' Yunho moaned out. ''Y-Yes, oh I love it! L-Love being stretched out by your big, big cock,'' you whined, throwing in an ego-boost for the incubus who started smirking, eyeing his fellow demons. ''Look at him getting cocky,'' Mingi grinned as he watched Yunho hold onto your hips tightly, pounding up into you.

''Yunho! O-oh my God, Yunho, I'm gonna cum!'' you whined out as you felt the familiar warmth in your abdomen. ''C-can I cum? Please, please, please?'' ''Yes, baby, cum, cum all over my fucking cock,'' Yunho grunted as he fucked you harder. You felt a sensation you had never felt before in your life as he bounced you on his length. You came undone so hard you nearly saw stars, letting out the most sinful, pornographic moans you ever made.

The large demon came right after you, spilling his devilish seed inside your wet pussy. You moaned at the feeling, collapsing on his large chest. Before you could regain your breath Yunho had already laid you down, making you whine at the empty feeling in your pussy.

''Looks like our whore wants something more,'' Hongjoong said, ''Do you want my cock, little one?'' The smaller one slowly walked over to you, intimidating you with his demonic eyes. He crawled over you and lifted up your chin. ''Yes, Hongjoong, I want you, want to be filled up,'' you whined.

Hongjoong didn't waste another second and plunged his length inside your wet hole, pounding into it so hard and fast you swore you'd pass out from the pleasure. You moaned out, grabbing the sheets when you felt Mingi's mouth on your breasts, licking and flicking your nipples with his tongue.

''Look at those fucking delicious tits, so pretty,'' Mingi grunted, lightly biting your nipple, causing you to arch your back. You swore you'd lose your mind as Hongjoong was fucking you into oblivion. His cock wasn't as huge as Yunho's but he made up for it in pace and stamina, showing no signs of exhaustion whatsoever.

''Fuck me, yes, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!'' you screamed, totally submitting to the demon taking over your body. ''You're fucking ours now, understood? You belong to us,'' Hongjoong growled, fucking you so hard you saw stars.

You moaned over and over, feeling your body start shaking as you couldn't help but cum all over Hongjoong's cock when Mingi slipped his fingers between the two of you and started rubbing your sensitive clit. ''O-oh yes! Y-yes!'' you moaned out. ''Yeah? Want my cum? Want my fucking cum? You're gonna fucking get it, Y/N, say my fucking name'' Hongjoong moaned out, letting go and climaxing inside your cunt. You clenched hard around him, milking him dry completely, whining out his name

He pulled out of you, a string of your combined cum connecting him to your messy cunt. Seonghwa didn't hesitate to crawl onto the bed, darting his tongue out like a hungry dog, lapping the cum from Hongjoong's cock and your pussy, making the two of you groan.

Seonghwa started licking your pussy, eating you out and swallowing all the cum and arousal like a starved man. ''O-Oh yes, Seonghwa!'' you whined, running your hands through his raven hair, pulling it slightly. The demon moaned at the feeling as he fucked his long tongue into your easy hole. Drool was dripping on his chin, but nothing could stop the hungry demon. ''O-Oh my God that feels so good!''

''Seonghwa likes to feast on horny girls' pussies,'' Hongjoong smirked. ''I-I can tell,'' you breathed out, pulling his hair once more as he sucked your clit. ''I-I'm so close, Hwa!'' you moaned out. Seonghwa smirked at the new nickname. He sucked your clit hard, using the force of his strong tongue. You quickly came undone on his tongue, climaxing for the third time already, but he wouldn't stop.

''T-Too much, O-oh, OH!'' you nearly screamed out, squirming underneath his touch. ''Yeah? Is it too much for you? Little whore... You were begging for it, and now it's too much?'' Yeosang said, the pretty demon. ''Y-Yes, too much, please!'' you whined out, tears rolling down your cheeks. ''Well, guess what, we don't give a fuck that your pleasure is too much for you, cause you're just gonna take what we fucking give to you.''

Your eyes widened and you nodded. You couldn't help how horny that made you, completely being at their mercy. ''Yes, fuck, I-I'm sorry!'' you cried out. Seonghwa slobbered at your pussy like a dog, moaning against it as Yeosang stood behind him, gently cupping his balls and fondling them.

''You're so good Seonghwa, you definitely discarded the Rookie title,'' he praised the other, making you assume Seonghwa hadn't been an incubus for that long either. Seonghwa pulled away from your cunt and laid down as he pulled you on top of him, gesturing Yeosang to get on the bed behind you.

Seonghwa slid his cock inside you with ease, making you moan as he filled you up. ''Come on, Yeosang, get inside her too,'' Seonghwa grunted. Your eyes widened and you yelped as Yeosang's cock slid in your pussy, along with Seonghwa's.

You screamed out when Yeosang started moving his cock in and out at a rapid pace, sharp nails digging in the silky flesh of your thighs. ''AH! O-oh my god s-so big! S-so fucking big,'' you whined out. You had never felt this full before. Jongho stood up and got on the bed, holding your head still as he entered your mouth with his cock once again.

''You didn't make me cum the last time, princess, and fuck, you're gonna take three cocks at ones now. Understood? You'll take my fucking cum down your throat,'' he threathened. You nodded quickly and opened up your mouth further so you'd be able to take more of him in your mouth.

The remaining five men were all surrounding you, standing next to the bed, either pumping their own cocks or touching each other's. ''Look how much of a slut she is, she's even taking three cocks at once... Never have I ever witnessed that before,'' Mingi breathed out. ''I knew it, I told you she'd be a real whore when we entered the room and I was right. Her tits were already in the game before she even knew,'' Wooyoung smirked.

You gagged on Jongho's cock, looking up at him with teary eyes, face and hair a complete mess. Seonghwa played with your nipples as he bucked up into your cunt. Yeosang moaned out as he slid his cock along with Seonghwa's, reaching and touching places no one ever had before.

''I feel you clenching again, princess, are you cumming again? Are you gonna cum on our cocks? Such a good fucking girl, taking us like a real whore, best fucking client we've ever had baby,'' Yeosang growled as he pounded you harder and harder. You moaned loudly around Jongho's cock, drool, spit and tears coating your pleading face.

''Go ahead princess, cum on their dicks as you take my fucking cum in your throat,'' Jongho ordered. It only took two more thrusts before you came undone on Yeosang and Seonghwa. Jongho spurted his white liquid in your mouth, some dripping out of your mouth near the corners.

''Good girl... Such a good girl,'' Jongho cooed, licking his own cum and spit off your cheek and chin before getting off the bed. ''Fuck, I'm gonna cum, gonna fuck you so full of cum,'' Seonghwa moaned out. ''Y-Yes, give me your cum!'' you moaned loudly.

Yeosang pulled out his cock and you were suddenly filled up by an insane amount of cum Seonghwa sho into you, he kept cumming and cumming, making you go crazy and cum once again on his length, squirting all over his body and the sheets, screaming out his name. The pretty demon spat on his fingers and entered your ass, scissoring you open, making you whine loudly. ''You even like that hm? You really are a slut,'' he smirked, as if he didn't have control over your pleasure.

It was what they did. They could do anything they wanted to you, there was barely anything they did that didn't give pleasure. They made their preys feel ten times more sensitive as they had them under their spell.

Yeosang pumped his cock so quickly, cumming all over your ass, making sure you were coated inside and out. ''Fuck,'' he moaned, milking himself over your ass, patting it lightly. ''Good girl.''

You panted loudly as you rolled of Seonghwa's cock. San crawled over to you and spread your legs, looking at your full pussy, painted white with cum. ''What do you think, babygirl, can you take some more?'' he asked. You nearly passed out from the pleasure, but you nodded either way, wanting to have had every member of their little demon gang.

