Tumgik
#& when i say actively i mean WHOLE HEAD POINTING DOWNWARDS
keepinventory · 2 months
Text
maintaining eye contact is one of the most unnecessary social rules ever made. who decided we should all look at eachothers wetballs
6 notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 10 months
Note
Spiderverse huh 👀 how uh
How do you feel about spider-punk 👁️👁️
a/n ohhh he's so boyfriend idc, but i feel like in an accidental way?? like his official stance would be something like 'defined relationships mainly exist in order to further consumerism and marriage is just a way for the government to be more involved in daily lives, etc'
and he'd probably also say he doesn't like consistency so he doesn't believe in dating, but the second he has a crush on someone he's so done for,, like if anyone asks about the person he likes he'll be like wdym??? we're literally married? but to the actual person he'd do nice things but pretend it has nothing to do with them lmao
i feel like he'd be so supportive too, like you could do anything and he'd be like wow, amazing, show stopping, what a way to fight against the establishment!!
anyways here's a little blurb bc i love him (in this one, the reader works in the news world, nothing too specific, just that they have a camera and a reason to go out of their way to risk their safety to take pictures of an active villain attack/crime)
warnings: me writing a character for the first time (so potentially a little ooc), a person that knows nothing about british people writing a british character, mutually pining besties
----
The whole thing had been an abrupt burst of chaos, and what no one ever talks about when it comes to any type of sudden disaster is the aftermath. Adrenaline starts to dwindle and you're forced to take in and process what happened.
You force yourself to breathe slowly as you examine your surroundings. The building across the street from you has sustained some major damage, but everything else still seems stable. Everyone you can see looks like they're safe and in the distance you can hear sirens. First responders are already making their way to the scene. That's a good sign, yet you can't bring yourself to feel relieved.
Not until a familiar blur of motion catches the corner of your eye. You step back, furthering yourself from the edge of the rooftop to give him some space. Knowing that he's okay enough to be swinging like that eases that tension in your chest. A fact he can never know because of how you ended up on this rooftop. So instead of smiling and greeting him the way you normally would, you cross your arms and keep your expression steady.
"Everythin' alright up here?" He keeps his tone casual, a subtle reminder that your best friend isn't your best friend right now.
You tilt your head, giving him a pointed look. You want to be as mad as you were at first, but seeing that he's uninjured always makes you lose any edge. He doesn't look like he's been hit or injured and he's standing in a way that doesn't favor a particular side of his body more than the other. He is, however, making a point of keeping an arm behind his back. Because he doesn't seem to be in any notable pain, you decide that your questions should wait until later, when you're somewhere where you can be concerned openly.
"Everything was alright on the ground." You lift the camera that's hanging from the strap around your neck. "...When I was doing my job."
He takes a step towards you, angling his head downwards and lowering his voice like someone might hear you even though you're stories above the people attempting to get through the aftermath of the incident. "You got plenty of photos before...I checked."
The last part is tacked on almost sheepishly, like there's something embarrassing about the admission. It takes you a second to get why. You didn't see him before he swung onto the scene, all business and not in the mood to even hear your justification for staying close to the action. That means your abrupt kidnapping relocation wasn't as sudden and unreasonable to him. He didn't just pluck you from the ground and place you on a rooftop he deemed safe enough at the first sign of increasing trouble. He had trusted you to take care of yourself until things escalated.
You fight to not soften. "Still." Tilting your chin up in an attempt to appear stern, you speak slowly. "You could've asked."
He sighs, shaking his head. "You would've said no."
"Yeah, and I would've been entitled to," you mumble, arms finally relaxing. "But...thanks." The second he pulled you away, the wall to the building you were standing closest to crumbled. Maybe you should give Hobie some credit for that.
"Y'know there was a barricade, and the authorities were saying somethin' about no press."
Ah. You knew he'd bring it up eventually. "I um--didn't notice."
He takes a step forward. "Didn't notice?"
"No, I was...busy."
"Doin' what?" He angles his head to one side and you're struck with the feeling that he finds this a lot more entertaining than you want him to.
You sigh. "Sneaking in through the back alley."
He lets out a breath that's suspiciously close to a laugh. You can picture his smile. "Atta girl, ignoring the regulations of a bureaucratic system that wants to keep the truth from the people."
A part of you is pleasantly surprised that he didn't take the opportunity to poke fun at what could be interpreted as a bit of hypocrisy. From time to time you like to gently remind him that nothing bad will happen if he doesn't go out of his way to break a rule because sometimes it's risky, especially with a secret identity. His response is always something along the lines of where's the fun in that?
"So I should have stayed down there?"
He pauses, not liking the turn this conversation is taking. Of course you can handle yourself and a bit of justified rebellion would never cause you any harm, but he can't exactly Spider-Man to the best of his ability with you there. It makes his attention drift back to you, to make sure you're okay. Was stranding you on a roof top the best solution? Maybe not, but you're stubborn and he had to act quickly. Besides, you never take these news reporting spats too seriously.
The corner of your mouth turns up, happy that you're winning this one. "You're sending mixed messages."
"You know how I feel about consistency."
You're about to say something else, a half thought out joke that never gets to develop because a nerve-inducing shout steals the moment. Your head snaps forward and so does Hobie's. "You're gonna have to..."
"Yep." He's approaching the edge the roof, but before he can leap off and into action, he turns. "Oh--before I forget--"
Hobie extends the arm that was tucked behind his back. He's holding something shielded by slightly crumpled, waxy paper. After a second, you realize the mesh of colors peaking out from it are flowers. Some of the stems making up the outer part of the arrangement are slightly bend and a few of the longer pieces have lost their petals. That does nothing to take away from how delicate they look. Your eyes grow wide at the gesture.
you reach out for them almost dumbly, "You got me these?"
He lets you take the bouquet, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his suit. "I uh--yeah." You grin as he clears his throat. "Snagged 'em from that soulless, corporate shop that drove out the last of the good ones. Thought they earned a bit of trouble and these reminded me of you."
Aw. He makes it so hard to be mad at him over abandoning you on a random roof when he does things like this. You look down at the flowers, smoothing out the edges of the paper they're wrapped in.
"They're a little outta shape, I co--"
"No," you shake your head, pulling the flowers towards you defensively, like he was trying to snatch them away, "They're mine and I love them, back off."
He holds his hands up in defense, "Alright, love, no one's taking 'em."
Your smile grows even fonder. "Good."
Another concerning yell reaches the two of you. "Gotta go."
"Wait!" He turns his head, but keeps moving towards the edge. "How am I supposed to get down? You webbed the door shut."
"I did do that," he pauses, but another loud yell echoes around the two of you before he can do anything. "I'll come back!"
"Don't--!" It is so hard to not call out his name sometimes.
He jumps, swinging away, "I'll make it up to you!"
You roll your eyes, adjusting your hold on the flowers. "Yeah," you mumble, knowing there's no way he can still hear you, "You better."
It doesn’t matter anyways, he always does.
----
a/n this was really fun to write! so if you like this and want more spider punk or spiderverse from me, feel free to send an ask
70 notes · View notes
psychewritesbs · 2 months
Note
Okay so chapter 248 has fuelled my delusional brainrot and I have something I want to share...
Be prepared on some megum-centric delusions cause my head is just full of him right now-
Gege is cooking something with Megumi and I think it could be leading to a potential connection with Tengen.
Is this an orchestrated development or fate? Could be both? But Kenjaku's will being passed onto Fushiguro Megumi specifically is an intriguing choice for Gege.
I know it's technically Sukuna that Kenjaku was banking on, and this development have slightly closed the door for my suspicions regarding Kenjaku particularly targeting Megumi. But what if I was accusing the wrong person the whole time?
I'm still not convinced that Tsumiki being possessed is just a lucky stroke of luck for Sukuna. I fully believe that someone was orchestrating for a 10 shadows user to be involved in the Culling Games. And I think this certain someone has managed to trick even the mastermind, Kenjaku, as well. And that someone is none other than... GRANNY TENGEN!
Now Tengen has always been a suspicious entity to me. And though she's long been absorbed by Kenjaku I think she's still pretty much actively playing the game. Like don't you think it's suspicious that Toji was hired by the Time Vessel Association and that his involvement broke the chains of destiny and that the consequences have led to the current events?
Whether everything was premeditated or just coincidence we cannot deny that with Toji's interference, Megumi's fate got indirectly tied with the Six Eyes who is connected by fate to Tengen as well. And maybe that was the goal all along.
Toji clashing with Gojo was a ploy to tie Megumi's fate with the 6 eyes and Tengen
What if Toji was hired, to pit him against Gojo knowing full well he'd lose? And his loss would affect the future of his son as well (seems a bit of a reach but I wouldn't call this delusional brainrot when I'm not reaching far into a bottom of a barrel). After all, Tengen seems to be an all-seeing and all-knowing entity. One of the long-standing theories is that she uses cursed energy to gain insight to anything and everything so it's natural she would be privy of Megumi's existence. This also brings to mind the narrator's words back in Shibuya saying Megumi is one of those who cannot escape the curse of the Zenin clan whereas Toji is the one who broke away from that 'curse'. The curse, in this new context, would be that anyone born with cursed energy is bound to Tengen's whims. And someone like Toji who is unbound by that curse is an anomaly while his son is not.
Megumi being given the finger-retrieval mission was a ploy to tie his fate with Sukuna
Megumi met Yuji because of this mission. Him eventually choosing to save Yuji despite the dangers arguably led to all this disaster. But the most suspicious thing about this is that both of them just so happens to have the strength and capability to be a vessel. Yuji's involvement with Sukuna is orchestrated by Kenjaku. But what about Megumi? Is it really coincidence or is it planned as well? (of course this point is banking on the idea that the mission came from the higher ups and not from Gojo).
Yorozu possessing Tsumiki was a ploy to tie Megumi's fate to Kenjaku's plan which involves Tengen
It's undeniable that it was Tsumiki's loss that gave Sukuna the opportune moment to take over Megumi. It was her loss that kickstarted Megumi's downward spiral and Sukuna fully taking over his body. And what did that lead to?
Kenjaku has now passed on his will to Sukuna who is inhabiting Megumi's body. And Tengen's soul is inside Megumi's body. Now I'm just blindly reaching in the dark, but I wonder if Tengen's plan was to get close (I mean inhabiting the same body is as close as you get) to someone possessing the 10 shadows and merge with the user's soul?
For what reason? I don't know but I suspect it has something to do with the cursed realm. Cause I'm a believer that the 10S is heavily related to the cursed realm. Not to mention, Megumi in the Culling Games has expressed his distrust of Tengen and I don't think Reggie, who warned him about Tengen and seems to know stuff about her, being Megumi's opponent is just a random matchup. And there is Reggie's words to "let fate toy with you", well Tengen is often times related to fate and if she's really behind all of this then she's basically toying with Megumi here.
Also I'm quite curious what effect does having 3 conscious souls (heavy assumption on Tengen being conscious) inhabiting one body will have? Add Kenjaku's will into the list and Megumi's inner space must be hell of a sight. Here's to hoping we'll get some pov from him soon and that we'll see some interactions between him and Tengen inside.
Oh and a brainrot regarding the Merger:
Remember the theories about Taira no Masakado's daughter, Takiyasha-hime, being the first 10 shadows user/is the reference for the 10S? She's known for her shadow familiars with the 2 main ones being a toad and a giant skeleton called the Gashadokuro. All along theories suggested that the Gashadokuro might have been the 9th or an extra shikigami but the Gojo vs Sukuna fight proved it invalid now. Some others theorized that Megumi's domain might develop into a Gashadokuro after seeing that vertebrae-looking thing during his fight with Reggie. But recent developments could be hinting that the merger monster (that looks like a skeletal centipede) is going to eventually be Megumi's Gashadokuro. And y'know what I quite like the idea of Megumi, a blessing, becoming the master of humanity's curse.
OOOOOH ANON. I'm loving the brain rot. Thanks for sharing. I was screaming in my head while reading lol.
Recently I caught onto the fact that the skeleton growing in Megumi's domain resembles the one in Sukuna's. Like what is going on sir?
And Granny Tenny? Yeah she's defo sus. Why does she look like Sukuna too?
Thanks for sending the fun brain rot! I am looking to getting answers and seeing how these ideas unfold because you said some good stuff here.
3 notes · View notes
subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years
Text
Live In Nanny
Villain!All Might x Reader
All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 
TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 
AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.
Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.
Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.
You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.
Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.
The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.
The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.
---
"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.
You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.
"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."
He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.
You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.
You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.
---
It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.
"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"
That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.
"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."
You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.
You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.
The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.
By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.
"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.
"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.
---
The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.
"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.
Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."
His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.
"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"
He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."
You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.
"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."
"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."
At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."
You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.
"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."
There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.
---
"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."
"What are they doing?"
He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.
"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."
---
A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 
Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 
---
Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.
Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.
"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.
"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."
"'Zuku is sick-"
"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."
But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.
"What are you doing?" You snapped.
"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.
The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."
"Well I can't get comfortable."
“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”
You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.
"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."
You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.
"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."
You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."
"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."
He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.
"You've been such a good mommy."
God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.
"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."
"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"
A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."
"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.
Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.
"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.
You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.
"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."
You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.
"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."
You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.
Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.
"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."
He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."
You shook your head violently.
With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.
Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.
"You're doing so good, taking me so well."
He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.
"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.
"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."
You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.
"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."
"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"
You nodded, gasping for air.
"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"
You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.
He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.
"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"
"No! No no no, don't stop."
"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."
As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.
"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.
And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.
"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."
2K notes · View notes
delicrieux · 3 years
Text
☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 24: OH...HI
after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.
─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k
author’s note: we did it joe.
ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
Tumblr media
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on. 
Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish. 
She is not impressed.
“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”
Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy. 
“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.
“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”
“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”
And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands). 
So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding. 
“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.
“That implies that I’m always tactless.”
“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”
“And I can!”
“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”
...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”
Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”
“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”
She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”
“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”
“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”
“I’m not nervous!”
“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”
You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.” 
And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all. 
Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t. 
You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
Tumblr media
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]
The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world. 
A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.
The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.
You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about. 
“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.
His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.
Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease. 
You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do. 
You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.
He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind. 
You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.
He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.
Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”
He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.
Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!
“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.” 
Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.
“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”
“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”
“...Touche.”
Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused. 
So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.
You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”
Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.
After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves. 
“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”
He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”
“Side hoe, then-”
“-No.”
You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop. 
The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.
“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”
His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.
“But I’d be a worm.”
“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”
“But you’d be human.”
He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”
“Those are the rules.”
“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”
“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”
“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”
Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.
“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.
“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”
“Sure.”
You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening. 
Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”
“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”
“...Fuck you.”
“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”
God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”
His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”
Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
2K notes · View notes
violettelueur · 3 years
Text
— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY THREE || THE ORIGIN OF BLIND OBEDIENCE 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen
↳ warnings : swearing + mention of violence + mention of hell + mention of killing + mention of fire + mention of burning + EXTREME grammar issues
↳ form : story
↳ published : 16 may
↳ pronouns : she/her
↳ word count : 2.5k
↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but….
↳ previous episode : the origin of blind obedience 
↳ next episode : accomplices
↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, this isn’t by best piece of work since it’s been a while (taking a break does affect my typing skills, i can’t lie ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ) but i hope you enjoy this episode and for a hint of the next and final episode, it will be about Y/N’s past...like a time line may i say...NO MORE HINTS FOR YOU ╲ʕ·ᴥ· ╲ʔ
Tumblr media
1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.
2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’. 
Destructive Curse Spell number four: Byakurai : 5:04-5:17
Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku : 3:56-4:05
Binding Curse Spell number sixty-one: Rikojokoro : 2:08-2:14
Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien : 6:08-6:12 (but if you have read the manga...you know what Sukuna did)
2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better…
3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.
Tumblr media
“That’s a bit rude to say, don’t you think? Have some respect child,” the woman uttered in annoyance before you violently pushed your katana forward causing your opponent to be shoved away to some distance leaving space between you both.
“Respect goes both ways, you drag,” you replied back as you processed to raise your katana with a hint of excitement lingering within the blade as your cursed energy began to automatically flow to the black blade like the river you were near right now within the domain you were in.
“Don’t you think we should take this fight outside? I don’t want your little friends to get in the way,” your opponent queried. However, that question went from one ear to the other ear for you as you began to figure out what the plan was right now since you and your classmates were now dealing with two to three opponents.
‘Time...how much time do I have....how much time do I actually need?’
“It’s not good to daze out during a battle, what happens if I suddenly attack you?” the opposition taunted, yet you still didn’t have some sort of reaction like she wanted, causing a frown of irritation to gradually appear on her face.
Suddenly, you began to transfer some of your cursed energy to your arms and legs before swiftly pushing the ball of your right foot to push yourself forward before processing to swing your katana down, surprising the women in front of you as she quickly raised her metal tonfas to narrowly block your ambush, only for your other hand to reach the side of your belt to speedily unhook the polearm that was hanging on the side before fully swinging it towards the side of your enemy’s body.
Utilising some more cursed energy, the polearm immediately extended causing the metal pole to harshly smash into the side of the woman’s hip causing her to groan loudly in pain before hurling downwards like she was going to vomit, only for your foot to suddenly make contact with her stomach as you used your cursed energy to enhance the strength of your kick causing your opponent’s body to be thrust forward at a rapid rate as it pushed itself passed the wall of the domain you were in.
“You guys make sure to deal with that curse and the domain, I’ll handle her!” you shouted at your classmates in a panic before forcing yourself past the barrier of the domain that you were in to run after your attacker leading you to come back to where you were in the beginning, under Yashachi Bridge.
Currently, in front of you, was the woman crouching down while coughing in pain as she clenched her stomach causing you to take a few steady steps towards her body while raising your polearm over your head leading the woman to her to raise her head only to see the murderous look in your eyes causing a large wave of utter terror to consume her. 
From all the years she had taken care of you, never once did she ever come to view the look that you were wearing right now. When you were just a child, you were somewhat of the quiet type and never really had the effort to make any friends yet for some reason, people were able to come up to you for help and you would gladly offer your guidance to them. From her view of you, never once you had expressed such extreme emotions as you did now.
“When did- When did you become like this?” your opponent muttered while groaning in pain causing you to look at her with a lack of emotions as you began to slowly detach yourself from every memory of the woman that was at the lowest point right now. “When did you get this strong in such a short amount of time?” she questioned angrily, before slowly coming back up on her feet before raising the metal tonfas that now had a noticeable slanted side causing you to realise that your katana had cut through the metal.
However, before you could even observe your opponent’s weapon further, she suddenly came forward towards your direction, leading you to lower your polearm to use it as a guard which caused her right metal tonfa to come into contact with the dark blue metal. Quickly, you forced your foot to dig into the soiled ground to hold onto the dominance you had in this fight before swinging your other hand to make use of the katana you had in your other hand only to suddenly make your opponent come to view with the handle but without the blade that was usually there.
“Oh...sorry...I forgot I activated the technique,” you announced in a low tone causing your attacker to look at the ‘weapon’ with complete confusion in here eyes before an unexpected gust of wind came causing a few pink petals to come into view as the flowed past both of you and the woman you were fighting.
“But you didn’t activate your domain expansion...how are petals surrounding us right now?” your opponent stuttered as more petals began to surround you both leading the woman’s eyes to widen as she was coming to the realisation that she was now going to be en-caged by the flowery technique.
“Why should I tell you? It’s more fun to keep a few secrets here and there, you know,” you answered as swiftly slide the handle back into the wooden sheath that was hanging behind you to proceed using your free hand to grab the upper area of the pole before violently pushing the pole forward causing the metal tonfa to be released forcibly from her tight grasp following by you thrusting the polearm forward which lead to the sharp blade to slit a cut on the cheek of the woman in front of you generating a wince out of her.
Continuing your sequence of attacks, you let your upper grasp from the polearm go, causing you to pull your hand back, spawning a large wave of petals to follow along, leaving no time for your opponent to react as a multitude of petals from behind to beginning cutting her left arm in the process with no mercy whatsoever.
Screaming through the pain, your opponent attempted to pull her arm away from the surprisingly brutal attack, only for the petals to keep it anchored in the pink wave leading more slashed to be produced in the process before all of the pink petals separated themselves out into single petals to act like normal petals falling from cherry blossom trees when in reality, you were the one controlling them.
Now with her one side covered in blood and cuts, the woman’s grip for her left metal tonfa was getting weaker and weaker by the second, unable to keep a hold on the only weapon she had right now. “You’ve become a monster…” the woman muttered as she observed the horrid sight of her arm before turning back to look at you, only to find your arm raised up like you were pointing at her.
“Destructive Curse Spell number four: Byakurai,” you chanted quietly, leading the familiar high-density of cursed energy being discharged from the tip of your index finger to form a concentrated bolt of lightning causing your opponent to use her right hand to grab something from her pocket before throwing it towards the direction of the sparking blue blast causing the thunderbolts to explode destructively leading the ends of the light to hit the ground causing massive cracks and indents to be created.
‘Shit...maybe I shouldn’t use as much cursed energy like that again…’ you thought as you tutted at the result of the women’s defence before facing forward again to check the smoke that was soon clearing.
‘The use of jewels condensed with cursed energy is something she can do...I completely forgot about that. If I can recall, they can be used like bullets meaning they are fast...a little too fast for the petals…’
As expected, there was a sudden hint of light coming through the smoke leading a few jewels to shoot through the smoke before it cleared, leading you to rapidly gather enough cursed energy to your hand at a speed you rarely needed to be at.
“Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku!” you shouted leading a large clear rectangular wall to swiftly manifest in front of you, blocking the jewels as they exploded the split second they made contact with your shield leading a massive gust of wind the rush past. Without any sort of hesitation, the wall suddenly disintegrated while you swung your arm up leading the pink petals around you to follow your lead as you noticed the woman’s shadow moved up as the smoke continued to clear itself as the petals moved past it leading to your attacker’s eyes to widen once she noticed you were following her movements even when she was in the air.
Once you moved your hand to the right, the wave of petals began to move the same direction, causing the lady to notice that the massive wave was now behind the body leading you to swing the same arm downwards to engulf her as your raised the metal tip of the blade of your polearm to where you last saw her body before it disappeared within the sea of petals.
“Binding Curse Spell number sixty-one: Rikojokoro!' you chanted once again, leading to your cursed energy to manifest a spark of yellow energy on the tip of the polearm’s blade, which summoned six thin, wide beams of light that harshly slammed into the midsection of your opponent, causing her to fall from the sky resulting in her body slamming to the ground to which then you could observe how much damaged the petals have generated.
From your sights, there was a multitude of cuts to the woman’s body, all over her legs to the apples of her cheek, making the one you had caused earlier seem like a minor training injury as blood began to slowly descend from each opened wound which was too many to count. However, it seemed as if the woman wasn’t going to give up easily as she shockingly began to sluggishly lift herself up with her feet.
“You...heartless child...is this what you jujutsu sorcerers’ stand for? You...have never...asked...for what we want, and here you are...stabbing us without question...Y/N, we need you for what we want to achieve, don’t you want to know...what that is?” your opponent muttered, leading blood to drip from the corner of her mouth once she managed to stand on her feet leading you to smirk before a giggle began to emit from your mouth, shocking the woman, who you once used to call your mother, as fear began to cloud her expression once again.
“You expect me to ask! That’s the funniest thing I have heard to date hahaha, don’t make me laugh, you drag,” you responded before covering your mouth with your free hand as petals began to flutter around again as if they didn’t cause the horrific injury scattered around the woman’s body right now.
“Understand this, you can’t ‘need’ me...don’t drag me into your plans,” you mentioned with the smirk widening before transferring your cursed energy away from the polearm causing it to narrow back down into the small section just like how it was handed to you by Gojo before hooking it back to your belt. “Me, a monster? I can understand why you would call me that, it is expected from you curse users and cursed spirits haha,” you muttered in a taunting tone before opening your palm leading to some of the petals flying about to come towards your hand.
“Let me admit, I realised this quite late...or maybe it’s because of the mental state that I am in right now. The crown that I have been given by the people within the jujutsu world isn’t enough for me...being a queen on the chessboard isn’t enough yet I don’t have a god complex like Gojo Satoru...there are people below me and will forever stand below me...and you are one of them,” you announced before laughing in front of the women’s face as more petals began to gather within your open palm.
“Sukuna may sit on his throne but I will forever stand on my feet like I always do for my domain expansion...I hold the four pillars of the jujutsu world meaning the clans are within the palm of my hand...yet...they can burn within the second I want them to,” you sinisterly explained leading the petals within your palm to start burning.
“Remember this even after your death, you drag...I will always win...because I am L/N Y/N… the head of the L/N clan...I...will...always...win, see you in hell when I get there,” you stated with venom lasted into your tone before standing sideways as you used your other hand to grasp onto the flame before pulling it back like a sting of a bow as the fire manifested itself to shape like a large arrow
“Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien,” you whispered before shooting the flaming arrow towards the woman causing the burned petals to stab the woman within the chest before it consumed her body with its violent flames leaving you to view the gruesome slight with no emotions present at all on your face as petals began to manifest from the flames before joining with the other petals that were flowing around the area you were in.
Taking the handle of your katana out, you allowed the petals to gradually merge together to generate the black blade that was supposed to be there before sliding it back in its wooden sheath.
“Should I run?” you question yourself in a quiet tone, as you turned your head back to see the forest that was standing behind you, opening its arm to let you escape again and disappear from the world of jujutsu sorcery like you had since the beginning. However, in the back of your mind, you knew that Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki were going to come looking for you, yet by the time they had the chance to, you would have been gone by then...gone somewhere far away.
“Should I run?” you whispered again as if you were waiting for someone to answer your question. However, as you had expected, nothing but the wind answered you leaving you in a state of confusion but weirdly peaceful as well. Now that you thought about it, this was the first time in a long time you were able to be alone with yourself and your thoughts due to you being disturbed by Gojo or anyone within the Jujutsu Tech institution as well.
Steadily, you turned your body to fully face the forest that was now tempting you to run into.
Slowly, you took one step forward.
Tumblr media
© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost
423 notes · View notes
husbandohunter · 3 years
Text
Moments of Despair #2 [Genshin Impact/Albedo x Reader]
Tumblr media
Synopsis: "The alchemist who relished in his gifts only to fall from grace."
(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).
Diluc’s despair
Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death and psychological horror (correct me if otherwise)
(A/n): I decided to take a slightly different approach this time. Regardless, it’s still killing my heart TwT.
---------------------------------------------------
Out of the many wonders of Teyvat, one thing Albedo loved most was how you were so different from him. 
