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salazarslytherin · 3 years

Text

midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)

requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here

summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night

part two here

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him

word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)

a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx

☯︎ join tag list here

Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.

However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.

A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.

⚔︎

Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.

Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.

The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.

It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.

However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.

⚔︎

You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.

Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.

Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.

You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.

Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.

The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.

The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?

⚔︎

Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.

Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.

Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.

The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.

You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.

After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.

⚔︎

The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.

However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.

"What the fuck?"

You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Oh."

Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.

"Pour me a cup?"

The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.

Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.

"'m surprised you're down here."

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.

"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."

A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.

"I–what?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."

You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.

"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."

You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.

"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."

An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.

"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.

"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."

A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.

"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."

You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.

"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"

You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.

"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."

You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.

"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."

Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.

"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."

Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.

⚔︎

After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.

While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.

Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.

Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.

It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.

⚔︎

Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.

George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.

You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.

Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.

Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.

"Y/N?"

You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.

You should have known you weren't that lucky.

Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.

"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"

⚔︎

Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.

Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.

Tranquility was what the scene spelt.

In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.

Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.

Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.

You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.

Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.

"Why are you following me."

Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.

"Why are you running away from me?"

Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.

"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"

You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.

But of course, fate never let you have your way.

You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.

"I never ran away from you."

Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.

"Y/N, I'm talking to you."

The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.

"Well that's a first."

Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.

But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.

Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.

Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.

You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.

"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?

Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.

"I–"

"You know how much that hurt?"

You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.

"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"

Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.

Ashamed.

"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."

Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.

"And you know the worst fucking part?"

Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.

"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."

"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."

The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.

Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.

Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.

You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.

"I, I was afraid."

Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.

"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."

It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.

"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."

You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.

"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."

"I wasn't a kid!"

"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."

Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.

"But you never stopped..."

Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.

"Are you being serious?"

His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.

"As serious as I could be Y/N."

Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.

Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.

Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.

The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.

Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.

Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.

"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.

"Only the best for my girl."

Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?

Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.

His girl.

⚔︎

The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.

The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.

“Can I?”

Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.

One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.

“Yes, I need you.”

You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.

Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.

“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”

Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.

The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.

“May, may I?”

He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.

You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.

“Are you... a virgin?”

The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.

“No, I’m not.”

His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.

It didn’t matter. You were with him now.

He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.

Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.

His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.

“Are y’okay?”

You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.

“Yes, just, one second.”

Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.

He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.

“Faster.”

Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.

You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.

Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.

“Are you close baby?”

A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.

One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.

His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.

Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.

But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.

As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.

Yet he still never relented.

As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.

With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.

Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.

Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.

Something you didn’t want to lose either.

⚔︎

The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.

When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.

In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.

“Did you regret that?”

The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.

His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.

“No. Did you?”

The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.

“Of course not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.

“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.

“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.

“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”

You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.

Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.

You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”

part two out now x

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obsessive-ego · 3 years

Text

Just go with it

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Lewd mentions

Beetlejuice needs you to pretend to be his fiance or he's in trouble

"Babes?"

...

"Babes, wake up"

....?

"Y/n wake up"

What?

Was your first thought as you are shaken awake by the ghost who has made your home his, you mumble out something unintelligible as you grope around for your phone, you cringe as the bright light of the screen blinds you, as your eyes adjust to the light you groan, 4am.

"Beetlejuice, what-"

"Okay, babes, no time to explain but I need you to pretend to be my fiance" despite the odd statement beetlejuice sounded a tad worried.

"What?"

"Long story short I may have said a few things to some guys, and if we dont pull this off I will be dragged back to the netherworld" the ghoul whispered dragging you out if bed.

"Oh" was all you could muster is your drowsy state.

"So theres a suit from the netherworld waiting to meet you, in your living room, now" beetlejuice continued rubbing the back of his neck.

You sigh and shuffle about your room, slipping on slippers and giving your hair a quick once over, as you reach for your housecoat beetlejuice swats away your hand.

"Bee-"

Beetlejuice drops his jacket around your shoulders "this will work much better babes, we need to sell this"

You groan, you were too tired for this, thank god you didnt work in the morning, who knows how long this shit is gonna take, but as tired as you were you couldnt let whoever take your ghost back to the netherworld.

"Okay you're my fiance, I proposed a week ago, and you're head over heels for me, that last part wont be hard to fake huh doll?" The ghoul gives you a wink, you sigh.

"Wait, almost forgot" the ghoul snaps his fingers, you feel a light squeeze on you right handed middle finger.

Upon your finger appears rather tacky, pretty ring, the band was black and white, and resembled a snake, the gem was a brilliant green, you honestly felt your heart squeeze when you saw it, to be honest staring at the ring felt like a dream, maybe because you just woke up? It was beautiful, and the idea of it being for real kinda hurt knowing it was for pretend, but those feelings didnt matter right now, Beej needed you to help him avoid being dragged back to the netherworld, you can think about those depressing emotions later.

The two of you leave the bedroom, beetlejuice takes the lead as you shuffle behind.

As the two of you enter the living room you could help but pause and stare at the 'suit' beej claimed that was waiting for you.

In your little arm chair sat a fairly tall skeleton man, his bones a blueish hue, wearing a lime green suit that looked fresh off the rack, guess not all dead guys wore dirty clothes, in all honesty this was your first time seeing another dead person aside from the maitlands and beetlejuice, they were human, beej was humanish, but this guy looked like he walked out of a cartoon.

"Sorry for the wait, you know breathers, they need to sleep" beetlejuice cackled snapping you from your thoughts "well there's y/n, theres the ring, and theres the door, feel free to use it" beetlejuice snears, wanting to get this whole thing done with, yes he adored messing with you, and with different circumstances this could have been funny, but too much was on the line for him and you were an awful liar, he loved you sure, but theres no way you could pull off lying.

"Y/n I presume?" The skeleton gestures to you, completely ignoring beetlejuice, you nod "its pleasure to put a face to the name, I apologize for the rude awakening, when you've been dead for as long as I have, you tend to lose the meaning of time, my dear this wont take long, we just need to clear up some loose ends then you can get back to your rest" the skeleton gestures you to sit on the couch next to beetlejuice who has already made himself comfortable.

You gently sit down next to BJ who was quick to drape an arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side.

The skeleton pulls out a clipboard from his jacket and flips through the pages

"Lawrence B Shoggoth, y/n m/n l/n, I have requested an audience with you two to clear up some issues with Lawrence's recent updated paper work, not to mention a handful of rumours that need to be put to bed" the ghoul flips through the papers "it says here the y/n you are Lawrence's spouse, is that true?"

You nod

"You see y/n, Lawrence here cant be trusted at face value, so that is why I must converse with you on the matter, so you are his fiance correct?"

"Yes"

"I see, now how long have the two of you known each other?"

"About a year or so" you shrug

"Mmmhmm" the ghoul scribbles down something and continues "now when did he propose to you?"

"Last week" this was so anxiety inducing, for a man with no eyeballs it sure felt like he was staring into your soul.

"Now what drawn you to such a, oh how do I put this, such a man?"

You hear beetlejuice huff out as if he was insulted.

"Well, beetlejuice may be rough around the edges, and can be a dick at times, but he's great company, hes funny, witty, has great taste in movies, and he makes me smile, hes also, well, he's also good looking too" you look away from both parties, as you were clearly embarrassed over what you said, it was the truth, but it still made your face burn.

Beetlejuice leans forward, looking in your direction, eyes wide and mouth a gape, his hair now a bright pink.

"Mr Shoggoth, you look surprised at y/n's words" the ghoul grabs Beetlejuice's attention.

"Heh, you see y/n is the shy type, hearing that type a thing is rare and ALWAYS gets my attention". Beetlejuice slicks his hair back removing the pink and resetting it to its default green.

"Mmmmhmmm" was the ghoul's only response as attention was drawn back to you.

"So y/n you truly are betrothed to Lawrance, you want to be wed to him on purpose?" The skeleton's tone was almost surprised, as if beetlejuice was the most revolting creature in existence and you wanting, out of your own free will to be bound to such a thing, was the most insane thing he has ever herd.

You nod, beetlejuice gives the skeleton a smug toothy grin.

"This isnt a joke, nor is he blackmailing or threatening you?" His tone sounded desperate, as if he needed to prove beetlejuice was lying for his own good.

You only shake your head, while beetlejuice surpresses a laugh

"Ya see bone head? I'm innocent~" he chuckles, squeezing you close to his side.

"Y/n you are aware of what you're doing for Lawrence correct?" The skeleton sounded almost smug, you only stare back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You see y/n, you are doing Lawrence here a huge favor, when the dead marry the living, they are able to walk the earth like you do, you are granting him life, something he has never had, this is why we must confirm with you, that you understand what he's doing" the skeleton gestures to beetlejuice, the demon only rolls his eyes in response.

"I know"

Attention is drawn to you

"I know all about that life giving thing, beetlejuice told me about it"

"Well you see y/n, this isnt the first time Lawrence has-"

"I know, I was told, by him and the person he tried to marry the first time, small world huh"

The skeleton pauses for a moment then coughs into his fist, as if to regain his composure after being surprised, he continues "I see, Lawrence has been honest with you, I didnt think he had it in him"

Beetlejuice snarls at the comment, tips of his hair turning red.

"Just a few more loose ends y/n then you can return to your rest" the skeleton flips through his papers "ah, Lawrence, y/n may have been couched, and since you seem so eager to speak, I do have a few things I need to clarify with you, if the two of you are in love as you say and this isnt a farce, you would know plenty about your future spouse, when was y/n born?" The skeleton snears as if hes caught you two red handed

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "easy *birthday day and year* hell I woke them up with some early morning birthday head"

You cover your face in embarrassment at that comment, yet you were surprised he knew the year.

"Correct, and might I saw congratulations on a LEGAL partner this time"

Beetlejuice rolls his eyes at the low blow before grumbling "it was a green card thing"

The skeleton ignores Beetlejuice's comment and continues "what drew you to this breather? And please keep it out of the gutter"

Beetlejuice huffs "spoil sport, y/n here is one of the kindest, sweetest, softest breather I ever met, they let me do whatever I want, they want me around, no stings attached, they got great taste, just look at the company they keep, and let me tell ya, the first time we met they sucker punched me in the jaw for scaring them, and I've been dreaming of that swing ever since"

You just stare at the ghoul, he remembered that? He remembered how he first met you? When lydia locked you in the basement and he jumped out at you, successfully scaring you but earning himself a fist in the jaw, wow. Your face felt hot remembering that, what a frist impression.

The night droned on and on with dull questions the suit had lined up to prove beetlejuice was lying, but every question had an appropriate answer, and the skeleton knew he could not prove anything as the night went on.

Low on patience and time he decided call it quits.

The skeleton pushes his clipboard back into his jacket and sighs "I appreciate your time y/n, thank you for your cooperation, and Lawrence, I look forward form your departure of death, a short vacation from you is the pick me up I deserve" the skeleton raises up from your chair and walks over to a wall on the other side of the room, you watch him draw a door, and knock 3 times, you're livingroom wall opens up to the netherworld. You freeze at the sight, you always felt uneasy seeing the netherworld portal open up, maybe it was a living thing? As if beetlejuice felt your discomfort he pulls you into a side hug, grounding your anxiety, you give a sigh of what feels like relief.

The skeletontirns to face the two of you "Before my departure, y/n I do have one final thing to ask you, can you kiss Lawrence for me?"

"What?" You gawk in confusion

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "what? You the type of guy who gets off on watching others get hot and heavy, I mean I feel ya, but if you insist, I can help a guy out" beetlejuice is quick to cup your face "give daddy some sugar~" he purrs puckering up to go in for the kiss.

"Lawrence you misunderstand me, I ask y/n, if you two are truly betrothed, shy or not, y/n shouldnt have any issues kissing their lover" the skeleton gestures to you, without eyeballs or eyebrows he sure wore a smug face, as if he found you two out.

Beej snorts out his nose, great, he's fucked, theres no way you could sell this now, the ghoul had to take the lead and try to steer this away from what this bureaucrat wants "Shy or not, my little sex pot here isnt too keen on others watching, believe me, I tired, the only thing they wont do in the bedroom-"

"Bee, it's fine" you interject, gently grabbing the demons sleeve, he looks at you mouth agape, green slowly blossoming into pink in his face and hair.

"You mind leaning down honey?" You ask softly, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, yes beetlejuice has kissed you more times then you could remember, and yes, youd be lying if you didnt enjoy them, but taking the lead? That was new, and to have someone watching? Not to mention if you dont make this look good he's gonna take beetlejuice away.

Beetlejuice on the other was practically glowing pink, and vibrating with excitment, not to mention drooling.

You gently cup the demons face, running your thumbs across his stubble, you swore you could hear the demon purring, you take a deep breath through your nose before closing the gap between the two of you.

Beetlejuice's hands find homes for themselves, on in your hair, the other on the center of your back. Your hands move from the demon's face and bury themselves in his messy hair, gently giving his head a scratch, you squeak with surprise as the ghoul lifts you up from the ground, instinct kicks in nd you wrap you legs around his waist, lips still locked with his, you feel his tongue probing at you mouth, begging for your permission to enter, you oblige, his tongue wasnt new to you, you felt it a handful of times, running up the side of your face when the ghoul was trying to get your attention mostly, but in your mouth?

It was long, and big, and kind of cold, it easily took the lead, exploring your mouth.

You push on Beetlejuice's chest to notify him you needed to breath, the two of pull your lips part from each others, a thin line of saliva still connecting the two of you.

"Oh Lawrence" you sigh

The demon now completely electric pink, still holding you up growls before asking "couch?"

You hum out "yes"

Before the ghoul flops backwards on the couch, having you sit on top of him, you give his tie a quick yank and he groans in response.

"Oh doll, you're lucky you dont work tomorrow, cuz I want you to ride me all night~"

"Ahem!"

The two of you freeze for a moment, beetlejuice snickers at your face, clearly embarrassed, you pause for a moment, swallowing your shame before addressing the ghoul who was still here

"You're still here?" Was all you manged to breath out

"I mean I'm into it, but y/n? Not so much, and they clearly arent into you watching so" beetlejuice snorts, trying to wave the skeleton off so the demon could relax.

"I see, y/n you clearly are attracted to him, and understand all the consequences of marrying the dead, I declare that Lawrence B Shoggoth was, in fact, telling the truth, this should be a holiday, such a rare occasion" the skeleton trailed off as he walked into the netherworld, you only watched as he vanished and the walls of your little apartment rearranged themselves like it never happened.

You sat top beetlejuice for a moment, sighing over dodging the bullet of losing your, very dear friend, you may or may not be head over heels for.

You're reminded of where you were sitting with a familiar pinch on your butt.

"Hey honey~" the ghoul purrs

You jerk up at recalling the situation you're in, beetlejuice groans at you movement

"Careful sweets, keep moving like that and you'll turn this semi into a boner" he snorts out a chuckle.

You're quick to get off the demon, though he did grunt in protest, before sitting back up and pulling a couch cushion over his lap, despite how crude he was, he did have SOME common courtesy.

As much fun as it would have been for the demon to tease you on your rather hot actions, he noticed how your attention wasnt on him, rather then you were staring at the wall that was once the door to the netherworld.

"So we did it?" Was all you seemed to whisper

"Yup, I got to hand it to you babes, you did quite a good job fooling that stiff"

You turn back to the demon and give him a soft smile feeling completely relieved.

"You know it's funny y/n, you're a terrible liar, and you sure as hell cant act, you got way too many tells, but yet, I didnt see a single twitch nor did I hear a single stutter, why's that?~" you knew that tone oh too well, it was the 'I know something embarrassing about you' tone, it was smug yet made your legs turn to jelly.

"I guess when it comes down to really important stuff i guess i can-" you stammer while fiddling with the hem of your shirt

"I dont think so dolly" beej was quick to interrupt "babes, you've been wearing my jacket the whole time, I've seen you keep glancing down at the ring, and fuck me, the amount of fire in that kiss, someone like you cant fake that"

You refuse to look his way, this was one hell.of a way to come clean with your feelings, a heavy silence fills the room, though you're pretty sure beetlejuice could hear your heart pounding away.

As if the ghoul could sense your discomfort, he sighs "ya know babes, it's pretty late, and breathers need to sleep, so how bout you head back to bed and I'll finish grilling you in the morning"

Glancing back at beetlejuice you could see the flicks of purple appearing in the pink mess of his hair, you give the ghouls half hearted smile, as you go to take off the jacket he raising his hand motioning you to stop

"Its gonna be cold tonight babes, how bout you keep it warm for me?"

"Oh, alright, night Bee, glad I could help you" you wave off as you head to your bedroom to over think what just happened.

Beetlejuice groans when he hears the familiar sound of your bedroom door closing, he was so close to getting a real confession out of you, but tomorrow morning is gonna be pretty dangerous for you, he sighs removing the pillow from his lap, he had a more pressing matter to attend too, and with your taste on his tongue and the beautiful imagine of you on top of him yanking at his tie, this 'problem' wont take long to deal with.

Bonus

The next morning was quite awkward, beetlejuice wasnt kidding about grilling you in the morning, but at least what felt like an interrogation last night, now felt like childish teasing

"Bee, can I ask you something about last night?"

The ghoul beams with excitement at your question "anything you want babes"

"If we would have failed, what would have happened to you, you said you would have been dragged back to the netherworld and" you pause hoping the ghoul would fill in

"Oh, yeah, if we would have got caught I would have had to spend a week in the netherworld with my mother fixing this paperwork and just being chewed out, a nightmare babes, we dodged a bullet" he raises his hand for a high five as if to congratulate you on helping him out

"What, I'm sorry what"

Beetlejuice lowers his hand and frowns at your response

"Beetlejuice I was worried sick, I thought they were gonna take you away forever, i was terrified if i fuck up I'd never see you again, like what am i supposed to do without you?! I dont want you to leave me" you practically screamed

Beetlejuice only started at you, slowly soaking in what you said

'I dont want you to leave me'

His blank stare slowly shifts to a smile, flicks of pink appearing in his hair "dont worry sugar, you're stuck with me"

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader

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tomhardydallasstarsgirl · 3 years

Text

FUCK.YOU.ANGEL.REYES

Chapter 3.5

Angel Reyes x Black Reader

Warnings: Crude Nasty Hot and Dirty Language. Oral Sex Unprotected Sex. Female receiving. Bodily Fluids

Summary: You return to Santo Padre after being gone for nearly 15 years. Your life and also others will change. Affecting everything you hold dear including your Mayan MC Family.

Not requested by anyone. This is a short Chapter solely dedicated to Angel basically being Angel. ENJOY PEEPS!!!

Pic credit by @claytoncardenas_angels from Instagram

A thunderstorm has arrived to Santo Padre with howling winds, loud crashes of thunder and flashes of lightning. You were asleep after yet another lengthy round of sex with Angel who was holding you close as you two were asleep. That was while the moon was out. But, now it’s a different story as you two are awake again. Just like the raging storm outside there’s a whole different one of pain, passion and so much pleasure going on under Angel’s roof as he just has your back pinned against his heavy shower glass door as a mixture of cries and lustful pleas are mixed with the hot showering steam. You have your legs around him his tall solid figure as he drags more orgasms from your body. That feeling that was once wrapped so tightly in the pit of your stomach was never reached or challenged by any man before Angel also which wasn’t many either. He has single-handedly been able to push, tease, manipulate your body to the edge as he’d watch you dangle before taking the plunge into the abyss of ecstasy. His eyes, teeth, voice, lips, thick ringed fingers and deadly tongue have all done a insurmountable assault on you. Of course, not including that Double XXL King Cobra big dick energy swinging between his legs. Its funny how even before letting him touch you in such an intimate way he latched onto you in more ways than one. He occupied your mind loving there rent free as he eased into your heart little by little and grabbed a hold of your soul by revealing himself by warming up to you. He pulls you out of the shower as he dries your body slowly and on purpose. Then he walks you back to his bedroom. Grabs a blindfold covering your eyes as he sits you down at the foot of the bed.

“Don’t move mama. I’ll be right back”, he whispers as he kisses your lips softly disappearing for a minute.

All you can hear is the rain falling with the heavy winds as your breathing was steady until you felt the nearness and warm heat of a body coming near you. What you can’t see is that Angel is carrying a small tray in tow as he places it on the floor near your feet. A pair of strong hands touched your thighs as rough pads of his fingers trace the outlines of them as your breath slightly quickens. The feeling is making you nervous but, at the same time it’s exhilarating. Once the touching stops he stepped away from you heading toward the head of his bed. You can hear as if something was heavy and chained was being put in place at the headboard.

He comes back to you as he stares at you as you anxiously chew on your bottom lip while your curiosity is like a runaway train. He grabs a strawberry as he holds it in front of your face rubbing it against your lips.

“Hmmm is that a strawberry daddy?”, you ask as a smile appears on your face.

He doesn’t right away as he dips it in chocolate dripping down his thick finger as a he places it toward you lips as you take a bite. You moan at the taste as he watches you lick the extra chocolate from your lips. He nearly finishes the rest of it as he holds the last piece on his own lips. Moving closer to you as you pull him in taking the rest into your mouth as he lets out a feral growl as you suck on his bottom lip. He’s suddenly overheated and his dick is hard as fucking steel as he grabs you picking you up placing your body flat on his bed.

“Damn my necklace looks beautiful between these breasts I’m going to lick and suck the hell out of”, as your mouth waters with anticipation.

He grabs each of your wrists as they become shackled to his headboard while his hard dick keeps brushing your left leg as a yelp escape your lips. He laughs under his breath as he leaves your legs free.

“Alexa. Play Living Room Flow for me”, asks Angel.

“Sure thing Daddy. Anything for you”, the feminine voice responds back to him as you raise a quizzical eyebrow and shaking your head.

Suddenly music comes thumping from his sound system as Jhene sultry voice seeps through his sound system.

I’m so glad you called right on time

You must have just read my mind

If we skipped the small talk, want you now

But, I don’t have to stay til mornin’

I don’t have to, I don’t have pack no clothes

I am really not that lonely

We finished, we finished and I will go

You gasp and hold you legs together for the simple fact that Jhene gets you in the mood for sex. Unless Angel knows now that her music is your Achilles heel and makes you melt to do just about anything.