San slid his fingers through your folds and spat on his cock, coating his length. ''Sannie, I wanted to go next,'' Wooyoung sighed. ''Well, you'll have to wait because I am about to split her ass open,'' he smirked. ''Oh yeah, sure, come on she just had Seonghwa, how can she take the other sperm-tank of the group?'' ''Oh well, she'll take it, don't worry.''

The oldest incubus got you on all fours in no time, shoving his cock inside your ass without any warning. You screamed out his name and your arms nearly immediately gave in. ''Gotta have had all your holes filled and coated with cum precious, so I am the one taking care of this one. F-Fucking love your ass,'' he grunted as he pistoned his wet cock in and out of you.

He fucked you hard and deep, pressing you into the matrass right on the spot you had squirted. ''Fucking whore... You love it so much don't you? Having the biggest fucking cock you've ever fucked in your little ass? You'll never fucking forget this, baby, you'll never forget my cock,'' he growled in a raspier voice than earlier.

''Yes, San, San, O-Oh yes fuck me, fill me up, please fill me up, cum inside me!'' you moaned loudly, voice muffled by the soaky matrass. ''Yeah? Want my cum in your ass? Okay, baby, fucking take it then,'' San moaned out before cumming in you, coating your insides with his cum. His cum was just like Seonghwa's; it was so creamy and it was so, so much, you felt completely full and fucked out when he pulled out of you, letting you lay there completely ruined.

Wooyoung turned you over so you laid on your back and hovered his cock above your face and you immediately let out your tongue, giving the tip little kitten licks, making him smirk. ''Can I fuck you, precious?'' he asked. There was something about him that felt familiar and comforting, and for a second you saw it in Wooyoung's eyes as well.

He slowly entered you, much gentler than the rest, making you gasp as you held onto him. He teased you, slowly grinding his cock in and out of you, looking you straight in your eyes.

''W-Wooyoung, Wooyoung!'' you moaned out as he rubbed your clit in little circles, going faster and faster. Wooyoung's dick felt so magical inside you, it wasn't as long but it was insanely thick and girthy, feeling the blood-pumping veins against your cum-coated walls.

''Yes baby, say my fucking name, say my name, I got you, I fucking got you,'' he moaned out, growing needier and needier, fucking you harder and moaning louder. You groaned and whined over and over, moans aligned with his hard thrusts.

''W-Wooyoung, W-Woo, Oh, Wooyoung!'' you cried out as he rubbed your clit quickly. ''Cum for me, squirt all over my fucking cock, okay baby? Just let go,'' he panted. It took one, two, three more thrusts before you screamed his name out loud, body shaking as you climaxed on his cock, squirting all over him, receiving a few 'oh's from his fellow incubi.

He came with a low, long groan, filling your entrance up to the brim until it spilled out. ''Fuck, baby, such a pretty little girl,'' he said as he kissed your head, showing a gentler side you hadn't seen of any of the incubi.

He pulled out of you and the remaining seven demons stepped closer, surrounding you on the bed. For a minute you were worried with was gonna happen, until you noticed each one of them had their large cocks in their hands, jerking off at their own paces, some slower than others.

You spread your legs, opened your mouth and closed your eyes as you saw their furrowed brows and heard their mutters and grunts, noticing they were gonna paint you with cum.

After Hongjoong was the first to cum over your thighs, the rest followed. Mingi and Yunho covered your breasts in cum, Jongho and Yeosang came over your pussy and abdomen, San an Seonghwa unloaded on your chest and Wooyoung was last to whine out your name, cumming over your face.

You panted loudly, breathed heavily, not being able to get up anymore, although you weren't sure if you were gonna pass out or it was their doing.

''Good girl,'' Mingi cooed, patting your hair. ''Sleep tight, we might show up again, princess,'' Jongho said. You heard them shuffling away from you, but you felt one's breath on your lips.

You recognized Wooyoung, who gently pecked you, and kissed your head. ''Are you coming, Woo?'' San asked. ''Yes, I'm coming...'' he said, sighing, kissing you one last time only to leave with the other demons. Then it all got quiet.

You woke up the next morning, your entire body sore and stiff, sticky with cum. You gasped as you recalled the memories with the demons, giggling to yourself as you thought about your little secret. You noticed a little note scribbled on the mirror with black letters that made you smile and think.

'I'll be thinking about you

-Wooyoung'

#kpop #ateez #oneshot #smut #ot8 #ateez ot8 #ateez x reader #seonghwa #hongjoong #wooyoung #san #yeosang #yunho #jongho #mingi

755 notes · View notes

onegayastronaut · 11 months ago

Text

Dinner Date (Kate Bishop x Reader)

Promised another Kate Bishop fic, so here you go!

Words: 1.3k

Kate Bishop was your best friend, but you always felt that there could be something more between you. You don't know why. Maybe it was the way her laugh crinkled the corners of her eyes, or how her focus narrowed endearingly when she was concentrating on something, especially you. Maybe it was the way your hands always seemed to find hers, like magnets drawn to an invisible force. Or maybe it was the late-night talks that stretched until dawn, secrets whispered in the hushed tones of intimacy. Either way, you couldn't seem to be able to get her off your mind.

But at the end of the day, it didn't matter. Kate Bishop was your best friend, and nothing would change that, right? There were moments, stolen glances across a crowded room, lingering touches that sent shivers down your spine. Moments that made your heart stutter, questioning everything you thought you knew. Was this just friendship? Or was there something more, something simmering beneath the surface, waiting to boil over?

But for now, you'd cherish the stolen moments, the unspoken feelings, the quiet understanding that bound you together. Because with Kate Bishop, even the unknown felt like an adventure, an adventure you were ready to take, one hesitant step at a time.

"Are you okay?" Kate Bishop asks as she sits down beside you, handing you a warm drink. "You look really out of it."

"I'm good." You lie. You weren't sure why Kate had such an effect on you, but she did.

"Okay, then." Kate smiles, taking a sip of her own drink. "Do you want to come over to the my place for a bit? My mom has a business dinner, so we'll have the house to ourselves. We can watch movies and talk about girls." She smiles at you, making your mind wander to what it would be like if you weren't just best friends.

You smile back. "Sounds great."

When you arrive at the mansion, Kate takes your coat and hangs it up. "Make yourself at home." She tells you, leading you to the living room. "My room is upstairs if you want to hang out there, too."

You nod and take a seat on the couch. "Your mom won't be home until later?"

"Nope. She'll probably be back around midnight, so it's just us."

You feel your cheeks burn. Kate is your best friend. There's no way you could have those thoughts for her running through your mind.

"You okay?" Kate asks, noticing the blush.

"I'm fine." You say, trying to brush it off, even though you know she could see right through you.

Kate smiles and sits down beside you. "We can go to my room, if you'd like."

You nod and get up from the couch, following her upstairs.

"So…" Kate starts, sitting down on her bed. "Any girls caught your eye recently?"

You think about it. There was one girl in your calculus class who was pretty cute. "Actually, yeah. There's this girl in my math class. She's really sweet and kind." Something flashes in Kate's eyes before she quickly hides it. Could it be jealousy? "Oh? What's her name?"

"Um… her name is… Jessica." You fumble with your answer and hope she doesn't notice.

"Jessica." Kate repeats. "She sounds nice…what do you think of her?"

"She's pretty and funny, and she makes me laugh when we're together."

"What does she look like?"

You take a deep breath. You can't tell her the truth, so you'll have to lie again. "She has blonde hair and blue eyes. She's tall taller than me, so that's good I guess."

Kate smiles, and it looks forced. Or at least that's what you tell yourself anyway. "Wow. That sounds amazing. As long as I make you laugh the most."

The two of you sit in silence for a moment. "Are you excited for the party?" Kate asks.

"I am. I can't wait to see everyone. It's always nice to have some time away from school."