Difference ties to the unknown, one that must be discovered. He was drawn to you the first time he had laid his eyes upon your form standing at the heights of Mondstadt's cathedral. The Sisters scolded you from below, but all you did was reply with a wink amidst their chaos before soaring into the skies and letting the wind carry your glider. Reckless they said. For him, your recklessness was intriguing. 
As the sun's light blinded his vision, everything he saw seemed like a glass barrier. For the ground was where he thrived and chalk was his core, it became the basis of Albedo's very existence. Even the geo Archon granted him a Vision of the same element to affirm his identity. The earth will forever be attached to his feet as he will keep on his stride until every last truth of Teyvat have all been realized. You, on the other hand, hailed from a place where he couldn't quite reach. What lies beyond this glass ceiling? Albedo found himself gradually holding onto a string of curiosities, a string he could touch but was not able to feel. 
'Interesting,' he thought quietly, while the breeze slip between the fingers of his outstretched hand. 
He was a character of logic, possessing sharp eyes that could pierce through the depths of the most complex formulas and a mind to predict their outcomes-  as long as alchemy was still related. All impossibilities thrown in his way only paved a path for him to become the well known genius he was now. Whether it was alchemy or  investigations with the Knights of Favonius, Albedo never failed to deliver the answers. But despite it all, he always found himself endlessly contemplating over things that were considered intangible. He wonders why you smile when there was nothing to laugh about. How could you tell between the complexities of the human heart? Albedo can't seem to put a finger on it. 
'Why? What drives you? What are you thinking?' 
The Chief Alchemist couldn't resist being fascinated by your unpredictability. It reels him in similar to a fish being baited out of the waters. However, unlike those creatures, Albedo only tightened his grip on the strings as if they were a lifeline, determined to find out what they truly felt like to the touch. 
"I can't really say it's much of an answer," you hummed, clasping both hands behind your back before declaring with a grin, "To put it simply, you just gotta follow your heart."
'Follow your heart...' What does it mean to follow your heart? 
"I'm afraid I still don't understand," he replied in a thoughtful manner. The statement never really resonated with him and it certainly weren't the words his Master taught when he was in the early stages of being created, "But it does suit you very much." 
"Really? But still bring your head with you," a playful laugh escapes and you add while pointing a finger, "At least, it's what everyone tells me these days." 
"Hm," Albedo then affirms with a nod, "I can definitely see why they would tell you that." 
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" 
The days go by and his repetitious march towards the truth remains the same. However, there was never a dull moment when you were at his side. Perhaps that was the reason why Albedo became so attracted to your aura. The way you'd follow around his experiments, eyes so full of enthusiasm at every step of the activity. Sometimes the events can get a little too out of hand in which he needs to step in and save you from getting stuck in slime condensates...constantly. Albedo grew fond of your childlike excitement even when you weren't entirely sure what was going on. He normally distanced himself from socializing as it never sparked his interest. Frankly, he was too much of a genius for mundane conversations. Your presence was rather refreshing in this case. You were an oddball, just like him, and for once the alchemist felt like he didn't need to place that glass barrier between the two worlds. 
"You seem to be in a very good mood today Mister Albedo." 
He was a man of subtle expressions yet anyone could notice the small gleam in his eyes whenever he saw you walking in the hallway. Sucrose often remarked with a giggle after she noticed her teacher holding his documents upside down. But who could blame him? Joy, fun, laughter. He was able to experience those emotions all because of you; his beloved. You were the colour to his canvas and the meaning to his flower. You were a force of nature. Like a warm breeze gracing upon the terrestrial lands, you move him. 
Thump- thump- thump- 
Strings around his world began to weave one whole picture while they also tugged inside his chest. God had finally blown the breath of life into mankind's body, it was only a matter of time before Albedo came to follow his heart too. 
-------- 
"Alright, just one more detail aaaaand done!" 
You gave a small tap using the tip of your pencil and leaned back to examine your artwork. 
Masterpiece! 
On days when Katheryne had no commissions assigned to the guild, Albedo would accompany you to the Whispering Woods and conduct his sketches there instead. He was aware of the discomfort Dragonspine brought as the temperature wasn't ideal for anyone except for him. You eventually learned that your lover was not only intelligently different from the rest but physically too. Albedo, aside from the Cavalry Captain, was mysterious in his own way. He was hard to read yet never came off as intimidating, no one knew of his origins nor they knew how he came to Mondstadt. You wondered why someone like him would have wanted to get involved with your shenanigans. Rosaria often gave warnings regarding the alchemist's 'hidden intentions' in which you'd roll your eyes in response. The Albedo you knew was far from that. He was a big brother to Klee, a man passionate about his work, he was the one golden star among the many silvers in your sky. He was your lover. 
My Albedo. 
Brushing a hand upon the drawing you made of him, you glided down the lines of his cheek before resting your finger on the mark by his neck. You gazed at it with fondness. Truly a masterpiece indeed. 
"You do realize I'm still here?" 
The paper nearly flies out of your grasp and you snatched it back to your chest, "HUH A-ALBEDO, WHEN DID YOU APPEAR???" 
"I was with you the whole time," he states. The corner of his lip tug upward ever so slightly, "You said you wanted to sketch me." 
"A-Ahahaha, so I did," you reply while scratching your head bashfully. 'I thought I was looking at a sculpture!!'  You rushed to cover your face with the sheet. It wasn't that you forgot he was there, rather, you forgot he was still a living and breathing specimen who just witnessed your little serenade. As Lisa had once said, Albedo was easy on the eyes. His graceful features made him seem almost like an oil painting that could only be found in  halls of the most prestigious households. You made sure to capture everything, every detail, every curve just like he had done with your portraits. Only now you noticed the sun already began its descent below the lakeside, dusting the landscape with hints of bright orange as it marked the day's end. If only time could slow down. But duty calls upon your next journey and there was no telling when you'd return. At the very least, a simple portrait would suffice to fill in the temporary gap of his absence. 
"Can I see it?" 
You glanced his direction while keeping the drawing close to your nose, "Are you sure about that? It might not be up to your expectations." 
"I'm sure," Albedo affirms with a straight countenance, "I can already tell you've put a great amount of effort, otherwise you wouldn't have taken this long." 
"Yeeaahh I kinda lost track of time. I guess it's only fair that you get to see the finished product," you say and shoved the drawing in front of him, "Tada! I present to you, my masterpiece!" 
Albedo takes it out of your grasp and you watched the way his eyes expanded upon sight. 
"Well? Whaddya think?" 
Words could not describe the mixture of emotions that erupted within him. Was it distinguishable or abstract? Albedo spent his time pondering between the two answers as he examined the drawing closely. Despite the lines being slightly jagged and the unevenness in the placement of his eyes, he managed to make the shape of the entire image you were trying to convey. Perhaps it was all thanks to his well trained artistic vision which gave him the ability to do so. Or maybe he was simply biased. But there wasn't a shred of doubt that this was indeed your craftsmanship. 
"You even added flowers in the background," he pointed out with amusement. 
"It's the thing you make when using your elemental burst, I couldn't fit your hand in the picture so I decided to put it somewhere empty," you informed, "Out of everything, that one took me the longest." 
"And the rabbits?" 
"They resemble Klee's bombs!" 
He lets out a chuckle, "I see." 
Albedo kept his attention downward until he was mindlessly staring at the paper in hand. This was a memory made to be carried as you moved on to your next journey and it saddens him that he could not accompany you. If only time slowed down. Albedo wanted to hold onto the memory forever, because he knew once he gave it back, he wouldn't be able to see you for an uncertain amount of time. 
"Do you really have to go?" 
His voice was barely above a whisper. Guilt crept into your heart and you gingerly layed your fingers on his gloved ones, bringing down the paper that blocked his face. A pair of teal orbs held a reflection of your image as the sun's rays casted from the side. You returned it with a reassuring grin, hoping to soothe his worries somehow, "I just need to pay a visit to my father since he's been very sick lately. I'll be fine, so don't worry too much okay?" 
Albedo turns over his palm and gave your hand a squeeze, "How long will it take?" 
"I'm not sure but it will be a while. Snezhnaya is pretty far so..." you trailed off, "But my time in Mondstadt, with Klee and with you, I will never forget! I won't even if I tried." 
When you were met with no answer, a breeze came in to fill the melancholic silence. He too will not forget and he would ensure that it was the same for you. Slowly, Albedo brought your hand up, past the center of his heart all the way to cupping his cheek. He allowed himself to indulge in your warmth, tangling the strands of his hair with your fingers while closing his eyes. Sweet flowers. You always carried the smell of sweet flowers. 
"Albedo?" You gawked, "What's the matter?" 
"...There are certain aspects where drawings can't imitate,"  he says, grip tightening ever so slightly, "How I feel against your skin, the shape of my jaw, your warmth radiating with my own. These are the things I want you to remember." 
Breath leaves your slightly parted mouth. It was unfair how straightforward Albedo could be when showing his affection. Doing as he pleases without anyone's approval to the point it would even catch you off guard since he often absorbed himself in the arts of alchemy. But during times when Albedo did choose to express his feelings, you knew they came from a place of pure genuinity. The thought made it hard for you to tear away from him, "Did you ever find out what the strings felt like then?" 
Albedo returns his gaze, long golden lashes hovering them as he smiles softly, "...I have." 
As he began to reveal his stories, the dusk sky continued to flare across the landscape with colours of passion. Red, it was the thread that had led him to you, the same string that weaved him together as a whole. Albedo lays a kiss atop of your pinky, there was a reason why Mondstadtians called him the Chalk Prince. You didn't know the intention behind his sudden affection but he knew. It was a promise, one to ensure that the thread would also have you return safely back into his arms. 
Oh how he hated the colour red. 
"Al...bedo..." 
With speed he never knew he had, Albedo scoops you into his embrace and held you close. How did everything happen so fast? He curses his mind as it proceeds to scan your injuries, drawing a conclusion where he wished to be wrong for once: 
You were beyond help. 
"Ah..haha..." you managed to laugh through bitter tears, "You don't have to say it. I know." 
His breath hitches, trying to make sense of the feeling that was slowly tearing him apart from the inside. It's not real. Of course it wasn't, it couldn't be. What other possible answer was there to explain the numbness stinging his fingers? The reason for his shaking? Everything felt so cold. Your body hardly registered to his to touch, you were losing so much blood. You were losing. He was going to lose you. 
"No," Albedo shakes his head, "We still have time. I'll go find help." 
Please, hold on. 
He forced himself to think. The ruin hunter ran off shortly after it had ambushed you, by now the Knights would eventually noticed and apprehended it on sight. They couldn't be too far. All he needed was to carry you back to safety and everyone can go home. Albedo darted his eyes all over the place, breaths becoming shallower with each passing second. Where? Where to go? Which route was best to not overexert your wounds? Think. Think. Think. Why couldn't he think? 
"A..." You watched him in your helpless state. Every part of you throbbed with pain but it pains you even more to see the renowned genius who stood atop the pedestal of elegance and grace so utterly, undoubtedly lost. This was not the goodbye you wanted, though death already had you tight in their grasps. Not yet. Using the last particle of your strength, you tried to stay alive as long as possible. Just a little bit more time. 
Albedo freezes when a trembling hand extends itself to cup around his cheek. Every single thought he had in mind vanished and was replaced by a loud ring resonating in his ears. Dreadfully, mechanically, he turns his attention to where you lay. 
"Don't cry," you whisper, "I love you, don't cry- okay?" 
Albedo grimaces, shutting his eyes closed as he allows the pent up sadness to flow out of him completely, "I can't," he said in a shaky voice, "Please. Stay." 
"I'm sorry," Your vision blurs and he hugs you even more. Drawing your final breath, you relay your most cherished words through a broken smile, "But no matter w-where I go...I won't for..ge.." 
The moment your hand fell, Albedo finally understood the difference between death and loss. 
It was...suffocating. Having the air trapped in his throat, begging to release yet it hurts to speak. The never ending stabs that pulsed within his veins rushed forth like the scraping  blizzard of Dragonspine until his whole body lost all its senses. The world was shattering. He could no longer feel your weight. He could no longer feel. 
(Y/n). 
Albedo glances at his blood stained fingers where the thread had been severed, wide eyes drowning in sorrow. What a horrible feeling. Was this a warning sent by the gods? For stepping into the boundaries of knowing too much? Ah the curse of knowledge man must bear when eating the temptatious fruit. It was the result of choosing to love you. With life, death is inevitable and with love, it will eventually bring pain. Everything had a price to pay and as an alchemist, Albedo knew that better than anyone. 
"...Meaningless..." 
But he refused to accept it. 
Cradling your corpse, he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead, lips quivering as they lingered for a second too long before gathering the strength to stand back on his feet. Nothing will stop the alchemist from reuniting with you. If the laws wished to take you away from him then he will use everything in his power to fight against those laws. 
"This is not goodbye..." Albedo said to the sleeping girl, "And it will never be." 
When the sun sinks below the plains and the stars lose their light, the sky had been replaced with a palette of darkness. It was time to go home. 
------ 
"Have you all heard about the rumours?" 
A group of knights gather in the corner as they whisper about. Sucrose stops on her tracks and hides behind a wall, clutching the book close to her chest in an attempt to stay hidden. 
"Another criminal disappeared from the dungeons? Crazy..." 
"More like creepy. I was told that place might be haunted by some dead prisoner's ghost. Even the Church is hopping onto this case." 
"Well I hope it doesn't get any worse. So many of us started going on night patrols..." 
Their voices faded out of range as the anemo user backtracks her steps carefully. Several months passed since the news of mysterious kidnappings have been announced to the public. Rumours of their whereabouts swirled around the city and much to her discomfort, Sucrose happened to catch every single one of them. There couldn't possibly be evil spirits lurking in the Favonious Headquarters right? She silently shrieks at the thought, shaking her head furiously to stop her mind from going too deep. No, I have to find him. Without wasting another minute, the anemo user sprinted towards the stairs all the way up to the second floor before stopping directly in front of her teacher's office. Despite the adrenaline that occured at the same time, she made sure to knock. 
No answer. 
"Strange, he told me he would be here today..." Sucrose muttered to herself. But suddenly she heard the sound of objects shifting from the otherside, signaling that there was indeed someone occupying the room. Without realizing, she held her breath out of anticipation. 
"Come in." 
The door creaks as she opens them, giving her enough space to slip between the gap, "Mister Albedo?" 
"You're early today," The Chief Alchemist noted from his desk, "Is there something the matter?" 
"Y-You mean you don't know? There was just another case about a person disappearing from the dungeons," Her tone became more frantic as she rambled to herself, "The kidnapper never leaves a trace and no one knows how they were able to get out. Even when we ask the guards what happened, they can't seem to remember as if...as if someone casted a spell on them!" 
"A spell?" He inquires, "I suppose that could be a possibility." 
"I think so too. I-It's the only explanation that makes sense! I mean...ghosts don't exist after all," Sucrose nervously looks down at her shoes while giving her book a squeeze, "But why? Who could be capable of such advanced techniques? No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to understand their intentions." 
"...Yes. It is a very strange occurrence indeed." 
Noticing her teacher's withdrawn attitude, Sucrose couldn't help but feel flustered at her own behaviour, "Ah my apologies Mister Albedo, I didn't mean to go off track. Have there been any progress on the investigations so far?" 
Albedo briefly glanced at the various documents splayed across his table. His reputation as an incredibly intelligent individual had reached far and wide through Mondstadt. This led to the authorities requesting his assistance regarding the recent matters, despite him specializing in the alchemical field, he was also the Captain of their Investigation Team. Although, Albedo detested partaking in things he deemed irrelevant to his research; 
"I'm afraid I would need more evidence to draw a conclusion." 
"Eh? You still need more?" 
He could not deny that the given authoritative position had provided much benefits to his own accord. 
"My expertise lies in the subject of alchemy," Albedo reasoned and proceeds to intertwine his fingers in front of his mouth, "Humans on the other hand, are very unpredictable in nature. Even the essence of their existence is hard to obtain." 
"Essence of their existence?" Sucrose repeated softly. She wanted to ask what he meant but the blank expression was evident  enough to signal his impatience. At least, that was what she thought, "Nevermind! I have something that might help," taking out a slip from her textbook, she handed it to him, "It's the report Captain Kaeya gave me. He said that the culprit might be a traitor coming from the Knights of Favonius." 
He narrows his eyes. 
"I-I think he might be right! Just think about it, we haven't found anything at all for the past few months but when we do, I sometimes feel like we're just running in circles...oh what if it's becau-" 
"Sucrose." 
"Y-Yes?!" 
Albedo calmly looks at the flustered girl, not realizing how sharp his tone was, "You're overthinking again. Perhaps it's best that you take this day off." 
"But I came here to help," she insisted, "I know it hurts to lose someone you love! Don't you understand that we're all worried about you? And Klee, she..." 
"..." 
"Please Mister Albedo, if there's anything I could do-" 
"No need," he cuts her off once again, "Your stress levels are too high. We can't go any further if you continue to act like this." 
"Oh," her ruby eyes casted to the side, "I understand..." 
"Good. Now, if you would excuse me," Albedo bid her farewell and watched as the door clicked behind her, observing every detail until he was sure that the absolute silence had returned. He picks up Kaeya's document. Such remarkable handwriting. But of course, appearances are only meant to be displayed on the surface for the Captain was a sly man, wearing a mask to shield what lies underneath. Just like his letter, they were full of innuendos and condensed meanings, orchestrated together until the truth spoke loudly to Albedo himself. 
"So, that's what he thinks." 
Perhaps the alchemist should have been a little more discreet. 
-------- 
There was a certain place in Dragonspine that no one dared to enter. But those who have, they never return. 
"Hm, no response. Now as for the next step..." 
And he was the reason why. 
Taking the sword out of the transmutation circle, Albedo turned to the snowy hill nearby and activated his alchemy. A small portion of it dissipates, revealing a trench that went so deep underground that even warmth couldn't outplay the sheer cold. It was the perfect hiding place for the evidence to lay out of sight and an environment where only he could handle. The alchemist tossed the leftover along with the others before exiting quietly, summoning back the ice to bury his victims once again. Another day, another experiment, another stain goes to his title. The path he walked upon was one littered with corpses and the sins he committed. But despite the bones crunching beneath his feet and the weight of the dead hanging on his shoulders, the alchemist was numb to it all. Like an entity floating in space with nothing to hold, he became unable to feel. 
"I'm back," When reaching the center of Starglow Cavern, Albedo puts his hand on the icicle and caressed it's hard cold surface, "Did you sleep well?" 
The girl did not respond. Her eyes were closed and her skin was as young as ever. She was frozen in time. 
"You must have." 
Albedo felt the sword beginning to shake in his grasp as it resonated with his energy. Dust particles emitted from the hilt and slowly made their climb to the side of his arm. Still, Albedo's attention did not waver, "To this day, I've been thinking about what you told me the first time we met." 
"..." 
"Follow your heart. I couldn't understand it at first but after being around your presence, I believe I can finally recognize what that term means." 
He closes his eyes as he envisioned your lively form running across the landscape. Albedo, Albedo! The sound of his name was mixed with your laughter while Klee came into the scene and caught the dandelions with you. A content smile formed on his countenance as he watched from afar, even if it was just a memory, "It's everything. The breakfast we ate together, to the nights spent camping outside, and the silly moments we shared, they bring all these colours that I never knew existed." 
"..." 
Albedo curls his fingers against the ice as he continues to lament, "Perhaps that's why I began noticing the strings around me. The closer I was to answer, the more I felt it was necessary to discover what they are. All this time, you were the answer I was searching for," Moist begins to build up in his eyes but they freeze up once reaching the corners. How cruel. Despite what he went through, he wasn't even granted the liberty to cry, "Because with you, I'm able to feel them." 
He wonders what you would think if you saw him right now. Albedo peers at his reflection casted on the crystalline surface, the frame of his face had been decorated with streaks of purple and red, spreading out like tree branches as they both fought for dominance. The teal coloured orbs you once adored were beginning to transform to a colour that reminded him of his darkest days. This was Albedo's true nature- a monster, a being that wasn't human, the essence in which you never had the chance to see. 
"I know I may not be the same as I was before," he added, "But if that is what it takes to follow your heart, will you let me feel the strings again?" 
Would you still love me the same? 
"..." 
"If so, then please understand my actions," Albedo takes a step back as he held out the sword in front of him. At last, the preparations have finally been completed. He plunges the blade to the ground with full force and the surrounding area begins to shake under the power accumulated through many, intentional sacrifices. To revive the dead was a forbidden art as it came with heavy consequences. If it weren't for Albedo's talent and quick wit, the process would have consumed him long before executing the last stage. He winces, the pain was excruciating. It was hard for him to ignore the sound of his skin cracking below his ears and all the way to his nose as they fall off in the shape of small rock-like chunks. Everything hurt so much that even death sounded like a sweet dream but Albedo couldn't afford to give up. He had already come this far, his hands completely washed with sin and his reputation already broken beyond repair, Albedo had nowhere else to go. This was his last destination. 
"Soon-" he pants between choked breaths. Soon your eyes will open. He could drown in your embrace, one that was warm and not cold. Soon he will be able revive those cherished memories from a frozen past. It was all he could think of right now. Your existence was the reason why a part of him felt whole and your death made him realize how painful it was to tear away those pieces. Albedo refused to let go of those pieces, they had already become a part of him. And if this path ended up tearing him even more, then so be it. 
"I should have stopped you the moment you were born." 
The intruder snapped him awake and he swung around to where they stood. But before Albedo could make out who it was, they lunged past him with incredible speed, kicking the sword off the ground while severing his two arms once and for all. They flew to the side, blood dyed purple trickling from the edges of his joint as he struggled to stay upright. 
"Dains...leif..." 
Dainsleif watched the alchemist fall onto his back as the light around him slowly faded away. He turned his gaze to where the objective was and noticed a girl encased within the ice. The man sighs out of relief when she shows no signs of life, he came just in time, "So this is how it ends." 
Albedo weakly stared at the blonde man. He attempted to say something but the blood caught in his mouth prevented him from that. 
"Save your breath, you won't be having any," Dainsleif remarks in a cold manner and glared at his bloodied form, "The renowned Chief Alchemist of Mondstadt and an important member of Ordo Favonious. Hmph, what an interesting turn of events. Out of everyone, I never thought you were the type to act so foolish." 
Foolish...what a foreign name to be called as. He never heard anyone tell him he was foolish. 
"Truly a pity," With a flick of a wrist, Dainsleif brought his sword to Albedo's neck. It was unbelievable how he had the endurance to go through all that pain while still breathing at this point but what is there to be expected from a monster? "Remember that all actions have consequences." 
The alchemist watched as his life flashed before him, the weight of his sins had finally caught up. He had always seen the world as a platform for his objectives and results were merely a natural cause after attempting many experiments. But death as a consequences was an unbearble realization upon his final moments. He abandoned his title, his pupil and his dearest sister. In the end, he was still unable to fulfill his duty. 
"I just..." Albedo mumbled, his words slurring together, "wanted..." 
As the ashes turn to ashes and dust becomes dust, chalk returns to the earth, forever yearning a place that can never be reached.
569 notes · View notes
i-need-air · 3 years
Text
"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader.
Summary: Your former bully, Midori, has confessed her undying love for one of the most famous guys at U.A.; you're just venting gossiping about it with Mei, not knowing Bakugou Katsuki is right around the corner, listening;
Warnings: None. Well, Bakugou Katsuki having various anger induced strokes > the normal > no warnings; light crackfic? subtle ending;
Word count: 4.5k;
[ Part 2 ];
Tumblr media
"She confessed to him." You grinned, throwing a bunch of fries into your mouth like the absolute animal you were.
Mei on the other hand continued her work on whatever in the world her new prototype, or "baby", was. Still, you had the honor of having half of her attention, which was a compliment to say at least.
She just smiled, shaking her head, leading you to continue, not knowing a blond was quite literally behind the corner, just outside the door leading to the support department, frown on his face.
"She came to class giggling like an idiot saying she's got a plan." You made a face into the distance, remembering your classmate's obnoxious squeal. "Ugh, she started telling the Divas how she's gonna have The Bakugou Katsuki in the bag." An ugly snort left your body, which earned an amused chuckle from Mei.
Both of you were pretty well known to be very good friends, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were both quite the social pariahs too. She was a little bit strange or weird, as some called her, but not for a single second she cared, which was the reason you admired the girl so much in the first place. Meanwhile you've taken the role of the bitch of the whole school by far. Sadly, you were placed in the same class as your archenemy, only increasing your chances of being called said endearing term.
Middle-school was a nightmare to say at least, getting bullied for your looks, the way you spoke or dressed, anything really as long as you were the one being mocked. And who was the one doing the bullying? Midori. Stunning, graceful, baby-faced Midori. Petite yet elegant, a devil in disguise. Whoever crossed her path suffered her malice unless she had something to gain from them.
And now, sweet Midori was in the U.A.'s General Studies, coinciding with you in the majority but not all classes. It had to do with the tragedy that your quirk was so rare that the principal Nezu had to adjust a new schedule just for you. Just kidding, it was amazing. The actual tragedy was seeing her face every day.
Back to your heartbreaking backstory and origin; time made you tough, comments made you build a wall so tall and thick nobody could crumble it. Backstab after backstab made you learn that not everyone has good intentions, but in your loneliness you found Hatsume Mei. So honest and dedicated, so raw and passionate. A good person. The type of person your parents promised you'd someway cross paths with and gain such a strong friendship that nothing could tear it apart.
Becoming friends with her was easy, kinda. It took snapping back at Midori when she started her normal bullying routine on Mei, which ignored it without a care. You stepped in and the rest is history. It did feel good though, calling her a pathetic bitch before turning to the stranger with a cool gadget in her hands to compliment it. And, since she's a sucker for her babies, you had to deal with an hour of sparkly eyes and monologues about her plans and prototypes.
Funny girl, Mei. You remember thinking but the following day you passed by her usual spot to fill your curiosity, asking if she did solve the problem she was complaining about.
"He was the one she was planning to ask out?" She screamed at you, head inside a giant metal gauntlet and the reason you two started talking about said man in particular. News were extra-fresh anyway.
"Oh, yeah!" You shook your head, ashamed to exist in the same general proximity as a person like your former bully. "He's gonna be so rich and famous!" A high pitched squeal left your mouth as you tried to copy her voice. "Poor fucking guy, if only he knew."
