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dadbodosamu · 3 years

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only you || part i

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: pseudocest, stepcest, cheating, wombfucking, semi-public sex (in an alley), extremely light dumbification, breeding kink, spit kink, Osamu has a dick piercing

4.5k words. thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this and reassuring me that it doesn’t suck lol

ao3 link here (aha its not too long mobile just sucks!!) part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You sighed as you tapped your fingers on the table. Your mom had decided it was high time for you to meet your new stepdad, who you had put off meeting for the past three years. You smiled as you remembered the perfectly timed appendicitis that had you missing the wedding. You couldn’t have planned it better if you tried.

Your dad had only passed away a little under four years ago, leaving your mom to remarry only six months later. You’d opted to live with your grandmother, citing her health as a reason to live with her on her farm. Your plan had worked perfectly, and you hadn’t had to meet Osamu for three years.

Now though, with your grandmother in the hospital, your mom thought it was a great time for you to come and visit and finally meet the great Osamu.

“Osamu should be home any minute,” your mom said, smiling happily over the takoyaki she was making. “He’s bringing your favourite!”

“Yay,” you said, unenthusiastically. You glanced at the time on your phone. You were almost wishing Osamu to be here so you wouldn’t have to spend another awkward second with your mom.

You and your mom hadn’t been close to begin with, you always being a daddy’s girl from the day you were born. And after remarrying so quickly, you’d drifted even further apart. At this point, you had nothing to speak to her about.

“I’m home!” Someone called. The door slid shut behind them and you glanced around, waiting for them to appear in the kitchen. “And I brought umeboshi onigiri!”

The man who stepped into the kitchen nearly knocked you out of your seat.

He was handsome. Devastatingly, heartachingly, handsome. He was tall, with brown hair and deep grey eyes, and thick. His t-shirt was pulled taut over his broad shoulders and his thighs in his shorts were almost indecent.

The next thing you noticed was that he was young. Probably only a handful of years older than your twenty-one, definitely closer to your age than your mom’s.

God, why had you put this meeting off? Had you known your mom was married to an actual god, you would’ve actually visited.

“Hey, honey,” your mom greeted, smiling at him. Your stomach twisted as she leaned over, puckering her lips for a kiss. Osamu pecked her lips quickly and turned towards you.

“Hey, I’m Osamu,” he greeted, smiling widely at you. Your heart skipped. “I heard ya like umeboshi onigiri so I made you some.”

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered. “I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet ya,” Osamu said. “Was starting to think ya were avoiding me!”

“More like she was avoiding me,” your mom said. “She was always a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh?” Osamu asked, looking at you. Your cheeks burned. “Well, I’d never try to replace yer dad, but if ya ever need some daddy/daughter time, I’m here for ya.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid.

“I really appreciate that,” you said.

“Oh, I’m so glad you two are getting along already!” Your mom squealed. She carried the takoyaki to the table and smiled as she sat down. “Dinner is finally ready.”

“Itadakimasu,” you mumbled, already loading your plate up with onigiri and the other food on the table.

“So, how is university going?” Your mom asked.

You shrugged as you slurped up some noodles. “It’s going. Made nationals.”

“Oh? What sport do ya play? I don’t think yer mom ever mentioned,” Osamu said. You rolled your eyes. Of course she hadn’t mentioned volleyball, it wasn’t like you’d been playing since elementary school or anything.

“Volleyball,” you said. “I was on the Niiyama girls team in high school. Hoping to go pro after uni.”

“Volleyball? I played in high school! My brother, Atsumu, and I were on the Inarizaki team,” Osamu exclaimed.

“Not Miya Atsumu, right?” You asked, excitedly. “MSBY Black Jackals Miya Atsumu?”

“The very one!” Osamu said.

“No way! They’re my favourite team! I have a signed poster in my room, it’s my prized possession!” I exclaimed. “I heard a few members are going to the Olympics this year.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she plays volleyball,” Osamu said, glancing at your mom.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” your mom said.

“We should go to a game sometimes,” Osamu said. “I can get an extra ticket to the MSBY, Adlers game later this week.”

“That sounds great!” You said, smiling widely.

Your mom ate in relative silence as you and Osamu traded stories about your volleyball times, only ever inputting something every once in a while. After dinner, Osamu found a Sendai Frogs match.

“I’m currently in the nation’s top 3 setters,” you said, proudly. “I’m number two behind Takao Michi.”

“I’ll have to start coming to yer games,” Osamu said. “See ya in action.”

“I’d like that,” you said, honestly.

“Why don’t ya come to work with me tomorrow? I can introduce ya to a few of my friends that are in town,” Osamu said.

“Absolutely,” you said.

“Don’t get me wrong though, I’m putting ya to work while yer there,” Osamu said. Your mom yawned.

“You all have me worn out from all this volleyball talk,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Night, mom,” you said as she stood up.

“Osamu?” She questioned, turning back to glance at him.

“Oh, we’re going to stay up a bit longer,” he said. “The Schweinden Adlers have a match after the Frogs.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. You could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Osamu waited until you heard the bedroom door click shut before speaking.