---

At the dinner party, going to Kate's house feels like you just stepped back in time – not into a dusty museum, but into a vibrant, welcoming scene painted with warmth and laughter. Fairy lights twinkle in the garden, the aroma of roasted herbs greets you at the door, and you can hear the boisterous melody of guests in high spirits. Tonight's dinner party, hosted by the effervescent Mrs. Bishop, is more than just a little; it's a test, a gauntlet, a potential launching pad for your burgeoning love for Kate.

You catch Kate across the room, her radiant smile brighter than the string lights. Dressed in a dark suit with the a carefree confidence, she waves you over, her eyes sparkling with unspoken secrets. As you mingle with the guests, a motley crew of businessmen, academics, and even a retired spy (courtesy of Mrs. Bishop's new branch of security), you feel a nervous fluttering in your stomach.

Impressing Kate's mom isn't exactly a walk in the park. Mrs. Bishop is a force of nature – a whirlwind of opinions, witty jabs, and infectious laughter. But beneath the playful banter, you know she cherishes Kate fiercely, her heart a fortress guarded by love and protective instincts.

Throughout the evening, you navigate the social battlefield with finesse. You trade quips with Kate's eccentric uncle, regale the spy with a (mostly truthful) story about your childhood escapades, and even manage to survive a fierce debate about the merits of abstract art with Mrs. Bishop herself. All the while, Kate's eyes dance with a playful challenge, silently cheering you on.

The dinner table, groaning under the weight of culinary masterpieces made by the catering company, becomes the stage for more lighthearted jousting. You find yourself drawn into debates about everything from Shakespeare's sonnets to the best places to stargaze in the city. Your voice falters once or twice, but Kate, your loyal knight in shining armor, leaps in with witty commentary and gentle support.

As the night deepens, the conversation takes a more personal turn. You share stories of your childhood, revealing vulnerable glimpses into your past. Mrs. Bishop listens intently, her gaze unwavering, searching for something only she can understand. And then, you catch her eyes softening, a hint of approval flickering in their depths.

The evening culminates with a bonfire in the garden, its crackling flames casting dancing shadows on the faces around you. You and Kate steal away under the cloak of starlit sky, her hand nestled comfortably in yours. In the intimate quiet, you confess your feelings, whispering words that have been building for months.

Kate's reply is a silent smile, a tender kiss under the watchful gaze of the stars. In that moment, you know you've won her mother's approval, not through grand gestures or forced bravado, but through your genuine affection for Kate, your willingness to be vulnerable, and your own spark of joy that mirrors hers.

The embers of the bonfire die down, but the warmth of the evening lingers. You leave Kate's house hand in hand, her mother's farewell hug filled with a newfound warmth. This dinner party wasn't just about good food and family; it was about laying the foundation for a future, a future where Kate's laughter fills your home, where her dreams intertwine with yours, and where Mrs. Bishop becomes not just a formidable mother-in-law, but a cherished friend, a woman who sees the depth of your love for her daughter and welcomes you with open arms.

So, as you walk away from the twinkling lights of Kate's house, your heart brims with quiet joy. You may have entered through the gates of nervous anticipation, but you leave a seasoned warrior, the scars of laughter and shared stories on your heart, the promise of a love story nurtured in the warm glow of Mrs. Bishop's dinner party forever etched in your memory.

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #hawkeye #hawkeye imagine #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu hawkeye

148 notes · View notes

hum-suffer · 8 months ago

Text

We'll say hello again (nevermind the chasm between us) 15

Bhairav's birthday starts in a way that any normal day does.

He wakes up at dawn, gets ready, takes a trip to the Mahadev temple in the palace and goes to Princess Gauri's room. Yamuna nods at him in greeting with a tired smirk from her station at his Princess' door.

"A punctual guard, Bhairav. I like your consistency. I was just about getting tired." Yamuna smiles at him and pats his shoulder in what he assumes is a compliment. He's never understood the need to touch others without an objective.

(A voice in his head hisses,"Objective like harm."

He's forgotten what a tender touch means. He only touches to harm. He's a weapon.)

Still, he smiles back at Yamuna,"I don't want Harihar to complain to me about his wife being grumpy because she had to stand too long."

Yamuna shakes her head,"In that case, I'd have killed you for being late before he complained to you."

Bhairav raises a non-believing eyebrow at that. Yamuna rolls her eyes,"Fine. The only reason I wouldn't kill you is because I know that the princess would kill me too."

And Bhairav can kill Yamuna without a delay, is what they both don't say. She's been standing guard at the door for long hours, her mind bored and sight dulled with sudden brightness. He's well rested and ready. He's taller than Yamuna and is habituated to fighting in all circumstances. He has three daggers on him, and a sword that he sharpens every night, before going to sleep.

He can kill. He chooses not to.

(Does that mean he's not even a good weapon?)

Yamuna shakes her head and leaves, cheery and unaware of the dark turn that Bhairav's thoughts had taken. He takes his position by the door and relaxes his stiff posture. The princess would be leaving the room in some time, she wakes up early as well. And she will have to be earlier today, still. To show that governor around the palace.

Bhairav tries but he can't keep his distaste of the man away from his job, his princess. Something in the way the man looks at his princess makes him want to unsheathe his sword. He knows that he thinks out of line for a mere slave, yet, his princess has not only let him be impertinent but also encourages his absymal behaviour.

(He sometimes forgets the chasm that lies between them. He sometimes genuinely thinks that she is his friend. She is his devotion and duty. He is reminded of that everyday as walks with her spine straight and head high.)

Bhairav hears footsteps before he sees him.

Vijay. He's up and about, cheery and ready as he nears the princess' chambers with a spring in his step. Bhairav is nineteen. The same age that Vijay was when he married. And now, Vijay flutters around his princess, a young woman of eighteen, whilst he himself is thirty.

Bhairav wraps his distaste in forceful ignorance and puts it away in a box in his mind. He knows his face is neutral as the man nears and he struggles to keep it so when he presumptuously turns towards the princess' doors and bloody fucking knocks.

His sword is a serpent's tongue on his thigh as he steps between the door and the man and glares at Vijay. From the other side of the door, his Princess answers sharply,"Who dares?"

Vijay flinches at her tone and Bhairav can imagine the sharp way her kohl lined eyes would glance across the room in righteous anger as she notes that it is not Bhairav who has knocked. Bhairav has never received that particular tone, he thinks smugly. His princess somehow always knows when Bhairav is knocking.

(Bahubali doesn't knock. Bhallaldeva knocks once and enters before she can allow him. Bhairav knows.)

(Bhairav knows not that he knocks in a pattern. A two sharp knocks that make four soft thuds as his knuckles as well as his wrist hits the door when he knocks. He has copied his sister's way of knocking since he was but a child. He is unaware that no one else knocks in the same pattern. The perpetual bruise on the side of his wrist is but a footnote in his day.)

"Bhairav?" She calls from the chambers, tone commanding and of the woman who should have been Queen, if Mahishmati was women oriented.

His glare doesn't leave Vijay as he turns sideways and knocks. Instantly, his princess calls him in,"Enter, Bhairav."

He closes the door behind himself because he knows his princess will hate it if some stranger would dare to see her chambers— the rooms which could be called the heart of the palace, in Bhairav's humble opinion.

She's dressed in a light turquoise saree and her hair is open still, slightly damp from her bath, he assumes. She is standing near the hinges of the door, one hand holding the dagger that used to be Bhairav's and the other holding a scroll. She is tense but she relaxes halfway through when he closes the door behind himself.

In this moment, she is the perfect definition of Gauraangi Devi, the Princess of Mahishmati. Fierce, beautiful and clever.

Bhairav bows his head in greeting. "The Western governor is outside, my princess."