"But people know she's a bitch!" She screamed again, repairing or adjusting something with almost all of her body inside the gauntlet. A smile, genuine and soft this time, formed on your face. The pink-haired girl wasn't one to talk bad about others or even care, but it was clear she wasn't particularly fond with Midori either, although the conversation was more for you to vent rather than gossip. Sure it was.
"Like the people from the Hero Department even care about us, the commoners." With a roll of the eyes, you followed. "If he's smart, he'll run away. If he's an asshole, he could use her too."
"What do you mean?" Pink flocks of hair suddently submerged from the gadget, eyes curious zooming on you. That probably got more than 50% of her attention and it was a new personal goal while she was at the workshop.
With shrugged shoulders, your answer came nonchalant. "He could date her and dump her like she's nothing. Would serve her right for all the shit she's talking about him." But the only response you got was a short quizzical look, followed by your exagerated sigh. "She's talking shit about him constantly, but then says he's hot and that his personality doesn't matter anyway. Money, fame, looks. She has a whole fucking life-plan! Then calls him a rabid dog!"
"Woah—" that surprised her.
"Woah indeed! Insane. It's insane. I don't know the guy but no one deserves that shit." When you got no response, you continued your speech, munching in the food with passionate hunger, words coming out almost indistinguishable. "Doubt he'd play her though. He looks like a smart guy. I've seen the Sports Festival—" you picked up your burger, giving it heart eyes. "—and I've seen the news. He's probably a good guy too, the issue is people don't see that and... Well, I understand what's it to be judged... Not many have what it takes to be a real hero but he does. Hope he finds happiness in life." Much talk for someone that doesn't know shit about the guy in particular, but even so faint, your gut instinct was trained well enough to spot malice and he lacked that. "And a therapist." And there's the little shit in you that had to drop a cheeky comment.
Mei's gaze turned downwards and even if you could see her brain do mental gymnastics to solve whatever problem she had in front of her super-eyes, she also contemplated your words with great care.
"He comes here from time to time—" she grins, smacking the grenade looking gauntlet with her weird utensil. "I noticed you two are similar." Your face twisted, eyes wide towards the girl.
Similar how? He was loud, bold with a foul mouth, definitely needed a therapist for those unresolved anger issues... But he was also bright as in whenever he went, people looked in his direction, like he shined; obviously strong, also from what you've heard smart, popular, lucky to be surrounded by kind people. Example being that very nice pink girl that had a joyous conversation with you the very first day of school and, much to your surprise, continued greeting and having sweet small talks with you every single time you saw each other. Or the blond haired guy that showed off a little bit too much and made dumb flirty comments with no bad intentions, the same blond that waved at you with enthusiasm when you'd cross paths. There was the red-head, Kirishima, that was an absolute gentleman, opening doors for you even if you had two functioning hands and smiled so bright it made your corneas burn, or also the dark haired guy, Sero, that you've seen helping literally anyone in need around the school campus with an easy going attitude and gentle grins. Bakugou Katsuki was surrounded by good people, good heroes just as amazing as him and if they liked him, he must've definitely had some good in him, right? Another point appeared in your mental presentation about the brash hero in the making was that he was way too attractive but the wise burried deep inside of you made that particular point dissappear. No need to think about that. Overall you weren't even remotely similar. Not even close. Two completely different human beings from two completely different worlds that would never collide. With that being said, there was the small chance that Mei hinted for you to get a therapist too, who knows.
"How even—"
"I mean!" She screwed something in place. "I mean in your— determination?"
"I wouldn't know that." You muttered.
"He screams I'm gonna be the best every time he's here—"
"Cute..." You vomit that endearment without thinking, but thankfully it got ignored.
"—and it always reminds me of you." A small chuckle left your mouth.
"Don't make fun of me."
"You say it too~"
"I just heal, Mei, it's not the same." Principal Nezu's speech, the speech he gave your parents months into the first year as they found themselves aware of your power made you hold your words. You had it in you. The potential. If incredible people like your teachers, like Shuzenji Chiyo or Principal Nezu twisted things around for your quirk, for how rare and powerful it is, you'd accept it.
"But you're gonna be the best healer ever, aren't you?" She taunted.
"Of course. Which reminds me—!"
"Hmm?" Her attention faded away slightly, but it wasn't a problem.
She cheered, both at you and at her finished masterpiece and proceeded to eat too, passing through the lunch hour without interruption.
"Recovery Girl is putting me on active duty at the infirmary from now on. Finally!"
Innocent pale purple eyes stared into deep crimson ones, furrowed brows covering them.
Bakugou Katsuki wasn't one to enjoy being annoyed or surprised and this extra managed to make him feel both things in a short notice.
Everyone around him froze in fear or wonder, awaiting his response without breathing or moving an inch. Meanwhile Whoever-she-was held a pink envelope in front of him, a perfume too sweet coming from it making him want to literally gag in the spot.
Another thing the boy did not appreciate was to have someone bullshit him. His senses were telling him to back off, alarms ringing in his head and those purple eyes held hidden intentions; he wasn't having any of it.
"Fuck off." He snapped, yet his stance was casual as he refused to move out of her way since she was the one that had the audacity to run into him.
Some gasps, even coming from his so-called idiotic friends, could be heard and an indignant Bakubro behind him as he got slapped in the shoulder but he did not care. Not until her lips started to tremble as she retreated her confession letter towards her chest dramatically. His eyebrow started to twitch at the sight.
It was a spectacle for anyone surrounding him.
"What's going on?" Shushes and whispers.
"Bakugou Katsuki just got a confession!" Gossip.
"What!? Who?!" Confusion.
"You said Bakugou Katsuki?!" Shock.
"Oh, she's pretty!" Awe.
"He told her to Fuck off! What an asshole!" Outrage.
"Is that Midori?" Surprise.
"The nerve—" Anger.
"Midori from—" Disbelief.
"Oh, my God, she's really doing it~!" Giggles.
He frowned deeper. If people were to talk about him, they should be talking about all the crap he's been doing and all the lives he saved, not because of a fake bimbo decided to cross his path.
Bakugou wasn't stupid either. With time he knew these things would eventually come in his direction, stuff he'd have to deal with in the future as fame would take over, but not now. He did not have time to entertain this show anyway.
There was only one destination in his mind and she was keeping him in the middle of the whole school cafeteria with prying eyes on them both.
"Bakugou, do something, she's about to cry!" Dunce Face harshly whispered, but turned towards the white haired girl that looked devastated in front of them. "Ignore him! Ask me out, I would never make you cry!"
He rolled his eyes so back in his head it almost hurt. With a need to hurl the food he just ate, he made a step to leave the scene but small hands with claw-like fingernails gripped his arm and he looked at her in utter disgust.
"No, I would never! He—" she sniffled but had no tears in her eyes. He gave her a scowl, trying to take his arm out of her grip but she scratched him in place with her tiny rat hands. "You're the one I love! I—" her bangs covered her face as she continued her show.
"Bakugou! Dude! Do something!" Shitty Hair said, his dumb and blind trust in people buying the act. A vein almost popped on Bakugou's forehead.
"I fucking said—" he pulled his arm so hard she fell on her knees by his side. "Fuck. Off."
Another set of gasps filled the room.
"Bakugou!"
One thing he did not want, even if he could tell it was a foul theater, was to hurt somebody. His asshole act ended at that but his pride stopped him from saying anything.
Glancing to see if she's hurt, Pink Idiot was by her side, helping her up and asking way too many fucking questions.
"No, I'm fine..." she said with such a meek voice he scoffed, also hearing all the shit everyone around him was talking.
"He's such a brute."
"What a mean guy—"
"She's crying!"
"Fucking asshole."
He gritted his teeth.
After the disaster with the League of Villains in the first year, people started to respect him for who he was yet one single, minuscule shit like this and they were all at his jugular.
"I took Bakugou-san by surprise." She excused his behavior to Ashido, which then suggested they should eat lunch together sometimes to make up for the trouble after apologizing in his behalf.
"Yeah, we'd love to have you around! Isn't that right, Bakugou?" The apologetic and almost pleading voice of his blond friend, if he ever was going to call him that anymore, just made him bare his teeth. If they wanted to get played like fools it was their problem, not his.
And that's how he found himself eavesdropping on the weirdo and an extra.
And with a single "Whatever." he left the cafeteria, going to check if his gauntlets were ready, annoyance oozing off him, making the sea of people part from his path. Except he didn't notice you rushing away a little bit in front of him, holding a bag of food, all amused.
Why the fuck was everyone talking about him? Can't they fucking keep his pretty name outta their mouths? With time and without finding a reason why the hell he was glued in place, he listened attentively, his suspicions confirmed and his ego hurt, but whoever was talking about him calmed his nerves a lot. He just needed to put a face to that voice. Just to see who's gossiping about him, nothing else.
With a full belly and a whole afternoon to study by Recovery Girl's side, you marched towards the infirmary after you bid your farewell to Mei. There was still time to walk around, grab something sweet for later and save any poor soul that Midori decided to sink her teeth in. It was common at this point, you getting in between her and her victims and taking the hit, yet somehow also being called a bitch by everyone. That's how high-school worked. She did have friends and they spread any word she spat. Vultures.
It was fine though. Hero [Y/N] is there to save the day no matter what. You scoffed at your own stupidity, turning the corner just to step on a leg that was sprawled on the floor.
He clicked his tongue, getting up with no worry in the world, but made no action to leave, settling for observing and analyzing you way too intensely.
"Watch where the fuck you're going, idiot." The man of the hour, the guy you've defended in front of your friend just screamed at you as he dusted off the imprint of your shoe left on his pants. Meanwhile you just paled in place before regaining your composture.
"Why are you sitting on the floor?" You said, tilting your head with a frown, already knowing you will not apologize.
Unimpressed by what was going on, even if you truly couldn't point out what really was going on, you made an attempt to move past him towards the vending machines not far behind, but he caught your arm in a firm grip.
You blinked stupidly at the skin contact.
"Heard you were talkin' shit."
Your stomach dropped. Legs almost gave up too if it weren't for his iron grip holding you still. In the silence and at the satisfaction of the reaction you let out, he smirked and raised his chin, only Mei's singing voice coming from her workshop could be heard. Realization hit you. Hit you? Bitchslapped you in the face and left a mark for sure, because your cheeks started feeling heated, tingly.
He dragged you away, maybe to have the privacy to murder you in peace, but your common sense kicked in and you came back from the land of the mortified.
Much like he did before, action you saw with your two own eyes and repeated, you pulled out of his strong grip and stared as he turned towards you, mouth already opened to probably eat you alive.
"I wasn't talking shit about you, dude." You quickly spoke first.
"You don't fucking know me." He growled back, taking a step towards you but like hell you'd back down.
"Don't need to be besties to say what I said." Without understanding why he was so agitated, the only thing left to do after this beautiful turn of events was to defend the honor remaining in you, so you raised your chin to be at par with him. The action clearly took him by surprise, making him glare more, if even possible.
"I don't fucking appreciate when extras talk about me behind my back!"
"I don't give a shit what you appreciate, dude." Your laugh was the complete opposite of his menacing loud voice, like ying and yang.
"Bakugou, the name's fucking Bakugou, you extra!" Bakugou recovered quickly at your snappy self, getting more bothered as you talked.
"Okay, dude." His hands fisted, shaking in place as he stared you down but did not continue.
Silence; the hallway was now filled with silence as he boiled in his own anger and as you raised your brows in confusion. Now what? Was it time to leave? You've never met anyone like him, this was peculiar—
"NOW IT'S WHEN YOU FUCKING TELL ME YOUR SHITTY NAME, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!"
A second passes; two; at the third you're wheezing your lungs out, laughing at the ridiculousness of the scenario.
"What the fuck are you LAUGHING AT?!" His voice got louder just to top your howling. You did not expect that.
Through a sigh, regaining your breath, you say "It's [L/N] [Y/N].", seeing him retreat in his form and cross his arms. He was still seizing you up.
"If you have shit to say to me, say it to my fucking face, understood?"
"I—... Say what now?"
"I—." He copied in a mock, getting an incredulous look from you. "You stupid or what?" Your upper lip lifted, ready to cuss him to infinity and beyond but he continued. "Like about that bitch from before and shit—" even if he still was loud, he placed his hands in his pockets and looked more interested in the way the tiles on the wall were placed instead of your person. "An' like you told the weirdo—"
No time to be shocked at the implied; his last word enraged you, making your body shake with rage. "Don't fucking dare to call her a weirdo ever again."
Like a challenge, he snapped his face back at you, ready to take it.
"Or what?"
"Listen here, fucker—" now that was a nice surprised face he was pulling. "Just because I gave you a pat on the back in there doesn't mean you can disrespect people just because you think you're the shit. You're not. Now get out of my fucking way." With a final push to his shoulder, your mind was focused on going to the infirmary, steam almost coming out of your nostrils.
"Hey, extra!"
Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him. went through your mind, marching away without a glance back. Not until—
"[L/N]! You're a healer, hah?" That's interesting. He stood where you left him, watching.
"What's it to you?"
Someone sane would've left at your tone but this guy walked towards you then showed you his arms, recently scratched. Images came back to you about the cafeteria incident but did not underst—... did he want to get healed?
You scoffed.
"They're scratches, dude."
"They annoy me. Now heal." All the energy you had left in your body was channeled towards the slow blink you threw at him, at which he scoffed. But they did look nasty— and Midori did them. It was a curse by itself to look down at your own arms and remember that face, so the guardian angel in you decided to take control and be the better person.
Gentle fingers barely tapped his muscular arm. Smile crept up on your lips, feeling absolutely delighted at his obvious stiffness at the skin contact and the clear interest in his eyes, specially when the scratches started disappearing into nothing, leaving smooth silk skin under.
"Hey— Wha— Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" raspy voice got lost in the distance and one thought in your head.
"Want a lollipop for being a good patient too?" You mock and his face explodes in all shapes of red. It would've been great to mock him more, enthralled by his reactions, but with that you turned and left, ignoring the tingling under your fingers that should not be there and your stomping heart.
Did he wait all the lunchbreak to talk to you?
A long queue was ahead of you, earning the longest sigh out of your lungs. Life was pain sometimes. Mei couldn't hang out, food was too far away, the delicious croissants Lunch Rush made ran out as far as you could see. Pain. Just pure pain.
And disappointment. When you walked away with your food in a bag, maybe to sit under a tree and enjoy some peace and quiet, you saw her. Midori sitting at a table you did not expect. At the same table where Ashido Mina, Denki Kaminari, Kirishima Eijirou and Hanta Sero sat at. Good people. Honest, good people about to get bitten by a snake. If she was there, then Bakugou decided—
"You. Sit."
Thinking about the boy somehow summoned him behind you. Food in hand and bored expression on his face, he passed you not without giving you a stink eye. Indeed, disappointment.
You shrugged, trying not to pay much attention to the pang in your heart as you moved forward, but a voice— his voice stopped you in your tracks.
"You. Get the fuck out of my face." His growl made everyone around him turn to watch, you being one of them. There was no excuse to what came next, no way to run away past it and dissappear. He nodded his head at you out of all people and pointed at the seat still occupied by Midori; her purple eyes big, shocked, running between your frame and the blond's.
Do you know what it felt to be put in the spotlight without warning? Well, congratulations because that was your life now.
"Ba—Bakugou-san?" Her voice, now highed up and meek followed, then a small scream as Bakugou slammed his food on the table. His friends sat there, wide-eyed, but made no attempt to interrupt.
"Did I fucking stutter, bitch? Or want me to turn into a rabid dog for fucking real?"
You choked on your own spit, bag of goodies about to drop on the floor once you saw her horrified face. She knew that he knew. And when her pale eyes, filled with sudden malice, act dropped, turned to you it's when you realized she figured out where he found out from.
Not like you cared, really, but the little shit that always had to poke out every time she was in the same room as you decided to finally show up, making you wave and send her a wink.
"I said MOVE!" now— that growl, raspy and filled with anger startled her. The orange juice in her hands spilled all over her uniform and woke her up from whatever delusion she was in. With zero time to reconsider, every belonging of hers was picked up with trembling hands and she ran away to her group of cockroaches.
A smile was already settled on your face; your brain was storing that whole interaction deep within, ready to bring it back up whenever you needed a good laugh.
Life was pain and disappointment, you say? No. Life was great. Or more importantly, Bakugou was. Not like he needed to know. But he was a decent guy as he proved—
"THE FUCK YOU STANDING THERE LIKE A DUMBASS?! I SAID SIT!" —to be a pain in the fucking ass and the bane of your existence.
You gave him a face then turned to walk away, even rushing more when you heard his chair screeching on the floor. The exit was so close, so near, freedom never felt this great, the sunlight kissing your skin giving you a new hope to live. But not for long because he grabbed your hand and started dragging you towards his table.
Your hand was in his hand and he was dragging you—
Your hand— his big, warm, a little bit sweaty hand—
How could you ruin such a beautiful moment? Eyes on you two, shocked, silence, his adorable red ears being the only thing you could see as he was completely in front of you, still dragging you towards his friends...
"Did you wait all lunchbreak yesterday to talk to me?" You collided into him as you finished the sentence, his way taller form stiffened so much you felt you single-handedly broke Bakugou Katsuki for good.
But when he turned... Oh, when he turned. Biggest deer-caught-in-the-headlights eyes you've ever seen on anyone, cheeks painted so red you almost melted in the spot, lips trembling as his head worked a thousand miles per second just to find a retort. And you prepared yourself for—
"NO, I FUCKING DIDN'T! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU FUCKING EXTRA? I'D NEVER WAIT FOR SOMEONE LIKE YO— ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME!" Mina's waving hand caught your attention and smiled at her. Your hand was still in his, gripped harshly as he still hasn't noticed it's still there.
"Hey! [L/N], long time no see!" She cheered, ignoring the living shit out of her screaming friend, like she's used to it.
"FUCKING LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU—"
"Hey, chill, dude. Now let go of my hand, I wanna talk to Ashido." You smiled sweetly, making extra effort to wave your linked hands arond until he finally noticed. He zapped his hand away so fast, like he's been bitten by a wild animal. Maybe even a rabid dog, if you will.
You couldn't ignore your own flustered state as you walked past him, giving him a one up, adding the absolute scandalized face he had into the back of your mind for safekeeping.
"Come sit with us!" The pinkette offered.
"Oh, hey, I know you! You're by Hatsume's workshop all the time!" Kirishima intervened with a surprised face that broke into a grin. "Nice to officially meet—"
"I fucking said." he appeared, sitting in front of you. "My name's Bakugou."
"Ok, dude, but I'm talking to someon—"
"BAKUGOU KATSUKI!" Could be heard from the stratosphere.
Tumblr media
Note: I just realized Midori means Green [ fucking duh ] but I'm not gonna change the name or her description. I think her parents fucking up her name was the start of many accidents leading into the Midori we all know and hate. Also, I know you understand. We all know a Midori in our lives. Much love.
Note 2: I keep editing it but tumblr dot com slash Install App on Phone fucks my editing and switches paragraphs all around! If you find any PLEASE tell me, I'd really appreciate it!!!
937 notes · View notes
btssavedmylifeblr · 3 years
Text
Tongue Tied (M)
Tumblr media
Genre: SMUT, fluff, crack, demon au (sort of), idol verse, established relationship au, pwp with a side of minor relationship angst
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Word Count:12k
Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex, orgasm denial, masturbation, squirting, sex toys, dirty talk, degradation, bladder desperation and brainwashing
A/N: So… this is porn. Apologies to everyone, especially Park Jimin. Blame my anons who goaded me into it. Love you all! Stay hydrated.
Jimin's tongue trails a warm circle around your erect nipple.
"Stop teasing," you groan, threading your fingers through his dark hair and tugging him closer to you.
Jimin obliges, spreading his tongue across the perky bud, sucking it into his mouth, massaging with his lips. Flames of arousal rush through you. His fingers move from your hip to your lower folds, dipping into you, checking how wet you are. He releases your breast and smirks, holding up his fingers to show you the translucent strings stretching between them. "So eager.”
He laves kisses across your throat. His tongue alternates between firm and soft, sucking just to the point of pain, then soothing it away. He moves downward, sliding you up the bed as he works his way toward your swollen center. Every place his tongue touches burns with desire.
Your core throbs as he draws closer and closer to it. Despite dating for six months, Jimin has never gone down on you. The place you most want his talented tongue is the one place it has never been. In the beginning of your relationship, you had assumed oral sex was something he had accidentally overlooked. But now it was starting to seem deliberate.
Jimin sucks a hard kiss onto your hip as he slips his finger back between your folds, spreading your arousal up to your clitoris. He draws a slow circle around the sensitive nub, laughing softly against your belly when you moan out loud.
The closer he gets, the more your desperation builds. You tighten your fingers in his hair to coax him farther down. He pushes your folds apart with his hand, bringing his face in close to inspect your swollen cunt, chuckling as it clenches. Your clit pulses as you wait for him to bring his mouth to it.
But then he's pulling away from you, sitting back on his heels. "I'm going to fuck you now.” He holds you open with one hand and strokes his dick with the other. You bite your lip to hide your disappointment and nod.
There's nothing disappointing about Jimin's dick though. He knows how to use it well. It's not until you're both sweaty, sated and lying in each other's arms that you remember your earlier disappointment.
"Jimin?" You trail a finger over his chest. "Can I ask you a question?"
He gives a soft murmur of assent as he presses a contented kiss to your forehead. His hand strokes lazily up and down your arm.
"Why do you never go down on me?"
His hand stops moving.
You press on. "I blow you all the time, but you never go down on me."
"I don't know.” He shifts underneath you, his eyes not meeting your gaze. "Just like other stuff better."
"Well, sure," you reply, kissing his chest. It had never been your favorite activity either, always making you a bit self-conscious. But it was quickly becoming the thing you most wanted, simply because he wouldn't let you have it. "But it's always fun to try new things."
He continues to duck your gaze as he unwraps his arm from you and scoots away from you over to his side of the bed.
Maybe he was insecure about this particular activity?  You slide in next to him and kiss his shoulder. "I bet you'd be really good at it.”
He shifts away from you again, frowning as you continue to chase him across the bed. "I just don't like it, okay?"
Your mouth falls open in shock. It’s such an un-Jimin-like reaction. He's always so generous with everything in your relationship.
"Why?" Did he have some terrible previous experience he didn't want to discuss? What kind of traumatic cunnilingus backstory would leave him this turned off?
"I don't know." He rolls over so his back is to you. "Can't you drop it?"
"No, I'm not going to drop it!" You sit up and nudge his shoulder. "Are you saying you'll never do it?"
He turns back over to face you, licking his lips. "Would you break up with me if I was?"
"What?"
"How big of a deal is it?"
"I don't know." It never occurred to you that you might face a relationship ultimatum over oral sex. You’re madly in love with Jimin. He’s the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. Surely that matters more than how much time he spends between your legs.  
"Is there something wrong with me?" you ask. Did you taste bad? Smell funky?
“No!" Jimin's eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no, it’s just...” He sits up, sighing as he leans back against the headboard. "I was waiting to tell you this until we'd been together a bit longer." He runs a hand through his hair as he gathers his thoughts.  
What secret has your boyfriend been keeping from you all this time? Does he have some weird STD that is only spread through oral? Is he allergic to vagina?
"My tongue is cursed." He rubs the back of his neck, sighing as if relieved of some terrible burden.
You laugh out loud. Of all the explanations you had concocted, none were as ludicrous as this.
"Don't laugh." Jimin frowns, kicking the bed.
"Your tongue is cursed?" It's impossible to not laugh when you say it out loud. "Like by a witch?"
"No, not by a witch, don't be absurd." He squirms and pulls his knees up to his chest. "I'm part demon."
You snort in laughter again. But Jimin looks so hurt by the sound that you bite your tongue.
"My great-grandfather on my father's side was a demon,” Jimin elaborates, staring down at his hands.
“Wait, are you serious?” You arch an eyebrow, afraid of appearing to actually believe him just for him to tease you.
Jimin groans in frustration, twisting the bedsheets in his hands. "I didn't believe my mom when she told me either. But it's true. My grandmother swore it was true."
"Let me get this straight." You sit up a bit straighter, eyeing him skeptically. "The reason you won't go down on me is that you are one-eighth demon, and your tongue is cursed."
He bites his lip and nods.
"Jimin, that's ridiculous."
His shoulders slump as he curls in on himself. You're still waiting for the "gotcha!" you think is coming, but he looks sad and embarrassed.
"Fine," you sigh, willing to hear him out. "What kind of demon?"
He picks his head up and licks his lips. "An incubus."
"Your great-grandfather devoured the souls of women through sex?"
Jimin shifts back and forth, rubbing his hands up and down his legs. "Grandma said he was very handsome."
Your boyfriend is very handsome too. But that doesn't mean he's part demon.
"He didn't hurt anyone." Jimin tries to defend his clearly fictional demon great-grandfather. "He just, you know, hooked up with a lot of women."
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "So which parts of you are demon then?"
"Just my tongue."
"Be serious."
"I am being serious! Look!" He sticks his tongue out as far as it will go. It's very long, reaching all the way to his chin. And it's pointy. But it seems to be a perfectly normal tongue.
"It doesn't look cursed to me."
"It's so long though," he mumbles, having difficulty pronouncing the words with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
"Yeah, but not like supernaturally long." You argue, leaning in closer to inspect the potentially cursed muscle. He wiggles it back and forth as if that will convince you there's something unusual about it. "What does that even mean, a cursed tongue?"
Jimin draws in a deep breath, as if about to reveal a deep, dark secret.
"Any girl that I get off with my tongue…“ He pauses for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes, “can never come again."
His proclamation hangs in the air of your bedroom, as he waits for you to gasp in shock. You raise an eyebrow instead. "Ever?"
"Except!" He holds up a finger. "On my tongue."
You can't hold back the laughter this time. "So is there some horde of perpetually horny women out there, dying to experience your tongue again?"
He shakes his head and chews on his lower lip. "I've never done it with anyone before." He begins twisting the bedsheets in his hands again. "I didn't want to risk it being true. My mom was really serious when she explained it."
"That's an awkward conversation to have with your mother."
Jimin finally laughs. "Yes, yes it was."
His change in demeanor brings you some relief. But it can't be true. There's no such thing as demons.
"You sure you're not making up excuses to not reciprocate?"
"I'm not making it up!" Jimin smacks the bed in emphasis. "I'm dying to go down on you!"
"You are?" Your earlier arousal knocks between your legs again.