He doesn’t say a single word as you only hear his heavy ragged breathing as you pool between your legs. So there you are chained to Angel’s headboard with a blindfold over your eyes when you as that moment feel him snake between your legs as your heart jumps into your throat. Suddenly hear as if something is being shakened in a can when something cold is applied to your belly button as you jump from the coldness of it. A split second later it hits you that this man is putting whip cream on your body so you know what’s going to happen next. His hot tongue laps up every drop of the whip cream as you want to free your hands from the cuffs to touch Angel so badly as you bit down on your lip. You call his name repeatedly as he continues to torment you slowly. He grabs your hips to hold you in place.

“You keep your fine ass still dulce. Or else”, he demands as you stay still not wanting the latter of his threat.

You’re body is still as a board as you feel a sticky and dripping sensation on your skin running between you breasts and on top of your hard as diamond nipples. A slow and agonizing slick trail of his tongue leaves you gasping and begging as he sucks up the honey. Putting your body in hyper drive as you feel two fingers dip between your folds as the pad of his thumb making tiny circles to you clit.

“FUCK ANGEL!! Make me come daddy!!!”, you when as he circles your clit faster as your hips move too.

He must’ve felt you were close to euphoria as he whispers to you.

“I told you to not move didn’t I?”, he whispers in your ear as your breath is ragged and uneven as rubs your clit as your upper body slowly leaves his bed.

Just as you were about to cum for him he removes his hand as you growl in anger.

“WHAT FUCK YOU DO THAT FOR ANGEL”, as you yell at him in frustration as he laughs at you.

“What fucking part of be still you don’t understand little girl? I fucking meant that shit”, as he toyed with you some more.

He then grabs the chocolate syrup as he dips his thick finger into it. He drizzles the syrup onto your folds and clit as he grabs your legs pinning you down so you can’t move an inch. He dives in laying his tongue flat as he suck up the syrup as he gasp and cry his name. You so badly wanted to touch and grab onto Angel as he assaulted your pussy with his stiff tongue and thick full beard as tears fall heavily from your eyes.

“Daddy please let me touch you baby”, you yell in a crying sob as you beg Angel for relief.

Of course, Angel being the brick wall he can be licks deeper and faster as you pull at the restraints wanting to be set free. You’re thinking to yourself as your running full steam ahead as Angel is nearing you towards that infinite orgasm you’ve been within reach as tears fall faster from your eyes as your so want to squirt all over his beautiful beard. Just as your nearing the finish line you whisper his name non-stop and he does it again pulling back from you as your now beyond pissed as your now cussing him out.

He does nothing but, guffaws with such cockiness you are practically beside yourself at this point.

“I fucking hate you Angel Reyes. I literally can’t stand you right now”, as you spew anger and cuss words.

He grabs you by the waist as he yanks your lower half toward him as you attempt to resist him.

“Colibri this is a losing battle of you trying to fight and rebel against me. Especially since I know you want Daddy to stretch out this tight ass pussy you been waiting for. All you want to do is wet and squirt all over this dick too. So, when you think you denying me you actually denying yourself”, he whispers in your ear as his tongue flicks your lobe as it sets your body a blaze. You cry uncontrollably as you plead with him to satisfy you so desperately. To a certain extent he’s enjoying this teasing game of cat and mouse he has going with you. But deep down he just wants to fuck you so hard that he’ll be the only man on your mind. He wants to be so consumed with all of you physically and mentally it’s tearing him up to an extent to see you begging, crying and pleading for him to fuck the living day lights out of you. So, he lets bygones by bygones and gives you just exactly what you needed. As another song ends he asks Alexa for another request.

“Play When we by Tank for me”, says Angel as a moan escapes from your lips.

He removes the restraints from your wrists as he softly kisses them, he goes for the blindfold as you move your head from his reach.

“Leave it on daddy. I just want to feel you”, as Angel rolls out a growl from his lips as he’s turned on and his dick is bricking up for your pleasure.

“Get on all fours baby. Head down ass up”, commands Angel as his voice has gotten deeper.

You bite your lip as music pours out from his system again.

When we

Mmm

When we

I like it when you lose it

I like it when you go there

I like the way you use it

Angel rubs his nose along your folds as you hold onto his bed sheets.

I like it that you don’t play fair

Recipe for a disaster

When I’m just try’na take my time

Stroke is getting’ deep and faster

You’re screamin’ like I’m out of line

His tongue is flattened against your clit as circles and sucks on as you gasp for air

“Don’t stop daddy don’t you dare fucking stop. I wanna come all over your beard please”, as you spur him on. You feel to finger hook inside your center as you buck your round ass against his face. He lets out a moan telling you that he likes it as you pump against his stiff faster. His licks against your clit are more sloppy and profound as you start to shake uncontrollably.

“Oh fuck Angel it’s right there daddy take me to it pleeeease”, you beg as he starts to smacks your ass cheeks one at a time back at forth. Those butterflies in your stomach start to flutter out of control as you take to jump.

“Come for daddy baby. Wet up your beard you love so much” as you lose your mind as you spasm against his bed.

Without noticing “Wet the Bed” is playing as a split-second later Angel enters you from behind filling you completely drawing all the air from you as he steadies himself inside you. He pulls your hair to meet his long deep strokes as he reaches around to rub your swollen clit. You come instantly as you slowly try to pull away from his deafening strokes as he laughs at you.

Bring it forward, don’t you run run

I don’t want to be a minute man

Baby you’re just like a storm

Rainin’ on me girl, your soakin wet, ooh whoa

He grabs his cell phone feeling himself at the moment as he starts filming. He snaps a couple of salacious pics of his dick penetrating in and out of you as your moans and cries mix with the skin to skin contact getting louder over the music.

“Fuck girl I love hearing the sweet sound of my dick slapping against my pussy and sweet ass. This is the money shot right here Colibri”, he grunts as he strokes faster connecting to your sweet spot over and over. His strokes are erratic and slowly losing control. He regains as he grabs your waist as he flips you on top of him as he strokes upward into you as he grounds his feet into the mattress.

“You’re mine forever Senorita”.

“Always and forever Mi dulce”.

“No one can’t take my place baby.”

His words alone spare you nothing as you come for him again.

“You hear me? Unless I must remind you again”, as his hot breath is against you ear sending you into over load as he digs his thick fingers into your skin leaving noticeable bruises.

“Yes daddy. Please remind me”, you moan as Angel flips you onto your back as his darker side kicks in. He removes the blindfold as he see you teary brown eyes as he rubs them away. He grabs your legs and pins your knees to meet your shoulders as he moves back and forth inside of you

His beds starts to rock back in forth against the wall as he digs deeper and harder into you. Sobbing cries are grabbed from you as you dig your nails into his skin as you hear his bed creak back and forth from him pounding into you.

“Soy tan adicto a ti papi”, you moan to him as he kisses you with such power behind it his kiss leaves you a sobbing muttering mess.

“Mi Mundo, Mi Todo”, Angel whispers to you as he bits your bottom lip again.

Your eyes glaze over as you dig your fingers into his hair as your signal to him that you about to cum again.

“Come with me daddy. Let me feel every drop of that pearly essence inside of me”, you whisper as you two come together as so strong that you both yell to the top of your lungs.

You both stay in the same position as you both began to breath evenly again as his head is resting against the crook of your neck.

“I love you Angel Ignacio Reyes” you whisper as your fingers play with his hair.

“Te quiero Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N” as he kisses your neck softly.

“Angel I thought the frame was gonna give there for a bit” as Angel laughs at you comment.

“Nah, Colibri that’ll never happen. It’s too strong like the one who sleeps on it”, gloats Angel as you two slowly doze off to slumber as rain continues to fall.

Angel slightly adjusts his big body between your legs as there is a creaking sound.

“CRASH”, as the frame and headboard come apart.

Your eyes are wide as saucers when you realize what you said has come to fruition. Angel looks you in the eye as you attempt to suppress you sniggling giggles of laughter.

“Hmm maybe you should’ve let me come those 3 times you denied me and that would’ve never happened Angel”, you boasted.

“WHAT THE FUCK”, yells Angel as you can’t help but, laugh out loud as he tickles you.

#angel reyes #black reader #mayans mc #mayans fanfic #clayton cardenas #mayans fandom #mayans imagine #mayans fx #mayans drabble #mayans x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #black!reader

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

Manhattan’s Finest

First Part

[Dr. Manhattan x Black Reader]

Word Count: 2.4K

The crowd erupts after the final song from the play ‘It’s a Bird! It’s a Plane! It’s Dr. Manhattan!’ Whistles and cheers fill the auditorium as the performers take a bow, receiving gifts from loved ones in the audience.

You cheer along with them all, having enjoyed the play more than you expected to. A friend of yours was supposed to come along but flaked out at the last minute. It’s fine, at $95 a ticket, you would’ve loved to have used their ticket on dinner instead but life is shit.

You wait for the auditorium to clear out before you get going yourself. It is much better not walking over people and pushing into each other as much as possible. When you make it outside, the muggy air makes you instantly miss the air conditioning inside the theater. Another $95 for a cool breeze would be worth it.

“(y/n)”

You look to your left seeing a man in a suit with a blue mask. His skin is also tinted blue, somewhere between winterfresh gum and blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“Hi? Oh, are you one of the performers?!” you ask excitedly, running up to him, but being taken aback by how tall he is. “You were awesome up there. There were a couple Manhattans but were you the one that sang ‘Blue is the Blood that Runs Cold’? Because man, I have never heard a vibrato like that. It was very impressive.”

“I am not a performer in this production,” he says flatly.

You cock your head to the side, observing his manner. “But...then why all the blue? And did I introduce myself, because I don’t remember telling you.”

“You do, later on in the evening.”

You blink a couple times. “I’m going home to bed after your play. How could I be talking to you?”

“As I said, I am not a performer or member of staff on this production. And I am sorry that you cannot afford the dinner with your unrequited love tonight who is making love to his superior right now, but in time it will-”

“Whoa, what the hell did you just say? His boss? And what do you mean? I don’t love him!”

Unshifting, he continues, “I believe love can exist even in one sided instances. I am finding myself in that position right now by the end of the week.”

You take a step towards him and then to the side, watching him follow your movement. “Ok, I just had to make sure you have eyes under there. You’re stiff as hell.”

He gives a small chuckle that makes you laugh nervously. “Heh, what’s funny?”

“That is what you say to me when we take the train back to your place. You enjoy public displays of affection, both innocent and explicit.”

You groan with disgust. “I haven’t done shit like that a day in my life. How dare you!”

“You do not, because of fear and weak men. You’ve gone all your life thus far picking unattainable partners because you do not see yourself worthy of the ones that truly excite you.”

You cross your arms, growing all the more impatient. “Who are you?”

“I am Dr. Manhattan.”

“PFFFFF! HAHAHA!” You laugh out loud, causing passersby to stare. “You are too much!”

He scoffs, making you question him again. “If I tell you, you will become physical.”

“Try me, nothing is wilder than saying you are Dr. Manhattan.”

“That phrase you said ‘you are too much’, is something you say during the heat of passion as I penetrate you in the foyer of your home.”

Hearing this makes your blood boil, feeling disrespected is something you refuse to tolerate. You push your hands against his chest hard; he barely flinches, instead lowering his head.

“You’re a perverted bastard is what you are! Take that fucking mask off coward, so I know whose ass I’m finna beat.”

“I cannot remove my mask. It would draw too much attention.”

“HA! But telling a random woman that she’s gonna be stroking your dick by midnight isn’t attention seeking?”

“11:38 pm.”

“What?” you ask exasperatedly.

“11:38 pm, not midnight. It is 10:15 now, with a 20 minute walk to the station and another 20 minute wait after just missing your train added to your travel time, it will be 11:38 pm.”

“I AM DONE HERE! Have a shitty night!” You walk away, looking back just once. “And no one really likes Dr. Manhattan except for his huge dick which I am sure you are lacking!” Your heels clack down the sidewalk furiously with the snap of your heel. Steam practically rises off of your body as you think back to the imbecile who couldn’t keep it in his pants. You come up to an intersection and check your phone, which sparks the thought of how he knew about your name and your date bailing and if there was any truth to why he stood you up.

“Is it better for you that I prove myself to be Dr. Manhattan?”

You jump a little too close to the curb, steadying yourself on a nearby pole. “You aren’t him, just shut up about it.”

“But you are curious, aren’t you?”

You look blankly at the road, running over what he said to you before again. “What’s his name?”

“Whose?”

You roll your eyes. “If you are Dr. Manhattan, you would know who I am talking about.”

“I do, I just...need to hear you ask it,” he says.

The cross signal goes on and you begin to strut across. “Oh, is there going to be a rip in the space time continuum if I don’t do things exactly as you predict?”

“They are not predictions but current events. This is already the past.”

You look back at him walking next to you and it unnerves you how he is able to keep up with your hurried stride like a swan on water. He doesn’t sound anxious or out of breath and his body has no bounce even when he steps.

You stop in a quiet part of the street, taking out your phone to turn on the flashlight, beaming it in his face. “What is my date’s name?”

“Crawford. You like that name very much, like Redford or Ashford.”

You pause for a second in silence. “What does he do for a living?”

“Marketing, not unlike yourself. He is up for a promotion but his relationship with his superior is making him feel insecure about his worthiness of moving up in his company however he is in love with her.”

Your heart caves in a little at the word love. You didn’t think an office fling would come to that, so soon.

“He shared many things with you, vulnerably. They were truthful, so you should not regret those moments. However, opening yourself up to him has only led to your heartbreak sooner.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask softly, feeling tears swell up in your eyes.

He takes a beat before continuing. “You took his vulnerability as a sign of trust and therefore evidence that he loves you but because of his strife, you thought it would take time. However, he was only using you for his own gain. You gave him advice that you thought would make him see you as the object of his affection but it instead pushed him further into her arms.”

You scoff, making a tear jump down your cheek. You turn the phone light off, trying your best to hide your emotion. “I still don’t believe you.”

You pull up your friend’s phone number and dial him. The trill of the call ringing in your ear is painful, so you hang up and text him.

“That will be regrettable tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know. Dr. Manhattan doesn’t have to tell me that for it to be true.” You walk down the street at a slower pace, allowing him to walk next to you without resistance.

“Ok. Manhattan, huh? I’m (y/n).”

“I know,” he says lightly.

“Of course you do. So even though you aren’t from the play, you do know what the play is about right? They didn’t say anything original that everybody doesn’t already think.”

“I find people’s fixation on my purpose to be distracting. When the world has developed exponentially over the decades and yet resists change in its most basic forms should be infuriating enough to not dwell on me.”

You tweak your mouth, impressed by his analysis. “I can’t fault you for that. But a blue guy from space with powers is an interesting subject. And you’re usually taller right?”

“I don’t need the attention from that,” he says.

“But blue skin isn’t distracting?” you quip.

“I don’t choose forms on a whim. There has to be purpose.”

“So what purpose do you have here with me? Or am I a stepping stone to somewhere else, because that is a popular feature of mine,” you say deflated.

“You are a beacon of positive energy, which is attractive to most. But not everyone deserves it.”

“So you are going to mentor me?”

“I am going to love you, and you will love me. In time.”

You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “How can you when you don’t know me!”

“But I do,” he says, stopping at the entrance of the train station, to open the door for you.

“Fine. Dog’s name.”

“Shrek.”

“Favorite movie?”

“The Color Purple.”

“Third grade teacher’s name?”

“Mr. Rideau, and I believe you had a crush on him.”

“NO! I did not!” You walk past him in a huff, completely embarrassed that he outed your interest in your teacher in public like that. You trot down the stairs, expecting your train to arrive in a minute but instead you see that very train pulling off as your hop off the last step.

“Dammit!” You collect your composure and plop down on a bench to await the next arrival. Dr. Manhattan slinks next to you.

You check him out in your peripheral, looking behind your shoulder. “You should really not be blue waiting on the train. No one here knows about the show so you stick out like a sore thumb.”

Dr. Manhattan looks slowly at his hands, before turning to you. “I could change, if you like.”

You sigh. “If I had a dollar for every man who told me that.” Looking straight into the black holes of his mask is unnerving to you, feeling a chill run down your spine makes you shiver.

“It’s probably for the best, because this is freaking me out.”

“What would you like for me to look like?”

You shrug. “I can just build you piece by piece?”

He nods. “Essentially.”

You look Manhattan up and down in a complete loss. “I don’t have time for details. When I think of a man I just want them tall, big pockets and a bigger dick.” This sparks a thought in your mind, making you slide slightly closer to him. “Ok, I know you not about that musical or rumors, but is it true about…” You point toward his lap inconspicuously.

“That I am well endowed? Ah well, those measures are up to the individual. You may see for yourself if you like.”

Your body rears back in surprise. “That’s probably what you were looking for this whole time! You’re ridiculous.”

Dr. Manhattan sits unphased. “I won’t force you to, but I know you will. I mentioned it before. I know this is a fantasy of yours, despite my person being involved.”

“So I can just rub on your dick and it means nothing for you? That’s almost disappointing...but this night has already been wild, so feeling up a stranger ain’t far off.” You look around the practically empty station, taking your hand slowly up his thigh until you felt something solid and girthy.

“You’re stiff as hell!” you exclaim, quickly taking your hand back.

“It is a normal state in which I remain in this form.”

“And it’s blue just like you huh?”

“Correct.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think I have it in me to look, so I’ll take your word for it.”

An announcement comes on saying your train is arriving soon. You check your phone; it’s 10:54pm.

“Listen. There’s no way I can sit with you blue on this damn train. So what do you do, hocus pocus into a Black man?”

“It helps to have a reference in mind,” he says.

“You think for a beat before taking out your phone and looking through Instagram. “If I show you a picture, will that do?”

“Of course. I can emulate imagery.”

You look through your feed as quick as you can pulling up the profile, and your favorite picture.

“Him. Can you change into him?”

His face leans into your phone for a moment. In the time it takes for you to blink, a blue light flashes and before you is the man from your feed. The rush of air from the train kicks particles in your eyes, and you rub them for relief and proof that this isn’t a dream. But in front of you is the likeness.

“This is dangerous,” you say, trying to pick your jaw off the ground. He looks around and at his hands, adjusts his suit, then looks at you.

“Is this better?”

You hold your mouth gasping. “You even sound like him! A little stiffer, but very much like him,”

His complexion in person is just as clear as his photos with deep brown hue that has nary a blemish. Strong jaw cloaked in a close trimmed beard that frames the exterior of his wide, chunky lips. He blinks at you with a gaze of innocence and naivete.

You remember to breathe and answer, “Yes. It’s much much better.” The ding of the train alerting its departure snaps you back to reality, grabbing his hand to make it through the closing doors just in time.

You find two empty seats in the back, sitting next to the window. You sit next to him nervously, playing with your hands as the train rumbles down the tracks. You look out over the city passing you both and catch his reflection in the window staring at you. His eyes look happy.

“What?” you ask quietly, looking back at him.

#dr manhattan fic #shakafic #watchmen fic

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yconic · 4 years

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Can you do “We went to school together but haven’t seen each other in a long time and wow have you gotten tall.” With stony pls?

Sure!! Sorry this took so long lol, things were hectic. Hope this is what you looked for :>

∆∆∆

"Tall. Beard. Tall. Handsome. Tall. Cute. "

"Tony, " Rhodey had that barely restrain amusement clinging to his tone, the familiar note he had whenever Tony was being his trademark ridiculous self and he was getting a great kick out of it, but Tony was too preoccupied with oogling Steve to care. "Either kiss the poor guy or let him go."

Naturally, Tony's supposedly genius mind chooses to glitch at the moment he intended to dish a smartass quip or witty one liner, all he give is a small, high pitched "Huh? "

Rhodey holds back a laugh, but the way he bites the inside of his cheek gives him away. "You've been holding Steve's face for like 10 minutes now."

Huh. It's true, Tony realizes, as if he can only now see the pair of warm blue eyes looking down at him, shadowed with a fondness that makes his heart stop for a good second. His hands are cupping Steve's grinning face, and tries not to blush at how Steve nuzzled into his palm, not at all inadequated by the predicament he's in. "I'm good here, actually."

"This is hard to watch, " the scary shadow with the name of Bucky comments from Steve's side, eyeing Sam's back frame from his spot at the bar (Because Tony went through enough bullshit in high school, the least this reunion could amend for him is to be held in a bar)

Tony doesn't think anyone has the right to judge or blame him. This is Steve, the same little spitfire with heroic streak miles wide from the North pole that could barely touch shoulders with him in their youth. With Tony, who, although sulkily, knows was the shortest in his class.

Who, now, was smiling brightly down at him with a small but prominent blush dusting his fair features. Tony pouted, not missing the way Steve tracked the movement. "God. Did they give you Popeye's canned spinach in the army, or something? Who let you be this tall?"

Steve's eyebrow quirks upwards, in synch with his lips. "Well, who let you be this pretty?"

Twin groans of disgust leave Rhodey and Bucky at once, both of course painfully unimpressed by their spectacle. Tony will deny it for the rest of his life even with the photographic evidence Rhodey most likely took, that he did not, in fact, flushed in pleasure at that compliment.

"Wow, " he mutters, clearing his throat so the break in his words is less noticeable, asaa last-minute attempt to dignify himself. "Well, it's a good thing the boldness remained intact. I always did say it'll get you in trouble, but it was also my favorite thing about you, so I can't really complain."

But Steve always had a more timid side to him, one that Tony loved as well, something very gracious and modest only men with old souls have, and he could still spot it now by how Steve ducked his head then as it did years ago. His younger self shined through his actions and it was more than endearing.

"Well, didn't do me much good back then after all, when I... There's really no nice way of phrasing this, when I left you on Prom, " Steve winced, eyes soft and apologetic. "Still sorry about that, by the way. "

"It was a dick move, " Bucky nodded. "Natasha beat his ass for it, if it's any consolation."

Tony sighed in the inside, anticipating this moment. He would've been more affected, probably, if that hadn't been the precise motivation that lead to him attending the event. He never had the chance to question Steve's change of heart as he enlisted as soon as he could, without as much as a peek back and no word of goodbye for Tony.

It had hurt terribly, back then, when he was young and deadset on letting the anger stew in him, but as the years stacked on top of each other he learned to move on, and the little grudge he held for his high school sweetheart turned into a curiosity, declining from a stab of pain to a subdued aching.