"Was he the one who knocked?" Bhairav can hear the dangerous undertone at his audacity and he knows that they're standing right at the door and if Vijay hasn't moved away, he can at least hear the whispers of her words.

Bhairav nods. "I apologise, my princess. He broke protocol and I was not alert enough for that."

He was. He was extremely alert enough. He could have drugged the man and dragged him into the dungeons if he so wished. But there is a part of him, a part that could very well get him killed one day, that wanted his princess to be angrier at the man. Bhairav knows he has added fuel to the fire of her irritation and made it anger.

He thinks it will not take even the whole day for anger to become wrath.

And he wants to rush the process along. He doesn't trust the way Vijay looks at her. She is not a price, but a treasure. Vijay looks at her like a lottery and Bhairav gets the distinct impression that he would treat her no better.

His princess finally relaxes completely and nods with a deep breath. "Tell him to wait," she orders firmly, slipping the dagger into her waistline. Visible and full of warning. She turns on her heel and walks towards the mirror in her room, running a hand through her hair to help dry it as she goes. Bhairav nods and bows, takes a step back before turning his back to her.

(Like he never instantly turns his back towards Durga in her temple.)

"Stop," she calls in a heavy voice. He can feel her frustration as he turns. She purses her lips and sighs, recomposing herself in front of his eyes. When she speaks next, she is the epitome of etiquette. "Tell his Excellency that I will see him in some moments and I regret the tardiness on my part."

Bhairav dislikes that she has to sweeten her words but he nods and takes his leave, eyes never leaving her as he leaves.

Vijay is still at the spot that Bhairav left him at and Bhairav resumes his glare as he relays his Princess' message to the unwanted man. Vijay seems positively smug when Bhairav mentions his Princess' apologies and waves his hand dismissively. "I'm sure she won't do it again," he murmurs to himself as he turns away from Bhairav.

For a delicious moment, Bhairav wants to unwrap his rage and let it kill the presumptuous man like a noose. But he maintains the control that he has always maintained, stoic and proud of his self control. He chooses instead to focus on the governor. Bhairav isn't impressed.

The man may be well built, but he clearly lacks patience as he shifts from one foot to another impatiently. There are no visible weapons on him but the multiple necklaces he wears are extremely easy to use to choke him. Such neglect towards oneself, and Vijay wants to court the princess of Mahishmati. If he can't take care of himself, how will he take care of his princess?

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

His princess barely takes five more minutes before she is opening the door, hair braided in a simple side braid that is devoid of any accessories or flowers— because she did not have the time for them.

She nods at Bhairav and passes a more stoic nod to Vijay. "I again apologize for the delay, Mahoday."

"Please, call me Vijay. You are the princess, extremely above my station." He says, a bashful smile on his lips. "And do not fret, your highness. I know that women always take long to get ready."

Bhairav wants to bare his teeth and snarl at the man like an attack dog that many already call him. The man's negative bias over women is already clear and he doesn't deserve to be in the company of his princess. Bhairav keeps an iron grip on his self control and remains stoic.

His princess raises her eyebrows at Vijay almost casually. "Oh?" She says, and Bhairav has known her enough to know much of a mockery that is. Vijay doesn't. "You are experienced with many women, mahoday?"

Vijay shrugs and lowers his head in what seems to be shyness or shame. "I know a few. Your highness, I was wondering where exactly shall we start our tour with?"

"Certainly not the royal wing, mahodaya," she says with an incredulous tone that might seem friendly, when Bhairav knows she is still seething over his audacity to walk into the wing. He makes a mental note to find Katappa and use his help to find who let this man in the royal wing and later relocate that soldier. Preferably to the stables.

Bhairav trails four steps behind them, closer than normal, as his princess leads the man out of the royal wing and makes the first step to the Mahadev temple.

He stays quiet as she speaks of the architecture and the history of the palace, notes the way she runs her fingers in the carvings and knows every anecdote of the palace by heart. Vijay keeps speaking in between her lessons. It is extremely unbecoming and he knows she hates Vijay's behaviour. Bhairav is counting minutes to his Princess' ire increasing.

He isn't disappointed. Mere moments after his princess tells them of a story of a handloom and how the business is now a part of the royal palace, Vijay commits the grave mistake.

"A single saree takes almost six months to be—" his princess is speaking, spouting off facts that she's learnt since she was a child. She sounds professional rather than the animated tone she uses when she's talking to her family or Yamuna or Katappa or Bhairav himself.

Vijay interrupts her. "Is your follower always going to be following us?"

Bhairav can find five things wrong with that singular question and he's a base born soldier. His princess, who excels in etiquette, would find this grievous. She casually looks at Vijay, craning her neck gracefully, hiding her ire that Bhairav can see forming in the tightness of her shoulders.

"Yes, Mahoday. He is my sworn sword. Where I go, he goes." She's making him sound nothing more than a soldier and when she sneaks a glance at him while Vijay shakes his head, Bhairav pouts mockingly at her. It gets her to smile and her shoulders ease down, so he considers it a success.

A momentary success, however.

Vijay turns back to the princess and smiles condescendingly. "Then I must habituate myself with seeing Bhairav, shall I?"

"His name is Bhairavrath." His princess says, her tone chilling. Vijay looks back at Bhairav for a beat before he turns towards the princess, who continues to speak about the handlooms, as if she had not been interrupted at all.

Bhairav applauds her patience.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

Bhairav takes his midday meal with Katappa, who keeps on yapping about the stress he has because of security management on Mahashivratri. Bhairav, who is already eager to get back to his princess, sneaks off a glance at the formal dining area that they can see from the practice yards.

His princess sits stiffly but is flanked by her two brothers. The governor sits across from her, accompanied by her uncle and the Queen Mother takes the seat at the head of the table. Bhairav turns his attention back to Katappa the moment he spies Bahubali beginning to turn his head.

"I don't like the governor's household soldiers either," Katappa complains, sighing heavily,"They seem like the trouble making sort, honestly."

Bhairav remembers another celebration where his princess was attacked. He remembers dark bruises and reactionary tears. "Keep them as far away from the temple as possible." He says sharply.

Katappa nods, understanding him already. The soldier beside him, Bhallaldeva's sworn shield, Veeraraj, raises his eyebrows. "And just what should we tell them for the placement? It's a complete coincidence and not personal resentment?"

"We'll tell them the half truth," Bhairav says, it's obvious and he's irked that neither of those two highly appreciated soldiers know how to lie properly. "These people haven't experienced the Mahashivratri of the capital and don't know how to deal with the mass. It's better their interaction is minimal."

Katappa gives him a look. "Should I be concerned that you're lying so well, Bhairavrath?"

Before Bhairav can say anything, Veeraraj snorts. "He's been serving the princess for years now, Katappa. He ought to have learnt some semblance of diplomacy from her too."

A retort sits hot on his tongue. (Did you learn belittling people from your master, then?) But he keeps it down and closed. "Learning from esteemed people is a privilege." He says, daring the man to say a word about his princess.

Veeraraj takes the hint, as pigheaded as he can be, he knows the reputation Bhairav has cultivated over the years in protecting his Princess, even from words.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

The anger his princess holds calms down over the day.

Vijay doesn't leave her side and that irks Bhairav like a fibre of orange stuck between the gap in his back teeth. He's helpless against the situation but he desperately wishes, for once, that he held more power— if only so he could tear away Vijay from his princess' side and walk beside her.

She speaks confidently as she orders and coordinates with the palace staff. Which flowers to be ordered and their quantity, which temples to decorate and how, which libraries to donate to, which orphanages to develop. She thinks of all that and speaks, head high and shoulders back.

It's evening by the time that the princess walks into the room she uses as her study and sits down, Vijay sits across from her. Bhairav stands behind her, relaxing his stance. His princess begins to find some scrolls but it takes her only three heart beats to freeze and look over at Bhairav in clear confusion.