"Yes!" He pushes his hair off his forehead. "Every time I get down there, all I want to do is suck on your needy little clit." Your core clenches and you squirm on the bed next to him. He eyes you up and down and smirks. "To make you fall apart with my tongue." He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close enough to whisper in your ear. "To be surrounded by you as you come on my face."
"Would it be so bad if we tried it?" you ask, squeezing your thighs together to cope with the tension building between them.
"You'd want that?" His eyes widen and he licks his lips in excitement. "Even if the curse is real?"
"Yes, I'd want that." He's so excited that you don't have the heart to tell him that there's no way the curse is real.
Jimin giggles with delight, gathering your hands into his. "You know I love you right?" He kisses each of your hands. "I love you so much."
"I love you too Jimin," you reply and he pulls you in for a long kiss. His reaction would make you think he'd asked you to marry him.
"We can't do it tonight though," he mutters, frowning. “I’m leaving tomorrow."
Shit. The boys are leaving for their world tour tomorrow. A fact that has slipped your mind in the whole your-boyfriend-might-be-a-demon discussion.
"What better way to say goodbye?" You whisper, leaning in and planting light kisses up and down his neck. You're not going to let some weird family legend stand in the way of your boyfriend getting you off one more time before he disappears for a month.
"You sure?" Jimin raises an eyebrow. "A month is a long time to go."
"I think I'll survive." You've dealt with Jimin's absences before. You don’t like them, but you can’t admit to him how much they bother you. And curses aren't real.
Jimin's whole attitude changes, a dangerous glimmer in his eye. "Yeah?" He kisses your neck as his hand sneaks down between your legs. You're still sensitive and wet and you flinch when he slips his fingers into you, your arms breaking out in goosebumps. "Is this where you want my tongue?" he teases as his index finger brushes against your clitoris.
"Jimin, please," you whine. He pulls his hand back, but you slide your hips forward, chasing after him. You've been waiting for months and all he wants to do is tease.  
"So needy..." The smirk on his lips and predatory gleam in his eyes have you almost believing he is a demon. "It's like you want to give me all your orgasms."
"Curses aren't real," you gasp as he sucks a long kiss into your neck.
"Maybe you don't care if it's real." He trails kisses downward. "Maybe you want me to claim all your pleasure for myself." It's embarrassing the way more arousal drips from you at the idea. "Maybe you want to be alone and desperate, unable to satisfy yourself without me."
It's probably your mind playing tricks on you, but his mouth feels hotter than usual. It burns everywhere he touches you. He pauses his trail downward to suck on your nipple and you arch your back to press into him further.
"I like that idea," he says, releasing your breast and continuing his burning trail downwards. "That no other man will ever be able to satisfy you." He slips his fingers back inside you and you moan. "No toy, no dick, not even your own fingers will be able to bring you relief." His tongue inches downward, interrupted by lingering kisses. Your core is so swollen with arousal, the ache inside you so desperate. He smiles as he curls two fingers upward, so slowly that your thighs begin to tremble. "Every single one of your orgasms will belong to me."
"Please, Jimin." You're going to lose your mind if he keeps teasing like this. You roll your hips against his hand, trying to get his fingers in deeper.
"Is that what you want?" he asks. His mouth is so close you can feel his warm breath on your sensitive swollen skin. "Do you want to give me all your orgasms?"
He looks so serious when he asks, it almost makes you believe. But curses and demons aren't real. It's just a game. A game you’re both enjoying.
"Yes," you whisper. "I want you to have them all, Jimin."
"Good girl." He closes his eyes and exhales, then finally - finally - brings his mouth to your clitoris.
The surge of heat on the swollen bud almost has you coming the moment he takes it into his mouth.
"Holy shit," you groan, rocking your hips upward.
"Easy..." Jimin soothes, placing a firm hand on your hips to hold you down. "I'll take care of you." Then he buries himself between your legs.
His tongue alternates hard and soft as it strokes your clit. Any reservations he had about this have disappeared with the way he relishes you. He slides his fingers inside you and pairs each stroke of his tongue with internal pressure from his fingers. You pulse with arousal inside and out. You wind your fingers through his soft hair and he groans a deep satisfied rumble.
"Please, please," you beg, tugging him against you as you get closer and closer to the edge.
"That's it." He pulls off one last time to catch his breath. "Let me have it." His thumb rolls slowly over your clit as he watches you from between your thighs. "Come for me. Be mine."
He dives back in, the pace of his fingers curling inside you matching the figure-eights his tongue weaves over your clitoris. Heat radiates from his tongue, burning and tingling, so pleasurable it's almost painful. Warmth spreads through you, flowing into you and flooding up your spine and down to your toes. You tug harder on his hair. The groan he releases sends vibrations throughout your core, pushing you over the edge.
"Fuck, Jimin, I'm coming," you gasp. Your muscles clench around his fingers and your hips rock against his face as waves of pleasure cascade through you. It lasts for an eternity as he keeps stroking you, perfectly in time to the rhythms inside you. He keeps at it until you finally whine and squirm away, everything becoming too much.
"That's my girl." He smiles as he places a soft kiss on your inner thigh and chuckles when your skin trembles in response.
Minutes pass as you recover your breath. Jimin's head is still between your legs, trailing soft kisses up and down your inner thigh. It tickles and you try to squirm away, but his grip on your hips is too tight.
"Jimin," you whine, wiggling beneath him.
He ignores you, trailing his wet fingers up and down your leg.
"You know," he says, resting his chin on your thigh. "If the curse is real..."
"The curse is not real, Jimin.”
"If the curse is real,” he talks over you, pinching your inner thigh and making you jump, “then that was your last orgasm for a month." He looks so pleased with himself, dark eyes full of mischief. Your skin tingles under his hungry gaze and you begin to heat up again. "Seems a shame to leave it at that."
"Jimin," you sigh. "I'm not sure I have another one in me tonight."
"Oh, come on." He dives back into you, bumping his nose into your clitoris and causing your whole body to jolt. "I can't leave you with just one." He nuzzles against you. "How will you manage?"
A slight pang of pain hits you that he’s going to be gone for so long. But you don’t want him to see it, so you play sarcastic. "I have a vibrator."
"You do?"
"How else do you think I deal with your touring schedule?"
"Dirty girl..." He nips playfully at your inner thigh. "Where is it?"
You blush. "Under the bed."
"What?" His eyes widen in surprise. He swings his head over the side of the bed, inspecting underneath it. "There's nothing but shoes down here," he says as he hangs upside-down searching for your vibrator.
"In the Adidas box." You hide your face behind your hands as he climbs off the bed.
"Look at you," he teases. "Hiding sex toys in shoeboxes. You are dirty." He laughs a delighted laugh when he opens the correct box and you curl in on yourself further. He climbs back on top of you, pulling your hands away from your face.
You laugh when you see him, a small bullet vibrator hanging by its cord from between his teeth.
"I want to see it," he says as he drops the vibrator into your hands. "Show me how you get yourself off, if I'm not around to do it."
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Two is kind of my max. I don't know if I can."
"I believe in you, sweetheart." Jimin sits back on his heels to watch you, keeping his hand on the controller connected to the vibrator in your hand.
Your heart beats faster as he stares at you. His semi-erect dick dangles between his spread knees.
"Go on," he encourages, turning the vibrator on.
You move the vibrator down between your legs. It makes a spluttering sound as it encounters your wet folds.
"Listen to that." Jimin smiles and scoots forward on his knees, licking his lips. "Listen to how wet you are. I bet you can come again."
The vibrator does feel good against your sensitive skin and watching him watch you fills you with an arousing mix of embarrassment and confidence. The pleasure builds quickly, everything still wound up from your previous orgasm.
He increases the speed on the vibrator. "Are you getting close?" he asks, his own erection rising as he watches you.
You groan and nod, rolling the vibrator in circles across your palm, grinding it into your clitoris. The sounds of the vibrator, the sloppy wetness of your arousal, and your panting breaths fill the room as Jimin waits to watch you come.
But the closer the edge of your pleasure gets, the more distracted you become. He's just sitting there waiting, with that smug grin on his face. What if you can't come? What if he thinks this stupid curse is real? You just came, it's perfectly reasonable that you might not be able to come again right now.
The further you get into your own head, the further your climax drifts away.
"It's not working, is it?" He strokes his now fully erect cock and wiggles his eyebrows. "Need some assistance?" He turns up the vibrations to their maximum setting.
The drive to come surges back as you press harder against yourself with the vibrator and watch him stroke himself. He shuffles forward on his knees, until his dick is right next to your face.
"Suck my cock," he urges, nudging your cheek with his erection. "Do a good job and I'll let you come."
You want to roll your eyes at the suggestion that he has any control over whether or not you come, but his erection is too tempting. You sit up slightly and draw him into your mouth.
"That's a good girl," he groans. "My desperate little cockslut."
He's so hard on your tongue. You let go of the vibrator to angle yourself better. He moans when you sink down so far that your nose bumps into his pubic bone.
"Fuck," he exhales and his hands tremble as he caresses your cheek. "You take it so well." He picks the vibrator back up from where you dropped it onto the bedspread and positions it back between your legs. You jolt and moan, sending vibrations through his dick. He threads his fingers into the hair at the back of your neck, easing you up and down his cock.
You hover at the edge of coming, so debauched and needy and desperate to please him. He rolls the vibrator faster around your clitoris and you're so close. "Can you come for me?" he whispers, stroking your hair. "I want to see you come with my cock in your mouth."
You groan and rock your hips back and forth against his hand, chasing the edge as he guides you up and down his dick. But you can't quite get there. Every time you reach the tipping point, his cock bumps into the back of your throat and you gag.
"You can't do it, can you?" he teases, pace increasing as he gets more and more excited. The vibrator drops to the bed as he uses both hands to grip the back of your head. "You're mine now. All your orgasms are mine," he chokes out as he loses control of himself and comes down your throat, holding you to him and forcing you to swallow his whole release.
His thighs tremble as he sinks down onto the bed. "I love you," he says, kissing your cheek. He folds his arms behind his head, closing his eyes and sighing happily. Your core aches, but Jimin looks like he’s about to fall asleep.
“Hey!” You poke him in the ribs. "You can't leave me like this."
He opens one eye and laughs. "You admitting that you need me?"
You pout, not wanting to admit anything, but really wanting to get off one last time before bed. He's leaving tomorrow. Just because you want him right now doesn't mean you're cursed.
"Please, Jimin." You nudge the vibrator back into his hand, core clenching again when he takes it from you. "Help me."
"Of course." He smiles and kisses you again, before scooting down the bed and positioning himself between your legs one last time.
"So wet and swollen," he teases, as he traces a finger up and down your labia, chuckling as it twitches.
"Quit teasing," you groan, smacking his hand in irritation.
"Yes, dear." He brings the buzzing vibrator back to your clitoris and your hips buck upward to meet him. You're so close to coming you cry out, reaching out for him and grabbing on to whatever you can reach. One hand grips his shoulder as the other tangles into his hair. "That's it," he murmurs. "Come for me."
His warm wet tongue slides in next to the vibrator and you shatter into a million pieces.
Your fragmented mind floats above you as you tense in pleasure, every muscle contracted as it all becomes too much. You sob as your third orgasm of the night is ripped from you. Jimin massages both the vibrator and his tongue against you, pulling every last drop of arousal from you.
You collapse into a pile of jelly. "Fuck," you breathe out. "That was amazing."
"Glad you enjoyed it." Jimin beams from between your legs, giving one small kiss to your pubic mound before sliding back up and cradling you in his arms. "Hope it was worth it," he mumbles, kissing your forehead as you close your eyes.
You nuzzle into his warm, muscular chest. It certainly seems worth it right now. But curses aren't real. It's the last thing you think before you fall into a deep satisfied sleep. Curses aren't real.
______
You roll over the next morning to find Jimin’s side of the bed empty. Running water in the bathroom tells you he’s already up and getting ready to leave.
There’s a tingle between your legs, an echo of the night before. Your legs and crotch are slick with a mix of saliva, arousal and sweat. It should be disgusting, but it makes you smile mischievously. Memories of last night replay in your mind as you slide your hand down between your legs and contemplate how you got so messy.
The bathroom door is closed. You wiggle over to Jimin’s side of the bed and pick up his phone. It’s 5:30 am. Do you have enough time to talk him into coming back to bed? Your core pulses and you run a teasing finger around it. It’s so sore that it almost hurts to touch it. Almost, but not quite enough to stop you. You miss the heat of his mouth, the possessive way he talked, his groans of pleasure as he consumed you.
“Jimin,” you call out, unable to wait for him any longer.
The running water stops. “Yeah?” he calls out, not opening the door.
“Are you almost done in there?”
“One second.” The water switches back on briefly before he shuts it off and opens the door.
Jimin is shirtless, patting his face dry with a towel. You lick your lips at the sight of him, the tingle between your legs escalating to full ache.  He’s dressed in only black slacks, hair wet and tousled from his shower. Your core pulses as you watch a drop of water from his hair drop onto his chest and trail down the muscular planes of his stomach.
His eyes rake over you, making you feel naked despite the covers. You pull your hand away from yourself, embarrassed. Your possibly demonic boyfriend smirks.
“Last night not enough for you?” He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, looking all too pleased with himself. “Greedy girl.”
You want to scoff at him, but your pussy clenches traitorously instead. His dark eyes burn even hotter, as if he knows.
He chuckles. “I’d offer to help you out, but I just washed my face.”
You roll your eyes and squirm under the covers. “There are other ways to help me.” You don’t need his tongue. His fingers or his cock would do just as nicely.
“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow as he walks over to his nightstand and picks up his phone. “I’ve only got ten minutes before the car arrives though.”
The pang of distress at his leaving returns. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
“I thought you could use the rest.” He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. “I didn’t want to wake you earlier than I had to.”
It feels especially hard to say goodbye today. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I bet you will,” he replies, striding across the room to fish a white button-down shirt from the closet, still smirking. “A month is a long time to go.”
“I like more about you than just the sex.” You cross your arms and pout. “Won’t you miss me?”
Jimin laughs brightly as he buttons up his shirt. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Of course, I’ll miss you.” He takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” It doesn’t feel like enough to convey how much you’re going to miss him. But you don’t want to be that needy girl who begs her boyfriend to stay.
He smiles and picks up your hands, lifting them to his lips and kissing the back of each. Then he pauses and sniffs. He can smell the arousal on your hand and you are mortified. His eyes flick back up to your blushing face and he cocks an eyebrow, pleased smirk on his lips. "You sure you don't want my assistance one last time?"
You clench your thighs together and squirm under his heated gaze. "I wouldn't want you to be late." You can always get yourself off after he leaves.
"Yeah," he replies, glancing at his watch. "I should get going." He cups your cheek in his palm, tilting your chin up to give him a kiss goodbye.
You pour all your unspoken longing into your last kiss. His mouth is warm, his lips soft, and when his tongue enters your mouth, your whole body breaks out in droplets of sweat. You thread your fingers into his damp hair, pulling him closer as you moan against his lips.
He laughs as he pulls away from you. "So needy," he teases, wiping his lips with his thumb. "I like it." You want to scoff at how patronizing he sounds, but then he places a soft kiss on your forehead. "Be good for me," he whispers and you can't help the whine you emit as he lets go of you.
What is the matter with you? You've always prided yourself on being a mature adult who was respectful of his schedule, not some hormonal teenager who can't live without her boyfriend. You must be horny. As soon as he leaves, you can solve that problem and go about your day as usual.
You watch Jimin leave, admiring the way the tight black pants show off his best assets. "Hurry back!” you call after him. He blows you a kiss, and then he's gone.
The moment he's gone, you feel colder and emptier. You slide back down under the covers, drawing them up over your shoulders, and sighing broken-heartedly. It's dramatic, but no one is around to see you, so you let yourself wallow for a moment.
The tingle between your legs recaptures your attention. You glance over to the nightstand where your vibrator waits. Your pelvic muscles twitch in excitement. You scoop the vibrator up and sneak it under the bed covers.
You take your time easing into your arousal. You're still sore and sensitive from last night, so you don't go straight for the maximum setting. You tease yourself slowly, like Jimin would. His kiss lingers on your lips. Your fingers miss his soft hair. The vibrator echoes the burning, tingling pleasure of his tongue.
Just as you reach your plateau, cranking the vibrator to the highest setting and settling in for the home stretch, your phone buzzes.
Today 10:35 am
Jimin: What are you doing?
You: Nothing...
Jimin: Nothing? You sure about that? You sure you're not fingering that needy clit right now?
You: I am doing no such thing.
Jimin: You've got the vibrator out then.
You: Fuck. How do you know that?
Jimin: You seemed pretty needy when I left. ;)
You: Where are you?
Jimin: Pulling into the airport.
You groan out loud. The idea of him texting you filth while surrounded by his members made you flush with heat. You ignore him for a moment as you ride the wave of pleasure that surges through you at the thought.
Jimin: You going to answer me?
You: I have the vibrator.
Jimin: Dirty girl... Did you cum?
You: No, not yet
Jimin: Can't get it done without me huh?
You: just taking my sweet time. thank you very much. curses aren't real
Jimin: prove me wrong then. cum for me
Your clitoris throbs as you lower the vibrator back to it, buzzing excitedly. The edge of your orgasm hangs just out of reach. You read back Jimin's command and press the vibrator harder against yourself, rocking your pelvis up and down. It's right there. You ride the edge for a moment, then breathe out and let yourself tip over.
Your whole body goes numb. All feeling disappears, as if you are floating in mid-air, all sense of time and place gone and you feel nothing. Your pelvic muscles contract rhythmically, as if you’re having an orgasm, but you can’t feel it. You feel nothing.
Blinding pain rips through you. The vibrator is a curling iron pressed to your clit. The sheets burn everywhere they touch you. You cry out in shock and fling the source of pain away from you. You tear the bedcovers off as the vibrator clatters into the dresser on the far side of the room.
What the fuck just happened? The pain disappears as quickly as it appeared and you are the same, cunt still pulsing with arousal. You lie in a pool of sweat, panting.
You look over at Jimin's message. Should you tell him what just happened? What if he thinks it's the curse?
You shake your head. No. Curses aren't real. It must all be in your head.
Today 10:42 am
You: did it
Jimin: really?
You feel a slight twinge of guilt as you lie to him.
You: really
Jimin: oh...
Is he disappointed? Did he want you to have an ancient demonic curse? He told you to come for him. You watch typing bubbles appear and disappear several times, but no messages come through. You feel overheated and overwhelmed. You get up out of the bed, ignoring the ache between your legs, deciding to have a cold shower instead.
Jimin: getting on the plane now
You: okay, have a safe flight! I love you! Call me when you land!
Jimin: yup, will do
No "I love you too"? Was he mad at you? Upset? You frown as you stand in your bathroom and watch his flight take off on the flight tracker app on your phone.
_____
It’s a long eleven hours as Jimin flies to Los Angeles. Every time you think about him, the slight tingle between your legs returns. You make the shower ten degrees colder to try to calm yourself down, but it provides only temporary relief. You are on edge and restless all day, but too afraid of the strange thing that happened this morning to try masturbating again.
By the time midnight rolls around, you are very tired and very frustrated. You should go to bed and talk to Jimin in the morning. But as you watch the plane get closer and closer to landing, you can’t fall asleep.
His plane lands and you wait for him to text you. Five minutes go by, then ten, with no message. You can’t take it anymore.
Today 12:18 am
You: Did you arrive safely?
Jimin: Just landed
You: Can you talk?
He’s only been gone half a day, but it already feels too long. You’re annoyed with yourself for feeling this needy.
Jimin: Not right now. Maybe in a couple of hours
You: I have to go to bed…
Jimin: You should go to bed then
You frown. Usually he would plead with you to wait a little longer, or ask if he could wake you up when he was free. You’ve had many whispered conversations at 4 am because it was the only time he could talk.
You can’t let on how much you already miss him though. You don’t want to be one of those girls who becomes a burden. This was the trade-off to dating an idol.
You: Okay, good night then
Jimin: good night
You frown at your phone again, before finally giving up and setting it down on the nightstand.
You stare at the dark ceiling of your bedroom wishing he was here with you, instead of halfway around the world. You roll over and hug the pillow next to you. It smells like him. It triggers a deep knock of the same arousal that’s been haunting you all day. Maybe it would help you sleep if you got some relief.
You slip your fingers down into your underwear and find yourself already wet. You trail your fingers through the sticky wetness curiously. You are not usually this wound up so quickly. It’s ridiculous that the smell of him alone can get you this excited.
You bury your face in his pillow and inhale again, amazed as you feel another burst of wetness gush from you. God, you miss him. How do you miss him this much when he’s been gone less than a day? His arms, his hands, his tongue, his lips are all you can think about.
You sigh softly as you trail a damp finger up around your eager clitoris. You close your eyes and imagine the hand belongs to Jimin instead. He’s here with you. His lips on yours, his hand curled into your hair, whispering how you belong to him.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers in your head. “Make yourself wet and desperate for me.” You groan as you pick up the pace of your hand. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”
“Jimin, please,” you plead into the silence of your empty bedroom.
The Jimin in your head laughs. “You know it’s hopeless right?” he teases, smirking at you in that self-satisfied way where he knows he has you exactly where he wants you. “Every one of your orgasms belongs to me.”
You feel the edge of pleasure begin to slip away. You speed up your hand and chase after it, but it’s no use. The pleasure fades aways and you are left numb, empty and wet.
“Told you I was cursed,” imaginary Jimin teases. You huff in frustration, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, and roll over away from the pillow that smells like him. You shut your eyes tight. Curses aren’t real.
_______
Your dreams are full of Jimin. Jimin’s hands, Jimin’s chest, Jimin’s tongue. Over and over, he teases you toward your climax in your sleep. Always pausing, always stopping before you get to your end. By the time you wake up in the morning, you are swollen and dripping with need.
Your alarm sounds. It’s Monday. Work starts in an hour. You reach down and confirm how wet you are, more wet than you have ever been before. Your thighs slide past each other, slick with arousal. You can’t go to work like this.
It’s time to break out the big guns.
You lean over the side of your bed and fish out the other shoebox. The one you couldn’t tell Jimin about. The one that contains your dildo. Sometimes the vibrator alone wasn’t enough. Sometimes you needed a bit more. Sometimes you needed to be filled.
“Won’t do any good,” imaginary Jimin whispers in your head. You ignore him.
You slide the toy through your folds, slicking it up with your excessive wetness. The sides of your entrance tingle with heat as you stroke over them.
“Imagine it’s me,” Jimin teases. The fake cock heats up in your hands and you can almost believe it's his.
“Please, fuck me, Jimin” you beg, even though Jimin is thousands of miles away.
“Would if I could, sweetheart,” he answers. You picture him running his tongue over his plush lower lip. “But that’s not what you really want.”
“No such thing as curses,” you urge as you slide the dildo into you. “Fuck…”
Being finally filled again scratches an itch you hadn’t been able to before. It’s a pleasure and a relief all at once. The toy slides in easily with how soaking wet you are.
You pull up some porn on your phone and prop it against a pillow before grabbing the vibrator. You’re done fucking around. You need to get off right now and then go to work.
The porn isn’t very interesting though. The only thing you want to think about is Jimin. You close your eyes, listening to the audio but picturing your boyfriend. It doesn’t take long before you feel the pleasure crescendo. You let out a sob. It’s happening, it’s finally happening. You aren’t cursed.
The phone rings.
“Fuck!” You throw the vibrator down in frustration.
It’s Jimin. If it were anyone else, you would let it go to voicemail. But you really want to hear his voice. You turn the vibrator off so he won’t hear it, but keep sliding the silicone cock in and out of you.
“Hey babe,” Jimin’s voice is a little raspy. “I thought I could catch you before work. What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” you lie, sliding the dildo further inside yourself and biting your lip to conceal a groan.
He chuckles. “Nothing?”
“Nothing. Getting ready for work.” You refuse to give him the satisfaction of admitting that you’re actually naked in bed, dripping for him. “What are you doing?”
“Finally made it to the hotel,” he groans. You can picture him stretching his arms over his head as he spreads himself across his big empty bed. “Was thinking about you. Thought you might be thinking of me.”
Does he know? How could he know? Does he have magical “knows when his girlfriend is horny” demon powers”?
Shit. No. Jimin is not a demon. There are no such things as demons.
“Did you just call for phone sex?” You want to sound irritated, but your pelvic muscles clench traitorously around the dildo.
“Can’t stop thinking about yesterday.” His voice gets lower and you can hear the slick sounds of his hand moving over his dick in the background. “You were so needy for me. I liked it.”
A sharp blade of anger slices through your fog of lust.
“Jimin.” You pull the dildo out of you, setting it to the side. “You can’t ignore me all day yesterday and then expect me to talk you off like nothing happened.”
“Aww, come on, we were so busy. I called you as soon as I got here,” he whines. “I’ll make sure you get off too.”
You aren’t sure he can. Not with his voice alone. You need him here with you. But you’re not going to admit that.
“I have to go to work.” You are rapidly running out of time.
“Don’t you miss me?” he asks. You can practically hear his pout through the phone.
“Do you miss me?” You want to know why he hadn’t called earlier, but you don’t want to seem too needy.
“Of course, I do, baby. I love you.”
The tension in you eases slightly. Maybe you had been making things up.
“Miss you so much,” he continues and you can hear the sounds of his jerking off pick up speed. “Miss that sweet little cunt.”
It’s just about sex. He doesn’t miss you, he just wants to get off. “I have to go Jimin.”
“What? No! Don’t go.”
“I’m going to be late for work.” You hang up on him, feeling a vindictive victory. Your core is still wet and aching, but your anger powers you long enough to get you up and into the shower.
______
One cold shower and a hot cup of coffee later and you are on your way to work.
The commute sucks. Your lingering arousal refuses to abate. Your mind dwells on Jimin. Sitting down on the subway has you springing to your feet as the train starts moving, vibrations from the rails threatening to have you soaking through your underwear. Memories of Jimin commanding you to orgasm echo through you as you fight to calm your breathing.
You haven’t heard from real Jimin since you hung up on him. He probably fell asleep.
At work, you shift uncomfortably at your desk. You try to answer some emails, but every few seconds your core pulses, forcing you to reposition yourself. Your clothes itch. Everything is too hot. You shrug off the cardigan that you usually need to cope with the building’s air conditioning system. But then you rush to put it back on when you notice how hard your nipples are, poking through your bra and shirt.
The only thing that can distract from the tingling all over you is the buzz of your phone.
Today 10:22 am
Jimin: I’m sorry :(
You: Go on…
Jimin: I’m sorry I ignored you. This whole thing has me a bit thrown off.
You: How so?