His feelings for Steve remained as strong as they were since the blonde asked him on their first date, which, he realized was more than pitiful, still harboring emotions for something as little as High School romance, for someone who most likely moved on.

But he needed to know, even when knowing it wouldn't do much to squash the crush that gradually blossomed into something... More. On his part, at least.

Tony forced a smile on his lips and shrugged, taking his hands back so he could play with the warm amber of his whiskey glass, promptly ignoring the saddened shade taking home in Steve's look. "No hard feelings, Captain Crunch. If I wasn't trapped in this objectively hot body, I'd ditch myself too."

The air felt heavier somehow, an imaginary weight falling over them, even with the faux chipper in Tony's joke. Rhodey must have taken notice because he grabbed Bucky's arm, excusing them to the bathroom. Not before he looked directly at Steve and did a slit motion across his throat using his thumb, making Tony snort.

Quietly, Steve took the smaller man's hands into his own, lacing their fingers together. Tony gasped slightly at the tender gesture, but didn't pull back or encouraged Steve to let him go. Steve took that as permission to go on.

"First of all, " Steve's voice took that firm edge it possessed back then, even with his weak lungs that gasped for breath after every P.E. class he was determined to attend because he refused to be left out. " don't talk about yourself that way. You know how much I hate it. Second of all, if I could punch my old self for making you think I wanted to ditch you, I would."

"He'd probably die because he would not hesitate to fight you, " a small smile graced Tony's lips, feeling more real than he felt comfortable with. "Can I just... Ask why? I mean, you don't owe me an explanation or anything, we were kids, it's not that big of a deal, but I mean... If I did something, I'd like to at least know.''

Steve sighed, his own smile sad and barely there. "Would you believe me if said I didn't show up because I couldn't fit into my Pa's suit?"

Tony giggled. '' You're still shit at lying. Steve, " his own tone softened slightly, squeezing Steve's large hands, rough skinned with callouses, but still comforting. "Just tell me."

"... I didn't wanna embarrass ya, " the confession left Tony flabbergasted. Blinking slowly, as if he just mishear something. His words failed him, but nodded, processing, giving Steve the Que. "Tony, you just... Ya were a big shot, you know? You were handsome, rich, smart, popular, everything everyone wanted to be.

Everyone had their eyes on you, your father, the school, the media. It was bad enough you were dating a guy, but being taken to prom by one who looked like me back then? It would've, it just, - it would've been humiliating. I couldn't do that to you. Not only was I a riff raff, I was too skinny, I was ugly, I was, -"

"You stop that right the hell now, Steven, " Tony growled, sharply, so sharp it made Steve shut his mouth with an audible click. "There wasn't and isn't even one ugly thing about you, do you understand me? Riff raff- Steve you had a job since you were 15! You helped paying bills even if you shouldn't have, because you wanted to help your parents. What's embarrassing about that? Do you really think I give a fuck about how much money you made?"

"Tony, - I've seen the people you dated after we graduated , " Steve sounded wounded as he said it. Tony wanted to kiss all his pain away as his life depended on it. "I could've never compete with that, - Hell, for some, I still couldn't compete. I was less than dust put next to them. "

"I didn't care!" He might have been a bit loud, because some heads were turned, yet quickly retreated after the death glare they received from the angry brunette.

"Steve. I liked you because you gave your food to the homeless in every lunch period, because you volunteered at canteens with your mom and because you kept on drawing me every day for 4 years. Because you were outspoken, and funny, and kind, and cared so much about other people. Because you treated me so damn well. These people that you mentioned, they didn't treat me half as good as you did. I didn't give a shit what the world had to say about it. Between the world and you, I pick you. I'll always pick you."

Steve listened. Steve nodded. And Steve cried. One trembling hand wiped at wet eyes, and Tony resisted the urge to take his hand back and press comforting pecks on it.

Inhaling and exhaling, Steve got a grip on himself, wet laugh puffing out. It made Tony's chest hurt. "God, I was such a fucking idiot, huh? I, - I knew you wouldn't care, I knew, but I still went ahead and - God, I'm so sorry sweetheart. " Laughter deeming, a pinched but guilty expression taking its place. " I... I at least hope Hammer treated you half right. It's more than I ever did, -"

"Wait wait wait. Wait. Back it up a bit, - Hammer? As in, Justin Hammer? Why would he have anything to do with this?" At Steve's blank expression, the wheels in Tony's head sped up, allowing him to connect the dots. "Steve... You know I never went to prom, right?"

Steve paused. "What?"

"I never went to prom. And even if I did, Hammer would be the last reject I'd pick from the toolbox. He tried, sure, but I told him the same thing I said to Howard. 'I'm going to Steve, or I'm not going at all. ' "

"But, - But, Hanmer told everyone that he took you to prom, that, - " Steve stopped mid-sentence, face wooden as if he only now got a very simple epiphany. He facepalmed. Hard. Tony was concerned he'd get brain damage. "I'll let Natasha shoot me. It should be illegal to be this dumb."

"Not dumb. Just taking your own pace, " Tony chuckled. "So... All this time, you didn't contact me because you thought I was with Hammer? " His nose wrinkled in disgust just thinking about it, an expression Steve mirrored.

"No. I was just? Too chickenshit to face you, after everything. Honestly, I thought you hated my guts, which, who could blame you, but... I couldn't have handled that. So I stayed away." A self-deprecating snort accompanied a shake of head. "Guess all these extra inches are wasted, huh?"

Tony thinks about Steve, with his frail fists drenched in blood from split knuckles, fighting back against bullies who thought they could walk all over him or others, with his loud voice battling ignorant, hateful ideas, against big foes and bigger, and he says: "You were tall back then, too."

Steve stares and says nothing for a prolonged moment, content to look at Tony as if he's falling in love all over again. It makes Tony hopeful, fills him with something warm he didn't think he'd want to indulge again.

He's building up nerve, Tony can see that much, and right when he thinks he'd lose it, that they'd part again, Steve pulled him against his chest and pressed light kisses on top of Tony's head. It felt like pieces of love. "We're going to go on a date, " Steve murmured, voice hoarse. " and I'm going to give you the night I should've given you years ago. I'll give you the fairy tale, baby."

Tony smiles in the chest, nose taking in the scent he missed so much, listens to the heartbeat whose pattern he could still remember, still knows as well as his mind. " You get the story. Leave the happy ending to me."

The kiss they shared was shy, and timid, and felt too young, but it was just right for them.

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

remember when devin grayson wrote about green arrow flirting with teenager dick grayson and then bruce and dick have an incestuous relationship............................

Listen, I have no idea what this ask says, I just see a string of random letters followed by dot dot dot.

In completely unrelated matters, the only dynamic between Dick and Ollie I abide by is one where the nicest thing Dick’s ever said to Ollie is something like “hey why does your face look like you killed a squirrel and glued it to your chin, is that what you were going for or do people just not like you and so nobody ever told you til now that that’s what it looks like.”

And even there, that’s still just the best Dick could manage (or was willing to even aim for) after Bruce gave Dick a totally and one hundred percent genuine and sincere Talking To about how he needed to be more polite to Ollie. Cuz the way I envision it, all that’s after Dick initially opened with something like, idk, “hey wanna hear a funny joke, it goes “what do you call a known Errol Flynn fanboy who thinks putting on a domino mask when he fights crime with a bow and arrow like, magically makes his goatee invisible? A dumbass who doesn’t get how secret identities work, that’s what. Get it, its you, you’re the joke.”

LOL for the record, I don’t actually hate Ollie and have no really strong opinions on him one way or another, it usually just depends on how he’s being written in whatever story or issue I’m reading with him. Its just canon that Ollie is like, one of the few people that Dick just openly can not stand, pretty much, with this stretching back far enough that personally, I like to headcanon it goes all the way back to even before Ollie took Roy in and has absolutely nothing to do with Roy whatsoever.

Idk, its just really fucking funny to me to picture that like, for whatever reason, ten year old Dick Grayson decided upon meeting the Justice League that they were all awesome except for Oliver Queen. Dick doesn’t know why, he doesn’t care why, he just knows that like, “I do not care for that Oliver Queen guy, not one bit, and no, I am not open to constructive criticism on this matter, UGH BRUCE STOP TELLING ME I SHOULD AT LEAST TRY AND BE NICER TO HIM, I SAID HE WAS A BUTTFACE AND I MEANT IT, WHERE’S THE CONFUSION.”

Because see, while Ollie is not Actually The Worst, he IS one of the League heroes who is prideful and petty enough to like, absolutely take offense to someone hating his guts for no discernible reason, while considering this more than reason enough to hate their guts right back. Even if that particular someone happens to have both miles and years left to go before they hit either puberty or the top side of five feet tall, and thus in the meanwhile, Ollie must literally lower himself in every sense of the word in order to return fire at his pint-sized and prepubescent critic.

Like, if Dick for whatever reason decided he just doesn’t like Superman or the Flash and he’s not gonna and you can’t make him, then I mean, Clark or Barry or someone else along those lines would just be like, oh, okay, that’s fair I guess. No, its totally fine Bruce, the adorable little human incarnation of glitter, cotton candy and all things Cute and Precious and Wee that you just took in is allowed to hate me if he wants to, its absolutely *wheezing sob* not a big deal. I’m a big boy, I don’t need you to intercede on my behalf with him. Now if anyone needs me, I’ll be wallowing in my room for the next 84 years, trying to figure out if I was some kind of monstrous puppy-kicker in a previous lifetime and that’s why my fate here in this one is to be despised by a ten year old with the superpower of Absolute Preciousness. Its my punishment, clearly, for being just the worst kind of monster to ever exist, the only kind that could actually be hated by someone like your adorable little Fun-Sized sidekick of joy and sunshine and l-l-laughter......no, don’t look at me, I’m hideous! *bursts into tears and scurries away to hide from the light*

But see now, Ollie, on the other hand, like.....he’s not a monster but he’s not about to let even some paragon of preciousness go around painting him as one. Why the fuck does he spend so much money on publicists if he’s just gonna roll over belly-side up the first time one of the people bad-mouthing him just happens to be like, a toddler instead of the usual TMZ?

So Ollie’s not about to admit that he’s actually miffed and even a little bit wounded that this cherub who seems to like even most supervillains more than he likes Ollie, just like, can not seem to be in his presence longer than sixty seconds before drawing his weapons and stabbing Ollie with words that hurt, dammit, because he has feelings too, y’know, he spent a lot of money on pricey therapists figuring out that yes, those are feelings he’s feeling and he can even name some of them.....

Like, he’s not quite on board with actually ACKNOWLEDGING that hey this stings, and that he really just wants to know what the hell this kid’s deal is and why don’t you like me, tiny human, what did I ever even do to you??? But all of that is like......Advanced Level Therapy stuff that he hasn’t quite gotten around to finishing yet at this point in time. Like yeah he’s already dropped a mint on the A-list of the head-shrinking world by now, but apparently he was supposed to keep coming back or something like that, they all keep making a really big deal about that for some reason, and look, he’s been busy. So he really just hasn’t had the time to finish up the course on How To Make Peace With the Fact That Sometimes Tiny Humans Don’t Like Me Even Though I’m A Fucking Delight, Dammit.

But even if the why of this kid getting under his skin so much eludes him for the nonce, Ollie is perfectly clear on one thing: he doesn’t typically go around making enemies of the twelve and under set, but if you prick him, he doth in fact bleed, you little prick. So if this knee-high nightmare is gonna keep coming at me and trying to start shit, then I am more than willing to throw down, is basically Ollie’s take here.

“He wants to dance? Then c’mon, let’s do this thing. We can dance if he wants to. I’ve got the time,” Ollie says to himself and any other nearby Justice Leaguer who might be looking at him with that swiftly-becoming-familiar expression of mingled judgment, pity, exasperation and something a bit more ambiguous but which probably lands somewhere in the ballpark of “We honestly don’t know what to make of all of this but we’re all a little concerned This Is Not A Good Look, Bro. And also, we would like to formally request by way of this petition with all 200+ signatures of Leaguers and auxiliary members and support staff: please don’t escalate this into something where Batman might actually kill you, because that’s definitely not gonna make any of this less awkward for the rest of us, and uh....not to be indelicate here, but all those times we’ve all said things like no Ollie, we don’t think Bruce is a better fighter than you and we absolutely agree with you, you could totally maybe take him in a fair fight if you had your bow and arrows on you and he had the flu probably.....like. Umm. How to put this....Okay, soooooo....here’s the thing. There may, perhaps, ever so slightly be a possibility slash definite hardcore certainty that there were fib-like qualities to those conversations. A little bit. Oh hey, look at the time, we gotta run, there’s a fire somewhere, hopefully. Lol wait whoops did we say hopefully, that’s so weird like where did that even come from. We definitely meant to say probably. There’s a fire somewhere, probably."

But look, at the end of the day, the thing is, Headcanon Ollie is not like, proud of any of this, but he’s not unproud of it either. He is hashtag justified and he wouold appreciate some validation of that Ugly Truth, even if it might go against the grain and not ever exactly be a POPULAR opinion with the “please don’t tell the ten year old that nuh uh, his face looks like a hairy butthole, nobody wins there, that is not the victory you are looking for” crowd.

Honestly though, at this point Ollie’s list of Big Asks is quite small. Miniscule, even. All he wants, all he really really wants, is for someone, anyone, to join him in grasping the one essential corn kernel at the heart of this whole clusterfuck. The thing that nobody but Ollie seems to get and that Ollie’s pretty sure would be enough to allow him to die happily, if he could just manage to find one other person to sign on to the one single extremely obvious observation he keeps trying to point out to everyone, with a whole lot of nada to show for it:

Because see, the one thing about all of this that drives Ollie just absolutely up a wall, is that for some reason he can’t seem to get anyone to understand that like.....this whoooooole ridiculous mess, just like, even in terms of its very existence in the first place?

None of it is Ollie’s fault.

Dick started it!

Mere moments after frustratedly trying to convey this to Dinah for the umpteenth million bajillionth time:

“Okay, could you at least say something?” Ollie asked exasperatedly. “Anything? Seriously, I would take you counting to ten in Cantonese as an acceptable response at this point.”

“I’m just trying to decide which concerns me more,” Dinah said at last. Several epochs and the equivalent of the entire Jurassic Period later. But whatever, its not like Ollie was holding his breath at this point or anything. “The fact that you are genuinely trying to find and occupy the moral high ground in your feud with....a ten year old. Or that you actually think you’ve found it. That this is it, this is what that looks like. ‘The ten year old started it.’”

That was apparently all Dinah had to say. She fell silent again, and said silence lingered through a recreation of now the entire Cretaceous Period, before continuing into a revival of the whole Paleozoic Era from start to torturous finish.

“Well?” Ollie said with a patience that belied the urgency of the many pressing matters he had to attend to. Like the vanquishing of a ten year old archnemesis most foul.

Dinah just continued to frown pensively.

“Hang on, I’m still deciding.”

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missingartist · 4 years

Text

The Witchers Mate- Chapter 2

Brightwater was a large town hanging upon the end of the coast, surrounded by an impenetrable forest, a solid defence from the raging war. Yet, the quaint town nestled a busy port that never slept bringing new trader at every hour possible and with it more money and new faces. That was till the attacks started. At first, they were few a far between, a stray villager wandering off in the forest ripped apart by a bear, a dock worker having to be butchered by bandits in the dead of night, a couple of merchants devoured by a pack of wolves. The excuses came in thick and fast; people did not know what to believe. A monster was within the only thing that could attack in the dead of night before slipping back into the darkness unseen. In the last month, 13 people had been attacked at the claws of the creature. Men, women and children, the thing held no prejudiced, it disembowelled any that crossed its path without care or mercy. Even in the light of day, people seemed to hover in the doorways on their houses as they watched their children play, fear ever-present in their mind.

Though the mass of houses and business Adva stared out from a crooked window as she watched children play on the cobbled stones. Bone knuckles seemed to be a favourite, as they giggled on the patch of mud that they had drawn a pitch, they seemed so carefree and light-hearted in the face of so much death, an element that Adva had become far too familiar with. A pained groan broke her thoughts, turning a young girl coughed and spluttered her way to consciousness. The child was one of the latest victims, found barely alive among her family, a father and a heavy pregnancy mother. Adva cooed and shhhhed as the girl began to struggle against the grips of the healing spell. A pale, freckled thing with stringy red hair that looked more like a doll than a child, she hadn’t moved in 3 days since she was bought to the healer’s hut in the dead of night. The victim’s blood was tainted with some toxin, seeping into every cell and draining their energy, teetering them on the edge of death. Adva had filled the room with the heavy incense of rosemary and nettles that burned wildly behind her, a bitter and unpleasant smell, but a necessary one to purify the blood and the body. The damage to the tiny body had been significant- three deep gashes on the side of her body, but they were clean and smooth, easy to bind and tend. The man on the bed next to the small child had not been so lucky; his back had been ripped apart, jiggered and raw. It had taken all three of healers to rescue the man from the grips of death. It took several minutes to calm the child and redress the bandages before Adva tucked her tenderly into the bed.

Sighing, Adva pulled herself up and over to the water butt next to the door and ladle the cold water into her parched mouth.

‘Adva!!!! Vivian sent me to get you! The Witcher arrived! Exciting, isn’t it?’ a bright-eyed woman squicked, sending the wooden ladle clattering to the floor. Adva harshly shushed the women as she pulled the shutter across the makeshift sleeping quarters. Originally, the healer’s hut was abandoned for most of the year, used when a bout of fever or illness passed through which was few and far between. When the devil arrived at their door, the city was not prepared, no official healer and no stock of potions, tinctures or bandages. The people of Brightwater went to either Cersi or Tradi for their aliments, those who could not afford them went to Adva. The hut was now depleted and not fit to house the injured citizen and certainly not with a shrill woman bursting in on her.

‘Very… the sooner this thing is sent back to whatever hole it crawled out of but keep your voice down. It has been a hard night; you wake them, you will kill them.’ Adva scolded lightly.

Nesta of Perth was a good-hearted woman but one too fond of gin and pleasure of men, well as long as they gave her the fee of course. By the smell of it she had already been at the bottle, and the state of hair suggested that she had already been at her other vice. Once upon a time, she had been the daughter of a noble but upon finding the pleasure of the flesh, her life had taken a different turning from the expectation of being a wife and mother. Now she was a whore and a harlot, but a very well paid one at that. Nesta beauty was stunning, a pixie nose on a heart-shaped face, intense green eyes framed by feathered lash toped of the layered locks of mahogany hair. She looked younger than her years, could easily pass for a blushing virgin of 16, her body slender and firm with large breast openly on display in a tight corset dress of fine satin.

‘If they can sleep peacefully through Tradi’s righteous rants and monologues they can sleep through me, getting a little bit excited about this devilishly handsome Witcher. Bela saw him going into the Lord's manor, says he looks like a god, tall and broad. Exactly my type. Let's go see him together.’ Nesta pleaded with an adorable look on her face as she clutched at of Adva’s hands.

‘Anything that breaths is your type. I can’t leave…I need to make sure they are okay.’ The healer spoke softly.

‘It won’t do. Vivian has ordered me to bring you. The Witcher is to stay at the Tavern; I think the Lord doesn’t want any funny business so had paid for everything, even ourselves, Viv need you back… she was angry you weren’t back last night, she wants all of us ready and waiting. I, for one, will only be too happy to supply it, I’m sure he might even be persuaded to have a nibble at you, god knows you can use the coin, I don’t know how you live. Working as a maid, singing and healing are never going to make you have a comfortable life. Why not let Viv auction off your virginity, she might even get that Witcher to buy it, I'm sure he needs to be entertained.’

‘Speak for yourself, if he wants to be entertained, he can do it with the girls that are already there. I have told you and Viv before. Besides I cannot leave, there will be no one to look after them.’ Adva rolled her eyes at her friend, gods she loved her, but they wouldn’t be more different. Nesta sort out the intention of men and Adva avoided them.

The Mahogany whore rolled her eyes and wandered over a large chest of draws and settled upon it, skirts riding immorally high. ‘I thought Tradi was supposed to be taking over from you? How come you still here?’

‘He didn’t turn up, but his only a day late. You know how he doesn’t like to be pulled away from his crafting.’ Adva laughed as she watched her friend dangle her to fit in the air, like the child who watched their mother flit around her kitchen.

‘Well, then it lucky for you Cersi was in the town centre with Viv. She sent Tradi off with a flea in his ear; I saw him matching across the square with a sour expression on his face, not that he has any other expression…’ Nesta laughed, and Adva could not help but join in. Tradi was an unbearable ponce but good at his craft which made him bearable, especially to the recent violent epidemic.

Their merriment was cut short when the door burst open, and a man appeared at the door. A deep stubble graced his face giving him a defined look; some would call him handsome, other beautiful but it was hard to take in his exquisite feature with an ugly look of annoyance that stained his face. Once a prominent sorcerer at the court of powerful kings but no reduced to being a simple town mage, cast off from the guild. Tradi didn’t acknowledge them but marched pas and ripped open the shutters.

‘I take it from Cersi insistent demand that I come a relieve you; you have managed to kill someone. Can we not leave you alone for more than a day before you go running for help. No wonder Lord Fagen refused to send you to Lodge of Sorceresses.’

Adva glanced at Nesta who gave a silent snort as she hopped off the draws and straightened her skirts before grabbing a corse grey cloak and slipping it around the healer's shoulders and raising the hooded against the bitter weather outside.

‘It was soooo nice of you to come and relieve Adva, even though it's your dicking turn, so graceful of you.’ Nesta snapped sarcastically, weaving the healer to the door, ignoring the mages murderous gaze.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Nesta walked through the streets of the town, dirt had already covered an inch of her new embroidered dress, as she jumped over a rather large muddy puddle she observed her friend as Adva tugged her grey cloak tighter around her body. It was a shame that she didn’t want to become one of the girls at the tavern, Adva reminded her of the old pictures that her father would collect, classically beautiful, ethereal, Vivien would joke that if one was to look too deeply into Adva eyes, they would drown in the limpid pool lost forever. It was a tale the madam would purr into the ear of travelling merchant to entice them to relieve their pockets of the coin, Sirens of Brightwater she would call them, for Adva she wondered if that was true. Often, late at night, when the toil of the day was done, men snoring safely upstair, balls empty and stomachs full, Nesta would trot downstairs for a nightcap and her and the other girls would sometimes keep Adva company as she tended to positions or prepared balm and ointments for the customers of the tavern. In those nights sometimes she found herself staring into Adva’s eyes finding herself lost, waking only when the spell lifted. Sometimes time she would be talking to the group in the kitchen then find herself in her room, standing in darkness with no idea how she got there and not a drop of gin had passed her lips.