"Sit down, Bhairav," she says, patting a hand beside her casually, frustration bleeding into her tone as she fights to keep the scrolls on the desk from falling down. Vijay scowls and Bhairav hesitates for a second too long. "Do sit down before I have to use force, Bhairav. And help me arrange these, please."

Bhairav sits down beside her without another word and she starts to organise the rolls into piles. The scrap ones go nearer to Vijay, the completed ones remain in front of her and the incomplete ones land in Bhairav's lap. He knows why they're off the desk, of course. They're various plans of security.

His princess keeps up a steady conversation with Vijay about the West province as she arranges the scrolls, not once speaking about any security details of the Mahashivratri pooja. Vijay is dimwitted enough to seem prideful at the conversation, not knowing that it is a distraction. His princess doesn't need to ask Vijay about the farming state of the West. She already knows. Bhairav himself fetched her the reports only last week.

When Vijay finally leaves the room, dismissed by his princess under the ruse of her needing to find a particular and private tome, her shoulders relax marginally and she leans back on the wall. Bhairav relaxes as well, remaining silent as he sees her ears twitch.

In the years, he's learnt that she has a better sense of hearing than normal people. The sense of smell is not as good, but her hearing is outstanding. He doesn't speak until she looks at him, knowing she's hearing the footsteps of Vijay fade away.

His princess looks at him, suddenly tired, and blinks rapidly before closing her eyes for a long moment. Her lashes touch her skin, and under the setting sun's light that streams through the window, Bhairav can see the wave shaped birthmark on the outer corner of her left eye. She looks like a painting come alive. Bhairav doesn't want to break the silence, lest he disturb her much deserved peace.

"A trying day, is it not?" She finally says, sounding annoyed beyond her years. Bhairav suppresses a smile and nods. She continues,"Well, at least we had some work done. Remind me to talk with Katappa tomorrow, for security, please."

Bhairav notes the thought in the background of his mind and nods. "You have not had the time for your evening fruits, my princess. May I ask for them to be brought here?"

She shakes her head and cracks her knuckles as she sits up, shifting and grabbing something by her foot, on the other end of the table. Bhairav furrows his eyebrows in confusion. It's not like her to be pensive. The day must have really exhausted her.

His princess pulls out an adequately sized wooden box onto her lap and turns towards him. Her eyes sparkle in giddiness as she hands the box to him with the brightest smile he's seen on her face as she wishes,"A very happy birthday to you, Bhairav."

He's shocked. He's never told her or anyone else about his birthday before. He doesn't feel the need to create a fuss over it. "My princess—I— I cannot—"

He fumbles as he tries to speak but she raises her eyebrows in question, that includes a mild threat, and he shuts up. His eyes dart downward out of habit and he again sees the intricately carved wooden box, one that has his name carved in it.

"One should not deny gifts, my dear friend." She says, a tender smile on her face.

(It shocks him to this day, whenever she refers to him as her friend. She's the goddamn princess. And he's just— He's just Bhairav. He's a soldier. He's so far below her station, it's almost funny to call them friends.

A corner of his mind that he always tries to keep silent piques up that he accepted Katappa's offer to apprentice under him so he could be raised in status, even as a soldier. So he could be worthy of her easy friendship.)

The box in his hands is heavy and she gestures impatiently with her eyes for him to open it. He knows he can't deny her anything. With a defeated smile on his face, he opens the box.

Nestled between some jasmine flowers is a tunic of his. It had been lost ages ago, when he had pulled it off in the armoury after a new soldier had swiped his sword particularly harshly and tore the tunic at the shoulder and grazed Bhairav's shoulder enough to draw blood as well. He doesn't have a scar, it wasn't deep enough for one, but he remembers that particular soldier being assigned to someone else from the very next day.

This tunic, beige with rust orange stains at the hem, had been one he wore way too much. One of his most comfortable ones. Finding it again brings a grin to his face.

"Thank you so much for finding this, my princess," he says, grazing his fingers over the neckline. It's then that he notices his name embroidered to the nape of the tunic. He thumbs the red thread almost reverently.

He doesn't know why it affects him so, the simple act of an embroidered name. Perhaps it is because he feels as if none of his belongings are his truly. Perhaps it is because there is nothing truly in his name. But his name in red makes his heart grow twice.

He looks up gratefully at his princess again, only to see her smilingly indulgently. "Oh, you silly man," she chuckles and shakes her head,"Look what's underneath that."

He carefully brings the tunic out of the box and lays it on his unoccupied thigh, careful not to crease it. It looks cleaner than it has ever in Bhairav's possession. He notices the space where it had ripped is as good as new. She fixed it.

(Just like she keeps fixing him.)

Under the bed of Jasmine flowers, shimmers something distinctly blue. He looks at her hesitantly before scooping out the flowers and laying them on the lid of the box.

His breath catches.

It's another tunic. A distinct shade of blue that looks like a sky painted of sapphires. The neckline is softly embroidered with orange and golden thread, looking like vines of a buried treasure curling in the sea of blue. His name is again embroidered at the nape.

Reverently, he brushes his thumb over the material and it instantly feels cool and soft— water made into fabric. It's— Its muslin. It's not even silk. Muslin.

She got him a Muslin tunic.

He looks up at her, startled at so much wealth being spent on him. She smiles and for a moment, it's nervous. "Well," she says,"I know your favourite colour is blue and I intend to never wear a saree gifted by any of my presumptuous suitors. And, forgive me if the missing of your other tunic caused you any grief." Her smile turns shy and she winces slightly,"I had to get your measurements."

She made it.

A gasp buries itself in Bhairav's throat and lungs and he loses all the self control he's been so proud of. He's astonished at her generosity and kindness. The time it must have taken her to sew a whole new tunic would be momental. And Bhairav is always with her in the day, so she must have done this at night. Lost precious sleep and time over making him a birthday gift.

Him, of all people.

His breath hitches and the realisation seems to run into his blood. She cares. And oh, how beautifully. She cares.

Someone cares that he's alive and he's lived one more year.

Mouth open in shock, he stares at the tunic in his hand for five heart beats more. (He can't be too sure of the time, though. His heart is beating too fast.) He looks up, gulps down the shock and awe and lowers his gaze again. "Th—" he notices how hoarse his voice sounds and clears his throat. "Thank you so much, my princess. You did not have to do so much. I'm a servant, I don't—I am not worth the effort."

"Not unworthy. Not to me. You are worth every effort, Bhairav."

____________________________________________________

Worked on this for like two weeks aur abhi abhi almost heart attack aa Gaya Because Tumblr showed my drafts empty 💀💀💀💀 tagging: @alhad-maharani @vijayasena @nerdreader @serenaaaas-world @voidsteffy @allizzprobablynotwell

#desiblr #suffer ye suhana nahi #desi tumblr #bahubali #baahubali #bhaisahab dar gayi thi main ki ye Tumblr ne delete tlh nhi kar diya #so before Tumblr becomes a bit #everyone say happy birthday to our resident guard dog

72 notes · View notes

chestcongestion · 6 months ago

Text

Losing Your Grippe- Ch.1: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Chapter one of the Ha/zbin Flu Longfic here we go! I'm having so much fun already with this one and I'm excited to see where we go from here. I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 4,432

Content Warnings: Contagion, Really Really sad Cha/rlie (not triggering, but I know it broke my heart to write sometimes, it's hard seeing her sad)

“Eh’ptschew!”

Charlie pinched her nose using her non-dominant hand and rubbed at the sensitive skin with her fingers, shuddering under the harsh air conditioning of the elite boutique where she was being fitted for a dress by two succubi- a pair of twins named Isla and Irma.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, was I holding the tape measure too tight?” Isla asked, sheepishly backing away and examining Charlie’s skin.