Jimin: I was just so sure that the curse was a real thing, you know? I felt pretty stupid that it wasn’t.
You bite your lip and shift uncomfortably in your seat, pressing your legs together. Should you tell him? No… curses aren’t real. You’re just missing your boyfriend. That’s okay.
You: It’s okay, Jimin. Thank you.
Jimin: Is it bad that I kind of wanted it to be real?
You: You did?
Jimin: Well, it’s pretty sexy right?
Sweat trails from your hairline down your neck.
You: I have to be able to live my life Jimin. Can’t be sitting around waiting for you.
Jimin: I’m sorry we’re gone so much.
Shit. Now you’ve made him feel bad for his work schedule, something you swore you’d never do.
You: It’s okay. I’ll be okay.
I’ll be okay. Curses aren’t real. I’ll be okay. Curses aren’t real.  
You repeat the mantra under your breath until you make it to the end of the work day.
_______
The rest of the work week passes in much the same way, days of jaw clenching and sweating until you can rush home and lie in bed with the vibrator. You edge over and over, afraid of the pain you experienced last time, until you pass out exhausted.
You manage to make it to Friday. There’s a big meeting at nine. Your whole office, crammed into one conference room. At least this way you have an excuse to linger at the edge of the meeting, rather than sit leaking all over an office chair. It’s the first time you’ve had to be around this many other people at once.
“Do you think they can tell?” demon Jimin whispers in your head. “Do they know how wet and desperate you are right now?”  
You teter at the edge of the room. You clench in horror as a drop of something begins running down the inside of your leg. You’re too far gone to tell if it is arousal or sweat.
A colleague next to you leans over to ask you a follow-up question on something your boss just said, but you cannot hear them over the buzzing in your head.  They look at you in confusion. “Are you alright?”
No, you are not alright. You’re becoming dumber with each passing moment. Sweat beads up on the back of your neck. You mutter something about not feeling well and run for the restroom.
You slam the door to the stall behind you, ripping off your cardigan and undoing several buttons of the blouse underneath. You can’t breathe. You need air. You need relief. You slip your hand underneath your skirt. Your fingers are cool against your burning core. It’s a relief to touch yourself again.
“God, you’re a mess.” Jimin whispers in your head. You want to cry from how humiliating this is. “Can you imagine if they knew what you were doing in here?”
“Jimin…” you plead, unable to stop yourself.
“Shhh… ” he chuckles. “Don’t let them hear you.”  
You bang your head back into the stall door in frustration. If you could just come, if you could just get five minutes of relief. Maybe the pain would be better, at least it would be a different sensation. You speed up your hand, chasing any form of relief.
“Such a dirty girl. Getting yourself off in the bathroom to the mere memory of me. What are we going to do with you?”  
Your fingers slurp through the slick leaking from you. The noises fill the small office bathroom. It’s disgusting and debauched and you can’t stop yourself.
“Listen to that.” Jimin whispers. “You’re so hopeless.”
Your orgasm dances tantalizingly near, but your hand is starting to cramp up.
“Don’t stop now.” Jimin urges. “Keep rubbing. That’s it. The more desperate you are, the more control I have.”
“Fuck…” you curse.
The bathroom door opens, noises of chatter and typing pouring in from the larger office. “Everything okay in there?”
Your face burns with humiliation and your back drips with sweat. “I’m okay!” you call out, even though you aren’t, not even a little.
You’ll never get relief here. It takes all your strength to pull your fingers away from your swollen cunt. Especially with Jimin whispering in your ear to keep touching yourself.
You adjust your skirt and rebutton your blouse as best you can.
“Sorry,” you mutter as you emerge from the stall, not looking at the colleague who has come to check on you. “Stomach bug.” You hope your excessive sweating sells the idea that you are actually ill.
“Go home!” your colleague insists, waving their hands at you. “Don’t be spreading your norovirus around here.”
“Yeah, yeah, I think that is a good idea.” You nod, rinsing off your hands and patting a damp cloth on your face.
Imaginary Jimin grins, his dark eyes burning in your mind’s eye at the idea of having you all to himself again. “I think that’s a good idea too.”  
_______
The first thing you do when you get back to your apartment is strip out of your clothes, leaving a trail of sweat-soaked clothing from your front door to the bedroom. You climb back into bed and grab the vibrator, hissing in relief as it clicks on, feeling like you can breathe for a moment.
“You know, you’re only going to make it worse.” Demon Jimin continues to taunt you. “The more you touch yourself, the more you’ll want me.”
“Please, Jimin, please,” you beg, even though there’s nothing your imaginary boyfriend can do for you.
“What will we do with you?” the demon smirks, tutting in mock disapproval. “Can’t even work a full day. How will you keep a job? I’ll have to take you everywhere with me, never too far away. My personal slut.”
“No, Jimin, please…” Everything hurts. Your folds are red and irritated. Your hand cramps from pressing the vibrator into you. But you can’t stop.
“It’s okay, my love. Keep rubbing yourself. Melt your brain away. Be mine. There’s nothing else you need to do. That’s my good girl.”
All conscious thought begins to slip from you. There is only aching burning need. Jimin’s voice echoes in your head, drowning out all your attempts to fight him.
“What an embarrassment you are. So wet and needy. Filthy girl. I won’t be able to take you anywhere. You’ll have to wait around my hotel room, begging me to take pity on you. My own horny little pet.”
Waves of desire roll through you, washing away any other aspirations. Just to be his. To be only his.
“Won’t that be easier? Nothing to worry about. No work, no chores. Your only job will be to stay wet and ready for me. And you’ll be so good at it. I’ll use you when I feel like it and only let you come once I’m satisfied. Every single orgasm will be mine.”
A groan rips from your throat, more animal than human. Tremors run up and down your spine.
“I’ll have to be careful not to let you come too often though,” Jimin teases. “I like you like this. All needy and desperate for me. Want to keep you like this. My brainless little fucktoy.”
You sob. He’s right. It’s all you’re good for now. Nothing but a shivering pile of desperation.
The only thing that saves you from drifting under the demon’s spell is the ring of your phone. Jimin is calling you. Real Jimin. Your only lifeline.
“Hello?” Your voice is raspy and parched. You click off the vibrator so he can’t hear it. But that only makes the need worse, so you replace it with your hand.
“Hello?” Jimin answers. “Are you sleeping?”
“No…” Should you be asleep? You have no idea what time it is.
“You sound weird.”
You switch the phone to speaker and rest it next to your head on the bed so he can’t hear your heavy breathing.  “I’m fine.”
“Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you all week.” He sounds a bit upset, and very far away.
You have no answer. No, things were not okay, but there was nothing he could do about it when he’s thousands of miles away.
“Beg him,” demon Jimin whispers. “Go on, beg him to let you come. It will be funny.”
“I can’t,” you mutter under your breath, groaning in frustration.
“What?” Jimin’s voice calls from the phone. “I can’t hear you. Are you still there?”
“I… I can’t do this right now Jimin.”
“Are you still at work?” His tone has shifted from upset to confused.
“No, no, I went home.”
“Are you sick?” Jimin asks through the phone. “Hello?”
A small sob bubbles its way up out of your throat.
“This conversation is boring,” the Jimin in your head insists. “Turn the vibrator back on.”
“I don’t have time for this right now, Jimin.”
“What are you doing?” Real Jimin sounds worried. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Go on,” the demon whispers. “Tell him you can’t come without him. Tell him you belong to him now. Tell him his pathetic excuse for a girlfriend can’t live without him.”
“Jimin please!” you cry out. “I can’t do it anymore, please!” Tears are rolling down your cheeks. “Please let me come.”
“What? Are you playing with yourself right now?” he asks, incredulous.
Somehow the vibrator has turned back on and you rock against it, even as you wish you could stop. “I can’t help it,” you sob. “I can’t stop Jimin. I can’t stop.” You’re useless and pathetic. He’s going to leave you and you’ll never get relief again. “I’m sorry. Please let me come.”
“You can come! You can come!” he shouts through the phone, but of course, that does nothing to help you.
“I can’t come without you!” you sob. “You were right. The curse is real.”
“Huh? But, but... at the airport, you said you did.”
You groan, still chasing relief that isn’t coming. “I lied, Jimin, I’m sorry.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. “Why would you lie to me?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. But it’s real and I can’t… I can’t do anything without you. You have to come back.”
“I can’t come back. We have a show tomorrow.”
“ He’s not going to help you.” The demon is still there, waiting for you.
“Please, Jimin, please come home.” you beg. “I need you.”
“This is my job. I can’t leave.”
“What about my job, Jimin? What about my life? You can’t leave me like this!”
“It’s only been a week! Can’t you deal with it for a little longer?”
“Fuck you Park Jimin! You did this to me!”
“You said it wasn’t real!”
“He’s useless,” demon Jimin begins to drown out your boyfriend. “Come back to me. Be mine.”
“I have to go Jimin.”
“No, don’t hang up. We can figure this out.”
“You can’t help me.” You hang up the phone and toss it back onto your nightstand.
“Good girl.” The demon hisses in satisfaction. “Let it all go. Let your mind go.” You cry, still rocking against the vibrator, searching for relief that isn’t coming.
______
Your mind slowly leaves you over the next few days. You can get a few minutes of clarity if you’re willing to push yourself all the way over the edge, the searing pain providing you with enough mental clearness to call in sick to work or order food. But every time you do, it leaves you with even less with even less mental clarity.
At some point, you stop keeping track of the days. You stop sleeping. You stop eating. Eventually, even getting out of bed becomes too much work.
The bed sheets are wet, a mixture of sweat and vaginal secretions. You need to pee.
“God, you’re disgusting.” Demon Jimin laughs in your head. “He’s never going to want you now. Wet yourself like the animal you are and be done with it.”
You whine, hiding your face beneath your pillow and trying to distract yourself with the vibrator from the growing need to urinate.
The phone rings. Jimin is calling. He’s been calling for days, but you can’t answer him. You can’t let him know what you’ve become. He’ll never want you again.
There’s a loud banging on your front door. Who could that be? You haven’t ordered any food in a while, not really sure how long.
“Ignore it,” the demon instructs. “Lie here in this bed and piss yourself.”  
You wrap the pillow around your head, unsure if you are trying to drown out the pounding on the door or the demon whispering in your ear.
“Open the door!” A loud, frantic voice carries through the door and you curl in on yourself. You don’t know who they are, but you can’t let them see. You can’t let them know. The pounding stops, followed by a loud thud that rattles the door on its hinges. “Goddamn it!” The voice shouts. Then, a softer voice calls through the door. “Baby, please open the door. Please, let me in.” It’s Jimin. Real Jimin. He’s here.
The overwhelming drive for him is the only thing that could propel you up and out of the bed. You’re shaky on your feet, a bit dizzy. The world is not entirely stable. But you manage to make it to the door and unlatch the lock before collapsing in a heap next to the entry.
For a second, there’s nothing. The door stays shut and you are worried that you hallucinated the whole thing. Of course he’s not here. He has more important things to be doing than dealing with his pathetic girlfriend.
But then the door bursts open.
“Babe?” Jimin calls for you as he steps into the apartment, kicking off his shoes. He’s wearing the same white dress shirt and black slacks that he left you in. Maybe he’s a figment of your imagination.
“Jimin…” You reach out for him, unable to believe he’s actually here, needing to feel whether or not he is solid.
“Shit.” His eyes widen as he finds you crumpled up and naked on the floor. “Are you okay?” He drops his overnight bag on the threshold and kneels in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. “Tell me what’s happening.”
You don’t know how to answer him. You don’t know what’s happening. But his fingertips are cool against your feverish, sweaty skin. He brushes the hair out of your face so he can look you in the eyes. You only know you need him.
“Jimin, I need you, please.” Your hands reach for him, searching for more of his skin to cool yourself against. You’re untucking his shirt from his pants and trying to undo his belt buckle, but he bats your hands away.
“Woah...” He grabs your hands to stop you as you battle him for his belt. “Babe, slow down, talk to me.”
He doesn’t want you. He’s repulsed by you. The demon was right. He’ll never touch you again. You’re worthless. You’re repulsive. You burst into tears. “Please, Jimin, please, I can’t,” you sob, nearly incomprehensible.
“Shh, shh...” He runs his hands over your shoulders. “Shh… it’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you.” He scoops you up into his arms and carries you down the hall, back toward your room. “I was so worried,” he says as he cradles you against him.
You can only respond by nuzzling your face into his chest, the cool cotton of his white shirt absorbing the heat from your skin.
“Your work called and said you haven’t been in since last week.” He kisses the top of your head and inhales the smell of your hair. “Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”
You ought to feel bad, but it was hard to feel too bad when you had what you finally wanted, Jimin back here with you.  
“I thought something terrible had happened to you.” He pauses at the door to the bathroom, waiting for an explanation.
“It’s the curse,” you whine, covering your face with your hands. “I’m cursed. You cursed me.”
“I’m so sorry.” He set you down on the toilet, before turning on the shower. “I didn’t know it would be like this.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead and turns to leave the bathroom.
You panic. Where is he going? He can’t leave you like this. “Jimin, no, don’t leave.” You chase him out of the bathroom, catching him around the middle and clinging to his waist. “You can’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving,” he chuckles, trying to unfasten your arms from around him, but you refuse to let go. “I was just getting undressed.” He sighs, picking you up once again and carrying you back to the bathroom. He tries to set you down again, but you whine, clinging to his neck.
Giving up, he steps directly into the shower, still dressed, cradling you in his arms. The white dress shirt turns translucent as the water hits it, clinging to his skin. The water runs down his torso and thighs and you groan with need. The water is warm, but it feels cool compared to how hot your skin is.
“Jimin, please.” You’re begging again. “I need you.”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here,” he answers. Your legs tremble underneath you as he puts you back on your feet.  He grabs the bottle of body wash and squirts out a generous dollop, lathering it up in his hands.  “I’m gonna take care of you.”
It’s all you can do to stay standing as he caresses you. He removes the shower head from its hook so he can follow each soapy caress with water to wash you clean.
He starts with your neck, then your breasts, then your stomach, gentle hands massaging over you. It only makes the ache for him worse.  He reaches the puffy and swollen labia and you gasp, legs trembling.
“Please, Jimin, please,” your endless chant of pleading begins again.
“Shh…. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He runs the showerhead over your aching core to rinse off the soap and your legs give out entirely. You collapse against the wall behind you, unable to support yourself.  Still dressed in his soaking wet clothes, he kneels in front of you. He spreads your legs, investigating your swollen folds with his soapy hands. Your clitoris throbs, hard and angry and red. You shiver as he runs the water stream over again. “Does it hurt?” he asks, watching your face as he strokes over your tender core with his fingertips.
“No, no,” you shake your head emphatically. “Not anymore.” The only pain now is the distance between you. “Please, please, please…”
He slides closer to you, brushing his dark wet hair back off his forehead and licking his lips. He picks up one of your legs and wraps it over his shoulder, then the other, carrying you on his shoulders as he buries his face in your core. You are so on edge, have been on edge for so long, that you’re already at the peak of your arousal the moment his tongue touches you.
Something monstrous is building inside you. A sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before moves through you as he moves his tongue in slow broad strokes over your clit. Flames of heat lick at your extremities, beginning in your fingertips and toes and spreading upward. Rising warmth builds in your belly as you ride his face, hips undulating in time with the bobbing of his head. Fear floods you as the memory of the searing pain returns from those moments you’ve gotten this close in the past. You tense up, gripping his shoulders tightly, afraid to let yourself tip over.
“It’s okay,” Jimin whispers, pausing for a second to admire you from between your thighs. “It’s okay to let go.” His warm wet tongue slides over your aching clit as his fingers penetrate you. A massive tremor rolls through you as all the pent of tension releases at once and you’re coming. Every muscle in your body seizes over and over as you grind against his face.
Rhythmic muscle contractions seize you as a rush of fluid shoots out of you, spraying Jimin right in the face. You’re screaming, but not from pain. There is no pain, only release, only relief.
“Woah.” Jimin gapes at you, your release dripping down his face and off his chin. Then he breaks into a huge smile. “That was amazing.”
You laugh out loud, relief washing over you. Your whole body turns to jello and you collapse into his lap.
“Thank goodness we were already in the shower,” he says, wiping his face with his hand and chuckling.
The two of you sit, holding on to each other under the stream of water, laughing. Finally, the mental fog begins to lift from your thoughts.
“How did you get here?” you ask, yawning as you do so.
“On a plane.” He laughs, nuzzling against your neck, arms wrapped around you.
You hit playfully on his chest, still covered in his soaking wet dress shirt. “You know what I mean, what about the tour?” You yawn again.
He mirrors your yawn, stretching his arms and groaning. “I have to go back in the morning. They managed to get me out of the press junkets for today by claiming I was sick, but I have to be back for the concert.”
“Do they know?” Your eyes are already closing as you lean against his warm firm torso.
“About the curse?” Jimin asks. “No…” he laughs. “No, I don’t think they’d let me leave if I told them it was because my girlfriend really needed to ride my face. I told them I had a family emergency.”
“I’m sorry, Jimin.”
He shakes his head. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” He turns your face toward him and kisses you. “It’s my fault. I never should have left you.”
You sigh, head resting on his shoulder. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He squeezes your hand where it is entwined with his in your lap. “But we’ll figure something out.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall, finger stroking your arm. “But right now we should get some sleep.”
He turns off the shower, stripping off his wet clothes and leaving them behind before scooping you up. Your head is floaty as he wraps you in a warm towel. You lean against the counter as he strips the sheets from the bed and replaces them with fresh ones, then comes back to lead you back to the bed. The two of you collapse into bed together and sleep overtakes you almost instantly.
______
Your dreams are full of Jimin again. Not teasing demon Jimin, but your warm loving boyfriend, stroking your hair and holding your hand.
You are surprised to wake up and find him watching you.
“I have a solution!” He chirps excitedly.
“You do?”
“Yes! Apparently the curse is in my saliva. So here!” He thrusts the bottle of lube from your nightstand into your hands. You look at it in confusion. “I spit in it!” he proudly declares.
“Um…” You hold the bottle at arm’s length. “Thank you?”
“This way, if I’ve been gone too long, you have a way to get off without me.”
“How do you know it will work?”
He laughs sheepishly. “I, uh, called my mom.”
“Ugh, no…” You hide your head under the covers in embarrassment. “What did you tell her?”
“It was an awkward conversation.” He laughs again. “But I couldn’t let you go through that again. She swears this will work.” He glances down at his watch. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to test it out with you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Think you can get it done before I get on my plane?”
“I suppose there’s one way to find out…”
Jimin disappears under the bed and returns with both your vibrator and dildo. “Better get going then,” he teases, before giving you one last kiss. “I’ll text you when I land. I love you.”
You stare at the assortment of sex toys and lube now spread out on your bed. “You’re just going to leave? I don’t have to go with you?”
“Do you want to go with me? I thought you had work.”
“Well, yeah, I mean, I do, but… I thought you were going to make me your personal sex slave.”
“Um, I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughs, then a more mischievous smirk spreads over his face. “Unless you want me to.”
You laugh in relief even as a lick of heat curls in your belly. “Perhaps that’s a game best left for when you are in town.”
He winks. “Looking forward to it.”
1K notes · View notes
leviiattacks · 3 years
Note
Head canons for mafia boss levi being interested in Starbucks barista reader please
Tumblr media
note :: this idea is so cute i wrote a scenario i hope you don’t mind. i can still post some headcanons for it too if you really want me to! i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted me to write anon :-( ALSO this is super casual writing it’s not like the way i usually write it’s just bullet points i mean idk i wanted to try something different and more relaxed lmk if this style is okay for some requests :D
if anyone would like any more requests with this levi please lmk!! i could go in more detail tbh maybe the pacing of this isn’t too good bc it is a short request but yeahhh
+ idk why the formatting looks so odd i tried my best to fix it myself ?!.!/!:£:& but yeah sorry again!!
levi has always been one to keep his business meetings lowkey
i mean, realistically who is going to suspect mafia boss levi is lingering in a starbucks???
the place is well-suited for his hushed meetings, he finds it to be quiet enough and clean enough
but then one winter everything changes
you start working there
he’s waiting in the queue texting erwin asking when he’ll be able to get there
it’s been a RUSH and the traffic is crazy as expected from the bustling city so he doesn’t expect to see erwin for a while
that’s when he hears you for the first time
“HEY!! Mister in the fancy suit it’s your turn to order”
your hands are placed on the counter and you lean forward eagerly waiting for what he has to say
levi rolls his eyes because he thinks you have to be ogling his designer watch and shoes (you really aren’t)
“black tea, no sugar and... a cinnamon swirl” he’ll order for erwin later. “i’ll be eating in.”
“ooohhh you’re a tea guy? name?” you’re smiling at him radiantly and it irks him because you have nothing to be smiling about really
eyes narrowing he responds “no shit, i just ordered tea.”
“and why the hell do you want my name?” he snaps on reflex
he then remembers he’s at a starbucks and you are not interrogating him, you’re doing your job
“sir... this is starbucks?? is this your first time here?”
you blink in confusion but then your face lights up “oh my, would you like to sign up for a starbucks card?? you can collect stars and get rewards and it’s so muc–“
“do i look like i need a starbucks card?”
“everyone looks like they need a starbucks card”
he doesn’t carry on that part of your conversation instead he looks you dead in the eyes “levi, is my name.”
his glare intimidates you and you awkwardly laugh
you think he’s probably having a super bad day and choose to not bother him that much
as he’s waiting he sees the way you clumsily navigate behind the counter, you’re juggling a number of things in your arms
automatically his face sours
he’s not expecting the tea you produce to be any good
he doesn’t care how nice you are if you can’t do what he wants he won’t be leaving a tip
he’s stingy like that
a clatter is heard and all the noise you’re making just makes you all the more aggravating
he’s been coming here for years and never has encountered a barista as bothersome as yourself
at some point you call out the name “SCROOGE!” from behind the counter, levi finds it embarrassing that anyone would ever call their child that
like... out of all the names this is what they choose??
damn they have to hate parenthood
“scrooge i’m begging you collect your drink.”
he looks up pissed that whoever this scrooge is has the audacity to hold you up because that by default means they are holding him up
then he sees you staring directly at him with that warm smile again
yeah, that smile, it could thaw ice
then it settles.
he’s scrooge?
turning around he notices no one is behind him then he sees that no one else is waiting apart from him
jaw clenching he heads towards you and makes it a point to “tsk” in frustration
he takes his cup and his cinnamon roll and you wave him goodbye
usually levi prefers to silently sit in the booth furthest from the action, he wants no attention drawn to him at all
but that day he finds himself sitting closer to the counter
he’s kind of stunned when he does that because he’s just sat there thinking why the hell did i just do that?? why did i sit here??
but he convinces himself it’s because he wants to see erwin when he’s about to walk in so he can prepare to scold him for not arriving on time
he takes a sip of his beverage expecting nothing above mediocirty but weirdly, your brew, it tastes perfect
levi’s eyes linger on you and he notices the way your behaviour is consistent
you’re helping an old woman pick what she’d like from the menu
you compliment her jumper, says it really makes her blue eyes stand out
you don’t have to be as nice as you are and it’s ticking him off
it ticks him off seeing someone so pure and sweet for no reason
when did people decide to not have ulterior motives anymore? did you decide those were too old school for you?
tongue poking at the inside of his cheek he activates his poker face and looks away
you, are a random person. a random, annoying person. he is going to stop thinking about you.
turning his attention to erwin instead he calls him and when he picks up levi makes his point very clear
“i was just called scrooge. get the hell here so i can order for you.”
erwin chuckles, his throaty laugh makes levi’s mouth twitch downwards in irritation
“and who exactly called you scrooge?”
“is that relevant?”
“very much so if you’ve mentioned it yourself”
levi is silent and erwin laughs once again at his colleagues anti social way of interacting
“i’ll be there in five, feel free to order.”
grunting a sound of approval levi hangs up
“you’re back! how may i help?”
the way you treat being a barista so seriously, he finds it oddly endearing
“one doubleshot iced coffee.”
nodding to yourself you hum a tune happily and get to work
Tumblr media
ever since that day levi finds himself frequenting that specific starbucks more
at first it’s a whole lot of “i’m pissed and i don’t have a reason so i’ll go down there and have her annoy me, then i’ll have a real reason”
then you talk to him more and you both engage in small talk
then it develops when he doesn’t mean for it to
you tell him about what you study, where you’re from, how your mother has recently developed arthritis but she’s still so determined to cook to the best of her abilities despite the pain
that reminds him of you
each visit he learns something new about you
sometimes he’ll let you in on his life
“what do you work as, i’ve always wondered?“
“accountant.“ no way in hell is he going to scare you away, telling you isn’t an option
you burst out in laughter holding your knees
“accountancy is well paying what is your point...?”
“do you not know what that means” your laugh is muffled as you press the sleeve of your jumper against your mouth
he shakes his head completely clueless
“people say their accountants when they’re actually strippers. it’s a tiktok thing.”
you pause for a second staring at his face
he feels the way his ears grow red under your gaze but he ignores it looking as bored as ever
“ah well. i did not know that.”
“clearly not you are an old man.”
then you turn away to brew his tea and he lets the ghost of a smile sneak its way onto his face
you aren’t looking, it’s okay
but he knows it’s dangerous getting attached to you
it’s stupid relaxing
and it’s even worse loosening up
so he doesn’t.
he’s always cold, bitter and frigid in his responses as he’s always been with you
but that doesn’t stop you from kindly smiling
or absentmindedly brushing the surface of his skin on rare occasions
it doesn’t stop you from calling him scrooge
and it certainly doesn’t stop you from slowly thawing the frosty exterior of his heart
then one day you let the words “my scrooge” slip out of your mouth
he doesn’t know why he let’s it happen or even how it happens exactly but he can’t help the smile that makes itself evident on his face
“HEY YOU JUST SMILED HELLO?????? you can do THAT????”
he smiled in front of you, that’s it he’s fucked
he quickly drops it and is back to his normal narrowed glare
“i did no such thing”
you give him a knowing look but sigh airily there’s no point in getting the man to admit it
“what would you like today, a frappe?”
you ask the sarcastic question even though you know he hates change. his usual order is already ingrained in your mind. you know it off by heart
he sighs in exasperation
“is your memory really that bad?”
“nope. cinnamon rolls and black tea it is!”
617 notes · View notes
windhamsrotunda · 3 years
Text
Roman Reigns - You Look Even Better Than The Photos (FULL PART)
KEY WORD(S) - R/N MEANS READER'S NAME LIKE YOUR NAME {Y/N}.