The tavern whore dodged a pie seller as he barged through her calling his wares, the city centre had never seemed so busy, families lined up the street and women leaned out of windows, even the respectable ones seem to be dangerously dangling their assets for all the world to see, Nesta was sure that word of the Witcher rugged good looks would spread fast. For the most part, Adva seemed to be unaware, her hood shielded most of her vision, but something hung heavy in the air, and it was not the pies, something different, an earthy smell, spiced with something Adva could not put her finger on. The young healer followed her friend as she marched with determination through the thickening crowd. With a sigh of relief, Adva pushed her way through to Cersi who stood a fair distance from the podium; she was smiling up at the stand, a genuine smile then lit up her face, a shine that was on equal to the diamonds that adorned her neck.

‘Adva! I am glad to see Tradi final relieved you of your post. Vivian has been frantic with a need for your tender manner. It seems Vivian isn’t as good a cook like you, my dear.’ Cersi beamed as she held her hand out in a greeting.

Adva could not help but smile up at the woman; she had an infectious good nature. But there was an odd edge in her eyes, a deep concern with an unwavering gaze but her curiosity was diverted by Vivian the raven heard temptress.

‘And why should I be? I have made my way in life on my back in the bedroom, not on my feet in the kitchen.’ Vivian bite out appeared through the crowd and standing next to her. ‘Once this wretched place gets of that… thing, the order will be restored and business as usual. How are you, Adva? You look tired.’ Vivian asked tenderly. ‘Soon you’ll be back with us, might even help take some coin from the Witcher.’

Vivian was a middle-aged woman, the bloom of youth had withered and died long ago, but still, she was considered a handsome woman. The fine lines that were carved into her face had not detracted from her beauty. Always wrapped in corn gold cotton, hair curled and placed into an elegant top do — a mother figure to the girls but a first and foremost a businesswoman.

Adva smiled at the women before observing the crowd who were captivated by the podium, nudging each other and whispering, eyes darted toward the wooden structure in the middle of the square. Fagen Brightwater looked on at the crowd, while one of his guards whispered in his ear. Adva eyes glided over to the bulking figure next to the lord; he was clearly several inches taller than the rest of the men, a set of broad shoulders and muscles that strained against leather amour and fitted tight against his body. Tanned skin glowed against the dull figure flowing hair of purest white and glowing amber eyes. A violent vibration took over her mind, and an immense pressure gathered at the bridge of her nose, the feeling overwhelmed her sense to the point she was only slightly aware that Lord Fagen had begun to address the crowd.

Blinking rapidly Adva tried to clear her mind of the dense fog that seems to decent upon her, in slow motion, her eyes followed his eyes as they scanned the hoard of villages with an intense gaze. Pulling her hood down, Adva’s could now see the full figure of the Witcher, as soon as the hood fell the golden orb zeroed in on her as he inhaled deeply, his chest rolling primally. The penetrating scrutiny of the Witcher’s stare forced the curly-haired healer to cast her eyes downward. There was a heavy air that surrounded her that made her dizzy; she felt drunk; her body felt light and lethargic.

‘Adva…. Adva’ a voice called in the distance.

Raising her vibrant aquamarine eyes, they meet the warm brown of Vivian’s eyes. ‘Gods she is dead on her feet. Nesta takes her back to the tavern. Get her to bed straight away. No arguing, she needs to be at her best, the Witcher will be at work tonight, we best be prepared.’

Nesta looked at her friend with a critical eye, she looked half-stunned, it surprised everyone when she led the girl away without any defiance, Adva was too dazed to argue and let herself be led through the crowd without a sound or a glance back at the golden orbs.

‘Interesting.’ Cersi cooed as she continues to watch the Lord give his rousing speech about unity and the promise of the swift and bloody revenge at the hand of Geralt of Rivia, who remained stoic and deep in thought, but the tell-tell signs of deep shock where his wide eyes as he looked on ignoring the confused annoyance of his companion.

‘Interesting? More annoying…Curse that Tradi, if he had followed the agreement Adva wouldn’t be so frazzled she looks like she had been run over by a cart. Look I need to get back, sort this shit storm out, can you keep the Witcher entertain for a couple of hours, take him to the healer's hut, take him to the armoury, take him to the god damn beauty parlour if need be, just keep him out the way till I sort out this shit show.’ Vivian growled as she marched off after the girls.

Cersi rolled her eyes at the furious madam’s panic and continued to watch the Lord's epic speech that finished with a flourish. The crowd cheered and applauded and departed happily singing out their praise and love for the Witcher and Fagen, even the chorus of Toss a Coin to Your Witcher could be heard as the peasants made their way to their home in preparation for the night to come. A night of barring their windows and hiding under the tables.

‘Ahhhh Geralt. Long-time no sees. We have much to discuss.’ Cersi purred brushing invisible threads of her cuff as she smiled at her old friend.

‘Hmmm’

‘Hello pretty lady. I am Jaskier, Geralt’s personal bard. Can I interest you in a drink?’

#geralt reader #geralt x oc #geralt smut #geralt x reader #henry cavill #witcher netflix #the witcher

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bimbopossum · 5 years

Text

i know it’s hard to tell (but i think i really like you)

pairing: riche tozier/eddie kaspbrak

warnings: swearing (i think) + a few gross jokes

word count: 3383

summary: In an attempt to fight his feelings for Richie, Eddie makes a list of everything he doesn't like about him. And then, unknowingly, Richie spends a week proving every single one of them wrong.

read on ao3!

“I don’t like Richie,” Eddie says, out loud. He’s alone in his room, and he’s talking to no one in particular. In all honesty, the only person he needs to convince of that fact is himself; no one else would even dare to ask.

“I don’t like Richie,” he says again, louder this time. He stands from his desk chair, and walks to the chalkboard hanging on his wall.

“I don’t like Richie,” he repeats once more. He picks up a piece of chalk and brings it to the board, his hand hovering. He writes.

I don’t like Richie.

It doesn’t feel like enough. He makes a fist and rubs off the words with the side of his hand. He writes again.

WHY I don’t like Richie:

And, well. He makes a list. It comes easily, because frankly, Richie is the worst. He’s crass, and crude, and he’s a boy; he’s the exact opposite of what Eddie would consider “his type.” There’s no way he could ever, ever like anyone like Richie.

1. He’s gross.

Eddie thinks back to the time, the very same day, when Richie ran up to him, tackling him in a bear hug. The gesture was sweet, and Eddie’s first reaction was in the form of his stomach swooping to his feet. That was, until he caught a whiff of the taller boy’s armpit.

“Oh my god, Richie! You stink!” He had yelled, pushing him away.

The sentence on the chalkboard is punctuated with a nod from the small boy who wrote it. Yeah. Richie is gross. He doesn’t even wear deodorant.

2. His jokes.

The worst offense in this category was a few weeks ago, on a class trip to the zoo. Eddie was mesmerized by the elephants. He watched the giant, gentle creatures in awe and therefore, fell for the trap that was Richie’s question.

“Hey Eds, what do you do when you come across an elephant?”

Snapping out of his daze, Eddie turned to the boy.

“Huh?” He said.

The instant regret filled his mind as he saw a smug smile make its way onto Richie’s face.

“Apologize and wipe it off.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, the sound of Eddie’s hand smacking the skin of Richie’s arm, and a cry of “oh my god, that’s not even funny! you’re so fucking gross.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the memory. It’s still a horrible joke, and a completely valid reason to put on his chalkboard.

3. He’s not cute.

Eddie knows it’s harsh, but c’mon. He knows he’s right. His mind fills with gangly limbs, and broken glasses pieced back together with white tape, and hawaiian shirts with colorful shorts that don’t match and big, stinky feet covered in patterned socks that kick him whenever they can and yeah. Richie is not cute. His hair flies around his face and his eyes always look far too big because of his glasses. He’s not cute, even for a boy.

4. He doesn’t take anything seriously.

There’s too many examples for this one. Every time Eddie is sad and Richie makes some comment about fucking his mom, every time Stan is talking about birds and Richie interrupts him to ask “what kind of bird gives the best head,” every time Bill is stuttering and Richie makes fun of him even though it’s clear that he’s struggling. Richie is always toomuchtoomuchtoomuch and notknowingwhentostop.

And that’s why Eddie does not like him.

The next day, the Losers meet up at the arcade, and Eddie’s holding out on the hope that he’ll convince someone to get ice cream with him. He’s the last one to show up, and when Richie spots him heading their way, he immediately barrels toward Eddie to engulf him in another bear hug. Eddie’s chest rushes with blood as the tall boy holds onto him, and he wrinkles his nose in anticipation for the stench of his armpits. But it doesn’t come.

“Are you…” he trails off. Sniff. “Are you wearing deodorant?” Eddie asks, as Richie’s arms return to his side. Richie chuckles.

“I figured it was time I get a new signature scent. Whaddya think?” He asks. He even goes as far to lift his arm and offer the smell to Eddie’s unsuspecting nose. To his own surprise, Eddie actually takes another whiff. His face fills with color.

“Not bad,” he shrugs. Richie slings an arm around his shoulder, and Eddie can’t deny that it’s nice to not have to smell the boy’s B.O. as they walk.

Hours later, when the Losers have all returned home and Eddie and Richie have finished their ice cream (because of course Eddie was able to convince him), the small boy walks up to the chalkboard in his room and bashfully strikes a line through the first point on his list.

He’s gross.

“Hey Eds, wanna hear a joke?” Richie asks, in the same excitable way he always does—as if he’s a child looking for approval from an adult.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, I wanna keep studying, fuckface.”

The textbook on his lap is seemingly being used, but in reality, Eddie doesn’t know a word of what he’s read in the last 10 minutes. He honestly would like to hear a joke, even a horrible Richie joke; anything to distract him from covalent bonds. But he would never tell Richie that.

“C’mon, please? It’s really funny, I promise,” the boy pleads.

“You said that about the cannibal joke last week,” Eddie deadpans.

“That joke was hilarious!”

Eddie takes a deep breath, and immediately regrets even answering Richie’s question in the first place.

“The fact that you still think so is exactly why I don’t want to hear another one.”

“Please, Eds?” He begs, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. Eddie groans.

“God, fine! What is it?”

Richie’s face lights up, and it almost makes it worth the horrible joke Eddie’s about to hear.

“Apparently, every 52 seconds, someone in London is stabbed. Poor bastard.”

Eddie blinks. Then, as if surprising himself, a laugh bubbles out of his throat. He smacks a hand over his mouth, shocked that he actually found one of Richie’s jokes funny. Richie just stares as he laughs, just as surprised that he’s entertained. It’s a really simple joke, and it’s kind of dumb, but. It’s not about dicks or having sex with Sonia Kaspbrak and it’s… a little bit smart, at the same time, too? In a way that Richie never is. And it’s funny. Richie told a genuinely funny joke. As Eddie’s giggles die down, Richie has the most proud look on his face and he doesn’t even look smug about it at all. He just looks happy. And Eddie makes a mental note to laugh at more of his jokes now, even if they suck, if only so he can see that pleased little smile on the boy’s face again.

He also makes a mental note to strike through the second bullet point on his chalkboard when he gets home.

His jokes.

The next day, Eddie goes to meet the Losers in the front lot at school, like he does every other morning. The only person there so far is Ben, and they immediately fall into comfortable conversation. Eddie was always a bit awkward around Ben in the beginning, even though he couldn’t place his finger on why. Now, though, it’s like he’s been a part of the group forever.

They talk for a few minutes, while the others start to show up. Ten minutes pass, and the only person who hasn’t arrived yet is Richie. His conversation with Ben dies down, and he starts picking at a loose thread on his shorts to pass the time. After another moment, he hears a shout from beside him, and feels the weight of a body plopping down on the bench next to him.

“Good morning, Spaghetti!” Richie says. Eddie lazily moves his gaze to the boy sitting next to him, as if to seem unamused, but his breath catches as soon as he sees him.

Richie is just beaming at him, in the way he always does, as if there’s nothing different. Nothing changed, nothing new, nothing to make Eddie’s heart literally jump to his throat at the sight of him.

“You, um…” Eddie breathes. He clears his throat and attempts to make his voice as even as possible. “You got new glasses,” he says, barely above a whisper. No one around them seems to be fazed by this development, but Eddie thinks he could die.

Richie smiles even wider. “I did! What do you think? My prescription changed so I decided to trade the old frames in for a younger model,” he says. He reaches behind his ears and presses on the legs of the glasses, making them move up and down on his face.

These new glasses—they’re thinner, more rounded instead of square. They’re still a bit big for Richie’s face, but in a way that suits his features as opposed to swallowing them. The most drastic change, Eddie thinks, is how much older Richie looks in them. There’s no tape holding them together, and they frame his face in a way that makes his brow look stronger, and his nose a bit thinner. He looks good.

“They’re…cool. I like them,” he chokes out.

And, if all this wasn’t enough kindling for the “torturing Eddie” fire, the first bell rings at this moment, causing Richie to stand from the bench. Eddie catches a good look at what he’s wearing for the first time, and his mouth goes dry. A dark green t-shirt is tucked into a pair of light jeans that sit high on Richie’s waist. The bottoms are cuffed, showing his thin ankles, where a pair of colorful socks peek out of his sneakers. The drastic change from hawaiian shirts and cutoff shorts that fray at the bottom is enough to make Eddie’s knees weak.

Eddie thinks his intention is to ask a question, but when his mouth opens, all that comes out is a choked “clothes?”

Richie looks puzzled for a moment, until he looks down and registers what Eddie is saying.

“Oh! My cousin gave me some of his old clothes he doesn’t wear anymore,” he shrugs. All of the other Losers have left the area, making their way to their first classes, but Eddie stays on the bench for another moment, catching his breath and attempting to collect his thoughts.

Oh my god, he thinks. I was so, so wrong.

He’s not cute.

Eddie doesn’t cry often. You’d think he would—he’s always been kind of sensitive, the kind of boy who doesn’t complain when the class is reading Romeo and Juliet because he secretly really enjoys it. He’s sensitive, but he makes a point of not crying as much as would be expected of him. He’s not weak willed, and he’s not a crybaby. There’s a difference.

But everyone cries sometimes, right?

It was his mom. He came home late from studying with Bev and Sonia got mad. She must have screamed for 20 minutes straight. The loud, shrill tone of her voice combined with the harsh words she was spitting just cut into Eddie like a hot knife—not to mention the mean things she was saying about Bev. When Sonia was done with her attack, and convinced by the look on Eddie’s face that he wouldn’t do such a thing again, she sent him to his room without letting him get a word in. Which was for the best, because no matter how much he wanted to explode at her, and say all the things he’s been wanting to say for years, he knows that if given the chance, he’d freeze. Mouth closed and chest tight, he’d mutter out “I’m sorry, Mommy,” and do as he’s told. He thinks that’s part of why he’s crying.

He can’t be very loud, or his mom will hear, so his face is pressed into a pillow as he sobs. He guesses that this is all the tears he’s held in for however long it’s been, and now that the gates are open it’s hard to stop.

He doesn’t hear the first tap. The second one is a bit louder, enough for the noise to register in his mind but not enough for him to realize someone is trying to get his attention. The third one is a loud rapping, clearly on his window. He snaps his head up to see Richie, leaning his lanky body as far as it will go off of the tree next to his bedroom window. Eddie quickly wipes his face, as if there was any chance in hiding what he was just doing. He scrambles over to the window and opens it.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice thick with tears.

Richie’s brows are furrowed. “Let me in,” he says softly.

Eddie doesn’t have it in him to protest. And besides, the boy is literally about to fall out of the tree. He opens the latch more, to make a space large enough for Richie to fit through without getting squished. He eventually stumbles in, landing on his feet with whatever the opposite of grace is. His eyes are immediately filled with concern.

“What’s wrong, why are you crying?” He asks, putting a hand on Eddie’s arm.

“It was just my mom, it’s whatever,” Eddie sniffs. “Why are you here?”

Richie hesitates. “Bev called. She said you left a binder at her house so she called here and your mom answered…and that someone should check to see if you were okay.”

Eddie cringes. “So my mom yelled at her?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

Richie doesn’t respond, but the silence is answer enough. Eddie feels tears start to burn behind his eyes again, and he squeezes them shut before they can fall. His fists press into the sockets of his eyes, willing himself to not cry in front of Richie. But he takes a deep breath in, and on the exhale, his body lets out a strangled sob against his own will.

He immediately feels Richie’s arms wrap around him, and the light pressure of being pushed towards his bed. As he sits down, he lets himself fall into Richie, shaking and crying as hard as he ever has. The tears are falling freely, now, not being pushed in by his fists or his own mind. And it feels a lot better to cry into Richie’s chest than it did to cry into his pillow. He curls into himself, forming a ball as he’s rocked by the boy holding him. One of Richie’s hands is in his hair, petting his head. The other is rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion. There’s a quiet whisper, too. In a hushed voice, Richie is repeating himself over and over.

“Shh,” he says. “It’ll be okay. You’re okay.”

Soon after Eddie registers these words, his tears are slowing down. His hands stop shaking as fiercely, and his breathing evens out just a little bit more. Once his state of mind is regained, he can’t help but feel embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling himself out of Richie’s arms. Richie lets him go, but he keeps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb up and down on the boy’s collarbone absently.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, keeping his gaze on Eddie’s face even as the other avoids his eye.

Eddie sniffles, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Richie probes.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s nothing, I just-“ he cuts himself off as he feels a lump form in his throat once more. “I really hate my mom sometimes.”

Richie nods sympathetically and pulls Eddie into his chest again. He presses his cheek to the top of Eddie’s curls, and for a moment, they just breathe together. After a few minutes of this, Richie breaks the silence.

“Look, Eds, about your mom,” he says, pulling back to look at Eddie’s face.

Eddie exhales sharply through his nose. “I really don’t wanna hear an ‘I fucked your mom’ joke right now, Rich,” he mumbles.

Richie is stunned quiet for just a second. “I wasn’t going to make one.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh.”

“I was just gonna say that I’m sorry, and that she shouldn’t treat you that way. It’s shitty.”

Eddie almost cries again. Not because he’s upset about his mom this time, but because this is Richie. Richie is sitting in front of him, being honest, and genuine, and not making any jokes at Eddie’s expense and holding him when he’s sad and Eddie could just about die. Because god, he likes Richie so, so much. And now, Richie is just staring at him, holding his arm so gently it’s like he thinks he’ll break it if he’s too firm, and Eddie can’t help the words that tumble out of his mouth.

“I wanna show you something,” he says, standing up. He walks across the room, causing Richie to turn his body around completely, facing the chalkboard that had been previously (and conveniently) out of his view.

WHY I don’t like Richie:

1. He’s gross.

2. His jokes.

3. He’s not cute.

4. He doesn’t take anything seriously.

Richie’s eyes scan the words for a few seconds, and he gets up to join Eddie in front of the board.

His expression is unreadable as he stares, and every second that goes by without a word makes Eddie’s heart pound faster and faster.

Richie visibility swallows, and he brings his arms up to cross them in front of his chest.

“Wow, Eds,” he says, a weak smile on his lips. “This is…mean.”

It’s clear that he’s trying to seem unbothered, but it’s also clear that he is very, very bothered. Eddie picks up the piece of chalk underneath it and strikes a line through the last sentence.

He doesn’t take anything seriously.

Richie follows the movement with his eyes. He doesn’t uncross his arms.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I’m sorry.”

Richie just shrugs. “It’s whatever,” he murmurs. “I’m kind of confused. But it’s fine.”

Eddie’s face looks pained, like Richie’s words are physically harmful to him. “I just. I tried so hard to convince myself that I…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely.

“But I was wrong,” he continues, his voice a bit stronger. “That’s why they’re all crossed out. You didn’t even know I made the list but you proved me wrong for every single one.”

Richie’s eyebrows raise minutely, and he uncrosses his arms in exchange for lifting a hand towards the board, in a question.

“Wait, when it says you don’t like me, that means-“

“Yeah,” Eddie cuts him off. “It means.”

Eddie thinks he must look terrified.

Richie turns to make searing eye contact with the boy next to him.

“But…you said you were wrong. So that means-“

“Yeah,” Eddie says, in a bit of a choked laugh. “That means, too.”

The look on Richie’s face is hard to read, but Eddie is hopeful, if only for the fact that Richie is still standing in front of him.

“Eds,” he whimpers. And before Eddie can even think to respond, Richie is pressing forward and closing their mouths together in a kiss. His hands come up to hold Eddie’s cheeks in his palms, and Eddie thinks he might explode.

Under their own volition, Eddie’s arms snake themselves around Richie’s neck, threading his fingers in dark curls as their lips move together. The kiss itself only lasts a few seconds, but when they pull away, Eddie is breathless.

They’re both quiet in the seconds after their lips part, neither knowing quite what to say or how to say it.

But, of course, Richie always knows how to break a silence.

“Would you mind erasing that list?” He says. Eddie laughs, and just nods his head, before untangling his hands from Richie’s hair and moving to grab the rag beside the board. Richie follows him, wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. He watches as Eddie erases the words on the board, maneuvering the rag around certain areas at the top, so all but 3 words are wiped clean.

I like Richie.

#reddie #richie x eddie #it #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #fanfic #my writing

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mommymooze · 3 years

Text

Bob

Bob-Original Character.

Warning: Crack (yes, I found crack!) vulgar, violent, bad humor, toasty cinnamonrolls Hubert abuse

Part 1

He confidently strides around the grounds of the Monastery like he owns the place. Noone dares to tell him he doesn’t. He’s always been curious, his quest for knowledge knows no bounds. That Riegan kid? An amateur next to him. The poisons and potions that boy comes up with? He made those before he was 9. Riegan is always bragging about Lysithia. Youngest girl to graduate from the School of Sorcery, she is such a prodigy, bla, bla, bla. He had graduated before his 10th birthday. His graduating thesis rewrote the book on transmogrification.