“No, no it’s okay!” Charlie replied with a chuckle, “My nose was just itchy… snff! Can I have a tissue?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Irma- who had a measuring tape around Charlie’s thigh- replied, snapping her fingers and whistling for a tiny female imp who was standing against the wall, “Clover! Go get the box of tissues from my office!”

Clover nodded, scurrying into the back room and coming out with a freshly-opened box of lotion-soft facial tissues, hopping onto a step stool and presenting Charlie with the box, her head held down to avoid meeting the princess’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Charlie said, plucking a tissue out of the box and wiping the underside of her nostrils before attempting to blow her nose. The attempt was in vain, and after a short burst of moisture Charlie’s sinuses yielded nothing.

“E-Eih’KtSchhew! ‘KzZsHEW!” Charlie sneezed, her nose trickling slightly as she plucked three more tissues from the box in Clover’s hands, trying and failing once again to blow her nose.

“Please try and hold still, Your Highness, I’m almost done with your measurements,” Isla pleaded, measuring Charlie’s hips with the tape measure before measuring her inseam.

“sNFF! Sorry,” Charlie giggled, sheepishly, dabbing at her nostrils while trying to keep still, “Thank you for accepting my order on such short notice, I promise I’ll pay enough to make it more than worth your while.”

“Oh of course, Your Highness, it means the world to us that Hell’s heir apparent chose our little boutique to make her first ever overlord summit dress!” Isla said cheerfully.

“I wanted to be sure I got something that looked nice, this is my first time getting invited to the overlord summit, usually my dad just sends the sovereign and lesser overlords one of his advisors in his place,” Charlie explained, “This is going to be such a great advertising opportunity for the hotel!”

“Well, we’ll make sure that you look absolutely stunning on the big day,”

“Thank you so much!” Charlie said, her voice straining slightly, words grating against a suddenly-scratchy throat in a way that made her cough.

Stepping down from the measuring platform and getting dressed, Charlie scrolled through her phone while the boutique staff charged her bank card for the cost of the dress.

“Hey… I just remembered, the seamstress who I made the appointment with, the taller succubus with the star-shaped tail… is she on vacation? I wanted to speak with her about where I could buy a pair of shoes to match my dress… E-Eiih’kShhuu! E-Ehh…Eihh’ksSs-CHEW!” Charlie asked, still holding the tissues underneath her slightly-runny nose before moving a piece of her hair out of her face.

“Oh, Zurie? She’s been out for a couple of days, she has the flu,” Irma said, nervously fiddling with the buttons on her shirt.

Charlie wilted a bit, frowning, “Aww, that’s terrible, I hope she feels better.”

“We hope so too, the flu really seems to be going around,” Isla replied solemnly, “Hope you have a lovely day, Your Highness, your dress should be ready by tomorrow morning!”

“Thank you, I’ll be back to pick it up,” Charlie said, finger-combing her hair and leaving the boutique, muffling an irritated cough with her fist as she climbed into the backseat of her car.

“Where to now, Your Highness?” the driver asked.

“Uhm-” Charlie paused, still overcome by her cough, letting a few more loose before the scratchy sensation in her throat settled down, “- Sorry. I need to go to the shoe store across the street from the Richest Cup, please!”

“Understood, we should be there in fifteen minutes,” the driver replied, turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from the curb.

Later that afternoon, back at the hotel, Husk was taking inventory of the liquor behind the bar counter, writing down the bottles and fullness quantities on a clipboard as he went through the roster. While he was eyeballing the amount of liquor in a bottle of blue curacao, the front doors to the hotel swung open.

Razzle rushed through the lobby holding an array of shopping bags, scurrying to carry them upstairs so they could be put away in Charlie and Vaggie’s bedroom. Trailing slowly behind him, visibly overwhelmed, was Charlie, who quickly flopped into a stool at the bar, planting her face against the counter.

“Rough day?” Husk asked, writing down the amount in the bottle of blue curacao on his inventory sheet.

“Mmphhh,” Charlie muttered, her shoulders vibrating slightly as she shivered, turning her head so that her voice wasn’t muffled by the countertop, “I have so much to do to get ready for this event.”

“You’re workin’ yourself up over the overlord summit?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow, “Pfft, it ain’t even worth the trouble. Then again, ‘suppose I’ve never had to go to a formal event as a lady, let alone one who gives a shit about lookin’ nice.”

“I’m so nervous, I’m getting my dress made and I looked everywhere for a pair of shoes to match my dress, and I found three pairs but I don’t know which one I’m going to go with because they’re all different heights and they have different decorations and they’re all going to be so uncomfortable on my feet and-” Charlie’s rambling was interrupted by an aggressive hacking cough that she had to quickly cover with her forearm.

Husk winced, scooping up some ice into a pint glass and pouring Charlie a glass of water, sliding it over to her on a coaster.

“Thanks,” Charlie choked out, guzzling down half of the glass before turning away to cough again, “My throat’s been so scratchy, it’s killing me.”

Husk frowned, going back to examining the bottles of liquor, “Maybe your body’s shuttin’ down because of how much you’re stressin’ over the summit,” he remarked casually, writing out the amount of cointreau behind the bar counter onto his sheet.

Charlie polished off the rest of her glass of water, shuddering a bit as she tried to compose herself, “It’s just so hard… I want this to be perfect, I have to examine all of my jewelry and figure out which pieces would go with my dress and whether or not they’d also match my shoes, and I still want them to complement what Vaggie’s gonna wear and I still have to figure out which hairstyle I’m gonna choose and whether that’s gonna go good with my outfit and my shoes and.. And…-” Charlie’s stressed rambling began to falter as tears welled in her eyes.

Husk stopped working on taking inventory and focused instead on Charlie as she tugged at her blonde locks, her face suddenly coated in a thin sheen of sweat and bags forming under her eyes.

“I still have to- khff!- have to decide whether or not I’m- Khff! Khff khff!- carrying a purse or not and-” Charlie paused, taking a wheezy inhale and turning away from Husk to release another hacking cough, and another, and another, barely having time to stop and take shallow inhales as her cheeks flushed a pinkish-red and sweat trickled down her face, dripping from her chin and nose to stain the neckline of her suit jacket.

Husk walked around to the other side of the bar, resting a hand on Charlie’s back and feeling her lungs spasming in her chest with each unproductive and throat-scraping cough, “That cough sounds rough… you alright?” Husk asked, gently patting Charlie on the back in the hopes that it would help.

Charlie’s coughing fit stopped for a moment and she gasped, finally able to fully catch her breath, wiping at her watery eyes and looking at Husk with a pitiful, exhausted expression on her face, “H-husk?” she whimpered, shivering and leaning into his touch, “I don’t feel well.”

“I figured,” Husk replied, feeling Charlie’s cheeks with the back of his hand before pressing his heart-shaped palm against her forehead, “Damn… you’re burnin’ up. Here, I’ll help you get to bed.”

Husk gently grabbed hold of Charlie’s wrists and pulled her onto her feet, not noticing Charlie’s wobbly legs and weak, staggering stance until she collapsed to her knees once he let go of her. “Charlie!” he exclaimed, panicked as he leaned down to the floor and gathered Charlie in his arms, “I’m sorry, I thought you could stand, did you hurt anything?”

Charlie shook her head weakly, coughing into her fist before wrapping her arms around Husk’s neck, “My hips hurt… and my thighs hurt, but they were hurting before I fell down,” she mumbled, “I don’t wanna go to bed, I just need to lie down… I just… just… E-Eihh’PtSsHEW!”

Husk cradled Charlie in his arms, rubbing her back as she coughed, before setting her down on the softest sofa in the parlor and watching as she struggled to settle into a reclined position, wincing with every movement as though she was in pain.