Tumblr media
Pairing(s): Roman Reigns x Female Reader!
Category: SMUT / NSFW
Summary / Theme: Roman is frustrated tonight, but the head of the table will get his frustration changed quick when he sees his girlfriend in the middle of the night.
Warnings: Explicit Language, Smut! | Angst! | Aggressive Dom! | 17+ READERS ONLY!
Word Count: 4,000k+
Tagging: @ringer04 @lghockey @saccreigns @ziasaph @ava-valerie @bayley-no-friends @blueberrycane21 @hungmanhorsecarriage @demonqueen29 @papireigns-05 @kingswitchblade @writtingrose @junglecassidy @riveliciousx @squirrel666 @enigmaticandunstable @flesheatinglette @kaileyjade and any others who wants to be tagged!
As he stepped into the luxurious shower of his bathroom, Roman cleansed himself with body wash. Scrubbing down those dead skin cells layered on his skin, the scent of strawberry and peppermint spewed the room. White fog sprays the whole bathroom, the temperature of the shower scolding hot. Roman’s fingertips stroked against his scalp, digging in deep roughly as the water from the pearly white shower head screamed down on him. A few minutes later spent in taking the shower head off the holder to wash himself down, Roman turned the knob to the shower off and grabbed a towel off the towel rack.
Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped his body like a grave digger wrapping a deceased human in soiled dirt. Shaking off the excess water from his hair, then he blow dried his masculine, black Samoan long hair. Setting the black blow dryer down, Roman stared at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, unrecognizable to see. He sprinted a hand through his hair quickly and got the remaining tangles out of his hair. Fingertips delicate like layers of daffodils overlapped over fields of fresh green grass. Eyebrows furrowed downward, he got dressed to head out to the real world.
Running out the door with keys in one hand grasped and phone in the other, the tribal chief headed towards his richened black Lamborghini car and got in. Turning the key to the ignition, he backed out of the driveway and put on GPS to go to his girlfriend’s house. Scuffing his face while driving, Roman glanced at his phone receiving a message from his girlfriend:  
Reader’s Name {R/N}: ‘’You coming to my party?’’  
Roman: ‘’Perhaps I will’’.  
Focusing on driving after the little text he received, he thought about her. He did not know she was having a party at 9:30pm at night; Although he got backhanded by her text, he thought it was just going to be him and her alone. No, he was pissed. She should’ve told him she was going to invite friends over. Arriving at her house at about 9:45pm, Roman kept his cool. Not making a ferocious scene, his girlfriend opened the door to where the house was filled with busy activity like bees in a beehive. ‘’Hey babe,’’ she greeted with her drink in her hand, going in for a grasped hug. The head of the table clamped his arm around her, fingers dug into her back. ‘’You okay?’’ she winced a tiny bit at his fingers digging into her back.
‘’Keep our business on the low-low,’’ Roman whispered, taking her hand into his.
‘’What...?’’ His girlfriend said slowly, walking into the crowd of different people she invited over. Approximately 30 people in the house, the music overpowered their conversation.
‘’Let’s go into another room,’’ He suggested to his girlfriend.  
‘’I want to hang out with my friends, though----’’ He cut her off abruptly.
‘’No, you’re staying with me whether you like it or not!’’ Roman boomed, his lips pressed together.
‘’I’m leaving.’’ She pushed her way through the tribal chief, he was left with a sour attitude. Crossing his arms pressed against his chest, Roman Reigns was not the man to mess around with tonight. He walked away from where he was standing on his own two feet and went around to find his cynical girlfriend.
‘’R/N!’’ He hollered through the buzzing music, his pupils large and filled with anger and hate. He now couldn’t find his girlfriend; his plans were ruined! A tall adult jock had bumped into Roman, spilling his drink onto his darkened clothing.  
‘’Oops,’’ He sarcastically said, as he went on his way. He scowled, Roman gritted his teeth to attempt from violently throwing the jock to the ground viciously. He moved on to keep searching for his girlfriend R/N in the crowd of people at her huge house.
‘’Have you seen her?’’ Roman’s eyebrows furrowed; his face heated up with angriness. He was about to explode if she didn’t come announced.
‘’No man, what I am assuming is she probably went outside,’’ One of R/N’s friends told him, pointing with one finger towards the slider door.  
‘’Thanks,’’ He scoffed, storming off to the white slider door, forcefully sliding it open and slamming it shut behind him. ‘’R/N!’’ his lungs shacked in his vocal cords; his eyes were an orange fire. Steam blowing off on the top of his head.  
‘’What do you want?’’ She turned her body frame to face Roman, there, she was sitting on a wooden log with her legs crossed next to a blazing campfire.  
‘’It’s you that I want to speak to!’’ He grunted, forcefully coming at her. ‘’They don’t call me the tribal chief for nothing,’’ Roman stated, as if he were giving a promo. R/N cocked her head up from her iPhone, setting it down.  
‘’Listen, sweetheart. I am sorry----’’ He cut her off with a firm ‘’You better be sorry,’’ look. Aggressiveness and dominance in his whole complexion, his shoulders laid back, his mean pissed off look meant something to her. In order to calm the Samoan man down, she had to actively spend time with him, and him only.
She was shaken by his aggressive tone, ‘’P-Please, if there is anything I can do to make this better.’’ She stuttered, her facial expression a sudden change from content into complete horror.
Roman pulled something out of his pocket, a familiar-looking object that was once his girlfriend’s.
‘’Remember this?’’ He asked, sly smirk curled upon his lips. R/N looked down at the bulky necklace hesitantly, she mouthed the words:
‘’Yes, yes I do.’’
‘’SPEAK TO ME!’’ Boomed Roman, his eyes poured into the soul of his girl which caught the attention from the other people inside. ‘’No, don’t look at them, look at me.’’ A small whimper came from her, she felt deep down inside she was being taken control over. She stood there motionlessly, arms stiffly by her sides. Not wanting to make eye contact at the head of the table, she cried quietly so he couldn’t hear her. ‘'Come on,’’ He urged, tugging away at her motionless arm stuck by her side. R/N was in mixed emotions as of yet, she didn’t know how to express herself towards her boyfriend. She had the courage to finally say this:
‘’R-Roman... I don’t feel comfortable, it’s just that—I need to go.’’  
He mimicked: ‘’I don’t feel comfortable. Why? Is it because I showed up unannounced and you decide to leave me after we didn’t spend time together in over 2 months? Is that what it is?’’ Before leaving, Roman realized his actions. How he affected her, she was left in tears. He needed to fix this or make this up to her. Being a heel was never an answer to solve for your problems. Especially his. The blazing campfire still lively, the heat pressed against Roman’s face from being so close to it, he had to sit down, think about what he did. Running a hand through his long, black hair, he had his arms clamped behind his back. Wanting the stormy rain that was about to arrive to take him alive. A huge lightning bolt struck across the gloomy sky; Roman wasn’t intimidated by this weather. All he wanted was R/N.
Back in the house, the party had seemed to die out. Besides, it was 11pm at night and it was storming. Everybody who attended her party had to scurry home to avoid from being caught by this hellions storm.
’Hey, you seem inconsolable. What happened?’’ R/N’s best friend asked in concern, stroking her shoulder.  
‘’My boyfriend,’’ Her shallow breath vocalized as she fought back her choked up bottled tears.  
‘’Oh, sweetie. Come here.’’ Her best friend pulled her into an embrace, telling her it would be okay and perhaps he will get over his hot-headedness. Roman, however, was still outside.
‘’Where is my boyfriend?’’ She asked out of nowhere, sensing he might be still outside, in which he was.
‘’He’s outside,’’ Her best friend explained, looking at the outside of the slider door. It was hard to see Roman outside, there was no glow in the orange, red fire. But her best friend knew for a fact he was outside. She scurried on her feet to open the slider door half open, she proclaimed:
‘’Roman! Come back inside!’’ He turned his head like a deer in the headlights, nodding in response. He got up from the log he was sitting upon and came back inside.
‘’I am so sorry...’’ R/N’s tears began to form in the creases of her e/c eyes, Roman’s hair was drenched from sitting in the pouring hard rain, almost shocked by a lightning bolt. He gave all his attention on her, but not her best friend. He wanted to be acknowledged. Walking up to her, he grazed his thumb across her jawline as her best friend watched.  
‘’Leave,’’ he muttered, eyes on her best friend. She backed away and left the house. It was now him and her. Roman took notes mentally of his girlfriend, how her posture was, and how heavy she was breathing. Skipping breaths, she took a step closer to her boyfriend Roman. The terrifying, once called baby face, she first met when he was considered a ‘’good guy’’.  He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling, then eyes back on r/n.  
‘’Roman....’’ She breathed; her eye contact was on point so she made sure he didn’t do anything hell-riding. She could feel his presence, how desiring he was not to say ‘’no’’ to.  
He grabbed a chair from the empty person kitchen, and straddled the chair.  
‘’Sit,’’ he firmly said, eyes furrowed this time. As she made her way to Roman, he lifted her body weight up and sat her on his lap. Legs stretched over at the end of the chair; r/n was surprised by a deepened kiss from her boyfriend Roman. He kissed her deeply, there they sat, in the chair the two of them comfortably. She straightened out her narrow spine to adjust in his lap, his fingertips touching her bare back. Her fixed gaze focused on the tribal chief; he could feel her heart beat rapidly pound in her chest. R/N was tensed up, he gave a question: ‘’Why are you so tense?’’
She blankly stared into his pupils, snapping a finger in front of her face, she unfocused on him and shook her head.  
‘’I said, why are you so tense?’’ This time with more aggressive tone, he chuckled lightly at the reaction she gave him. ‘’Now that you’re acknowledging me, I say I am your tribal chief.’’ He brushed up against her, he rubbed the nape of her neck, earning a slight whimper from his girlfriend r/n.  
‘’I-I am nervous,’’ she states, being completely honest with the head of the table rubbing the part of her neck where he touched her there. He laughed at her response; he crinkled his nose up.  
‘’You’re telling me, I’m making you nervous?’’ He cooed, his hand wrapped around her hair now. ‘’What if the blinds are open...?’’ r/n panicked, wondering if her best friend will come back and find her straddled on Roman’s lap.
‘’I’ll make damn sure they’re not.’' He growled, getting impatient with her. ‘’After all, you’re in the hands at the head of the table now.’’ She nodded slowly, finally acknowledging what he was telling her. It’s like she was deeply under his spell. Roman shifted his body weight facing the front of the chair, with r/n still on his lap. He got up quickly, scaring her for a second like he was about to drop her on the hardwood floors. '’Chill out,’’ he growled deeply, rolling his eyes. Tension grew between r/n and Roman as she hugged his leg. ‘’Off,’’ he demanded.
‘’Yes, tribal chief.’’ She stammered, crawling on her hands and knees now away from her boyfriend. The 6’3 Samoan man followed her to where she was going, perhaps to the upstairs basement. He smirked, watching her crawl up the stairs in awe as her bottom swayed in front of him. He grew with desire, wanting her. His veins throbbed in his neck, his bare chest from where he removed his shirt off bellowed up and down. Roman’s shoulders slugged back, basically enjoying himself. His girlfriend finally got up off the floor from army-crawling, walking normally towards the upstairs basement where she stored her necklaces and jewelry and other things in there. He followed right behind her, then closing the door to the basement and flipping on the light without any effort.
‘’God why you have to do this to me, baby girl?’’ Roman fingers tapped on his leg impatiently, waiting for some slight approval. She was getting rid of her shyness, then she placed her phone on her big wooden dresser stored in the basement where there was nothing on it. She gave the ‘’one second’’ finger gesture to him, and put on: ‘’The Hills – The Weeknd Slowed and Reverbed’’
INTRO:
Your man on the road, he doin' promo
You said, "Keep our business on the low-low"
I'm just tryna get you out the friend zone
'Cause you look even better than the photos.
This was r/n and Roman’s song to dance to, he blinked slowly while she swayed back and forth in front of him. The song slowed speed wasn’t any ordinary slowed verbed song to dance to, but it was meant to be in a romanticization way. He growled, she turned the volume up to drain his groans and growls of frustration. He took it out on her by slamming her on the dresser, she winced in pain as he grabbed her neck softly.  
‘’You’re going to be a good girl for the tribal chief, got it?’’ He firmly states, she nods in response, enjoying a little bit of pain produced in her body. She choked softly, crying out the words:
‘’Yes.’’
He lifted her up and set her down on the dresser top, he kissed her deeply enough to sweep her off her feet. Her garden was in heat, her face flushed bright red wanting the head of the table to take over her. Feeling extremely confident, she laid her shoulders down on the head of the surface of the dresser, body shifted upwards.
I only call you when it's half past five
The only time that I'll be by your side
She arches her head up, he kisses her neck gently, biting down earning a yelp from her. A bead of sweat pooled down the side of the face of Roman, his fingernails dug into both of r/n’s sides until she yelped more. Wincing at the pain again, he smacks her across the face.
‘’Who is your head of the table?’’ He asks her, smacking her again this time on the rim of her bottom before she could answer.
‘’Y-You.’’ She choked; teary eyes filled like a waterfall lasting for a lifetime.  
His lips curled into a smirk, her legs stretched and wrapped around his torso, r/n’s hair fell upon his tattooed chest, strands of hair touching delicately at the peak of his nips. The song continued to play through the speaker of her phone, he made fiery love to her on a cold wooden dresser, he was rough and quick; Roman’s body weight sprawled on top of her, wildly thrusting in her treasured garden as she cried out. Her acrylic nails dug deep into his flesh of his back, giving one last thrust his collapsible lungs screamed out: ‘’R/N!’’, spilling and pulling out of her.  
‘’Da-Damn.’’ He wheezes, a look of concern appears on the face of his girlfriend.
‘’You--- You okay?’’
‘’Now that I’ve got you to admire me, yes.’’ He chuckled darkly, breath all weakened out.
Attempting to stay in character, Roman’s chuckle switched over into a devious smirk. ‘’I’m not done with you, yet.’’
A look of surprise read all over the face of r/n, thinking mentally: ‘’Fucker.’’
She kissed him passionately, then pulling away to catch her breath. He twirled her hair with one finger,
‘’Pretty baby girl.’’ He spoke. She blushed in response, the dominant, Samoan man had her on her knees. He pushed her head towards his manhood, "I can see you're soaked for me? Huh?" He cooed once more, "You can release that anger out all on the chief anytime, baby girl."
R/n whined in response, like he was teasing her. Before diving her mouth onto his manhood, Roman reached down her garden, rewarding her by rubbing her folds softly.
"Mhhh!" He growled, yanking her head deeper by making her choke on him. "Good, that's it. Adknowledge me as your chief." She bobbed, her jaw getting sore from fucking him. "Ah-ah yeah...." Roman mouthed his girlfriend harder, releasing and pulling out again. His face looking like this:
Tumblr media
"God." His breath all weary, the tribal chief spent hourless sex with his girlfriend r/n, rough and dominant until his body collapsed onto her.
"Yes! Yes!" R/n exclaimed, the four walls echoing throughout the basement while she's getting pounded. Flesh hitting against flesh heard through the upstairs basement, Roman growled in her ear,
"You like when you're claimed by the chief!? HMM!?" He exclaimed back, slapping her rear end dominantly. Crying in response, she nodded.
"I-I love you----" Before finishing off her sentence, she passed out heavily in his arms. He strokes her hair with one hand, arm draped over the naked torso of his girlfriend r/n.
"That's how it's supposed to be," he whispered into his sleeping girlfriend's ear, leaving a hickey on her pale neck before getting changed and exiting her house. He left her a little note saying:
"Hope you had a fun time tonight. Love, Roman"
R/n woke up the next day, finding the note by her stomach. She picked it up, smiling softly to herself. "I'm the luckiest woman to be considered his girlfriend."
Roman was at home, he texted r/n:
Roman: Hey baby girl, I am sorry I gotten all dominant on you last night; it was to teach you a lesson and claim you're mine. You know, there will be consequences once you piss the head of the table off.
A buzz came from her phone, she read and text back.
R/n: No, it's okay honey. I love your dominant side; It's sexy as fuck on you anyway.
Roman: That's my girl.
A/N - Thank you for reading! Hoped you guys enjoyed!
320 notes · View notes
tsunderecookies · 3 years
Note
omg omg omg can u do horny hcs for dabi and shigaraki 😳😳
Horny Hc - 2
Pairing: Dabi x Reader, Shigaraki x Reader
Warnings: choking, being railed into the next dimension, spitting
A/N: Awwwww thank you for being my first requester nony <3 Here ya go, I hope you enjoy it bb! i’m so sorry that it took so fucking long but i just started working and it’s very hectic so I’m always either too unmotivated or too tired to write. But ig what matters is that I got it out lol. Dabi’s is a lot shorter than I’d like it to be but ima add on as time passes i think.
Tumblr media
Imma be honest here this man has a bomb ass sex playlist fr fr.
Like jesus christ. 
And I feel like even arranged the songs in a way so that as sex escalates so do the vibes the music gives off.
I don’t know why but i feel like Dabi has a tell tale sign when he wants to fuck. Like he walks into a room and he gives you that little smirk and kinda rests his head on his hand and lightly touching his thumb over his lower lip while looking you directly in your eyes and you just know.
He has dick piercings. Done. You can’t convince me otherwise.
Can also see him as the type to start kissing your neck randomly as you’re telling him about something and just giving little responses like mhm while you’re talking. He loves doing it because he loves seeing how flustered it makes you and he loves the sound of you struggling to speak even though he’s barely touching you.
With a sigh you close your eyes and lean your head back against the sofa as you tell Dabi about your day, hands tangled in his hair while his lips move against your neck. 
“ And work was a fucking drag as always. I just can’t wait for us to get out of here and - “ Within seconds your whole train of thought was lost as you felt dabi kiss against an especially sensitive spot. “ Mhm? “ You can feel the vibration from his chest as he hummed out his response, lips parting before he gently grazed his teeth against it. You let out a shallow breath and desperately try to swallow back the moan threatening to slip out from between your lips. He softly starts sucking while nipping in between as he moves lower towards your chest. His lips part from your skin while his hand slips underneath your shirt inching upwards slowly.
“ And what baby?” The amusement is clear in his voice as he speaks, his eyes slipping down to your lips and back up again as his hand stills right below your chest.
A small groan escapes your throat as your hand slips up his neck to the back of his head and grabbing a fist full of hair. 
“Oh fuck you.“ You push his head forward towards yours and your lips smash together, hungry and needy. You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he softly pushes you back so you can lay down before shifting so he was in between your legs, your complaints about work already long forgotten.
Dabi is also very open minded when it comes to sex. Like if you were to ask him if you could do some things to him through the backdoor he’d definitely try it at least once before deciding whether he properly likes it or not. You might have to buy him a few drinks beforehand though lmao.
I also feel like he is quite experienced in bed. I can definitely say with confidence that he most likely has had his fair share of one night stands in the past and he isn’t afraid to putt what he learned to good use.
Definitely both a masochist and a sadist.
Like he loves inflicting pain on you by like biting down on your lip to the point where it starts bleeding or maybe even knifeplay. But he also really loves the feeling of your nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood. To him it hurts so fucking good.
“ Oh my god yes Dabi. Fuck. “ You shamelessly moan out, clenched hands fisting the sheets as your boyfriend pounds into you. An especially hard thrust has your hands flying upwards towards his back, fingernails digging into his skin and dragging downwards with no restraint.
A sharp hiss leave his lips only to be followed by a low growl before his hips start pounding into you at an even harder and faster pace.
“ That’s right, you better fucking hold on princess.“
I feel like he’s the teasing type during aftercare. Like he’ll comment on how loud you were being with a giant smirk on his face or he’d imitate your moans now and then.
Omg also I can definitely see Dabi knowing exactly what each type of noise from you means. How your ,moans sound when you’re close or when you want it harder etc.
I mean when he pounds his baby so hard they can’t speak he needs other forms of communication lol.
Tumblr media
I'm gonna be honest here, I don't think that he's really experienced in the bedroom department.
Of course he's no stranger to the world of sex but most of the things he knows he definitely picked up either from overheard conversations at the bar or from the internet.
He never really minded not being sexually active, hell he barely even jerked off and probably wouldn't have if it weren't necessary. I feel like he most probably saw it as a chore.
But now that you're around his sex drive has doubled tenfold. Like in the beginning you had to beg to get him to do anything but now barely a day goes by where he doesn't indulge in your body.
That being said, don't underestimate his abilities in bed because this man is a fast learner.
He explores every inch of your body like unknown land, claiming you for himself.
He develops this need to make you cum every single time you're intimate. It's like a mission to him, and we all know how much he hates when things don't work out his way.
Speaking of things going his way, Tomura loves dominating you in bed. He loves being in charge and controlling where the night goes.
This being said, he loves taking you in missionary. He loves the way it gives him full access to your chest and neck and how he gets to stare into your pretty little eyes while he uses you as his cocksleeve.
Now and then when he's too tired he'll switch things up by letting you ride him. He loves gripping onto your hips while he thrusts up into them basically topping from the bottom, your chest on open display for him.
Even though he loves domming you he's too scared to try out any hard kinks in the beginning. The idea of choking you terrified him. What if something went wrong and he accidentally hurts you with his quirk? What if he kills you?
As your relationship progresses though, he becomes more confident with things like this. He finds comfort in the fact that you trust him enough to allow him to touch you like this, even thought you very well know what his quirk could do to your body and this becomes a very intimate thing for you.
Tomura is also possessive as fuck. If he sees a guy staring at you for even a second too long he's ready to throw hands. He will literately not hesitate to murder for you. And he has.
His friends have of course picked up on this and love to annoy him. Especially Dabi. He openly flirts and hits on you in front of Tomura to get a reaction out of him and no does he get one. It's as if he has a death wish.
It always results in him roughly fragile you away from the scarred man straight to your bedroom to remind you and everyone else what you belong to.
A choked cry leaves your throat as your boyfriend roughly bottoms out inside of you. He hardly even gives you time to adjust before starting his back breaking pace.
"A-ahh Tomura. Too much." Your voice comes out as a whine while you claw at your boyfriends back. He lifts his head from where he'd previously been sucking a hickey into your skin to give you a sickly grin.
"Oh yeah? But that scorched son of a bitch flirting with you wasn't?"
Shigaraki is a big fan of quickies. He especially loves them right before he has a big mission or meeting to attend. It gives him the opportunity to fuck out all the nerves and frustration beforehand.
Speaking of frustration. He definitely takes it out on you. When a mission goes wrong or fails? He fucks you. His team doesn't take him seriously? He fucks you.
Captain of head during videogames club.
I'm sorry to say this but I doubt that this man will give you lovey dovey aftercare.
Let's be honest, you take care of him on a daily basis, reminding him to eat and drink water and take a break when needed. And to moisturize. He barely knows how to care for himself, whats to say about you.
After sex you'd have to convince him to take a shower to get cleaned up and even more so to come to bed with you afterwards rather than play videogames or just passing out immediately afterwards.
The most love you can expect from him afterwards is some cuddles if he does agree to come to bed or he'd have you straddling him while gaming so you can still get your sought after attention. He'd press a kiss to your forehead now and then.
It may not be a lot to anyone else but you know that this is his own special way to let you know he cares for you and loves you.
193 notes · View notes
We Met Within This Screen (final chapter, pt. 2, the end.)
part one here
A/N: Thank you guys for all of your wonderful comments and the love sent my way for this fanfic. I've had a great time writing it despite its rocky moments. I really hope this ending does it justice; I've never gotten to write a proper conclusion to anything like this before. It's the first time I've ever completed a multi-chapter work such as this, so I'm happy. 🍾🥂 Here's to finishing what you start, and enjoy. :)
Tumblr media
Just shy of a half-hour later, he was finished telling the story. She had sat the both of them down on the couch, one on each end, and he explained in great detail everything leading up to current-day. Tales of the ooze, Mutagen, as he'd told her; the rat named Splinter, a man formerly known as Hamato Yoshi, who had fathered and trained them; and lastly, their mission. Be of service, protect the city; have a good heart. And Donnie most certainly had a good heart. He was not the outlandish figure she'd first saw and recognized him as. He was the guy she had come to know as Bo, Donatello, who was the same person she'd talked to this whole time. At some points of the retelling, he got excited to share some of their adventures. This came after their humble beginnings of struggling in the sewers. Donnie was happy to share after so long of dodging saying anything about his life. 
She nodded along to this talking. "...and that's how we're here," he said finally, putting his hands on his legs. "Since we're here, any questions?" 
She replied with a no, looking over at the TV that had remained on the entire time. Donnie stayed seated as she got up and got the remote, also glancing at the clock on the wall, which read 10:45 PM. She switched the TV off. Looks like it's time to go, he thought. He rose from the couch and fixed the pillow he'd displaced. 
"Donnie, this has been...strange," and for a split second, his face fell, "but not bad! Though, it is getting late." 
 "Oh, no—yeah, no, I understand," he sputtered bashfully, activating the staff which collapsed back into its smaller form. He tucked it away somewhere on him. 
For a moment, he simply stood there as if wanting to say something, but the words never found him. "So it's goodbye?" he asked quietly. The way he said it made it seem like he thought it was forever. But it was on until they figured out how to pick up where they left off after that night. Undoubtedly, things would be different going forward. He didn't know if that would be good or bad. 
"Only until next time," she told him, a small smile present. He visibly relaxed. "You're still my friend, Donatello."
He smiled. "I knew that. Totally."
Showing himself out, he stepped onto the balcony, looking back one last time before he bounded away. He held up his hand and gave a small wave. 
But she hadn't said bye yet, so he stuck around for a moment longer, though it was met with an awkward silence. He was beginning to go over the railing when she ran over to the door, stopping him. "Wait," she said, and he crawled back over the railing with a confused but curious expression. "I actually do have a question. Just one, before you go." 
"Sure," he said, inviting her to go on. She had to look up to see his face being so close. 
Tenderly, she asked, "Why'd you not tell me, after all that time? Would you have ever chosen to do this if it hadn't been for an accident?" 
Donnie couldn't give her an answer on that.
He sighed, slightly shaking his head. "I couldn't, [y/n]. We've been through this." 
"I only wanted you to trust me, Donnie," she responded. And that was, really, how she'd felt. Throughout their entire friendship, it had felt one-sided in that regard. Trusting but not trusted, but she hadn't any idea of what was truly going on, at the time. 
Donnie pondered her question: If there hadn't been some kind of divine intervention, would he have ever had the chance to have something more with her than words on a screen? 