He doesn’t care for Claude practically sticking his tongue in Professor Byleth’s ear at every turn. Okay, so the doof hasn’t quite done that, but he can see that the guy really ‘breathily’ speaks in her ear, so he may as well be. Bob is not jealous. Byleth doesn’t interest him. Not in that way. He knows she’s the best choice for Professor for the Blue Lions. Golden Deer are too chaotic and disorganized. The Black Eagles are practically run by the Agarthans, unfortunately those idiots can’t see it. Besides, its easier to ‘fit in’ with the people of his ‘land’. He’s a noble, in the loosest sense of the word.

His fellow Blue Lions will follow Dimitri to hell and back. Little do they know that Dimitri already has one foot in hell. The guy is nuts. The things he talks about in his sleep, well, Bob’s seen people like that before. They have endured some really heavy shit and trauma. Usually it’s a one-way trip. Dimitri’s hanging on by a thin frayed thread and only Dedue is keeping him grounded. Looks like Professor Byleth is picking up on it. Saving Dedue’s life was the best thing that ever happened to Dimitri.

Now Sylvain, he got a rotten deal handed to him. Don’t blame him for his coping mechanism of getting back at the girls that are after him for his goods and not him. A bit self-destructive, but he does kind of enjoy it, until it goes south. Step in Ingrid, to save him. She’s such a knight in shining armor, rescuing princess Sylvain every time. Felix, he needs a complete emotional enema. He’s been blocked up since his brother died. His father’s been blocked up since his wife died. Felix locked down all of his feelings and emotions only letting out anger and hatred. Any time he has a feeling related to kindness or love, he beats it out of himself by training to death. Ashe, there is a sweet young man. A cinnamon roll through and through. He’s been through tough times and better times. You just can’t let harm come to a freaking ray of sunshine like him. Annette is definitely in the cinnamon rolls covered in sunshine category as well, even though her conception sperm donor is a dick. Daddy Gustav, ugh, Duscur screwed him in the head too. ‘I failed as a knight. I couldn’t protect them.’ So you dump your family, stick your thumb in your ass and watch Dimitri fall apart? Really? Yeah he super sucks as a father type thing. Mercedes is a fun girl. She’s seen some shit, yet she is so motherly to all the Lions. She is not one to give up, even on her loser psycho brother.

Bob is a model student. He watches the idiotic pranks that Sylvain pulls. Fart jokes? That is third grade stuff. They have the big mock battle between the classes in a few weeks. Bob catches the redhead getting turned down by Felix when he invites his bff to town to check out some girls. Bob just happens to be near the door when Sylvain exits.

“Hey man, heard you may be heading to town. Need a wingman?” Bob offers.

“Only if you buy the first round.” Sylvain grins.

They head out the front gates to the town on the other side of the woods. Talking about their favorite types of girls, Sylvain is ready to hit up anything in a skirt by the time they hit the closest drinking establishment. Half an ale gone and the redhead has found a couple of prospective tarts ready to take a bite out of. Bob takes a seat next to a young brunette cleric who shyly smiles as he sits. They chatter amicably, before the evening is over, he knows of her family, history, deity (not Sothis, gasp) how long she has done this, life’s dreams, battle experience, her strongest spells, affinities, favorite foods, shoe size and her birthday. Sylvain returns to the tavern a bit disheveled and a grin from ear to ear. Bob bids his little friend good night. Once he is finished suffering through the heavily detailed victorious encounter that the handsome cavalier has just experienced, Bob changes direction of the conversation to the redhead himself.

“Dude, why do you act like such a fuckup? Felix hits it right on the nose every time and you just crumble. You are much smarter than you lead everyone to believe. You hold back on your magic. You can handle a lance like nobody’s business. If you practiced some, get your speed up, you’d be deadly. What’s the deal?” Bob doesn’t exactly hold back.

“Look,” Sylvain whines, “I know I’m a fuckup. My father has my life lined up for me. He’ll pick out who I marry, I’m stuck watching over the Gautier territory, making crestbabies to grow up and wield the Lance of Ruin. My brother was fucked over by my father for not having a crest. I had to go out and kill him. My own brother. My whole life is so messed up, why should I even try?”

Bob leans over and whispers into the redhead’s ear. “Man, the winds of change are coming. This whole godessdamned world is going to be flipped upside down. Just when you think it can’t get any worse it does. It’s gonna be a mess. Then one day, there’s going to be a light in that darkness, and the world is tilted again. All the slates are going to be wiped clean and I intend on being there to rewrite it all. I just want you to come along for the ride, dude.”

Sylvain looks at Bob like he’s got two heads. “How much did you have to drink while I was gone? That is some crazy heavy shit. Whatever it was, you gotta buy me some next time.” He laughs as they get back to the monastery gates.

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

Bob quickly becomes bored with the highly censored library in the monastery and decides to find where the one is in Abyss. Besides, he hates the skinwalker librarian. The creep likes to hand out anti church of Seiros paraphernalia to anyone that would take one. Bob knew of Abyss long before he had ever arrived. He found out more information about Garreg Mach on the outside than on the inside. Once you go past the front gate, the church folks zip their lips shut. He sneaks around a few tunnels, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone nearby. Noting some footsteps slowly moving closer, he blends in with the walls. Two girls walk past, he’s just about to let them keep going, but he recognizes one of them.

“Hapi?” Bob softly gasps.

“Dipshit! Long time no see, jerk!” Hapi runs over and hugs him.

The taller blonde girl stands, waiting for a proper introduction.

“Oh, Coco, this is my friend, Dipshit. He helped get me out of the terrible place where, you know, those guys were.” Hapi says.

The noble woman offers her hand, “Constance Von Nuvelle. I am temporarily living here, however I strive to restore House Nuvelle to its finest glory.

Bob takes her hand, kissing the back of it, “I am very honored to make your acquaintance. How fortunate to meet such a beautiful woman as yourself in such an interesting location.”

Constance Nuvelle giggles at his introduction. Bob is all OMG she is so CUTE.

Hapi gives him the stink-eye “Aaanyyway, we should prolly take you to meet Yuribird. He’s the boss around here. “

So they meander over to the class room and meet Yuri. Tall, beautiful, with an air of mystery for kicks, Yuri greets the newcomer. “Any friend of Hapi’s is welcome.”

Bob explains his presence. “I’m not here to get in your business. Just wanted to check out your library. If I find anything useful to you, I know where to go with it. Mostly I am interested in all the crap that is going on topside.”

Yuri walks with him to the place where Seteth’s banished books have been stored. Bob tears into it like a man starved. Feeding on everything he can get his hands on.

Yuri decides to be sociable for a moment. “Whatcha looking for friend?”

Bob “the usual. Nabatheans, Agarthans, saints, Nemesis, relics, bloodlines, histories that may be a little closer to the truth than what they have upstairs. “

Yuri nods. “Sure. Have at it.”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything about the Crest of Aubin or the rest of you guys.” Bob offhandedly remarks looking through a few books.

Yuri starts cleaning under his nails with a particularly sharp dagger. “Funny, no one mentioned Crests, much less if anyone has one.”

“I can smell ‘em.” Bob says indifferently. “One of their experiments gone haywire. Hapi and I did time together. Ask her, she’s where I got my crest.”

“Have fun.” Yuri quips before heading out, stashing his dagger.

Bob is devouring this library. Opens every single book on every single shelf. Divides them into piles. Church, Magic, research, Agarthans, useful, and crap.

Encyclopedia of Fodlan’s Insects. Insects is what the Agarthans call Nabatheans. Winged bugs that need squashing. It also describes items forbidden by the church. These of course are things the Agarthans have used for centuries. Telescopes, viewing lenses, metal printing presses, decent condoms. Bob laughs out loud at the section on autopsies. Wouldn’t want you poking around inside someone’s head or chest. May accidentally find a crest stone or worse rattling around in there. Bob finishes sorting the upper levels of the Shadow Library. He hands a few books to Yuri to peruse, telling him to hang on to them, Bob would like a close look when he is done. Bob shuffles off with armful after armful of books, taking them to a quiet little nook that Yuri has permitted for him. Not much bigger than a closet, but its enough room to keep the books secure. Just as he’s on his last trips, who should happen to arrive at the library but Hubert von Vestra.

“Hey Bro, what the fuck you doin’ down here?” Bob impolitely and arrogantly asks.

“You. Why don’t you crawl back under your rock.” Hubert curses.

“Surprised to see you standing up. Usually you’re on all fours licking her high and mightynesses boots.” Bob shakes his head, getting his black and white bangs out of his eyes.

“Lady Edelgard deserves all of my praise and loyalty for everything she has been through. House Vestra shall always be at her service.” Hubert stiffly replies.

“Yeah, how’s that working out for you. She hasn’t been through half the shit I’ve been through. She’s barely holding it together. What’s fucking hilarious is she’s relying on you to help her keep it together. You still haven’t gotten over killing father. You should’ve let me know. I’d’ve done it in a heartbeat. Can’t wait till I can slit my beautiful mother’s throat and listen to her gurgling as the life flows from her.”

“He denounced you. You are not a Vestra.” The Black Eagle spits out.

Bob puts his hands on his hips. “Gimme a break. You and I are cut from the same mold. Same greasy black hair, at least I take care of mine. Same strong chin, handsome cheek bones, body structure. Hell we have the same color eyes from father. Just because I’m your half bro doesn’t mean I’m not part of your family. We’re both drawn to black and dark magic. We wield spells far above our fellow students. Just think of the things we could do together. “

“No. You are crude, undignified, unprodigious, and disgusting inside as well as out.” Hubert spits.

“We’re twins! I’m just the better looking one. Just ask anyone. You stand around like a starving vulture ready to pounce on everyone. Always looming and leering. That creepy guy intimidation thing only gets you so far. You need to work on your charm.” Bob schmoozes, moving closer to his half brother.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Hubert gives a disgusted frown and warps away.

“I love dicking with him. Fucking dickwad.” Bob laughs a deep and frightening laugh that scares some female out in the hallway who screams and runs away.

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

When Flayne goes missing, Bob becomes unhappy. She’s a sweet and innocent girl. Yeah, she’s got dragon blood and all that, but really she’s nice. Cinnamon roll nice. Too nice to be caught up in any Agarthan mess. And this kidnapping has Agarthan written all over it.

Bob shows up behind Hubert, smashing his face into a wall and nicking his half bro’s throat as he puts a dagger under his chin. “Tell her to call the Agarthan dogs back. Tell her how wrong it is to work with them. They are not your friends. The enemy of your enemy crap doesn’t work. They are only using you, not the other way around”

Hubert, bloody nosed from having it smashed into a wall mutters, “I will bring it up in our next conversation.”

“Yeah. Talk about it. All talk, no action.” Bob disappears through the wall. He materializes in the library behind Ashe.

“Ashe, take off your baseball cap.” The cool dark mage orders.

The grey haired cinnamon roll takes off his hat and sits very straight in the comfy chair in the library. He can feel the hand patting his head, then stroking his hair from the top of his head down to his neck.

“Good boy, you are a good boy Ashe.” Bob begins his mantra, praising and patting.

“Yes. I am a good boy.” Ashe repeats, closing his eyes.

Thirty minutes later Ashe is happily asleep curled up in the chair and Bob no longer has steam coming out of his ears. Bob looks around the library. Where is that Thomas creep anyway? Bob goes to the upper levels where Thomas’ desk is located. Pinned to the bulletin board is a cartoon of Rhea tied to a stake while they light a huge fire under her. A poster in Medieval script saying “Dragons must Die!!!” A stack of love poems devoted to Catherine, his forbidden love. And a large, oversized rubber stamp that says “DENIED”. But no sign of Thomas. Bob decides to pay the gatekeeper a visit. He floats down the three flights of stairs to the main level. Not only because it is cool if you can float, but he also won’t trip over one of Claude’s 17 pairs of roller-skates he leaves everywhere, especially on stairs.

“Greetings Bob, nothing to report.” The gatekeeper happily greets the black and white haired mage, cheerfully looking up into his piercing citrine eyes.

“Hey Keeps, you ever see the librarian head out of these gates?” Bob asks him in a deep, sultry voice.

“Oh yeah, I guess he left almost a week ago. I bet he’s going out to chase down some overdue books. Had a large empty sack on his shoulder.” Gatekeeper smiles ever so widely, a blush to his cheeks as he stares deeper into Bob’s eyes.

Caspar overhears the conversation, gasps, and runs straight to Linhardt’s room to save his best friend from being sentenced to death for his lack of library returns.

Bob returns to his room for the night to ponder the mysteries of the universe, Flayn’s location, why does Felix do that thing with his hair, and why does Dimitri find Alois’ jokes funny? They suck so bad. Is it the madness?

-----------

Breakfast with the Blue Lions is enlightening. There are rumors of some sort of dude that dresses up like the grim reaper, complete with scythe that is creeping out the people in the village. Just one more thing to add to the list of the weird crap that is going on around this place. As he walks across the courtyard, some guy from the kitchen bumps into him.

“Hey, watch it, bud.” Bob giving the guy the eye.

Kitchen guy stops him. ”Have you seen Manuela?” he asks as blood is dripping down his arm.

Bob holds his hands out like he is holding two invisible watermelons to his chest, “Really big…?”

The guy nods.

Bob smirks, “Never heard of her. What were you doing?” Bob curiously asks.

“Peeling potatoes. Knife slipped.” Kitchen guy says, not looking so good. Bob knows to avoid potatoes for dinner.

“Head for the training grounds, healers are always hanging out there for practice opportunities.” Bob says before heading to the stable area. Just as he walks past the Knights quarters, he hears a shriek in a perfect “C”. Probably Manuela. Just before he goes inside he stops a guy standing out front telling him to get the Blue Lions. You know, the group with the really tall hot blonde guy? Yeah, those Blue Lions.

The mage runs down the hall and finds a door partially open. He pushes it the rest of the way to find Manuela lying on the floor. She’s reaching out for something by the wall, as Bob gets closer he can smell them, Agarthans. He feels around and there’s a secret passage that opens wide to show a path down to the stink. The dark mage heads straight down the hole, lighting every torch on the way to guide the rest of his house. The Professor arrives at the bottom of the stairs to find all of the enemies in the immediate area are on fire. Bob is currently hurling fire spells through the gate at the enemies in the next room. “Die motherfuckers!! MUahahahahahahaha! Eat this!” Bob screams as he throws another fireball at one of the guys in the next room who tries to hide as far in a corner as possible, but still winds up having his robes catch fire and he screams in agony.

Byleth places her hand on Bob’s shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Calm down dude, you’re frightening the kids. Don’t scar our cinnamonrolls.”

Bob pulls a fist in front of his mouth. “Oopsie. Sorry. Was over excited. ::cough cough::”

The Blue Lions take over from here. Ashe unlocks the door as Felix and Sylvain rush in followed by Dedue and Ingrid. The professor heads to the left to unlock another gate.

Bob reaches over to pat Ashe on the head. “Good boy, you are such a good boy.”

Ashe smiles as his eyes glaze the slightest bit.

They move forward quickly wiping out the soldiers that are nearby. Felix and Sylvain take some warp tiles that send them to various places in the area where they can deactivate trap tiles. They all are joined together at the door in front of the death knight. Ashe opens the door. Bob’s already materialized in the room and hitting the big masked dude on the horsie with Dark Spikes T when the Flame Emperor shows up to send horsie boy off.

Flame Emperor “Go home Creepy McCreepface, you done good. I am the Flame Emperor. I will reforge the world.” And with that they both warp off.

Professor “We need to get these kids out of here.”

Bob, “I’ll grab Flayne, leave that other one, it smells bad.” He tosses Flayne over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Bob carries her all the way to the infirmary. When putting her on a cot, he notices that her shirt sleeves were sliced open to her armpits and there are multiple holes in her arms where the evil bloodsuckers have taken her blood multiple times. He whispers to Manuela that the girl is a few quarts low, then he leaves.

Bob heads straight to Hubert’s room. His half brother isn’t there, so he waits for him to show up. So he’s not too bored, he goes into his brothers notes on spells and adds a few extra lines here and there to Sigils and changes ingredients on some poisons.

As soon as Hubert enters the door he is tripped then given a knee in the back while his dear half sibling repeatedly smashes his face into the floor.

“I told ::slam:: you not ::slam:: to work ::slam:: with them. ::slam slam:: Fucking idiot! ::slam slam slam::

Hubert’s nose is quite crooked and he can’t breathe correctly through it now. “I toad her, but she woodit lissen.”

Bob continues his rant. “Now we have a kid that suddenly appears from being gone last year. “ He definitely does airquotes on the word “suddenly”. “She’s one of them, I know it. Dump her. Dump the Agarthans. And wash your hair sometimes, ew.” Bob disappears through the floor, listening to Hubert call him a few names that weren’t in the book. Bob needs to write those down.

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

It was time for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and no Deerz allowed. Byleth has been working them pretty hard, advancing Bob as quickly as she can in magic certifications. He’s got reason down better than anyone in the group, so he’s been teaching them more advanced spellcasting. Byleth doesn’t say much but she catches on fast. If you can get Annette to shut up and concentrate, she does an amazing job. Mercedes doesn’t have her heart in it but manages to get a few reason spells down, Fire for sure, and Thunder is getting better. Felix is great with Thunder. Sylvain would be great with fire, but he screws around too much.

The horn signals for the battle to begin. Bob immediately heads for the back lines of the Black Eagles, materializing behind Linhardt, stabbing him with a blade covered with a powerful sleeping concoction. Lin would probably thank him. Bob heads over to behind Marianne in the Golden Deer. He whispers “good night, sweetie” in her ear before he holds a cloth covered with the same powerful sleeping potion. Lying her carefully on the ground he hides out in the nearby bushes to find out where Lysithia has gone off to.

He watches Ferdinand and Sylvain get into it. Handsome redheads on horses stab at each other repeatedly with pointed sticks. Finally, Sylvain gets the upper hand, but not by much. Ferdinand is out and heads to the boundary lines. Sylvain heads back to Mercedes for a bit of patching up. Annette is working on whittling down Ignatz, blowing his arrows off course as she attacks with wind spells. The professor is taking out Raphael and Claude. Bob decides to throw a mire at Hilda. She screams about her hair and how gross the magic muck feels all over her and gives up. Felix is giving Leonie a workout. Sylvain is back and taking on Lorenz. Lorenz throws a decent Fire spell at Sylvain, causing the redhead’s horse to rear up, he still is able to stay on the steed and then counter Lorenz with a decent lance jab that knocks the grapeheaded guy off his horse.

The battle continues on. It is between the lions and eagles, the deer are out. Its very helpful at this point that the eagles have no healer except for Dorothea. Her magic is going to be defensive not attacking for the most part. Edelgard marches down the field heading for Dimitri and Dedue, followed by Hubert and Caspar. Bob lost track of Petra and Felix, not sure who won that match. Bob grabs a large wooden sword lying on the ground and materializes behind Hubert. Swinging the flat edge of the blade at full force at the back of Hubert’s head, Bob provides Hubert with the headache of the month.

“Blockhead.” Bob smirks as he watches the dark mage fall and Bob disappears into the ground just under the swing of Edelgard’s axe. Bob shows up in a copse of trees not far away watching the rest of the blue lions completely wipe out the black eagles.

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

Bob is in Abyss, in the laboratory of the most creative and beautiful sorceress he has ever met.

“Darling, would you be so kind to join me for lunch today? I would be ever so honored and grateful if you would grace my humble presence with your enlightening company.” Bob croons.

“Ever the charming one, pumpkin. However I must decline as I have serious potions to concoct today and they simply cannot mix themselves.” Constance smiles ever so sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“Ahh. I so adore your everworking and brilliant mind, however you do need nourishment for your delectable body. If I may, I will retrieve lunch from above and bring it back to provide you with the energy needed to complete your serious tasks. “ Bob dashingly offers, his hands on his hips, his hair waving in the breeze, a sparkle shows on his teeth with a ding.

“I suppose I must acquiesce to obtaining sustenance. Having your handsome face as accompaniment is also a great pleasure. Please do go, with haste and fetch our midday feast.” Coco wiggles her fingers, encouraging him to hurry.

“But of course my flower, my jewel. I shall return poste haste.” Bob says, holding his palm open for her to gently place her hand within it so that he may delicately kiss the back of her hand, and then lick it for good measure.

He then disappears through the floor, only a minute later to walk through the wall behind her.

“Every moment away tears at my heart, my sweet lady. I am overjoyed to have returned and bask in your beauty once again. Please join me.” The handsome dark mage waves a hand at the beautifully set table complete with two darling candelabras with Ashen Wolves colored candles, napkins and tablecloth.

They sit on the same side of the table. Bob smiles and he feeds her bite after bite until she is satisfied. Next time he may even offer to chew if for her if she so desires. He takes a napkin and lightly dabs at the corner of her mouth.

“There my precious one.” Bob coos in her ear. “Have you been sated? Is there anything else that I may obtain for you? I would pull the stars from the sky if you would only ask for them.”

Constance smiles, a bit of green something stuck on her teeth, “Nah, I’m good. “

Bob helps her from her chair and walks her back to the laboratory table. “Ahh. Then, although it pains me to do so< I shall leave you to your work.” He says before snapping his fingers, clearing the table.

Bob dips her, giving her a face sucking kiss until her skin on her cheeks is almost purple, as he stands her back up she is completely gasping for breath, trying to cool herself with her fan. She has a severe case of the vapors. He then rises into the air, disappearing through the ceiling.

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

Remire Village. Nice place if you like living in Hell!!!! Whole place is aflame. Dimitri is acting like Frankenstein’s monster getting creeped out by the flames everywhere giving him flashbacks of Duscur. Felix is getting flashbacks of feral Dimitri. Sylvain is getting flashbacks of the girls he had dated here, they’re all monsters now and after him. Ingrid is having flashbacks of when she was camping and her marshmallows AND her hotdog fell into the campfire. Bob is busy covering the eyes of Annette and Ashe to keep them from as much of the horror as possible, the smell around him of burnt cinnamon is concerning. Somehow they save the villagers, Thomas’ skin is removed from Solon, a pasty white older than dirt uglier than sin guy. Professor B beats up the old guy pretty quick and pastyboy heads for the hills.