“I’m cold,” Charlie said, her voice wavering as she wiped away tears, biting her lip when her febrile shivering only aggravated the aches and pains in her body.

Husk hurried into the hallway, grabbing a plush blanket from the linen closet and returning to the living room to spread the blanket out over Charlie’s shivering form, “That any better?” he asked, his stomach twisting in knots at Charlie’s discomfort.

Charlie took in a sharp breath, letting out another aggressive cough, “A little, I’m still f-freezing,” she mumbled, her teeth chattering as she attempted to relax under the blanket, her eyelids drooping, “My head hurts.”

Husk panicked, fiddling with one of his ears as he wandered back over to the bar and soaked one of his clean dish towels in cool water, wringing it out and returning to the sofa to place it over Charlie’s eyes. For a moment, out of concern and a deep desire to feel somewhat helpful, Husk gently brushed the back of his hand against Charlie’s face, a bit of relief blooming inside of him when she sighed out of comfort.

“Better?”

“M-mhmm… E-eihh’kSShuu! Eih’KsSshew!”

“Alright, you try and get some rest, I’ll make sure you’re alright,” Husk said, gently patting Charlie’s back as she began to cough again, her eyes watering and her cheeks growing flushed again as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Vaggie…” Charlie whimpered, blinking away her tears and clutching her abdomen, “KHFFF- Khff!”

Husk’s heart swelled in his chest, and he crawled onto the sofa, gently moving Charlie until her rocket-hot and shivering body was resting against him as she sat in his lap, coughing violently over his shoulder.

“Vaggie’s still out shoppin’, she’ll be home soon, I promise,” Husk whispered, patting Charlie’s back, “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“My… chest hurts,” Charlie said, her voice growing hoarse from her constant coughing as her nose began to trickle, the skin on her nose bridge flushing pink, “I can’t… can’t be sick, have to go to the- KHHHFF!- overlord summit… already bought my dress.”

Husk sighed, gently cradling Charlie’s back as she phased in and out of consciousness, occasionally shooting awake to cough violently for a few minutes before dozing off again, still clinging to Husk like a feverish koala.

Three hours later, Vaggie returned from her shopping trip with Alastor, and Angel returned from his shift at the porn studio at the same time. The three were flanked by Niffty, who had accompanied Vaggie and Alastor on their excursion but was hopped up on sugar from chugging slushies out of boredom while waiting for Alastor to pick out a new bowtie.

“Fuckin’ finally, you’re back,” Husk groaned, still sitting on the sofa and bouncing a barely-conscious Charlie on his knee as she coughed weakly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, took longer than I thought, I wanted to pick a dress that would match Charlie’s but I ended up just getting a couple in each color, I tried to text her to ask what dress she’d picked but she never… texted me back,” Vaggie said, her voice trailing off as she noticed her shivering girlfriend still clinging desperately to Husk, her suit jacket draped over the back of the sofa and her dress shirt soaked so heavily with sweat that her bra was visible through the sheer wet fabric, “What happened?”

“She came back from shoppin’ and faded fast, she hasn’t stopped coughing since I got her on the sofa,” Husk explained, patting Charlie’s back as another violent series of hacking coughs ripped through her chest and scraped her raw throat. Briefly, Husk pressed the back of his hand against Charlie’s neck, frowning at the searing heat of her skin.

“How long have you been sitting here with her?” Vaggie asked, raising an eyebrow as Alastor watched in anxious silence from several paces away.

“Few hours,” Husk replied, “She wouldn’t let go of me and she can’t stand up without fallin’ down.”

Vaggie chewed on her bottom lip, her stomach twisting a bit with worry as she reached out to feel Charlie’s forehead, her cool fingers sending such a wave of relief across Charlie’s hot and sensitive skin that tears of joy trickled from her eyes, “Holy shit…” she said in a hushed voice.

“Yeah,” Husk said before bracing himself to stand while still keeping a firm grip on Charlie, rising to his feet while Charlie still weakly clung to him in spite of their noticeable height difference, “This ain’t just a cold… somethin’s wrong, I think we should take her to the hospital.”

Charlie whimpered, pushing away from Husk, forcing him to hold tighter onto her to keep her from crashing and slamming her head against the hard floor, “Noo… no hospital… ‘m not sick- K H FFf- khff-khfff!- mkay, I’m a little sick… but I-I’m okay… KHHFFF-KHFF-KHFF! KOFF-Khhff-khff!- I’m fine,” she pleaded, sweat still running down her flushed cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath, her voice hoarse and her nose slightly runny.

“Sweetheart, you look awful, I just want to be able to take care of you and make you feel comfortable, and we might not be able to do that without a doctor’s help,” Vaggie said, brushing her manicured fingers against Charlie’s face and smiling when Charlie managed a small, weak smile in return, “Don’t you want to feel better?”

“Mmhm,” Charlie nodded.

“Okay, it won’t take too long, we’ll be back before you know it, mkay?” Vaggie explained, smiling when Charlie gave her another weak nod, “Alright, c’mon Husk, let’s go to the urgent care center.”

“Right behind you,” Husk said, following Vaggie back out to the car with Charlie still in his arms, leaving Angel, Alastor, and Niffty to their own devices.

“Awww, poor Charlie,” Angel crooned, combing out his fluffy pompadour with his fingers, “I oughtta make myself useful while they’re gone, c’mon Niff, let’s go make sure she’s got somethin’ to eat when she gets back.”

“Okay!” Niffty cheered, speeding past Angel to the hotel’s kitchen, still riding on a bit of a sugar high.

“You comin’ Alastor?” Angel asked, resting a hand on his hip as he scrolled through his phone with another hand for a notes app folder filled with recipes he saved.

Alastor shook his head, sticking out his tongue and shuddering as he pictured the parlor and lobby to be crawling with microbes, practically feeling them on his skin, on his clothes, in his hair, “No, I’m a bit preoccupied… I’m going to go have a bath and then have a few refreshing shots of disinfectant,” he grumbled, snapping his fingers and vanishing into his own shadow.

Angel shrugged, “What a wimp,” he said with a teasing smile until he heard pans clattering to the ground in the kitchen, “Niffty, don’t break anythin’, I’m comin’!”

An hour later, Angel and Niffty were looking at silly videos on Angel’s phone after making a large pot of tomato soup that was simmering quietly on the stove, when they heard the sound of Charlie’s coughing as she, Vaggie, and Husk entered the lobby.

“Welcome back, that was quick,” Angel said, leaning against a wall as Niffty ran in a tight circuit around his feet, still a bit hyperactive.

“Urgent care was packed, but we got seen pretty quickly once they realized who we brought with us,” Vaggie explained, holding Charlie upright even as her legs shook independent from her febrile shivering.

“Nice, so what’d they say was wrong wit’ Goldilocks?” Angel asked, reaching out to help Charlie stand as she struggled to stay on her feet.

“They did a swab test and found out she has the flu,” Vaggie said, “According to the doctor we spoke to it’s been going around like crazy.”

“e-EIih’KTtSsSHEW!” Charlie sneezed, rubbing her nose with the heel of her palm, “I’m tired…”

“I know, I know, let’s get you a cool shower so you can get nice and comfortable in bed, Hmm?” Vaggie offered.

“Okay,” Charlie sighed, leaning against Vaggie and grimacing in pain before turning to cough into her fist, “I’m sorry… it’s so hot… everything hurts.”

“I know, Babe, I’m so sorry you’re sick,” Vaggie said, gently patting Charlie’s back.

“I’ll carry ‘er upstairs for ya,” Angel said, scooping Charlie into his arms and glancing at her with concern when he felt the overwhelming amount of heat radiating off of her feverish body. Pushing that sensation aside, Angel held onto Charlie and slowly climbed up the steps toward Charlie and Vaggie’s shared bedroom, Charlie occasionally taking a shaky inhale and coughing into Angel’s shoulder while clinging to him with her arms and legs.