He swallowed as she took a small step closer. 
"I just wanted you to care about me." His volume was barely above a whisper. He clenched his jaw briefly, as if he was concerned over his own words. His golden-brown eyes wandered from your eyes on downward. 
"I did—I do care about you, what makes you say that?" she questioned, puzzled. 
He vaguely gestured at his body, "Wouldn't this be a little hard grasp over text? Isn't it hard to accept even now?"
Though she didn't answer, he had a feeling that he was correct about one of those things—she did have to wrap her head around everything. Tentatively, both watched as her fingers brushed against his own. His hand moved along with hers, seeing and feeling the delicateness. Until they laced together as well as they could, her heart steady while his was beginning to race. His hand even trembled ever so slightly. He would have wanted to stay like that forever, had it not been for the fact that he was uncertain where they now stood. Where he stood in your eyes. What did this mean? 
Putting her other hand on his shoulder, she tried to conjure a smile. But it flickered out as she murmured, leaning into him, "Does this answer your question?" She had to stand on the tips of her toes, while his hand tightened in hers involuntarily, almost too shocked to bend down for what was coming. The one thing he hadn't accounted for in their meeting, not once—and it was happening. 
He seemed like he was going to stammer something, but her lips closed the gap and planted softly on his. 
There is no way.
There is no way this is happening—but I'm seeing it with my own eyes! 
Donnie lost all control the moment her lips pressed against his. His hand squeezed hers, shaking as his heart pounded in his chest. I'm shaking. Why am I shaking? 
His eyes which had been wide were now fluttering closed. For the better half of the kiss, every other thought beside the ones of her was ejected. He couldn't have pulled away, even if he'd wanted. He was hers completely. That was irrevocable.
It was only until she decided it was time to step back did they part, him looking at her entrancing face once more, and her swallowing heavily. That kiss had been something she'd dreamed of before. Never Knowing it would be held on the smooth, moist lips of a humanoid turtle, rather than those or a human man. In fact, she had to convince herself that she wasn't dreaming. Her hand slid down his shoulder and onto his chestplate. It was rough, almost possessing a grain under her fingertips. Her thumb rubbed the back of his hand. He thought he felt a tingle from the trail her fingers left. 
Donnie was on Cloud Nine for a solid minute before coming back to his senses. "That...I…" he struggled to find the words. For a brain that worked so fast, he felt utterly slow, then. 
She cracked a smile, face contorted into one of hope and a hint of embarrassment. "Is it too late to say that I've waited to do that for a while now?" she laughed. 
"N-no," he said, still trying to organize his thoughts. "No, it isn't."
"Okay, good," she replied with a relieved exhale. 
Her hand went from his chest to his arm, feeling the taut muscle as it traveled down. His hand enveloped hers while the other lifted, going to touch her cheek. "Does this mean…?" he trailed off. 
"It means I really, really like you, Donnie. I have since we played that game." 
He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb, "I really like you, too," he mimicked, voice soft. 
Maybe even that was an understatement. 
"I think I…" 
A noise nearby alerted him, and on instinct, he set her behind himself on defense. Don't be an attack now, of all times, he thought, listening closely. He told her to be quiet and to not say anything, using his forearm to gently push her back into the apartment. He pulled out his staff. 
"Sup dude and dudette!" an all too familiar voice beamed, the orange-banded turtle appearing hanging upside down from the balcony above. [Y/N] shrieked, and Donnie nearly bashed his brother in the head, sucking in a sharp breath as he accidentally backpedaled into her. Mikey waved and flashed a grin. "Don't worry, we didn't see anything...except for you two kissing, that was really unexpected!" He flipped down onto the balcony, and Donnie grumbled something, going in for a zap to his brother's plastron. Mikey dodged it, this time. Donnie tried again; unsuccessful. "Oop—saw that one coming," Mikey laughed, jovial. 
Donnie groaned, half-embarrassed and half-annoyed, "Mikey, what are you doing here?" 
Waltzing into her apartment, Mikey crossed his arms with a wink sent the human's way. "Michelangelo, wingman to the big special D right here," he introduced himself brightly, "but you can call me Mikey." 
Donnie slapped his hand to his flushed face, hoping that he was the only one who noticed Mikey's less-than-classy wording. 
"So you're all named after Renaissance painters?" asked [y/n], lifting a brow. 
Exhaling, Donnie stepped between them, "[Y/N], this is Mikey, my brother. The one that—" 
"Got you together!"
"—that got us into this predicament," he'd almost said, but he realized as Mikey said that, he owed their meeting all to him. It had all started with that talk they had had late that day, after patrol, and ended on her balcony, Donnie getting to experience a kiss for the first time. With someone he'd never imagined he would have ever been able to touch, let alone share something like that with. Yes, as much of a hassle everything up until that point had been, it was all thanks to Mikey. 
Donnie grinned, turning to his brother and draping his arm over the back of his shoulders. "Yeah, you did," he agreed. Mikey smiled as he looked down at him with fondness. He wrapped an arm around Donnie's shell in return. 
"You know it, brah. Oh, and I take cash or pi—" 
"Don't push it, younger bro." Donnie rolled his eyes. 
Waiiiiit a minute. 
Mumbling for [y/n] to hold that thought, Donnie, suspicious, crept over toward the balcony. "We"?
Mikey tried to make chatter with her while he did so, mentioning how he liked what she'd done with the place. 
He checked if the coast was clear first before leaning onto the railing on his shell, squinting his eyes. And he was not surprised at all to see Raph and Leo looking down at him from over the edge of the roof. Leo had his recognizable expression of: "You'd better wrap it up." Donnie drooped his shoulders and ducked back inside. Couldn't last forever, he thought. Despite whatever was waiting for him on the roof or at home, he could still smile on the day he'd had. He would be thinking about that kiss for weeks. 
"I guess it's bye for real this time," he told [y/n], sad to go what felt like so soon, but really was content. The night could not have gone better. "I have to, you know, go get flamed by my oldest brother. Probably."
"We'll be in touch, Donnie," she replied. "Um...text me when you get home? Just so I know you got there alright." 
Smiling, Donnie nodded. 
Mikey budded in, "Hey, don't forget about me here." 
Chuckling, Donnie headed for the door, taking Mikey but the upper arm along with him. They stopped one last time to waved to her before making their exit. 
Leo and Raph met the pair at the top. Raph was the first to speak, asking skeptically, "And yer sure this girl is alright?"
"Positive," Donnie answered with confidence. 
After a moment of trying to come up with some kind of remark, Raph let out a huff. "You got the nerve, I'll tell you that." He held out his fist ready for a bump, and when Donnie didn't immediately reciprocate, grumbled "Well? Don't leave me hangin', Don." Realizing what he wanted, Donnie went right in for the fist bump. 
Pulling away, Donnie asked, "So you're not mad?" He gave some space between himself and the incoming Leo. 
Raph scoffed lightly and shrugged. "I may not trust her, but I trust you," he responded, gruff as usual. "Just don't expect me to be all friendly and whatnot—I ain't doin' it." 
"You don't have to do anything, Raph." 
And then Donnie was face-to-face with Leo, who's intensely blue eyes were trained on him for a few seconds too long. Donnie wondered what he was thinking until he sighed, and then spoke. 
"I'm sorry." 
Behind Leo, Mikey was in awe.
"That's a new one," Raph chuffed. He left the circle to watch from the edge of the building. Mikey stuck around, but only far enough to be in ear shot. If something coming from Leo started off with a sincere "I'm sorry", he wouldn't miss it.
"Yes, you heard. I'm sorry," Leo admitted, bringing his eyes up from the ground. "I shouldn't have pressured you, Donnie. I know that you can handle yourself. I was just trying to protect you and our family," he explained, pausing to glance over at the other two brothers, "but…yeah. I'm sorry for pushing you, Don. I was kind of a jerk back there."
Deciding he didn't have any words good enough to say what he wanted to, Donnie simply pulled Leo in for half-hug, rocking him with him. Leo wore his lopsided smile as he gave Donnie's shell a slap. 
"That...was…" 
They stepped away from each other, staring at Mikey quizzically. 
"...beautiful, bros," he finished in a whisper. 
They stayed for a minute just watching the city go by, the clock ticking by later into the night. Donnie finally thought to ask Leo how Splinter was, because he definitely knew what was going down. He was a smart old man—and beside, Donnie had made no effort to pretend that wasn't what he was doing when he'd initially left. If Splinter knew, Splinter knew. He was still mildly afraid of Leo's response. 
"You want the truth?" Leo questioned, his expression briefly changing to one of a cringe. 
"I mean, I'd like to know what I'm in for," Donnie replied in an obvious manner. 
"He was angry, at first. Didn't know you left until he was done with his talk with Mikey. Also surprised that you actually went through with it. But, after that...he seemed like he understood, in a way, I guess. I didn't ask questions. You'll have to confront him about it yourself, because he just sent me and Raph out to get you." 
Donnie kept his eyes on the sidewalk below them, and the occasional person walking it. "And Mikey?" he asked, quizzical. 
"He insisted," Leo groaned. 
"You know I can't pass up an opportunity to see D get his first kiss!" 
"Oh, shut up, you had no idea that was gonna happen. You just wanted to go because me 'n Leo were goin'," Raph argued, flicking his head. "Weren't you supposed to stay in by Splinter's orders?" 
Mikey crossed his arms and turned away, "I don't have to take this abuse." He was, indeed, meant to stay behind. But the boy couldn't help himself. 
Once the banter died down, they were left contemplating whether they wanted to stay out a little longer, or if it was time to turn in. It had already been a long night, but in honesty, Donnie wasn't ready to go quite yet. He still felt as though he had so much to say to [y/n], but he supposed that time had already passed. At least until next time, if or when that was. Raph took a break from his lookout and sat next to Donnie with a grunt. He wasn't good with mush or sensitive things, but he felt compelled to ask "What're you gonna do now?" 
Donnie hummed in question.
"Well, she knows. And by the looks of things—erm—the look of one particular thing, you two are still goin' steady."
Ugh, they saw it. Donnie moaned, a cold flush coming over his face. I can't have anything private in this family.
Raph pushed him on his shoulder. "Ya shouldn't mack on someone by the doorway if ya don't wanna be seen," he jested.
"I don't know what's next, Raph," Donnie confessed. "We didn't exactly...make anything official after that."
Once they were back on the move towards home, they all dropped into the nearest manhole, but Donnie remained where he was, saying he would catch up to them. He was the fastest of the four, after all.
"I hope you're still awake," he mumbled to himself as he reached for his phone. They were close to home, anyway. And it was quiet. He typed:
"I'm almost home, [y/n]. All safe."
A couple of minutes later, she responded.
"Okay, that's good
Your brother is quite the character, by the way"
"He is who he is, lol"
"He seems nice though."
Walking down along the sewers, he took his time. What was a little longer after the night he'd had?
"Donnie, what were you going to say when Michelangelo interrupted us?"
He stopped in his tracks and thought, having nearly forgotten that he was going to actually say it. He didn't just like her—for the first time, he was sure he loved her.
"That I think I love you, [y/n]."
He regretted not saying it when he was with her, but he just couldn't wait.
There was a worrisome pause on her end in which he imagined she was staring at her screen thinking about how strong that came off, that it was uncalled for, that he was going too fast—
"I said I liked you
But that was not quite the truth
I love you, Donnie."
Golden-brown eyes sparkling, he let out a laugh, unable to contain his happiness, and the rest of the brothers smiled to themselves hearing the whoop of joy and excitement echo in the tunnel.
His adventure in love and friendship had started within a screen, but he was bound to it no longer. This was the opening of a new chapter in his life.
Tag list: @kokokatsworld @criminaly-supernatural @dianounais @spaceman-main @sheepdarkhours @raphaelsrightarm
265 notes · View notes
demonslayedher · 3 years
Note
I'm glad you reactivated the questions, here are some flowers for you: 💐 Seriously speaking I'm sorry that because of a question I asked you a few weeks ago you watched a series of videos of psychopaths 🥲It made me laugh at first but then I felt guilty 💔 it's all Muzan's fault for leaving us all with curiosity (imagine his parents' reaction once they realized there was something wrong with him even as a human)
Yay, flowers (which I shall kill with my black thumb)! And no, no, it’s fine, I had hoped it came off funny! I like listening to stuff like that while I draw anyway because I’m a nerd anyway and I found it very interesting.
Speaking of being a nerd, you have innocuously unlocked the following essay about Heian period nobility and wisteria flowers: There is nothing to state so in canon, but I find it highly reasonable to say Muzan might had been of the very powerful Fujiwara clan. Step inside my office, Anon.
Okay. So. The Heian period, simply put, was a time of cultural flourishing and beautiful pastimes, the origins of a lot of Japanese style aesthetics, and a romantic courtly like of romancing everybody else in the court. This is assuming, of course, that you were at the very, very, very, very top of society. Otherwise, the vast majority of people were poor and sick and starving and ew, in young Muzan’s world, we do not wish to associate with that. In the Heian court, Kyoto basically is the whole cultural world. Even though there were other cities that could rival Kyoto, the emperor was there, so it was essentially the cultural center of the country. The nobles who lived there got money from owning land in far-flung provinces, but actually having to live in those provinces? What a drag! Having to live away from Kyoto for work, even if it wasn’t an official banishment, often felt like a punishment to the nobles and their families who were used to the social scene at court. And, like affluent courts around the world throughout history, understanding all the intricacies of style and “Heian Rumors” was key to having social clout, and popularity was power. And yeah, nobles would be vicious to each other. While clan dynamics and history are complex and not something I’m getting into here (I don’t consider myself well-versed in it enough), the Fujiwara clan is a BIG DEAL.  Basically, in Heian times, children were typically raised in their mother’s home, thereby heavily influenced by their mother’s clan, so besides a young man’s parents, his in-laws also would had been hugely influential in his life, as they will have a long-felt influence on his progeny. The Emperors typically married Fujiwara daughters. This, in addition to other positions of influence of the Fujiwara clan members usually held with influence over the Emperor, means that politically, there was no messing with them. Now, just because I say Muzan might had been a Fujiwara clan member, I don’t necessarily mean a member of the main branch of the family. Often, due to inheritance management, different branches of various noble clans might be given different surnames. The Fujiwara clan does have different branches, some of which did go one to have close ties with the imperial family even after the fall of their power at the end of the Heian period and all the way through the Taisho, and some branches carry some impressive family legacies but otherwise live like normal or high-class common folk in modern-day. (I know one such Ojousama from a renamed Fujiwara branch; she’s a sweetheart and never brings it up herself but every time I hear other people say things about her family, I’m like, dang.) We can venture from Muzan’s likely expensive medical treatment, multiple marriages (meaning other clans sought to be connected with his family even by marrying their daughters to a sick man), and even preparation for cremation as a baby that he was of a very, very high status. 
Being the sick son of a prominent family may have warped his personality in multiple ways: first, he was probably already used to a culture of popularity equated political power. We see in Muzan’s dealings with humans in the Taisho period that he can be exceedingly charming to get what he wants (a psychopath trait, haha), so he was probably pretty aware of the complex ways of socialites in the court. But, even being aware of that, it probably frustrated him to no end that he was too sick to take part in the social pastimes where he’d gain clout. It’s also possible that he was a bit of a bargain husband for his wives’ families who were seeking to a make ties with his family, as they must not had been politically useful enough to be married off to other powerful matches. This may be some of why he was so ruthless to them, for he never saw them as useful to him in the first place. This probably got a bit worse once he became a demon. Now to be lewd, but he probably got more vigorous in his pursuit of more powerful lovers, and knew how to slay the women’s hearts as he liked (you know, popular Heian pastime, everybody had lots of lovers, it was the norm, though political marriages and legitimate children were still important). That new sense of power probably went to his head. But, ultimately, he must had been limited in clout since he couldn’t take part in any daytime activities, thereby limiting his access to more powerful spheres of influence. His reputation from having grown up sickly must had followed him too. It’s anyone’s guess how much affection his parents had for him and how happy they were about his health at first, and if and when they might had noticed his changes. He was a full-fledged adult by the time he turned into a demon, so who knows how closely they even associated with him. They likely had healthier children who they devoted more care and attention to, and invested more family resources in while assuming Muzan would probably die young.
Who knows what the final straw was in Muzan leaving court? Was it frustration at not being able to walk in daylight that made him flee to the Kanto area in pursuit of the blue spider lily (from near where the doctor lived) long before Kanto became politically affluent? Or was it the rumors at court about how he didn’t age, and that he was eating people?
Of note, a lot of the early legends of demons in Japanese culture take place in the Heian period.
In his book “Japanese History of Demon Slayers,” retired Shizuoka University professor Tetsuo Owada capitalized on the success of Kimetsu no Yaiba to dive into a lot of ties between the series and what it may pay homage to throughout Japanese history and culture. While this was published last September and a handful of his theories have been disproven by the second fanbook published last February, and while I think a lot of his theories are stretching a little too far to make strong connections, it’s still deeply, deeply interesting stuff. He goes into some specific comparisons of demons, like Minamoto-no-Raiko and his posse of four big bad warriors taking on the Tsuchigumo (giant spider demon) terrorizing the mountains north of Kyoto harkening to the case of Rui’s family (and, ding ding ding, this was the primary focus of the official Kabuki/Kimetsu crossover last November), as well as takes little questions left in canon and dives into them a bit deeper. One such question is, why were wisteria lethal to demons? According to Prof. Owada’s research, there is no historical basis for this. Some of the talk online is that: 1. Wisteria are in fact poisonous, and consuming too much of them would cause vomiting and diarrhea (though I’ve also seen people make jam out of them because of the fragrance, so, like???) 2. Beans are thrown around at Setsubun to ward off demons (like so, Feat. Muzan and Kimetsu Beans), and wisteria are of the bean family 3. Wisteria like sunlight, so perhaps like Nichirin, they soak up some of the sun’s properties that are lethal to demons 4. In the language of flowers (Hanakotoba), wisteria symbolize kindness, welcomeness, refusing to leave someone’s side, being drunk with love, being straightforward and truthful, not losing the humanity in one’s heart, thereby containing a lot of meaning contrary to the conduct of demons Interesting, but some of its kind of a stretch. While still finding it a stretch to apply it to wisteria being poisonous to demons, Prof. Owada goes on to say that since ancient times, while the wisteria has some negative connotations of how it was sometimes written with characters meaning “doesn’t heal” (不治) and growing downward with smaller and smaller flowers like symbolize the slow downfall of a family line, it conversely also carries positive connotations of longevity and flourishing family due to the fact that its vines grow upward.
Now, you might picked up at some point that the Japanese word for wisteria is “fuji.” Not to be confused with Mt. Fuji (that’s written differently), it IS the same fuji as in “Fujiwara”: 藤.
Prof. Owada goes on to explore the association with the use of Wisteria crests in Kimetsu no Yaiba, especially on the houses of supporters of the Demon Slayer Corp. His recurring thesis is that the pandemic is partly responsible for Kimetsu no Yaiba’s popularity since demon legends have long since had origins in epidemics, and he supposes the Wisteria crest has a protective effect on the houses, similar to a talisman used in a lot of real life rituals for warding off illness and then often displays in or on the entries of houses to protect the family every year (I have one such item gifted to me, it stays by my doorway, along with a couple sticks of charcoal (but the culture of charcoal is a post for some other day)). The talisman is in reference to a god of Hindu/Chinese origins being treated with hospitality by the So clan, so although other families perished in disaster/disease, he promised to always protect the So clan descendants, so the talisman says “Descendants of the So Clan” so that any household may try to claim that divine protection. The gratitude-exchange of hospitality and protection and sure sounds familiar! Prof. Owada isn’t done yet. While the crest design used in Kimetsu no Yaiba isn’t an actual family crest in in real life, there are lots and lots and lots of family crests that use a wisteria design and have the character for “wisteria” in the name. Any time you hear “—tou”, like Satou, Saitou, or even Gotou, you can typically assume it’s 藤. It’s very common nowadays, but the first family to be granted the use of this name was the Fujiwara clan, when one of the pre-Heian and very powerful emperors granted their clan head this surname, which was a major honor, and it marked the start of the Fujiwara clan’s political dominance (there was already influence leading up to this, but meh, we like clear-cut stuff to simply centuries of history, don’t we?). Furthermore, although we often think of the Fujiwara clan for their influence at court, and we might think of the Minamoto clan for warrior heroes who fought demons, Prof. Owada concludes his argument of wisteria’s protective influence by pointed out a long list of Heian period Fujiwara warriors who also were the heroes of demon slaying legends, stating that their name has also long been tied with demon slayer culture. SO!!! Let me go on with my theory here. Muzan is from the same family line as Ubuyashiki. At some point (I assume after Muzan is long gone from Kyoto), the family is told while their children keep dying, and they accept their mission to bring an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and clear this curse on their family line. My thought is that their ancestor was a full blood sibling of Muzan, one whom was more invested in than sickly Muzan. While perhaps already an off-shoot of the Fujiwara Clan and thereby not entitled to the same sorts of inheritance, they probably maintained close ties with them. But, as it was already not direct by that time, the other Fujiwara clan branches were not affected by this curse. To further spare the clan the effects of this curse, this was probably when that sickly branch took the name Ubuyashiki. (And yes, I have things to say about this name and its possible mythological origins which I find a highly, highly interesting connection. Prof. Owada supposes it is tied with Izumo Taisha Grand Shrine and that is why there are nine pillars, but as much as I love Izumo Taisha and its giant pillars I base my argument in separate Shinto (but also Izumo!) mythology and accept that there are not always supposed to be nine Pillars specifically and Gotouge simply chose that number based on the number of strokes in the kanji for ‘Hashira’ (柱) BUT I DIGRESS). So, the Ubuyashiki Clan is it’s own thing, but is sort of like a cousin to the other Fujiwara branches and thereby continues to enjoy Fujiwara support throughout the Heian period, like some of the Fujiwara warriors going out there and slaying some of Muzan’s early demon experiments, and using their influence to bring in other warriors to the demon slaying cause (pet
theory: Genpei War warrior Kumagai Naozane was a member of the proto-Corp and using Kasugai-garasu was in practice since at least late Heian period). While the Ubuyashiki Clan probably already their own inherited land (and funds that came from it), throughout their history, their cousin clans might also have provided financial support to the Ubuyashiki Clan. But, they probably distanced themselves from the clan due to the curse and not wanting to be tainted. When you bring back in the wisteria associations this puts the contrary associations with a flourishing and dying family line in a new light. Furthermore, the “not healing” way of writing “fuji” also means a lot more in the context of Muzan’s, and later the Ubuyashiki clan’s illness.
60 notes · View notes
Note
loving the angst!! can we get cygate for the oxygen loss prompt?
Absolutely! I think I'll just start doing one character or couple per ask for this one, because I always make it so long and drawn out! As usual, links to previous posts for this prompt are below!
Part One: Here!
Part Two: Here!
Part Three: Here!
Part Four: You're Here!
Part Five: Here!
Part Six: Here!
Part Seven: Here!
Part Eight: Here!
Part Nine: Here!
Part Ten: Here!
Part Eleven: Here!
Part Twelve: Here!
Cygate
(Cyclonus/Tailgate/Reader)
·As the three of you have become inseparable, you're once again spending the day together in your shared quarters, in a basket style cuddle position that has the massive Cyclonus lying half on his side, the smaller Tailgate cradled in a mirror position, and teeny you in the little basket shaped space between them. From the berth it's a perfect way to watch something on the monitor together, or to just spend a lazy afternoon napping and talking, or to simply enjoy each other's company. You would suppose that's probably why it's a favorite activity for the three of you, but you don't care to do much thinking from your safe and secure spot between the two bots you love more than anything.
·You were all on the verge of drifting off when the lights unexpectedly flicker, a not too worrisome sight, that is until a number of other things start to glitch and go offline. With communications amongst the downed systems, there's no way to find out what's going on from where you are, so to the disappointment of everyone involved you all three decide you'll have to do some investigating. Tailgate hugs you tight before preparing to do just that, playfully saying he wants just a few more minutes to cuddle, nuzzling his helm against your head as he buzzes sleepily. How can he resist? You're so soft!
·Thankfully both he and Cyclonus have developed some quick reflexes, as the sudden rumble that shakes the ship nearly sends all three of you to the floor, and between Tailgate's secure hold on you whilst Cyclonus stabilizes you both you're saved from falling and/or being squished. There's little time to celebrate though. Cyclonus recognizes the signs of an enemy ambush, and Tailgate quickly puts together the system glitches as being related, meaning that you're all facing some serious trouble. Particularly the very squishy you.
·Cyclonus is armed in seconds, his demeanor one of focused contemplation as he tries to strategize despite a total lack of reconnaissance. Tailgate, still holding you, jumps in with confirmation that you have to be taken somewhere safe! The two of them will have to aid the defense, but you can't be left alone, so they'll need to find somewhere secure and guarded by lots of bots. Thankfully Cyclonus has an immediate solution; the medical bay. It has guards assigned to it in the event of an occasion like this, it's certainly fortified, and you'll be more than safe while they hold off enemy combatants.
·You never want to be left behind, but you concede that it's the logical choice, especially because you know Tailgate will refuse to hear any arguments against it. With your plan settled on, a path is decided next to save as much time as possible. Tailgate begins to buzz with worry as Cyclonus lays out the many potential ambush sites and choke points they need to avoid. Though he's the one holding you protectively, you give the minibot a gentle pat on his Autobrand, knowing very little of his anxiety is for his own wellbeing. The buzz of worry is starting to make your hair go static though...
·Cyclonus breaks his resolute guardian persona for a single instant once the path is decided upon, dropping to one knee so he can be closer to both of his much tinier partners. He looks to Tailgate and then you, reaching out with a clawed hand to gently cup your tiny face with a precision he's honed well these past few months. There's a single moment where all three of you seem to make the same wordless vow; I won't let anything happen to you. You're briefly hugged between the two of them to drive the point home, and when they part you see that between those two red optics and a bright blue visor there's enough dedication to make you certain they'd take on a Titan for you.
·You can't help but feed off their on edge energy when your room is left behind, though you have plenty of your own anxiety to keep you company. Nothing is responding, not even comms, so you're all running totally blind beyond what's right in front of you. There could be a full battalion of soldiers barreling your way, and you wouldn't know... Only being with the two bots you love more than anything keeps you calm. Tailgate isn't holding you especially tight, but there's an unrestrained kind of daring in his visor as it scans the hallways, like he's challenging anyone to just try and get to you. Cyclonus is similiarly inclined, but in his own way, the occasional glance of his optics in your direction so subtle each incidence could be mistaken for a trick of the light.