The Death Knight is there. Bob pulls the cinnamon rolls over and whispers in their ears.

“Hey kids, would you like to see your dear Uncle Bob get rid of the McKreepface guy on the horse? I’ll let you laugh at him while he burns, okay?”

Ashe and Annette nod their heads very quickly has Bob hands them each a bowl of popcorn and a box of milkduds for the show.

“Huzza-huzza-HOOM! You’re about to meet your DOOOOOOM!” Bob cackles as the magic of Dark Spikes T whips from his fingers and chomps on the body of the Death Knight like Godzilla eating buildings in Tokyo. The only thing left of the dude is a Dark Seal that Bob wraps in a pink bow and hands to Professor Byleth.

“Don’t you want this, Bob?” the Professor asks.

“Nope, mother got me one for my birth day. Figured you could use a spare.” The dark mage quips.

The Flame Emperor shows up. “Deathknight, you’re having too much fuuuuuuuuuck! What did you do to my pet?”

“Chomp chomp bitch.” Bob says making hand gestures like his fingers are teeth chomping towards her face.

Jeralt is angry. “So you’re the one that did this to my favorite village?”

“No, no, you got it all wrong.” The Flame Emperor backpedals. “Yeah, Solon works with me, but man I didn’t know he was going to pull this shit.”

“Come to the dark side!” Flameface pleads. “I will give you cookies…”

“We got Mercedes, your cookies suck compared to ours. Oh, and you suck too.” Says Byleth.

“Look, Solon and his buddies, they are powerful. Together, me, you, The Sword of the Creator. We can take them down.” Flame face

Bob pulls his right hand into his sleeve to make it look like it’s been cut off. “I’ll never rule the universe with you!”

Dedue runs up saying his Princeliness is missing. Bob grabs his two cinnamon rolls protectively.

“Don’t let Mr. CrazySpaghettihead scare you. Lets go get some icecream.” Bob says leading them to the monastery.

#fe3h #fire embelm three houses #Blue Lions #Crack #my stories #Black Eagles #FE16 hubert von vestra #byleth eisner

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wildernessuntothemselves · 5 years

Text

Best of the Best | Part 1

Genre: Smut and Angst

Word Count: 4k

Summary: You promised yourself you’d never fall for another clingy, needy boy who demanded you gave him all your love, only to leave you after he has sucked you dry. Yet here you were, making that same mistake again. Alternatively: It wasn’t easy being perfect. Sometimes, Taeyong needed someone else to take control. Sometimes, he needed to be broken down completely in order to be put back together again, better and stronger.

A/N: I tried to get as close as I can to ty’s actual personality in this one. This is largely inspired by his verse in Whiplash and some tidbits about his life that I learned from @nctforuandme she’s honestly single-handedly responsible for reigniting my obsession with ty so thank you a lot babe

Warnings: femdom, sub!taeyong, dom!reader, student/professor relationship, age-gap, dry humping, thigh riding, degradation, sexist remarks, breath play, semi-public sex, cheating, Miss kink (?), pwb professors with benefits, usage of the painfully cliche trope of “but you can’t fall in love with me”

“What is this?” You hear someone bark out. At first, you don’t think the wrathful inquiry is directed at you. After all, who would dare speak to you this way? But when you hear the same voice shout out again, much closer this time, you look up to find that the person, that poor fucker, was in fact talking to you. “Are you deaf? I asked you a question.” The students, who were just starting to file out of the room at the end of your lecture, freeze in their tracks and look over, varying degrees of shock and trepidation displayed on their faces. One of them, a tall bespectacled boy who you know you guess is a friend of the boy with the suicidal wish, Lee Taeyong, bravely steps forward to try and pull him back, muttering quietly to him, “Let’s go, man. It’s not worth it.” But the silver haired boy shakes him off, never taking his hateful gaze off of you. “No, this is bullshit. This paper is worth twenty-five percent of our final score and she gave me a D. A fucking D! This is gonna mess up my whole grade.” Gasps echo around the room as more students come into the room instead of getting out in order to watch the scene unfold. The boy’s friend pales and urgently whispers to him, “Dude, the man-eater is gonna have your balls for this. Apologize and let’s—“ You’ve heard enough.

“Everyone, get the hell out of my lecture room.” Your voice booms out, making students jump in fear and slip out hurriedly. When you see some still hesitate to leave, their curiosity getting the best of them, you threaten, “I’m going to count to five, and if I see anyone else in here after I’m done besides Mr. Lee, they can expect a zero on their next exam.” At that, everyone quickly rushes out. Even Lee’s friend backs away, his hands raised in the air as if to say he has nothing to do with his friends stupidity, and then he leaves too. When the room is empty sans you and Lee, you speak again. “What seems to be the problem, Mr. Lee?” “I want you to change my grade to an A.” He demands as if it was his right to get the grade he wanted, looking every bit the spoiled brat whose daddy always gave him everything he’s ever asked for. It wasn’t a look becoming of a young man studying at a prestigious university such as this, and the look you give him in response speaks volumes of how little you appreciated that. “You don’t deserve an A. Your work wasn’t up to par.” You say dismissively. Your response seems to make him light up with pure fury. “Bullshit! I worked my ass off on this paper. I’ve been getting straight A’s eve since I set foot in this damn college. I’m not going to have my perfect score ruined by you.” “Well, you should’ve thought of that earlier. Maybe then you would’ve given me something better than the dismal excuse for a paper that you handed in. You’re lucky I even let you pass. Don’t make me rethink my decision.” You threaten him, hoping to dissuade him from his silly tantrum. Despite your reputation for being a merciless “man-eater”, you really didn’t derive any joy from making the lives of your students miserable, whether they were male or female. You cared about your students. You took pride in your work. That’s the whole reason you were so strict in the first place. You wanted to have a positive impact on their lives. You worked your ass off so that years from now, one of these students might look back on their college years and think ‘Man, I really learned something of value from Miss ___.’ That used to be the case anyway. Now, having endured years of indifferent students and spiteful colleagues, you’ve all but lost your passion for what used to be your dream job. But even so, you still cared about your students and you were still willing to let Lee’s little tantrum go if he backs down and apologizes, despite him having so brazenly disrespected you in front of the entire class. But it seems he’s not too smart, that one. “I gave you my best work. I always give my best work! That’s why every other professor before you has given me straight A’s.” “Hmm, is that why? Funny. And here I thought all the others were just kissing your ass because your father is a major investor in this university and they’re just trying to save their own cowardly asses. Sorry, sweetheart, I’m just so dumb sometimes.” You smack your forehead with your palm, pretending to extrude the stupidity out. “Don’t you dare—“ He seethes, looking absolutely murderous, and you swear you can actually hear his teeth grinding together. “I got this far through my hard work and my hard work alone. I will not let you take that away from me.” “Let’s see that hard work in your next assignment then.” You try to end it there, feeling weary already, but still wanting to give him a second chance that he didn’t deserve to tuck his tail between his legs and run. Turning your back to him, you grab your folder off the desk, looking to gather your things and leave, but he promptly rips it from your hands and throws it to the side, your carefully collected and sorted papers flying out and scattering all over the floor. You don’t have any time to react as he backs you into the desk and looms over you with equal parts anger and desperation. “Look, just tell me what you want and you’ll have it. You want a Rolex? How about a nice Louis Vuitton bag, huh? Say what you want and it’s yours. Just… please, I need that A.” His sudden change in demeanor from lethal to excessively desperate was concerning and a little bit unsettling. Why did he need that A so bad? It’s not like it’s going to affect his overall score that much. He won’t get a perfect GPA but it wouldn’t be too far off. “Mr. Lee, look at me.” You sigh in exasperation and gesture towards your generic, economic outfit of a simple white blouse and a black skirt. “Don’t you think a watch or a bag that cost more than my entire wardrobe would look silly on me?” “I could buy you a whole new wardrobe then, to fit your new accessories. Is that what you want?” He hurries to say, a knowing glint in his eyes as if he’s onto you. “Are you even listening? What I want is for you to leave me alone.” You take a step to the side, trying to get out from under him but he slams his hands down on either side of you, trapping you against the desk. “So the rumors about you are true, huh? You really are a bitter bitch who takes pleasure in making the lives of her male students miserable in order to make up for her own sad and loveless life.” He snarls, looking down his nose at you. “You know, maybe if you weren’t such a frigid bitch, a man would actually want to touch your shriveled up pussy. Give me that A and I’ll give you that dicking I know you’re dying for, baby.” “Oh, but Mr. Lee…” You gasp, looking up at him demurely, lulling him into a false sense of security as you lightly trail a hand up his chest towards his neck. “I don’t fuck little whores.” You circle your fingers around his neck and press down, cutting off the gasp that tried to fight its way out of his throat. As you lightly choke him, you monitor his reaction closely, ready to pull back at any sign of distress. But just like you had predicted, he stays rooted to the spot, looking at you like an animal caught in a trap, his eyes jumping around in alarm as he tries to catch his breath and make sense of what is happening. Smirking, you press down harder on his throat, slimming his breathing down to a wheeze. “What makes you think that you would even be allowed to put your dirty, little cock anywhere near my pussy? You’re just a stuck-up, spoiled little brat who needs to be reminded how to properly talk to his superiors. Do you know what you should be calling me, boy, or are you too dumb to even remember?” “Yes,” He grits out, getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen to his brain. He was glaring bloody murder at you but he never once attempts to pull back. You knew he wouldn’t. You had always been an excellent judge of character, a skill that’s came in handy quite often in your profession, and you knew just what this boy so desperately needed. “Yes, what, little slut?” “Yes, Miss.” He wheezes out and bucks his hips against you, making you snap at him and press down harder on his windpipe, blocking his airflow entirely. “Did I say you could do that? How are you going to ‘give me that dicking I’m dying for’ when just having my hand on your throat is making you hump me like a horny virgin?” All at once, you take the pressure off his neck and he folds over, molding his body to yours as he sucks in deep, gasping breaths. Grabbing his jaw, you press your face close to his. “Look at you, so wrecked already. Are you that easy? I didn’t even need to touch your little dick. I bet you would cum if I so much as lay a finger on you, wouldn’t you?” When he doesn’t reply, you clench your hand down on his jaw, your fingers digging into his cheeks, and ask again, “Wouldn’t you?” “Yes, Miss.” “Would you like that?” “Yes, please, Miss.” “No.” You deadpan, “You don’t deserve it.” He slumps, looking positively crestfallen, but doesn’t protest. You’re quiet for a moment, your face a mask of cold disinterest as you stare him down, watching as he slowly unravels under the weight of your unimpressed gaze. He was trying so hard to hold onto his pride even as his eyes start to tear up and his hips move ever so slightly against you, timidly pleading you to give him something, anything. "You really want that A, huh?” Your face breaks out into a triumphant grin, “OK, I’ll give it to you.” Caught up in your game, he had forgotten what this was about in the first place, and so he starts, thrown off by the sudden reminder. “That’s what you wanted, right?” You taunt, smirking as you watch him gape and fumble. “Yes, b-but—“ “B-b-b-but,” You mock, laughing, and the boy’s face flushes crimson. He bites his lip and averts his eyes in embarrassment. You smile at him knowingly, stating state what you knew he wished to say, “But now you’re all wound up now and you want to cum too, don’t you, greedy little slut?” “I'll tell you what? I'll give you that A you’re whoring yourself out for, and I’ll not force you walk out of here with blue balls and a stiff cock. How does that sound?” The boy gives you what might possibly be the most innocent look you’ve ever seen on his face, or anyone’s face for that matter. He was wide eyed and slack jawed, fear and hope flitting over his face in alternating ripples as he tries to make out what your angle here was. You half-expect to see little restless ears sprout up from the top of his head for how much he resembled a frightened little kitty right now. He looked so unlike his normally cold and severe self. Right in front of your eyes, he seems to transform into someone else entirely; his white skin turning warm and tan, his demeanor tender and inviting, his sharp features broadening and a full, boxy smile replacing the thin-lipped pout on his face… But as soon as you blink, he’s Lee Taeyong again, and not the boy who broke your heart so many years ago. Pushing him away, he stumbles on unsteady feet as you walk around the desk and sit on the leather chair. You pat your thigh, flushing the intrusive thoughts away and ordering him tightly, “Come here.” He doesn’t protest, just walks up to you in a daze and sits down on your lap, straddling your thigh between his legs and looking at you expectantly. “What I’m offering you here is a chance to get everything you want. If you can get yourself off just by riding my thigh, I’ll give you that A you so desperately want." Taeyong looked positively terrified, his face paling as he tries to figure out if this was a trick or not. Taking pity on him, you cradle his face in your hands and gently ask, “Can you do that for me, Mr. Lee? Can you show me what a good, hard working boy you are?” He nods fervently, eager to believe you, his hands going to his pants to unbutton them, but you brush them away. "No. Keep them on. I want to see you make a mess for me." Sucking in a breath, he whispers harshly, “Yes, Miss.” When he starts moving on top of you, it’s a little uncomfortable. He is somehow both heavy and bony, but you don’t dwell on it for long, not when he almost immediately picks up his pace, grinding against you earnestly as if he just suddenly realized how badly he needed to get off. You watch his frantic movements in amusement, remarking, “You know, if we had enough time, I would never have let you off this easily. I would’ve edged you on for so long that you’d cum on command.” He shivers at your words, his hips grinding down harder against your thighs as delicious little moans fall freely from his mouth. You support his head in your palm as it lolls to the side, “Then I’d make you cum again and again. I would make you cum so many times that by the end of the night you'll be crying and begging me to hurt you even more." “Yeah, yeah,” He moans encouragingly, clutching onto you and swiveling his hips around in circles, his cock driving into the flesh of your thigh hard. "Be quiet kitten or someone will hear your mewls." You laugh, slipping a hand under his shirt to softly caress his stomach. He was shuddering like a leaf above you, barely able to control his movements, and he doesn't calm down. He only gets louder. "Damn, you’re a loud little slut." You push the fingers of the hand that had been cradling his face into his mouth, muffling his moans, and he immediately goes to work licking and sucking on your fingers like a lollipop. "I knew I was right about you. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that you were just begging for someone to strip you off of your abrasive and entitled attitude and whip you back into shape. But no one ever did, right? They all saw you acting cold and clawing at anyone who tries to come near, and they assumed you’re a lion trying eat them up. But you’re not a lion. You’re just a frightened little kitty looking for someone worthy enough to tame him.” You confidently, watching as the boy melts under your words, allowing you to gaze upon his true self. You know it’s hard for him, exposing himself like this, so you try to be gentle with him. “Poor kitty, you must’ve been waiting for so long. I can’t imagine that your pretty little girlfriend ever took charge of you like you crave. I bet she just lets you do whatever you please with her. I bet she never once punished you for being so insolent or fucked you until you cried out for forgiveness. Isn’t that right, little kitty?” Taeyong’s legs clench around your thigh and he pulls his head back, your fingers slip out of his mouth and tracking strings of saliva behind them as he cries out, “I’m so close, Miss. Please, let me cum.” Since all of this must be so overwhelming for him and yet he was still well-behaved enough to ask before cumming without you needing to tell him to, you decide to take it easy on him. “Cum, little kitten, show me what a good boy you can be.” He gives a few last erratic thrusts before his body seizes up and he cries out, finally cumming. You quickly clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams, feeling warmth coat the fabric of your skirt as he shudders above you. When he hunches over you, completely spent, you wraps your arms around him and rub his back soothingly, listening to him gasp for air and feeling his heart beat wildly through his frail rib-cage. "Hush little kitten. It’s OK. You’re OK. I’ve got you.” "Thank you, Miss." His reply is muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder. As his body slowly relaxes and his breathing settles down, you slowly become aware of what exactly you just did... You got yourself sexually involved with a student, a clearly troubled boy who craves affection and support and who probably now thinks you can give him that. Why do you always go after the broken ones? Technically, it wasn’t against school policy to hook up with a student but you could still get a lot of grief over this, and that’s just the administrative and interpersonal-relationships aspects of it… You sigh, pushing the boy up so you can lock eyes with him. "You did well, Mr. Lee. You’ll be getting that A you were promised. You just need to keep what happened between us to yourself. After we leave this room, you have to promise to never talk about this again, not to me, not to anyone. Is that understood?" You hope he would gladly take your offer and leave. After all, he just got the grade he wanted and an orgasm to boot. But when he hesitates to answer you, you know you’re in trouble. “Mr. Lee, do we have a deal?” For another agonizing second, he remains quiet, throwing you into a vicious loop of worrying about all the improbable reasons behind his silence and how you’re going to deal with them and all the possible ways this could end badly for you. Finally though, he breaks eye contact and answers you with a timid, “Okay.” As you watch him leave the lecture room, his gait funny because of the sticky mess in his pants, you pray to god that the feeling of dread washing over you is completely unjustified and that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass later. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• As always though, your gut feeling was correct. After your little encounter with Mr. Lee, it was like he became obsessed with you. He would openly stare at you during lectures then find any flimsy excuse to talk to you after, leaving his friends to scratch their heads and wonder why the boy who was just about to end you a week ago was now always following you around like a little duckling. It was all getting very suspicious and you found yourself forced to intervene quickly before anyone figured it out. Rounding him up in your office--a concerningly easy feat seeing as the boy was more than happy to be locked up in a room alone with you-- you turn on him, “Mr. Lee, what on earth are you doing?” “I—I am asking you about the assignment.” He gulps, trying not to give himself away and failing miserably. “I don’t understand the part where—“ “Cut the crap, Lee. You understand it perfectly. You’re not very smooth, you know? Now tell me, what is this about?” You demand. You weren’t slick either. You knew what he wanted but you were desperately hoping you were wrong, the sickening sense of déjà vu coursing through your brain so strong, it was nauseating. You couldn’t handle another needy, clingy boy who demands all your love then leaves you when he has run you dry. The boy scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and stumbles through his words, "Can I... can we...do... it again? What happened last week, I mean. Not exactly the same though! I can make you feel good too I swear I—“ “Didn’t we agree to never talk about that again? You’re talking about it.” “I know but I just can’t stop thinking about it! That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had and you didn’t even touch me. Holy shit, I can’t wait to see what you can do if you actually touch me.” “Then I’m afraid you’ll be waiting for a long time. What I did was wrong and unprofessional and as your professor, I sincerely apologize to you for that. It can’t happen again." “Why?” He whines childishly. "Because I’m your professor.” You say it like it’s matter-of-fact, because it is. “If the other professors find out I’m sexually involved with a student, they’ll ostracize me. It’s already hard enough with all the malicious rumors running around about me just because I’m a woman who dares to be assertive and not let men walk all over her. If they find out about this, it will just be more proof in their minds that I hate men and I’m taking it out on a poor student.” “They won’t find out. I’ll make sure of it. I'll keep pretending I hate you and no one will ever know. And even if they did, I can shut them up. You said it yourself; my father is the biggest investor in this college and they all want to stay on my good graces. Please, I need this.” “That’s not how it works, Mr. Lee. They’ll only shut up in front of you but they’ll still talk behind your back. Why don’t you just hire a dominatrix or something if you need this so bad?” "I don’t want a fucking dominatrix. I want you." There was that fire in his eyes again, the all-consuming passion to get what he wants at whatever cost that you’re so used to seeing from him. This Taeyong was completely different from your previous lover. He was rage and determination and cold, blue fire; nothing like the warm and soothing orange of the other, softer boy. You knew this Taeyong. You could handle this Taeyong. “I don’t want a strange woman whipping me around and telling me to lick her boots. I want you. You get me! You saw me in a way no one ever did before. I just... I’m so close to losing it. I have to put on this persona every minute of every day but it’s slipping off and I can’t keep it in place anymore. I need to let go for once and let someone else take charge or I’m going to snap. Please, help me.” The problem is that you believed him wholeheartedly; you sympathized with him wholeheartedly. Because beneath his hard exterior, there was a soft, mushy thing inside that frail rib-cage of his that mirrored your own. You couldn’t turn him away when you saw yourself in him. So you agree, under one condition. “You can’t fall in love with me. If you do then it’s over.” Taeyong laughs incredulously, taken aback by the weird condition, and his mood immediately lifts up, clearly not taking what you’re saying seriously. “Look, Miss, I’m just trying to get fucked. Nobody’s falling in love here, at least not me.” That arrogant smirk was back on his face again. He looked so damn confident. So why was your gut feeling telling you that this is all a huge mistake? “Good.” You say, squashing the feeling down and taking in the beautiful, broken boy. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• A/N: AHHHHHH I’m so excited for this series y’all. This was long overdue. Anticipate a lot of angst with this one. It’s gonna be dark but not in a criminal way, more like a slowly soul-crushing way like THERAPY. ahahahha as always I live off feedback and I’m anticipating your wonderful messages

#taeyong smut #taeyong angst #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fics #taeyong fanfics #taeyong imagines #nct smut #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fics #nct fanfics

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amandaoftherosemire · 5 years

Text

Lightning Strikes Part Seven

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Thor Odinson X Reader

Characters: Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson, OFC Astrid, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,013

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: Language, angst, the appearance of infidelity,

Summary: Ready to finally give Thor an answer to his request that you move in with him, you travel to New Asgard. Once there, however, you receive information that explains a lot even as it creates new questions. Regardless of the answers, what you discover has the capacity to change how you feel about everything.

A/N: I want to start by saying I’m sorry. That said, this chapter has its place and I promise that I’m building to something worthwhile. I also swear I didn’t do this just to be a dick. I’m perfectly capable of that, but that’s not what I was going for here. 😉

Part Six: Crucible here

Sublimation

Loki walked out of the manor house to meet the jet from New York, a wickedly delighted grin on his face. He'd been anticipating this day for nearly a month, ever since you'd told him the plan. Now that you were here, the fun could really begin.

The jet was of Wakandan design and manufacture and a gift to the Avengers from King T'challa to aid you in your new duties. It had taken the better part of a month to learn how to fly the thing but being the pilot when this baby kicked into gear was out-fucking-standing. You were now the point of contact between the Avengers compound in New York, New Asgard, and Wakanda, hence the gift. You had a base of operations in all three locations, at least you would once you talked to Thor about it, but were expected to spend most of your time in New Asgard, handling what you could remotely and traveling when necessary.