“You took good care of her while everybody was gone,” Niffty said almost teasingly, standing on Husk’s shoulder, “That was nice.”

“What? I can’t be nice?” Husk scoffed, tossing Niffty to the floor as though she were a clingy kitten, watching as she climbed him again effortlessly and accepted defeat, letting her use him as a perch.

“You can… it’s just rare that you’re this nice to anyone… even to Angel,” Niffty observed, “But that’s good, you’re a good kitty.”

Husk rolled his eyes, “I’ll wear it like a badge of honor, thank you Niffty,” he said, poking her before setting her back down on the floor, “I gotta finish inventory on the bar and I’m sure there’s cobwebs somewhere inside the roof or the storage attic that you can clean up until the sugar wears off.”

“O o oo! You’re right, that sounds like fun! Bye bye Husk!” Niffty giggled, sprinting up the stairs and vanishing on her way to crawl into the hotel’s makeshift-attic storage space, leaving Husk at the bar with his bottles.

Relishing in the quiet, Husk scanned his inventory sheet and decided to pick up where he left off, “Okay… I finished cointreau, onto the next one,” he muttered to himself.

Upstairs, in Charlie and Vaggie’s bedroom, Charlie had gotten out of her cool bath and was wearing a pair of lightweight cotton pajamas. Exhausted, Charlie climbed into bed and curled up under the covers, still deeply frustrated that she’d managed to fall ill so close to such an important event.

“You comfortable?” Vaggie asked, pulling a thermometer out of the drawer in her nightstand and turning it on.

“I guess,” Charlie sighed, opening her mouth and letting Vaggie slide the thermometer under her tongue, suppressing the urge to cough until the thermometer beeped, “What’s it say? K HFF- koff-koff!”

Vaggie squinted briefly at the viewing window on the thermometer, “104,” she said, cupping Charlie’s face with one of her hands.

Charlie sniffled, a pitiful frown on her face as tears ran from her eyes and trickled down her fever-rouged cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I’m so mad at myself for getting sick- snFF!- I feel hot and everything hurts and I’m so tired and I’m going to miss the summit and it was so important that I got to go this time and the overlords are gonna be mad at me and they aren’t going to invite me again and I paid so much for that stupid dress and now I’m not gonna get to wear it and-” Charlie rambled fretfully as tears continued to fall, hiccuping sobs interrupting her as she struggled to keep it together, “This is the worst and there’s nothing I can do about it and nothing can make it better!”

Vaggie leaned forward, embracing Charlie in a tight hug as Charlie sobbed violently, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sure the overlords will understand and you’ll be able to go to the next summit… and we can go on a date when you’re better so you can wear your dress!” she said, rubbing Charlie’s hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“KHFF-Koff! I don’t wanna wear my dress- SnFF!- I-I wanted to wear a pantsuit but the ladies at the boutique said a dress would look better,” Charlie sobbed.

“Okay… well, I’ll call the boutique and tell them to make a pantsuit instead!” Vaggie said cheerfully, her heart aching desperately at seeing Charlie in such turmoil, “Does that help?”

Charlie sniffled, wiping her eyes with a tissue, “I-snFF! Snff!- I guess… I’m sorry Vaggie, I really don’t feel good,” she said, her voice still hoarse and weepy as she tossed the tear-soaked tissue into the trash.

“I know, Honey, I know… you’re really sick, I completely understand,” Vaggie said with a comforting smile, “What’s one thing I can do to make you feel better before you take a nap?”

Charlie coughed violently into her forearm, struggling to catch her breath afterward as she rubbed her chest with a splayed hand, “Uhm… E-eihh-KtSshheww! Could I have a glass of apple juice? I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast but the thought of food makes me queasy.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” Vaggie said, giving Charlie a thumbs up and hurrying out of their bedroom and down the stairs, pouring a glass of apple juice into a large plastic cup filled halfway with ice cubes before turning to head back upstairs. On her way toward the staircase, Vaggie was interrupted by Husk, who had gotten to the letter T on his inventory list.

“She gonna be alright?” Husk asked, his tone slightly curious as he tapped his lengthy claws against bottles of tequila, counting them in his head.

“I think so… I’m not too worried about anything happening to her, if an explosion can’t kill her I don’t think the flu’s got a chance… but it’s still heartbreaking to see her so miserable,” Vaggie said solemnly, “She’s really upset that she’s going to miss the summit and I’m trying to calm her down.”

“She’ll be fine, there’ll be others… she isn’t missin’ much,” Husk scoffed, turning to shoot Vaggie an amused smile, “Best of luck, lemme know if there’s anything I can do to help while you’re takin’ care of her.”

“Will do,” Vaggie replied, rolling her eyes playfully before saluting Husk and walking back up the stairs with the large glass of apple juice in hand.

Alone again with his bottles, Husk began writing down the amount of tequila bottles behind the bar on his inventory sheet when he felt a looming presence around him and scoffed, completely unfazed and unamused with the perpetrator’s antics.

“Alastor, if you’re gonna skulk in the shadows like a dick, I’m not gonna humor you, either get up or fuck off,” Husk grumbled, looking over to the left of the bar as Alastor appeared out of the shadows, dusting himself off.

“Euch, no amount of bathing managed to get me clean enough,” Alastor gagged, sticking out his tongue, “Charlie is a lovely young lady, very kind, but also the thought of her germs being on me makes my skin crawl.”

“Oh please, you weren’t even near her, if anyone should be worried about gettin’ sick it’s me, and you don’t see me freakin’ out now do you?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms, smirking when Alastor gave him nothing but a flustered mess of indignant grumbling in response, “Mmhm, exactly.”

“I’m half inclined to avoid you for the foreseeable future if that’s the case,” Alastor said, taking a couple of steps away from Husk and wrinkling his nose in disgust, “Catching this is absolutely not in my plans for the upcoming week… or ever.”

“You don’t gotta worry about me, I’m fine,” Husk said, looking at Alastor with an unbothered look in his eyes and a playful smirk, “Nobody else is sick, not even close, you’re just a fuckin’ germaphobe.”

“Indeed I am, and I wear it with pride,” Alastor said, turning his nose up in the air, indignant that Husk was mocking him for his sense of caution.

“Well, can you wear it with pride someplace else? I’m busy,” Husk said, going back to counting bottles, his heart-shaped nose twitching slightly as he focused.

“Hmph! If you insist… I’ll be back,” Alastor sighed, retreating into his own shadow and vanishing to go back to whatever he was doing, leaving Husk alone behind the bar with nothing but his own breathing and the quiet ambience of the evening to keep him company.

For a moment, Husk pondered Alastor’s overblown concerns, realizing that for him the concerns were much more realistic, he spent the better part of three to four hours neck-deep in Charlie’s germs… and the flu was known for being particularly infectious…

“Nahhh, I’m fine, Alastor’s got the immune system of a wet sock in a wind tunnel, I’ll be fine,” Husk said in a futile attempt to reassure himself, “It was only a few hours, it takes longer than that to catch it from somebody… yeah.”

Husk paused, going back to examining his inventory sheet in silence when a violent tingling sensation from an unknown irritant radiated through his nose, causing his adorable heart-shaped button to twitch and wiggle. His nose grew itchier and itchier and itchier until-

“HRrr’SsCHOO! H-hRrr’SSCHUHH!”

Husk gave a damp sniffle, wiping at his nostrils with the back of his hand. Slightly nervous, Husk swallowed, choosing to ignore the fact that he felt a faint tickle in the back of his throat.

“I’m fine… I’m fine,” Husk insisted, chasing his willfully ignorant affirmations with a swig of whiskey.

#ha/zb/in ho/tel #snz #illness kink #gingey.rtf

43 notes · View notes