·It shouldn't have surprised you when there was trouble before the three of you had even passed the station of terminals about a third of the way to your goal. In fairness, they'd emerged from a hallway looking almost shocked to see a towering Cyclonus and a tiny Tailgate cradling you, so the group of hostile aliens obviously hadn't been expecting any resistance in this area either. You hadn't needed to prepare any defense of your own once their bullets started flying, as you'd been expertly tucked behind a corner by the minibot just as a greatsword had started lopping off limbs. With an emphatic "please stay!!" in your direction, Tailgate is right in the fray with his hubby.
·It's hard to think of danger while watching these two tear it to shreds. Their enemies are massive, hulking aliens armed for an invasion but they don't stand a chance against your partners, both of whom fight as if these brutes threatened you directly, which they likely would have if given the chance. Between the great arcs of a deadly blade and the powerful blows of two blurry fists, you can't help but be confident this won't be that long of a delay... You're a little giddy but not all too concerned about it when the universe decides to call you to task, something it seems to enjoy doing in moments set up for great irony.
·The alien that appeared so suddenly beside you could have killed you with its lazy swipe, but thankfully you're only sent sprawling in the hallway, your survival instincts kicking into overdrive once they realize the situation. You're overwhelmed by the urge to run, but your legs become more of a hindrance to this end than an aid. They're like sticks of lead beneath your teetering body, and you find yourself taking great gasps of air just to keep moving, unable to make yourself flee or feel as concerned about that fact as you should be. Something like a growl and a taunting chuckle comes just as the shadow you're certain will crush you comes barreling downwards.
·Death doesn't come. Not for you, anyway. There's a blur of purple and then you're just able to make out Cyclonus grappling with an equally titanic lifeform, the latter of whom struggles especially savagely, likely because they've been impaled on the former's horns and are certainly not about to be set free. Cyclonus is making the most of that fact, twisting and tearing with raw strength to punish his enemy for his transgressions against his tiny partner. Tailgate is right behind him, helping to ensure the little body he watched go tumbling is alright before moving you a safe distance with words of comfort. He doesn't wait for a reply before turning on the spot and hurling himself into the fray. Tiny fists deliver superpowered punches on his helpless target, and in his defensive rage he can't help but shout at the colossal bully for picking on someone so absolutely harmless to him, but he and Cyclonus leave little chance for a rebuttal.
·There's not much left of your attacker by the time you finally manage to get your legs beneath your body, save for the not insignificant bruises they gave you. Said injury hardly explains why you're incapacitated to this extent though; you're dizzy, shaking, out of breath, and your entire body feels heavy as could be. Before you can question the issue further, you're scooped up into frantic arms, your whole world turning blue and white with shades of purple as you're embraced with a high pitched exclamation of relief. Only your lack of enthusiasm gets the little mech to stop, and as you take hold of your spinning head the two faces looking down on you twist with worry.
·Cyclonus acts first, hurrying to the few still operating terminals and trying to see if he can get a systems report up, hoping that any kind of additional information might assist them. Just knowing where more enemies are could make sure you receive obviously critical medical attention sooner. Tailgate tries to get you talking; did that alien hurt you? If so, what hurts and where and how can they help? You try to answer, but it's getting rather difficult to take this seriously, especially while you're so carefully and securely cradled. Not even a small sound of concern from Cyclonus of all bots can get you to wake up completely.
·The next thing you know everything is in motion again. There's an explanation about atmospheric generators being offline and air being dumped from the ship, and a bit of panic regarding the speed at which oxygen concentration is dropping, then something about the medical bay having a storage of elemental oxygen... Truthfully, it's a little hard to follow with everything else going on. You can't help but be a little thankful though, how many people had two loving partners ready to tear aliens apart in their defense? It had taken so much for them to come together, and in addition to that miracle, they'd welcomed you into their sparks for the happiest days of your life... you couldn't believe your fortune sometimes.
·Tailgate is the one you can see most clearly for a time, his visor bright with panic and fear in a way you don't think you've seen before. There's very little time to think on it when suddenly he's being carried too, and you see Cyclonus come into view as he runs down the halls with Tailgate in his arms and you in his, the giant bot moving with such speed that you can feel air whistling past to stir your hair. It would have felt nice if not for the tears beginning to leak from your smaller partner's visor, and as you notice those you also begin to hear his faint encouragement for you to stay awake, his gentle voice breaking as obvious worry tears at his spark.
·Above all else you want to reassure him that you are awake! Seeing him upset just breaks your heart, so despite everything you're obviously willing to try, and that feeling doubles when you spare Cyclonus a glance and see fear in his optics. The sight makes little sense to you, especially with his bloodied horns making it clear that he shouldn't fear anything. Still, you try to stay awake for them both, but it's the hardest thing you've ever done. Between the bruise on your side and the creeping exhaustion you want nothing more than to sleep. Only the buzzing of a panicking minibot keeps you from slipping away now, but as the need grows you doubt it will be sufficient for long.
·A gentle servo cups your cheek to keep you looking upwards, and you grasp it on reflex. A warm and painless darkness is closing in on all sides, and you know sooner or later it will overpower you. All you can do is try to convey how sorry you are to those two worried faces you love so much, even if you don't really understand why you need to stay awake still. You never want to let them down. They're your everything, and you theirs, which is what makes you feel so guilty when your eyes finally close.
·Tailgate is on the verge of a panic attack when the little form he's cradling goes limp in his arms. He can still see breathing, but it's haggard and uneven, and he knows that's bad. All he can do is hold them tighter and pray as Cyclonus crosses the ship in what has to be record time, and though he says nothing the large mech is similiarly fraught with dread, his spark threatening to burn at the grief looming over him. He fought so hard to be with Tailgate, then the universe blessed them with you... would they truly be forced to suffer this loss together, so soon after receiving?
·The bots in the medical bay clear out fast when they see who's inbound, but thankfully the medics are quick even in the midst of a host of injuries, though the lack of communication has made everything chaotic to say the least. All they need to hear is "oxygen" and they're moving, commanding you to be laid on a berth while the necessary components are fetched, and the two fraught mechs are laying you down as commanded. Somehow the sight of you laying unconscious in the medical bay strikes both mechs in the spark, as if your little body on the gigantic slab just seems wrong. Cyclonus only holds his softly weeping partner as you're stabilized, and neither is much motivated to leave even when the battle is declared victorious, their intertwined fingers staying firmly together as they keep watch.
·You awaken to a gentle digit stroking your face, and just as you open your eyes there's movement and a familiar shade of blue fills your vision. Tears of relief from Tailgate patter against the medical bay in your private room, and so much comes flooding back when you realize there's an oxygen mask attached to your face, and that you're still more than a little sore. Cyclonus is softly asking if there's anything you need whilst Tailgate fusses over your blankets, and when you start to fully awaken you realize their residual fear is still holding on. Guiding their hands to you, it's hard not to shed a tear as you hear weak whispers of confessed fear, with both expressing the pain almost losing you made them face. You can only thank them for what they've done, and this spurs them both to reassure you it was worth every moment of struggle, just as love has always been. This odd but wonderful love the three of you share is proof of that every single day.
230 notes · View notes
leftonraed · 3 years
Text
The Night We Met - Episode 6
Tumblr media
pairing : Taehyung x OC   genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au   word count : 4.1k summary — It doesn’t look good for Taehyung and his niece when his brother’s in-laws come visit them. Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 
“I told you you didn’t have to stay home today,” you hear Taehyung tell you when he comes out of the bathroom. “I don’t want to ruin your week when I don’t have to go anywhere.”
He pauses in the entrance corridor where you’re standing almost at attention. You look up at him and can feel some uneasiness on his behalf when you don’t move an inch.
You speak calmly. “You’re not ruining anything.”
He frowns,powerless and opens his mouth without really knowing what to say back. He slowly walks away in the kitchen.
“Want me to make you something?”
You shake your head. Seeing him confused and trying to find some meaning behind your attitude is somewhat amusing.  
He pauses again.
“Come sit with me… I’m barely awake but you’re stressing me out.” You indulge him. He frowns to himself, “don’t make me order you.”
You sit at the end of the couch. “Thought you’d like it...”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
You both hear Hina toddling out of her room. Her usual toothy grin is absent this morning and it immediately thought-provokes you both.
She doesn’t look up at you but stops a short moment to hug your knees as a compensation. You watch her shuffle her way between Taehyung’s legs with a pouty face.
“Morning sweetheart. You okay?” He cranes his neck down to get a look at her face pulled back downward. “What’s wrong? Feeling sick?”
Your eyes show little worry.
“You tummy hurt?” He asks again when she rubs her stomach. She nods a little, turns around and lifts her arms to have him hug her. He traps his slice of bread in his mouth, rubs his hand and picks her up on his lap. “Want this banana? It’ll make you feel better.”
She accepts to be fed with little zeal but eats anyway.
******
Taehyung has noticed your unusual quiet behavior which has now endured the whole past week but he doesn’t comment on it. He senses you alert but isn’t sure about the reason behind it. His attention is fully directed to his niece, taking special care of her as she thankfully seems to get better quickly.
You’ve been left alone in the living-room for a while. You look at the door when the doorbell rings and stride towards it confidently.
You swing the door open with too much force, taking by surprise Hwiin who’s standing on the other side. You frown a little at her when she smiles at you eerily. You shift to let her in.
You walk past her and sit down again while she remains standing, looking around to localize anyone else.
Luckily, you both don’t have to keep up with an awkward silence when Taehyung shows himself a couple of minutes later. You don’t pay attention to them as they start conversing about whatever brought her here.
You find yourself looking at her two or three times before you eventually decide to walk away and check on Hina.
“This seems like a lot, to be honest,” Taehyung admits looking at the screen right in front of him. “I’m barely keeping up with Hina and her school schedule.”
Hwiin’s smile doesn’t falter. She leans in and gently puts her hand on his arm. “Trust me, those interviews and shows overseas are much needed after your successful comeback.”
“I thought they’d be enough, you know, given my previous absence.”
He meets her fairly subtle gaze, sensing its pleading. It used to work much more easily before. He runs his finger in his hair, breaking touch with her but gets her all the more captivated with his casual demeanor and bare face.  
“You cannot just rely on local activities, it’s an opportunity not to miss. And I’m sure your foreign fans will be so grateful. It’s been so long.”
He leans back in the chair, grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. He can’t say he doesn’t miss them just as much.
“We’ll take care of…” She looks down, frowning as she looks for her words, “adjustments later. Please give your green light.” They lock eyes. She grins an innocent smile, “trust me.”
The dilemma is very clear but his hesitation also emphasizes his excitement about touring abroad again.
He lets out a deep sigh, covering his face with both hands, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but… okay. I’m down.”
He hears the excited squeal that escapes her.
“You won’t regret it.” She says delighted as she nimbly taps an answer to an email on her tablet computer and puts some order in the several open documents. “Okay,” she brings the device back in front of him and quickly resumes as her way not to lose momentum. “I also needed you to take a look at the new merchandise…”
Sitting with your back against the wall with Hina’s head on your lap, you’re gently combing your fingers through her silky dark hair. You’re starting the reading of the second book when the bell rings again.
Taehyung frowns at the door.
“Are you expecting someone?” His manager inquires as he carefully stands up.
“No…” He trails unsure. She watches him take a look at the intercom to identify the visitors. His frowning deepens. “Yes?”
“Hello, mister Kim?” A female voice says.
“Yes?”
“I am Seohyung Choi from the Seoul Council.” She continues, “our agency received a call from someone concerned about- I believe if I understood correctly your niece, Kim Hina. I would like to discuss it with you.”
Hwiin doesn’t say anything and can feel alarm overwhelming Taehyung.
“Uhm-...” His pulse picks up in speed and his mouth feels dry. “I don’t understand, I-”
“There is nothing to be worried about,” Seohyung reassures him. “I simply would like to ask you a couple of questions about you and your niece, if that is possible.”
“But I- we don’t have any issue here. I me-”
“Let her in.”
Taehyung looks over his shoulder when he suddenly hears your voice.
“I’m not-” He stutters, wondering if you knew about this. “I don’t know-”
He’s panicked and your heart squeezes at the sight but you don’t dither.
“Let her in. Go change quickly. Don’t worry.”
He takes a deep breath and looks back at the intercom. “Uh.. Come in.”
“Thank you.”
He dashes to his bedroom and starts looking for clean clothes with shaking hands. He barely gives himself the time to look at his reflection to ruffle his hair. He thinks of checking on Hina who’s quietly looking at the pictures in the book you were about to read and decides not to bother her.
You watch Taehyung giving quick looks around the penthouse to make sure it is not too messy before he joins you back in the corridor leading to the entrance.  
“It’s going to be okay,” you say softly only for him to hear.
His eyes are glued to the door. “I don’t know why… I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know. You’ll just be answering some questions. Don’t worry.”
He doesn't know how you’re doing it but the calmness in your voice manages to sooth his nerves a little and he remembers to breathe somewhat normally.
“Should I come later?” Hwiin interjects standing up, making you and him turn your heads in her direction.
“Y-you can stay. It’s fine.” Taehyung trails while staring back again at the door. He mutters to himself, “everything’s fine.”
You step back behind and wait.
He pauses right before opening the door. A woman around her mid-thirties walks in with a warm smile and you let out a relieved sigh at her seemingly likeable air, thinking it’ll help him feel less stressed.
She takes off her shoes, smiling at you and Hwiin when she sees you two.
“Please, come in. This is ______, our bodyguard and here, Hwiin my manager.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she grins and you both return the gesture. “You’re home is so lovely inside.”
“Ha, thank you.” He smiles shyly. “Uhm- w-would you like something to drink?”
“Oh don’t bother yourself. I’m good, thank you.”
A very brief instant passes by with everyone being quiet. You look at Taehyung.
“Maybe we should sit down.” Seohyung suggests, smiling to herself while Taehyung leads the way to the dining table with an embarrassed look, shaking his head as a way to get a grip.
“Is Hina here?”
“She’s playing in her room. Should I bring her?”
“Oh don’t. It’s good this way since I’d like to discuss with you first.”
You let him on his own not to cause any kind of extra stress and decide to keep Hina company. Taehyung notices and feels relieved you’re taking a weight off his mind. Hwiin has moved her belongings to the couch where she feigns focusing on her work.
********
“Where are you going?” you ask Hina.
“With daddy…” She pouts at you because of your sudden serious tone.
You stand up from her bed to peek outside her bedroom. Taehyung and Seohyung have left their seats and he is now showing her around.
“Okay, you can go.”
Hina walks away on her tippy toes. You see her hesitating on her tracks at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. She freezes when Seohyung crosses her path.
“Hello, you.” She crouches at her height, slightly shaking her hands. “Your name Hina’s right? Can you show me room?” She lets out a chuckle when the little girl forces her way between Taehyung’s legs to hide herself behind.
“It’s down the corridor.” He informs her when she stands up.
You walk out to let her in and lock eyes with him. He seems a lot more comfortable but gives you an interrogative look. You settle for a small supportive smile and leave them alone.
Hwiin naturally looks up at you when she feels your presence. Her mood seems to have changed.
Seohyung smiles your way when they come back. She and Taehyung sit down with Hina perched on his lap. She finishes writing down notes on her report.
“Alright, I didn’t see anything worth being raised about your household. Beside that one outlet and the window in the bathroom like I pointed it out earlier.”
Hina whines when she drops her soft toy, signaling Taehyung to get it back.
“Otherwise, it seems very secure for little Hina.” She smiles at her while Hina baby talks to her plushy. Taehyung keeps all his attention on the woman. “I’ll send you an email with all the documents needed so I can complete your dossier.”
“Alright.”
“Do you have any specific questions? Something I can shed light on?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Very good. Here, my contact information if something comes back to you.”
“Thank you.”
She bids her goodbye to everyone before Taehyung shows her out. You take one last glance at Hwiin whose face has turned expressionless.
*******************
You’re waiting outside the dressing room with Hina half-asleep in your arms.
Taehyung just finished performing for a show and is now discussing alone with Hwiin as she’s requested. The chair you’re sitting on has been positioned not too far from the door so you can hear it immediately when their conversation becomes heated although you can’t decipher their exact words.
The door opens a short while later. When you look up, Taehyung seems to try his best to keep himself calm. You don’t see Hwiin follow closely.
“Give her to me,” he says quietly with his arms stretched towards you. You stand up and let him hold Hina. He’s wearing the clothes he first came with so you grasp he’s ready to leave the building.
The ride back home is quiet.
He puts Hina to bed and goes shower after telling you to order dinner from his phone. You take it where he left it on the counter on his way in, unlocking it without difficulty since he didn’t set a password.
When Taehyung walks out, dressed in a simple black shirt and grey sweatpants, freshly cleaned but visibly exhausted, you are unpacking the few last dishes.
You start eating, letting the TV fill in the silence between you. You don’t mind being quiet, it just feels off when Taehyung seems elsewhere and it indirectly has you looking for ways to bring him back.
“Hey, you’re not eating that?”
He blinks and automatically hands the chicken wings left in his box.
“I’m not eating if you want it,” you smile faintly.
“I’m full you can have it.” He trails with a small pout and you take his box.
“Don’t look so dejected or I’ll lose my appetite too.”
He lifts his chin to look pensively at the small frown on your face as you bite on the food. “Sorry.”
“You want to talk about it?” You cock your head towards him, attacking a second wing.
He remains quiet a moment and you think you should’ve as well when you see his face gets darker.
“I feel abandoned.” He begins quietly. “It’s like everyone wants me to give up on the idea I could be good for Hina and it’s putting me off.”
Your lips part but you’re not sure if you mean to talk. You wipe the grease off your hands with one of the wipes given by the restaurant.
“I keep asking myself why no one’s seeing the efforts I’m making for this to work. It’s not fair... Just because I’m not practising the kind of job they think is more suited for a family life? It’s not fair...”
It really isn’t, you think. You never thought you out of all the people in his life would be among the few supporting him. You wish you had a say but you’re only left with encouraging words to repeat yet again.
You naturally reach for his knee, squeezing it a little. “I think they know you’re doing a great job. For some reason, they refuse to accept it.”
“They think Hina’s maternal grandparents would provide a more stable environment. I don’t want her to be taken away, ______.” He groans with a weak voice.
You feel a pang of sorrow when he blinks his teary eyes at you. You detest when you can’t find anything to do that could help. You reach for the second wipe, tear it open and unfold it.
“Even if they do,” you inch yourself closer to clean the stains of the dipping sauce off his mouth and explain with a soft voice. “You won’t give up on her. Because you know, it’s the right thing to do. And if you don’t, you’d prove them right.”
Taehyung quietly fixes his gaze on you with tired eyes, replaying your words in his mind. You remain silent as well, squeezing the dirty wipe in your fist, and find yourself glancing down at his lips irregularly.
Before you can feel drawn to each other even closer, you back up until reaching an appropriate distance from him and begin cleaning the table, looking away. “You should go to sleep.”
************************
Taehyung tried his best not to look too dispirited the following weeks until the day he received a mail stipulating Hina’s maternal grandparents showing themselves as the better option for her at this moment in the eyes of the court.
You couldn’t help but think it had to do with the sudden change in social workers.
You close your hands around the cup of hot tea you just made herself, eyes riveted on the grey winter sky.
You get snapped out of your reverie when you hear one of the stools being dragged as Hina tries to climb on it. Your eyes soften at her when she gives you a victorious smile and settles on her seat to eat her snack prepared by you. It’s almost dinner time but Taehyung doesn’t care.
He dressed her in a beautiful dress, you wouldn’t dare to guess the price of it.  
Taehyung joins a little after with a matching hair band in his hand. You don’t look at each other. He carefully combs her hair and places the accessory. He sits down between you and watches her eat in silence.
He props his hand on the table to rest his head on. You don’t mind him hiding from you.
“We going to the zoo again? Let’s go to the zoo.” She blinks her big eyes at him.
He combs her bangs away from her eyes and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Wanna go see the animals?”
She hums positively and nods at the same time bringing her eyes back on her brownie. “They don’t bite, daddy. They nice.”
Hina stretches her tiny hand to feed him some of her snacks and lingers her gaze on him for a second, thoughtful.
“We going with ______ too.”
You look away from her and lower your head.
He cleans her mouth with his thumb and jumps a little when the doorbell rings.
“I going! I going,” she chirps, jumping down from her seat with his help.
A shaky sigh that escapes him. You gently grab his forearm, addressing him with a supportive look before you both walk towards the door.
You stay behind. Hina’s now able to graze the doorknob when she stretches on her tiptoes. You wonder if this is how she looked right before you first saw her. Your face darkens.
When he opens the door, you recognize the new social worker joined by her grandparents. Everyone’s eyes on the little girl who seeks comfort behind Taehyung as she peeks up curiously.
“Hina,” calls softly her grandmother with her open arms. “Come say hi.”
She doesn’t move, tightening her grip on his pants. He pats her head while her grandmother keeps beckoning her.
“Go say hi to grandma.”
After a couple of seconds, Hina walks slowly towards the elderly couple to let them kiss her as they exchange a couple of words. Taehyung walks away to get a bag with all of Hina’s belongings.
You don’t know where to look. You try not to stare as he crouches down at the doorstep. Her grandmother tries not to look too affected when Hina hops back in his arms.
“Hina you’ll go to grandma and grandpa’s house, today.” He trails softly while putting her coat and small beanie on for her. “You’ll go with them for some time and then I’ll come see you, all right. Here, don’t forget your gloves… It’s snowing outside.”
“You coming with Hina?” She asks after fetching his black knit cap from the sideboard for him.
He takes it from her, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “No, baby. You go with them. I will come after.”
Her frown deepens as she shakes her head unsatisfied. “No, no. I stay with daddy…”
“Hina,” her grandpa’s voice earns their attention. “There are a lot of toys back home. Don’t you want to go play with them? There’s a big princess castle built an-”
She turns away to hug Taehyung’s neck, shaking her head again.
“Hina, we should go now. Come.”
He can’t help but tense at the authoritative tone the old woman uses. She goes to grab one of Hina’s arm and forces her back up on her feet.
She starts whimpering and her eyes get teary.
“Let’s try not to linger.” The social worker interjects suddenly, backing away to prompt their quick departure and get settled with it rapidly.
You look their way. Hina brings a clothed hand to her face and rubs it when a tear slides down, naturally recalling what Taehyung always told her when she’d fuss. He stands up with his head hanging and she cranes up hers to pout at him and her grandmother, baring her grief.
“Let’s go,” her grandfather prompts after taking the bag from Taehyung.
Hina drags her feet, looking back as she’s taken further and further away from him. You join Taehyung rooted in the corridor. He sniffles at the gut-wrenching sight.
“Don’t break down in front of her.” You say quietly, seeing her one last time before they turn around the corner.
He looks down at the black beanie and closes his hand tightly around it. Her crying is weaker now and Taehyung can't hold it back anymore.
You walk him back in and barely have the time to close the door before he slowly grabs onto your body, hugging you to him, seeking comfort.
You freeze in surprise a quick second and slowly lower your hands on his back, listening to him sobbing in your neck.
“Please, hold me.”
You squeeze him hard, clenching away the tears blurring your vision.
***********************
You indulge him when he asks you to spend the night in his bed, allowing him to curl in your embrace as he cries himself to sleep.
The following day, he hopes to see you still by his side but finds the other side of the bed, cold and empty.
He didn’t rest that night and the note you left on his bedside table had only awakened a headache he would’ve done without. What he reads doesn’t surprise him, Hina had been taken away from him and so did your professional duties with you.
Hwiin cannot hold back the delight of having him to herself again, steering him towards whatever she thought advantageous for him and mostly for her.
She didn’t take in account the other side of the coin. As pliable as she got him to be, his demeanor was left out of her reach.
Taehyung does the bare minimum expected from him on tv shows and interviews, he still gives his all during performances but they’re lacking and soon, Hwiin is brought to deal with unhappy and worried fans who do their utmost to discover the reason behind his dull self.
Taehyung becomes withdrawn not only around strangers but also when he’s with his parents, friends and even when he’s left alone with her  and she doesn’t stand it. She hates to witness him become the ghost of himself and this would only lead them to their downfall. Her feelings for him make it all uncomfortable.
****************
As for Hina, she isn’t doing any better.
Her grandparents have a hard time getting along with her. She’s not lacking anything but they fail filling in his absence. She struggles to get familiar with her new surroundings and their strictness does nothing but nurture her fear of them.
Her change of mood doesn’t go unnoticed by her school teacher but even her doesn’t manage to make her talk.
“This can’t go on,” her grandfather grunts sitting down on their bed, facing the window. His wife remains quiet on her side. “This isn’t benefiting any of us.”
“If she goes back with him, we’ll never be part of her life.” She places the comb back on the bedside table. “She’s everything we’ve got left of our precious Yuri.”
“Let’s not put a wall between us and him.” He reaches back when he feels her slipping beneath the sheets. “We’ve got to admit he did a good job raising her all this time despite his lack of experience… We’re not this patient anymore... It pains me to see Hina like this. We should think about it.”
She doesn’t answer and he turns back to look up at the night sky.
I hope you forgive us, Yuri.
***********************
It takes a month to Hwiin before she decides to visit mr and mrs Hiroshi. The wind is harsh on her skin as she climbs up the slope leading to their house. She tries to block the cold as much as possible, tilting her head down in the collar of her coat and ends up bumping into someone coming in the opposite direction.
“Sorry,” she apologizes instantly but the person doesn’t acknowledge her, hidden under a large hood. She stops a second wondering if they come from their house since the path doesn’t lead anywhere else but hurriedly picks up her walk again.
She pushes the intercom button but notices from afar mister Hiroshi outside sweeping the pathway from the outside door to their house.
“Hwiin, isn’t that right?” He recalls after walking up to her and greeting her. “What brings you here in this awful weather? You’re going to catch a cold.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she trails embarrassingly as she tries to think of ways to formulate her next words. “I’m sorry to bother you but I’ve come to talk to you because of Taehyung a-”
“You here to convince my wife to have Hina go back to him, aren’t you?”
“Uhm- y-yes, yes.” She blinks a little taken aback. “I- I”
“Well, you’re running a little bit late.”
She stares back, confused.
“A young woman around your age- very charming and polite by the way- just came by with the same motive. You probably saw her, she left a couple of minutes ago.”
Hwiin looks behind her, pensive. “Did she?”  
/////////////////!\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
Feedback is much appreciated Reblog if you wish to read more
62 notes · View notes