As soon as you'd gotten back to New York from your vacation with Thor, you'd gone to Pepper. You'd told her the entire situation and asked for her help in figuring out a solution. Pepper, both a powerful and ambitious businesswoman and a quietly tender-hearted romantic, had immediately put her phenomenal brain to the task. With the full power of Pepper Potts behind you, it hadn't been too difficult to find a solution that should work for everyone. Thor didn't know yet, but since he'd asked you if you'd decided yet every time you talked, you figured he'd be on board.

You'd been putting him off, gently telling him each time that you still hadn't figured it all out. You'd wanted to surprise him when everything was in place. You were here today because everything was in place. All that was left was to talk to Thor.

You sauntered out of the open hatch into the balmy ocean air, your bag over your shoulder and eyes shaded against the early summer sun, a cheerful grin on your face.

With a sweeping and dramatic bow, Loki offered his arm. You took it as you laughed up into dancing emerald eyes. “Pet,” he purred, mirth and mischief ripe in his tone. “Welcome home.”

Loki filled you in on the gossip as he walked you to the rooms you normally had each time you visited, making you laugh with catty sotto voce commentary on the various people you passed on the way. Once there, however, you chased him off, wanting to change before you saw Thor. Loki had gallantly offered to go push his brother out of his office for you before sauntering out. You frowned after him, mildly suspicious. But without anything else to go on, you opted to chalk his oddly helpful behavior up to pleasure at having you here.

You didn't fool yourself. Whatever Loki felt for you was real and deep, but you also knew that he was pleased to have you there because you entertained him. He had made no secret that he was excited to have a partner in crime, confident in his ability to draw you into his schemes and games. You had to admit it depended on how funny and ultimately harmless his schemes and games were. You had no doubt that the two of you would find plenty of mischief that would satisfy you both and hopefully harm none.

You pulled a sleeveless lace shirt and bustle skirt from your bag, getting ready to wiggle out of your jeans. You wanted to be comfortable while traveling, but pants were always more trouble than they were worth around Thor. To top it off, you hadn't seen each other in a couple of weeks, the only thing that could test his patience and spur him to anything you considered urgency. You flipped the button open on your jeans as you debated the merits of underwear when a beam of sunshine hit something shiny on the table next to the bed.

Curious, you rounded the bed to approach the table. You would have ignored it, but the curtain was almost too perfectly parted to allow a beam of light to fall upon the object. Once next to it, you could see that the object was an earring, what looked to be a pretty one carat diamond. Not only was it not yours, it was also perfectly angled to shine upon the opposite wall. Even had your body not gotten in the way, there would have been no way to be in these rooms any time in the afternoon and miss the thing.

You stood, looking at the small item, considering the wealth of meaning that could imbue anything, should the circumstances be right. Or wrong. You don't know how long you stood there, mulling over the weight location, position, identity of owner, etc. should each have in the calculation of how big an explosion should occur when you next got your hands on either Odinson.

At your back, the bedroom door opened to Astrid, her arms full of clean towels. The last time you'd seen Thor, you'd asked him to assign Astrid to you whenever you were in New Asgard. You were unsurprised to see her, as you'd seen her in the hall on your way in. Astrid, however, looked confused to see you here, then concerned when her eye fell on the sparkling jewelry at the obvious focus of your attention.

"Lady Y/N!" she said softly, her voice low and warm. One of the things you liked about Astrid was her calm no matter how you surprised her. "These are no longer your rooms." You weren't ready to speak, holding on to your temper was difficult enough, so you tilted your head in question.

Another thing you liked about Astrid was her talent at reading nonverbal communication. She stepped forward and slipped her arm around your waist, supporting you without words as she answered. "His majesty commanded that you be put in his private quarters from now on," she explained.

"I see." You pulled away slightly to turn and look at her, your eyes catching and boring into hers. She was on the tall side of average for a woman, a couple of inches under six feet, well-built and strong. She had a lovely, sweet face, with charming dimples that you knew she used as a distraction. Even in the little time you'd gotten to spend with her, you had somehow become genuine friends. This, however, was the first time she looked into your eyes and saw what her king found so compelling about this funny little human. Your gaze was fierce and held a strength she hadn’t expected.

"And was I the last to have these rooms?" you asked, your voice hardening as you saw the change in her eyes. You knew she'd liked you before; your triumph was that she now respected you. Your eyes fell back to the earring on the nightstand.

"No." Astrid's voice had dropped to a sympathetic murmur. "The Lady Jane Foster visited last week." Her arm came back around you and squeezed gently at the tremor that rocked through you. Her tone took on a touch of urgency. "But she slept in this bed. And his majesty slept in his."

You huffed out a breath and even you didn't know if it was a laugh or a sigh. You reached out and snagged the earring, tucking it into your pocket, before turning into Astrid's arms to give her a quick hug. "Astrid, I adore you." She hugged you back, but you could see the worry in her eyes. You smiled sunnily and turned to snag your bag. "Let's go to his majesty's quarters and I'll give you your present."

Astrid's eyes widened. You'd told her the last time you'd visited that you would bring her some human designer shoes so she could see them for herself. Astrid was a fashionista, but specifically for shoes. You had gone with Natasha to her favorite boutique and picked out the prettiest, shiniest, crystal embedded Jimmy Choos with Astrid's caramel hair and bright blue eyes in mind.

The pictures of Human Mistress Guy tucked between the shoes weren't necessarily for Astrid, but you knew she'd be happy to take responsibility for them. Turned out HMG was more interested in enforcing Asgardian social norms than he was in living up to them.

Though most were unaware of it, you had a vast, and some would say insidious, network of connections. You had once been the gatekeeper to Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark fucking Industries and one of the most powerful people in the world. Not only that, you had facilitated the connection between the Avengers and SI, you knew people who knew people who knew people. You could find dirt on almost anyone, almost anywhere.

You figured Astrid would be the best person to ask how her people would feel about the pictures of Human Mistress Guy with his very own human mistress.

Loki stood at the door to his brother's office, smirking as Thor worked at the Stark designed touch computer, clearly in a terrible temper. Thor delegated as much as he could, but he had prepared to be king of Asgard when she was whole and strong. Here on Earth he was, in some ways, painfully out of his depth. And he hated the bureaucracy that went along with ruling more than almost anything.

Loki's voice held a light taunt as he spoke into the silence. "Your delicious little human has arrived, brother."

Thor didn't look up. He knew you were coming; you'd sent him a text on the phone you’d made him take. His lips twitched at the memory of your utter disdain for any form of communication he had suggested other than the little plastic and glass box. The twitch turned to a smirk as he remembered how'd you'd changed his mind about the device when you'd introduced him to sexting.

“I am aware,” Thor growled, annoyed with the world. He was annoyed that he had to deal with this if he wanted to spend the rest of the day as he wished, in bed with you. He was annoyed that you still hadn't given him a straight answer about whether you'd live with him. He was annoyed with himself for not being honest with you about everything. He was annoyed with Loki for being so obvious in his regard and pursuit of you.

"I’ll greet her when I can do it properly." Thor didn't try to stop the smug smile from curving his mouth, even as he kept his eyes on the screen in front of him. He couldn't help but remind his brother that though you may be Loki's pet, you were Thor's lover.

"Suit yourself." Loki was unamused and equally annoyed with Thor. There were few things that Loki found distasteful, self-righteous hypocrisy was one of the few. As long as Thor acted as though he had the moral high ground, Loki would continue to remind him that he was always ready to take you from him. "I certainly intend to."

"Loki." Out of patience, Thor pushed back from the screen, causing it to blip away, and turned to fix Loki with an angry glare. "Why are you trying to make me jealous?"

"Why should you be jealous, brother? After all, I befriended her on your orders, did I not?"

***

You were almost to Thor's office, your hands in your pockets, the right toying with the earring there when the sound of raised male voices had you lifting your brows. It occurred to you that living with both Thor and Loki was not going to be peaceful. Up until this afternoon, you'd been nothing but excited.

The discovery that Thor had had his ex-girlfriend as a guest but had not mentioned it either before or after the fact had put something of a damper on your enthusiasm. However, Astrid's sincere and sweet rush to reassure you had given you pause. You were, at least, determined to remain calm as you asked Thor what the hell. You would lose your shit only if and when his explanation proved inadequate. As for the location of said earring, you knew you had a tendency towards cynicism, but you doubted it had been left in that exact place on accident. The only question was whether Dr. Foster left it there, or Loki.

You had every intention of asking Loki what the hell, also.

Astrid had been utterly delighted, both with her shoes and with the pictures. She'd had a run-in of her own with HMG and was happy to help her new best friend (she really loved the shoes) get revenge for both of them. Astrid knew exactly which gossipy guard's sister was the best friend of HMG's wife's personal assistant. You figured that would be enough degrees of separation to keep both you and Astrid out of it.

Your stomach was already churning, and the dread was shimmering up your spine at the tone in Thor's voice when you got close enough to understand what he was saying. At the words Loki, why are trying to make me jealous? your feet slowed without your brain getting involved in the situation. At Loki's response, you stopped in your tracks. After all, I befriended her on your orders, did I not?

You'd never before known that you could actually feel your heart break. For all that emotion came from the mind, there was still a pain in the chest. Even as the betrayal crashed down upon you, as your breath caught at the enormous agony of it, a calm and detached part of your mind wondered at the physical reaction to something wholly emotional. You latched onto that calm and detached part, knowing only that would get you through the next moments.

You flinched at the sarcasm you could hear in Thor's voice, the warm rumble sounding threatening for the first time. "It’s evidently been a terrible hardship for you."

"‘Charm her, lure her, seduce her if you can.’ Your words, brother." Loki's voice was a taunt and had you leaning on the hallway wall, needing the support to stay on your feet. Every word felt like a blow. "Only now, when I’ve proven her true, you want to pretend I’m encroaching?"

Your eyes closed at the words proven her true. The fucking hypocrite hadn't trusted you but had been lying to you the entire time.

"If you're not encroaching, why do you seem determined to prove her untrue?" Thor's voice held a bitterness you'd never heard before. You couldn't understand why Thor had lied to you, how he could claim to love you when he so obviously didn't trust you. Unless this had never been about you, in which case you were what you had always truly feared: a pet, nothing more than a rope for two spoiled boys to play tug-of-war.

"If you think so highly of her," Loki's voice was bored, as though he were only asking to be polite, "why is it so hard to believe that I might simply like the silly creature?" Thor didn't respond, but the look that flickered across his face sparked Loki's temper. For the first time, he sounded like cared. "It’s not, and that’s the problem. I wasn’t supposed to be myself when I charmed her, was never supposed to actually get attached in any way." There was a pause, then he continued, his voice calm and mocking once more. "My apologies. In the future, you may want to make such commands explicit."

You'd had enough. "But then how would he maintain plausible deniability?" The words were out of your mouth before you had a chance to think about them, but you didn't want them back. You were angrier than you'd ever been in your life and you knew you needed to use it before it ran out and left you the broken wreck you knew were going to become. You'd never had two people break your heart on the same day, but here you were. Maybe it was what you deserved for presuming to fly so close to the sun. You pushed off the wall and closed the last couple of feet to Thor's open office door.

You hoped that one day the sight that met your eyes would seem comical. Both men looked dumbfounded, as though they had been so caught up in their argument that they had completely forgotten the possibility that they might be overheard. The expression of dawning horror on Thor's face only hurt, so you focused instead on Loki and on the flicker of sly satisfaction you saw fly across his face. You used the rage it inspired to dismiss him as unimportant, knowing it would infuriate him more than anything else. Frankly, in this moment he was unimportant; Thor's betrayal so much worse because you truly hadn't seen it coming. You'd always expected Loki to return to form in one way or another.

"You." You fixed Loki with a sternly disappointed glare. You pushed unsurprised exasperation into your tone, and by the irritated flare of Loki's nostrils, you'd scored your point. "I… can’t. With you. Today. I’m too pissed and need to focus. Take the escape hatch and be grateful."

To your surprise and secret gratitude, Loki said nothing more, merely inclined his head and walked out. You stepped back to let him pass, and it took everything you had to not punch him as hard as you could in his sexy brooding poet face. Even the knowledge that you'd be more likely to damage your hand than his face couldn't stop you; only your stubborn pride could do that.

Once Loki was gone, you stepped into the room. Thor still stood behind his desk where he'd stood to yell at Loki when, with a mocking lift of your eyebrow, you pointedly closed the door behind you. As you walked forward to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk, Thor finally spoke. "Plant, I—"

"Do not call me that." You cut him off quickly, unable to stand the sound of that nickname in the rumble you loved so dearly. The sound of your heart crumbling apart lived in that beloved thunder. You leaned forward to set the earring on the desk in front of you. "Do you know what that is, Thor?" He didn't answer, only closed his eye. "No? You want to guess where I found it?" Your voice was sweet as candy laced with strychnine. At the sound, Thor dropped into the chair, resigned to his fate. Hopeless. "Or do you already have a pretty good idea?"

You waited until Thor's eye opened and met yours. He'd never seen you so angry, but he wasn't a fool. Your eyes were also glittering with tears. His muscles were bunching to propel him to action, his heart leading and desperate to soothe away the desolate look in your eyes, but the hardness on your face stopped him from moving. Harshly, you accused, "And you have the nerve to distrust me?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, well then." You scoffed, and mockery coated every word. "You're sorry. Problem fucking solved." You sat back, spread out in the chair in a posture of furious disdain. "I was on my way down here to ask you about that," you gestured, and Thor saw something in your eyes he'd never thought to see, coldness, "to give you a chance to explain. Loki may have called me 'pet', Thor, but you made me feel like one."

You reached out and picked up the earring, twirling it between your fingers by the post and watching the afternoon light sparkle through its facets. Such a pretty thing to be the beginning of the end. You looked up when Thor remained silent, and the pain on his face only spiked your rage. A snarl in your voice and on your lips, you went on. "I came here today to tell you that I’d figured it out, and I'd done it. I’d rearranged my entire life for you. I thought it would be worth it, because I thought the one person in this world that mattered didn’t see me as a pet. I am not surprised that I’ve lived to regret that decision, but I am perturbed that it happened so quickly."

Thor's continued silence, his face growing more and more white with every word out of your mouth, his face twisting in pain, only served to pour gasoline on the inferno about to burst into full and cheerful flame. "I know you've got trust issues. I get it. But that does not excuse what you've done." You were nearly yelling now, but it was the disgust that cut Thor to the quick. "Seduce her if you can!? How dare you!? How fucking dare you!?"

You were shouting at this point, but you couldn't stop yourself. Thor finally spoke, the pained rage in your voice cutting through the agony blocking his own. "Y/N--"

"No!" You bellowed to cut him off as you shot to your feet. You had thought you wanted him to speak, to explain himself, but the moment you heard your name in his gorgeous rumble, you knew if you let him continue you'd end up sobbing and you would not shed a goddamn tear until you were back home. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath. "No," you said again, more calmly and opened your eyes to look down into the face you adored. "No, Thor, I will not move here, I will not live with you." You tossed the earring onto the desk. "I can't trust you. I told you; betrayal is a dealbreaker. Commanding your brother to attempt to seduce me is a fucking betrayal. Goodbye, Thor."

You turned and walked toward the door. Your hand was on the knob when Thor spoke. "Please." You paused, the anguish in the single word catching at your weeping heart and stopping you even against your will. "I don't want to lose you." You closed your eyes against the tears threatening to fall but didn't turn around.

"Then you shouldn't have lied to me."

As the door closed behind you, Thor sat alone in silence, watching the earring sparkle mockingly on his desk.

You walked quickly, but at a pace carefully under a run. You could still see through the sheen of tears coating your eyes, but the world had become a wobbly, warped mess. You strode with purpose back to Thor's quarters to pick up your bag, determined to leave as little of yourself here as possible. You'd never had a heartbreak like this, the kind that's so huge it feels like grief, like you were mourning the future you would now never have.

Worse, to find out that so much of what had come to this point had been, if not a lie, tainted with dishonesty was yet another thing to grieve, the death of all you'd thought you had. Once you had your bag, you looked neither left nor right, acknowledged no one as you walked quickly to the door that led to the jet and escape.

"Lady!?" The sound of Astrid's sweet voice stopped you at the door to the vehicle bay. At this point, she was the only Asgardian with that ability. She ran up, her face stricken, and you realized you really had made a friend here. You choked back a sob and threw your arms around her in a quick hug.

"I have to go, but I'll be back, I promise." You didn't know how you got the words out past the tears clogging your throat, but Astrid seemed to understand. She nodded and hugged you back, but she didn't try to hold you when you pulled away to run outside.

As soon as the jet was at its cruising altitude and pointed toward New York and home, you put on the autopilot, buried your face in your hands. You couldn't cry yet; you had to stay calm until you were no longer flying a jet tens of thousands of feet above the surface of the Earth. Your heart was wailing, but you held on but for an occasional choking sound that escaped every time you forced the shriek of pain back down.

Bucky was waiting with open arms as soon as you stepped off the jet. You had called him while on your way home, told him what had happened. He'd been appropriately infuriated on your behalf and had promised to meet you as soon as you arrived. He was as good as his word, enfolding you in muscular, comforting arms and holding you close as you finally let go and sobbed. He basically carried you inside, but instead of taking you to your rooms, he took you to his and Steve's.

You didn't argue, especially when Bucky more or less handed you over to Steve, who also folded you close and rocked you back and forth. You couldn't stop crying, but Steve's arms were even more comforting than you'd imagined. You were too wracked with grief to notice when Steve settled you on the couch, but you noticed Bucky's arms coming around you from the other side. Squeezed between super soldiers, you poured onto them all the anguish in your broken heart.

After you calmed, Bucky made you laugh with the offer of triple chocolate brownies and four different kinds of Ben and Jerry's. It healed your heart just a little when he turned on Hot Fuzz, handed you a glass of pinot noir and a brownie, then settled onto the couch at your back, with your legs across Steve's lap. Though it was only a few months ago, it felt like a million years when you'd told Bucky about your Breakup Triage Kit: comedy, wine, and chocolate. You adored him for remembering and taking care of you.

You were fairly embarrassed when you woke up the next morning still on the couch, laying between Bucky's legs with your back against his chest, his flesh arm around you under your breasts. Steve was laying with his arms around your hips and his head on your stomach. Bucky's metal hand rested on Steve's shoulder while Steve's temple rested against Bucky's flesh arm. You would sneak out, but you were completely tangled up in the two men. You'd never been this physically comfortable with either man, but apparently comforting you through a broken heart had changed your relationship. You hoped to god it wasn't going to cause any more grief or drama; you needed a fucking break already.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you groan aloud. With a roll of your eyes, you let your head fall to the side to meet the mischievous emerald gaze of the lithe god standing across the room. He looked both amused and annoyed, and to your surprise seemed to be keeping the men pinning you down from waking.

"Ahem." His lips curled in a mocking smile as he took in the tangle in front of him. The three of you were fully clothed, and there was nothing sexual about the way either man was embracing you, but there was something undeniably intimate about the curl and curve of bodies asleep together on the couch. Loki filed the image of this tableau away in case it became necessary or amusing to describe it to someone.

You closed your eyes in response to that mocking smile, wondering when exactly your life had become a clusterfuck. "Oh, for fuck's sake,” you groaned, insult and disbelief warring for control.

"Charming, as always, my dear." Loki chose not to comment on your current… predicament… aware that his silence would be more effective in what he wanted to achieve here today.

You rolled your head back to stare at the ceiling. It was more comfortable here, your head pillowed comfortably on Bucky’s sternum. You could hear the taunt in Loki’s voice, the invitation to play, but you could not find within you any answering warmth. You were too sad and too tired to care about dancing to his tune for any reason. Your voice infinitely weary, you sighed. "Loki, why are you here?"

Loki was sorry to hear the exhaustion in your voice. He adored trying to outwit and out-manipulate you and he hated hearing his favorite adversary so weak. His voice softened along with his guarded heart. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" You wanted to look at him, surprised to hear sympathy in his tone, but you didn't have the energy to really care. You'd long ago purged all the rage and pain in tears and sleep and all you had left was a kind of vaguely exasperated apathy. You had no defense, no deftness, and so opted to not even try to dance or dodge but spoke bluntly with no attempt to hide how you felt.

"You know why." Loki's voice was gentle, and you frowned at what sounded like sincere remorse in his tone. You couldn't dare believe that he actually felt sorry for lying to you, but you found yourself wondering if you could get a straight answer out of him for once.

"Did you put the earring on the nightstand so that it would catch the light?”

"Yes." You tilted your head to look at him again and he smiled slightly. "I wanted you and Thor to fight on your first day there so you'd spend the evening with me, instead. I thought it'd be funny."

You were scowling warily at Loki's half-smile, confused by his posture of honest confession. "Ha." Loki snorted, and your lips twitched against your will. His smile started to widen until you asked your next question, still mired in skepticism despite the lack of artifice. In fact, his guileless demeanor only exacerbated your suspicions instead of alleviating them. "Did you plan for me to overhear you and Thor?"

For the first time since you'd met him, his eyes softened with what looked like real tenderness. If you didn't know better, you'd think Loki genuinely cared for you. "No," he said, gently, and part of you wanted to believe him, "I wanted him to tell you the truth. I didn't want you angry enough to leave."

You told yourself to harden yourself against him, that he was still playing with you, but you heard yourself ask, "Why do you care?" Your heart was aching; Thor wasn't the only one who'd broken your heart. Though you'd never been foolish enough to fully trust Loki, you'd believed his feelings for you, his friendship, at least, to be true.

Loki waved his hand dismissively, and you saw his discomfort with the honest emotion in the gesture. "Because you're my pet."

You would not play along with this anymore. You would not allow anyone, even in jest, to make you something less. "No, I'm not," you answered and turned your face all the way to the wall. When you'd felt respected, cared for, it had been one thing. Discovering how little regard either man had had for your feelings and dignity made the 'pet' joke a lot less funny.

Loki had never heard your voice so cold, was shocked by the finality in the dismissive movement of your head. He hadn't known, when his brother asked him to befriend you, that he would come to like you. If he had known a human could charm him so, he'd have been on guard against just such an eventuality, because to deliberately deceive in just such a way requires detachment. Because he hadn't known, you'd gotten under his skin. He didn't want to lose his friend.

Loki sighed, and the melancholy in his tone almost had you turning your head. You held out, but surprise had you listening despite yourself. "Because I’m actually quite fond of you, my silly little human."

Your head snapped back around. You couldn’t help it. Loki had never given you so clear a glimpse into the man that lived behind the mask. He was giving you what he could, and the part of you that reminded you to love people as they are rather than how you want them to be spoke up for the first time in Loki’s defense.

That little voice pointed out that you’d never expected honesty from Loki, one of the many reasons you’d still not act on any attraction. A dealbreaker is a dealbreaker, after all. But for a friend you could make an exception when deceit is a fundamental aspect of the friend’s personality.

You also didn’t expect Loki to apologize. You’d no more expect the sun to apologize for shining, or fire for burning. His very presence, his careful words told you he cared.

Unless he’s up to something and needs to charm his way back into our good graces. The cynical voice in your head may have been unkind, but she wasn’t wrong. Still, trying to figure out what mischief Loki was up to was part of the fun of being his friend. You wouldn’t change him for worlds. You knew you’d end up forgiving him.

But not today.

“Well, now.” Your voice was dry and mostly unamused, but the strident tone told Loki his work here was done. “This is a red-letter day. You gave me the unvarnished truth and you were mostly honest about your feelings.” Loki shot you an unrepentant grin and you had to fight to keep the sneer in your face. The burning insult still raged under the surface of your skin, however, and kept you sarcastically steadfast even as you continued. “I love you, too, Loki. I'm so mad at you right now that I could strangle you, but I love you.”

Loki was shocked to hear the words pass your lips. Even as part of him cringed away, a small but vocal part of him gloried in the word, swamped in gratitude for your open and generous heart. “I’ll be waiting when you forgive me, dear one.”

With a last unusually warm and sweet smile, Loki shimmered into nothing. The next moment, both Bucky and Steve began to stir. Steve’s pretty face lifted, a red crease imprinted in his cheek from a wrinkle in your t-shirt.

Bucky’s voice rumbled at your back. “This is gonna sound weird, but, doll, is your superpower being insanely comfortable? I slept like a baby.”

“Me, too,” Steve said, bashfully, carefully and respectfully disentangling himself and allowing you to sit up. “I don’t know how that happened, but it was nice.”

Your broken heart healed a little at the sweetness of these two, the kindness they’d shown in tucking you between them and protecting you until you could stand on your own.

Your voice low, and a little shy as the change in your friendship was still new and uncertain, you murmured, “Thank you. Both of you.” You leaned forward and kissed Steve on the cheek, then turned to do the same for Bucky. “Nobody has ever taken care of me like that before.”

(Except Thor.) You had a new train of thought to torment yourself with now: constant reminders of everything you had and lost with Thor. Wasn’t this going to be fun. You focused back on Steve, who looked as though he could hear your thoughts and had nothing but sympathy. “I needed my friends last night, and you guys more than delivered.”

You patted both men, Bucky’s arm and Steve’s chest, before you stood up, a little wobbly still. Each held out a hand to help steady you.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you said, smiling, and if the smile was heartsick around the edges, neither of them would be rude enough to mention it, “I’m going to go cry in the shower, then I’m going to make an absolutely enormous breakfast for my heroes.”

You weren’t entirely certain why, but you decided to keep the visit from Loki to yourself.

Part Eight: Aphelion here

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90 notes · View notes

voiceofreader · 5 years

Note

A piece where Shinsou gets a love confession from a super kind fem reader from class but he politely declines since he likes another beautiful girl. The reader is heartbroken but accepts it. Shinsou gets with the beautiful girl but he realizes quickly she is egotistical & only liked him for his popularity & looks. One day he overhears a conversation with the reader & her friend about why she liked Shinsou (she lists the good qualities he has) & Shinsou regrets rejecting her & forms a crush.

so this really didn’t fully follow your request 100%, but I had a lot of fun writing it and really got into it. So….. i hope you like it too.

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader (fluffy)

A cold breeze brought down several flower petals, also sending a shiver through your entire body. For spring, it was pretty cold still.

You watched Shinsou in nervous anticipation. You didn’t know what his response would be. You were just two classmates and you just confessed your crush on him. You two barely spoke to one another and yet you put a note on his desk requesting him to meet you after school.

You liked him a lot. You could barely talk to him. You always got so flustered when your eyes met his, when he’d catch you looking at him.

You couldn’t tell what he would say.

He stared at you after you got done stuttering out your confession.

He looked off to the side, uneasily, and placed a hand on the back of his neck. “Look, y/n, you’re a nice girl, and you’re pretty and all, but I can’t accept your feelings. I like someone else.”

You brought your head down, looking down as your eyes slowly filled with tears. “Oh.” You mumbled out in response. “I mean, I’m flattered you feel that way, but you know. You can’t really control who you like and I have a thing for someone else and you know, I’m not gonna lead you on or whatever.” Shinsou continued on. You nodded.

“I know we’re not really friends or anything, but I hope this doesn’t change anything between us. I won’t act different around you, or anything.”

You didn’t reply. Like, you had told yourself before you put your plan in action, you couldn’t get your hopes up because you had no idea if Shinsou would even remember your name.

You two weren’t friends. The only real interaction you two had was from the Sports Festival.

And the random times in class where you two had to interact. You were too shy around him to ever do anything. You couldn’t say hi to him in the mornings, or ask how he was. And it wasn’t like you were a reserved, quiet girl. You weren’t as outgoing as some people, but you weren’t afraid to talk to people you didn’t know.

It was just every time Shinsou was around, your mind went blank.

The only way you knew what he liked was from your friend, Jitsuko, who had a quirk that was like a fortune telling talent. She could tell you what things you enjoy, your personality, parts of your future. But very vague details.

Plus, being in class together for two years, it was hard not to eventually learn something about Shinsou. Like his devotion to become a hero.

You weren’t going to be a hero. Your quirk was useless compared to his. You could change your hair at will. The color, texture, thickness, length, you could do what you wanted with it. But you couldn’t like make it move or anything, so you couldn’t use it to be a hero. More than anything, you wanted to be a school teacher. It was lame against Shinsou’s dream to be a pro hero.

Shinsou started to turn away, to leave. “Wait!” You sprang up. He looked back at you, surprised by your sudden change of attitude.

“Can…Can I ask you who you like? Or just like, they’re in class with us?” You had to look down again, this time out of embarrassment.

“I trust that you won’t tell anyone? Just like I won’t tell anyone you just confessed to me?” He proposed in a more serious tone. You nodded in agreement. “It’s Reika Ito.” He confessed.

Reika Ito, the transfer student this year. She was absolutely beautiful with her blonde, long, wavy hair, and blue crystal eyes. She was like a model. She was tall, skinny and fit. She was the Momo Yaoyorozu of the General Studies course. She was absolutely beautiful and rich. Though, she wasn’t as smart or refined as Momo. Nor did she even have a great hero quirk.

She had a light quirk. She can emit any color light from her fingertips, like a flashlight. Though, it wasn’t her quirk that made her so desirable. It was mostly her beauty and her charismatic personality. There wasn’t a person who was attracted to females that didn’t eventually develop a crush on her.

You must’ve been making a face, because Shinsou then asked, “what? Got a problem with that?”

You shook your head and looked up at him innocently. “No. No, it was just that… Everyone likes her and I kind of thought you would’ve been different.”

“Different how? Oh, like different as in I’d like someone like you instead? Look, we don’t have anything in common, and we don’t talk at all. It’s not a surprise that I don’t like you. I’m going now.” And like that, he walked off, leaving you with a broken heart.

Though, you couldn’t let it get you that down. He was partially right. But he was wrong about one thing: You two had a few things in common, he just didn’t know anything about you.

Like, you both like cats, and riding bikes. You both like the same types of movies and books. You could’ve sworn that if you had the opportunity, you’d show him that you two could’ve been great friends and even maybe more.

But you liked him so much that you could barely talk with him.

You sighed and turned on your heel, walking in the opposite direction that Shinsou did.

The sound of your steps on the sidewalk towards the dorms was muted by the petals on the ground. You were sure Shinsou was probably staying back to go practice for the upcoming sports festival.

Lately, Shinshou was staying at the school to train until curfew, where he’d come back to the dorms, finally.

When you got to your floor, you were greeted by your best friend, Jitsuko, who lived in the room next to yours. She must’ve guessed it was you, who was coming up on the elevator.

“Y/n! How’d it go? When’s the wedding? Am I invited?” She bombarded you with questions. You gave her a sad smile. “Not anytime soon. He turned me down.”

“Ah, really? Is it because he’s gay?” Jitsuko followed you, as you entered your room, and tossed your bag on the floor, next to the closet doors. You plopped onto the bed. “No. I wish though. He likes Reika.” You sighed in your answer.

“Not another hopeless victim!” Jitsuko jumped on your bed, sitting cross legged. “Yep. He likes her. Didn’t give me a reason. Though, I don’t think I’d be able to handle hearing why he likes her. I barely made it without crying as is. But, I suppose it wouldn’t be hard to guess why he likes her. He’s just like every other guy, I guess. She’s absolutely beautiful! Her and her stupid pretty face, and irresistible charm, and her stupid hair!” You replied, grumbling.

“You could match her hair, you know?” Jitsu reminded. “Yeah.” You nodded, sitting up, matching her hair. The blonde, with darker blonde, natural highlights. The length going to your lower back, although it would be longer if it wasn’t so voluminous and wavy.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror across the room in the corner. You took in your appearance, combed your fingers through the soft hair. A tear escaped, falling down your face. “No, it’s not right though. I can’t make him like me by being like her.” You shook your head, your hair reverting to its appearance before. It wasn’t exactly the same hair you were born with, but you like this style on you. You liked the color, the texture, and you thought it brought out your eyes.

Looking at yourself, the way you were usually, you picked at your appearance, comparing it to Reika’s. Your eyes weren’t as bright, you weren’t as tall as her, your chest wasn’t as big, or perky as hers.

“He did call me pretty though.” You mumbled, shrugging. It was something at least.

“Well, when he finally realizes how fake she is, I’m sure he’ll be on his knees, begging for your hand in marriage.” Jitsu nudged you. You smiled at her ridiculous words of encouragement. “Now, come on. I can see some mochi ice cream in your near future!” She hopped off your bed, grabbing one of your arms, trying to pull you up with her. You were lucky to have her.

~ Some sort of transition of time?

“Oh man, that Todoroki and Midoriya! They have to be gay! Did you see them this morning? Todoroki is lusting for that broccoli ass!”

You rolled your eyes at Jitsuko, who even two days after the sports festival was still fangirling over the two pro hero students. “Since you’re a lesbian, I’m surprised you could be so obsessed over two guys.”

“Just because I don’t like dick, doesn’t mean they can’t, and doesn’t mean I can’t encourage it! But just like last year, their fight, and Midoriya encouraged Todoroki to use his fire? God! They need to make out so bad!” Jitsu turned around to face you, and walked backwards. Her face was lit up with fangirl excitement. “Didn’t you think Bakugou and Midoriya were gay for each other?”

“What the hell did you just say, you damn extra?!” A rough voice shouted. You looked behind you, seeing no one other than the infamous Katsuki Bakugou glaring at you with fire in his eyes.

You stopped walking and was speechless. How coincidental was this? You just so happened to be talking about him, the one time you’ve ever seen him walk this way? And right when he’s in earshot?

Katsuki Bakugou, the top student of the 2-A class. The winner of your year’s festival, twice in a row.

You clutched your school bag to your chest, in self defense. “We were just joking around. So, mister first place, make your way along.” Jitsu said, waving off the fiery blond psycho.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny! That was fucking stupid. Watch your back from now on, big eyes! Next time you piss me off, you’re fucking dead, got it?!” Bakugou sneered in your direction. “Y-yes sir.” You nodded furiously.

He scoffed and then continued walking on. As he turned a corner, you relaxed and let out a long breath. “I saw my life flash before my eyes!” You cried, though with an amused look on your face. It was in fact kind of funny that he heard you.

Jitsu burst out in wild laughter, clutching her stomach. You had to join in on her infectious laughing. “I can’t-… Believe… That just… Happened!” Jitsu said in between breaths, as she calmed down, wiping away her tears of joy.

You were also out of breath. “Yeah, you were the one who thought he was gay. But I’m the one he’s gonna kill. It’s hilarious.”

“Hey, maybe you should go for him instead of purple hair.” Jitsu teased as she led the way down the hall once more. “Are you deaf or something? I don’t believe he was just flirting with me or being nice back there. Why would I date a felon in the making?”

“I don’t know, I think he kind of just complimented you back there. You do have very big and beautiful eyes.” She shrugged. “He just said big, not beautiful. Besides, from what it seems like, he calls people by features he notices first because he can’t be bothered to remember names. Not like he even knows my name. I didn’t even make it through the first round this year.” You lightly argued.

“Okay, but if that’s true, then he noticed your eyes first. I think that’s something. Date the explosion boy!” Jitsu joked. “I’ll date him if the next time we ever speak, he doesn’t threaten my life,” you bargained, walking into the classroom. With a smile on your face still, you casually looked around the room, like you always did. Seeing how many of your classmates were there, and what was going on.

Your eyes stopped on two things in particular, and your smile dropped. In fact, it felt like your heart did too.

Shinsou and Reika hanging by Shinsou’s desk.

He had his arm around her shoulders. He had a smile on his face, and she was laughing about something.

Jitsuko noticed your sad look and followed where your eyes were. She forced you to your desk in the back, and plopped you down on your seat. She made her way over to a group of giggling girls. “All right girls, what’s the scoop? What’s with Shinsou and Reika?” she asked.

Mei, the head of the gossip in the class, scoffed at Jitsuko. “You mean you don’t know? Like everyone knows.”

“I’m sorry I don’t follow stupid locker room talk. So what’s going on with them?” Jitsu grumbled. “Well, there’s no confirmation, but Watanabe caught them sucking faces this weekend in Shinsou’s room. So rumor is that they’re totally a thing now after Reika saw how far Shinsou got in the festival.” Mei dished.

Hearing this, you crossed your arms on your desk, and threw your head into them. Jitsu came over and patted your back. “Knowing Reika, it might not last that long. He’ll be heartbroken and you’ll swoop in a mend his heart. I give it not even a week.” She suggested, lightheartedly.

But it didn’t end after a week, not even after a month, or the month after that.

It was a saturday night/sunday morning, after midnight. Jitsu who came back to the couch, after putting her dirty spoon back into the kitchen. You two were watching t.v. late at night in the common room, eating jelly. You two were the last ones up.

It was a rerun of an old rom-com drama. Boys Over Flowers, to be exact. A scene where Domyouji just had a fight with Makino for like the fifteen thousandth time. It was about his fianceé.

“See, you and Shinsou are like Tsukasa and Tsukushi.” Jitsuko said, coming back over to cuddle into you for warmth. She then yawned.

“We barely talk, nonetheless argue, or even have requited love for each other. I’m more like Shigeru. The girl who likes Tsukasa, regardless of the engagement, but he wants nothing to do with her.” You slumped down.

“Okay, but how about Reika is like Umi. You know, Tsukasa loses his memory and feelings for Makino and Umi swoops in, messing with his memories and making him think he really likes her and Makino is his enemy? It isn’t until the recreation of the elevator scene, except in the cabin and Tsukasa gets his memory back and remembers his feelings for Makino?” Jitsu jumped up.

“Not even close. Find me a character duo that’s like me and Shinsou. You know, the girl is too shy to talk to him, but is madly in love with him? And they never talk ever and then he starts dating the popular pretty girl even though she will never like him like the shy girl does because she can see him as person instead of just some cute boy with potential to be a big hero. Like does she know that his favorite manga at the moment is One Punch? Does she even like anime or manga? I bet not! But I do! And that was before I knew he did! Years before I even knew him. I like One Punch too, you know. I mean, I bet she’s only with him because of his quirk! And you know what? I don’t care about his quirk! I mean, it is really awesome and no doubt he’s going to be a big hero someday, but I also like him because of his passion, and his determination. He’s so smart and dedicated! He also likes cats! I like cats! I have 2 cats and I bet he’d love them! Also he’s really funny when he wants to be. I don’t think she’s ever laughed at one of his jokes. But I bet he doesn’t care that she doesn’t like him for the good qualities he has. He’s probably upstairs right now, dry humping her leg because he’s just a normal stupid boy who falls for the pretty girl!” You crossed your arms and pouted.

Maybe the sake jelly you had was getting to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have let Jitsu’s older brother buy it for you two.

“You’re wrong about that last part.” The deep voice from behind you made you jump. “Sh-Shinsou!” You squeaked in embarrassment, turning to see it was him, standing behind the couch, looking down at you. Did he hear you? How much did he hear? Though, it really didn’t matter because even if he heard just the tail end, it was still bad.

“You know, you’re not the only two people in this dorm who are awake. So don’t talk so loud like you are.” Shinsou grumbled at you, harshly. You lowered your head. Great, now he hated you.

“You know what? I think I’m going to bed. Night!” Jitsuko hopped up to her feet and ran up the stairs.

It was silent and awkward. Except for the low murmur of voices on the t.v.

“I’m sorry you heard that. I mean, I suppose I have no room to talk about you like that, so I’m sorry about that too.” You mumbled. He groaned, and came around the couch, and sat down next to you.

“You weren’t too off about some of that stuff. She really only saw me for the power I have. Right after I lost against Todoroki in the final round, she met me in the back and kissed me right there. It was weird, but you know. I was stupid and went with it. And these three months, I thought we were doing good. We got in this huge fight about a week ago about how she’s just trying to use me for my potential to be a hero. She was introducing me to her father who owns like three agencies. After two months of trying to get his approval of me, she kinda became distant to me. So I brought it up and we got in this huge argument. We haven’t really spoke in over a week, so I just went to you know, talk things out. I didn’t know if we’d work things out, or we would break up. Cause, like I thought I loved her and all, but this last week of not talking, and seeing her not bothered by it, talking to other guys and laughing at their jokes, it made me think. But I was willing to work through it. But.. I just went up to her room, well, a few hours ago and I found her making out with Murakami. So, I suppose things are over. So yeah. You were wrong about that last part.” He snapped at you at the last sentence.

You stared up at him with an unreadable expression, because you didn’t really know how to feel. You couldn’t feel happy because they were over, or that Shinsou was right there with you in the middle of the night. Because he was unhappy. And what you said probably rubbed salt into the wound.

“Look, I’m sorry. Like I said, it wasn’t my place to say anything like that. I didn’t really mean it. And I’m sorry about you and Reika, really.” You muttered out quietly. “So you didn’t mean the part where you like my dedication, or humor? Or that you like cats too and that you have two of them that I would love?” Shinsou darkly teased.

You let out a shaky laugh. “I suppose I did mean those things.”

Shinsou stole your jelly that you left on the table. Taking your spoon and everything. “So you really like me, huh? Still after all that time?”

“Yeah. I guess.” You shrugged. “You guess?” He wondered.

It wasn’t that you were losing feelings for him, nor were you catching feelings for someone else. It was just… since that weird encounter with Bakugou, he seemed to bump into you a lot and his threats were getting less severe. So you were really thinking about trying to get over Shinsou.

“I mean… I don’t know. Isn’t it weird hearing someone tell you their crush on you? I mean, you don’t even know me.” You puffed out your cheeks. “It’s kinda nice hearing someone talk about me in a nice way. So if you want to continue inflating my ego, I wouldn’t mind. I could kind of use someone gushing about me in a pathetic way right now.” He shrugged, smiling weakly, looking at the television.

You looked up him through your eyelashes, refusing to make eye contact with him. “Is it really that pathetic?” You asked in a small voice. Did he really look down on you?

“I suppose not. But no one normal talks about the person they have a thing for like that.”

“It’s not my fault! I had a sake jelly!” You raised your voice, although more in playful defense. “Yeah? Then you really can’t handle your alcohol.” He scoffed.

You didn’t know what to say, so you decided to turn your attention to the t.v., trying to really focus on the dialogue between Makino and Rui. But Shinsou’s presence kept gnawing at you.

“So… Tell me about yourself. Besides anime and cats. What else do you like?” Shinsou asked making you wince in surprise by his sudden question, only because you thought the conversation was done for.

“I like reading manga too. I like going to the park close to the train station and feeding the ducks. I like yakisoba noodles. Especially those noodles at Kameya Shinjuku Tentama Soba. (we’re gonna pretend this isn’t a noodle shop in Tokyo. I just couldn’t come up with a name on my own) “And then, I also like fruit tea.” You answered, thinking of the most random things you could on the spot.

“That’s a lot of things. But I’d like to go to that soba shop. You should take me some time.” Shinsou placed down the empty plastic container on the table, and went to grab another jelly. You really had a lot of them out. And you were planning to eat them all yourself. But you couldn’t be mad if it was Shinsou who you were sharing with.

“So, what do you like, Shinsou?” You confidently asked in return. “I like bike riding. Especially on nice windy days. I like lizards. I used to have two before I moved into the dorms. I like to go home and visit them during breaks. And I suppose I also like this jelly.” He looked down at the jelly in his hand, as he took another spoonful into his mouth.

Your heart was pounding hard in excitement. This was groundbreaking progress.

“So, catch me up on what’s going on in this show? Who is this Makino with? Is it the weird emo guy with the violin or the curly hair guy with some sort of trauma?” Shinsou commented with a confused expression.

You laughed at his ridiculous observation of the show. Shinsou took his eyes off the t.v. to look at you, with a small curling to his mouth. It was like a sad, lonely smile.

You could tell he was really hurt still by Reika. And you had no certainty that this was some blooming friendship. But you were going to try your best for him.

“All right, first we have to start from the very beginning. So Makino is a normal girl from a poor family and she by chance gets into this really rich school.” You started off, scooting closer to Shinsou. “Oh, okay, so it’s one of those shows. Poor girl goes to new school and she starts on the wrong foot of some rich guy, right?” Shinsou guessed. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’ve seen a lot of these.”

You were starting to feel tired, but your chest was beating fast enough to keep you up for however long it took until Shinsou would go to bed.

(fun fact: You two stayed up all night into the daylight and other students were up.)

#Shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha x reader #My hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #voiceofreader

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