“I know this is probably too much information about yer mom but she must think I’m some sex robot,” Osamu said, huffing. “A guy can only do so much.”

You crinkled your nose. “Gross, I did not need to know that.” You tried to hold steady but laughter bubbled up through your lips. Osamu laughed loudly and you joined him, holding your gut with how hard you were laughing.

“We need- we need to be- to be quiet!” Osamu laughed. “She’s trying to- tryin’ to sleep.”

You giggled a few more times before quieting down.

“So, how old are ya?” Osamu asked, standing up. “Old enough for a beer?”

“I’m twenty-one,” you said. “Old enough for a beer.”

“We got wine coolers if ya would rather have that,” Osamu said, stepping into the kitchen.

“Please,” you said. “So, how old are you? Can’t help but notice you’re quite a bit younger than my mom.”

“Twenty-five, twenty-six in October,” he said, grabbing a beer and a wine cooler out of the fridge.

“Follow up question,” you said, “and I don’t mean any offence, I’m sure she’s great in some ways, but why my mom? I mean, surely there’s no shortage of people your age that are wanting you.”

Osamu took a long drink from his beer before answering. “Ask me after I’ve drunk a few of these.”

You pursed your lips and took a sip of your fruity drink. “Fine,” you said. “Then let’s play a game. Every time the Adlers score, I’ll ask you a question and every time the Tachibana Red Falcons score, you get to ask me a question.”

“Deal,” Osamu said.

“Oh! Score!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “Another untouchable spike by Ushiwaka!”

“Shush, yer mom,” Osamu giggled. You rolled your eyes and chugged the rest of your fifth drink.

“You shush, it’s my turn,” you said, plopping down on the couch next to Osamu. “So, now tell me,” You hiccupped. “My bad. Now tell me, why my mom? Why not someone your age? Because I’m gonna- I’m gonna be honest, you’re hot and my mom is, like, she’s not, like, ugly, but, like, she’s, like, fifty.”

“I could just like cougars,” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes and popped the top on your next drink.

“Tell the, the truth, ‘Samu,” you slurred.

“Fine, but this stays between us, as best friends,” he said.

“Bee ef efs,” you slurred.

“Yer mom helped fund my restaurant,” he said. “So, I felt bad. She’s so nice and sweet. So, I married her.”

“Now you have a step kid that’s only four years younger than you,” you said.

“Yeah, she didn’t really mention ya before we got married,” he said. Osamu leaned in close to you. “She didn’t mention how attractive ya were either.”

Your cheeks flushed. You turned your head away from him, looking back to the television.

“Oh, Falcons scored,” you said. “It’s your turn to ask a question.”

Osamu took a sip of his beer before speaking. “Why have ya been avoidin’ yer mom?”

You took a large gulp from your drink. “I haven’t been avoiding her,” you lied. Osamu blinked at you slowly.

“Fine, fine!” You exclaimed. You sipped from your drink, then responded, “Mainly because she remarried so quickly after Dad died. And to someone only four years older than me. But we’ve never been close. She and I never really saw eye-to-eye. She was the love of my dad’s life and he was just another guy to her. Not to mention, she’s never been remotely interested in anything in my life, she’s always been so self-absorbed. I doubt she even knew I still played volleyball, that’s probably why she didn’t mention it to you.”

Osamu stayed silent as you chugged the remainder of your drink.

“I know it’s probably not comforting, but I’ll be there for ya if ya need me,” Osamu said. “Even if yer mom and I separate, I consider ya a friend now.”

Osamu’s words were oddly comforting. You nodded as you reached for yet another wine cooler.

“I’m oddly comforted,” you said, popping the top easily. You fiddled with the top, thinking of what to say next.

“Another Falcons score,” Osamu said. “My turn again.”

“Question away,” you said.

“Can’t think of any,” Osamu said. He yawned.

“Tired already?” You teased, elbowing him in the side. “Old man.”

“I’m twenty-five,” he argued, yawning again. “But I am going to bed. Let’s call a rain check on our game.”

“Deal,” you said, raising your bottle to him. “Might as well go to bed, too. Night, Samu.”

“Night, Y/n,” Osamu said, standing up. He stretched out before padding down the hallway to your mom’s room.

You sighed loudly once you heard the door click shut. You gulped down your drink. “Good going, Y/n. You finally found a guy you like and he’s your stepdad.”

You finished your drink before gathering all the empty bottles and cans, throwing them in the recycling before walking towards your room. You collapsed onto your unmade bed and passed out before your head hit the pillow.

“Two salted salmon onigiri,” you said, placing the plate in front of the professional volleyball player. “And onion soup.”

“Go ahead and join them,” Osamu said, placing a few plates on the same table. “I’ll bring you out some umeboshi onigiri.”

“Thanks,” you said. You could barely contain your excitement as you took a seat between Miya Atsumu and Bokuto Koutarou.

“So, yer a setter?” Atsumu asked, taking a bite of his onigiri. You nodded.

“Number two in the nation,” you said.

“She’s better than you were, Tsumu!” Hinata Shoyo exclaimed. You smiled widely.

“In high school, I was ranked number one under nineteen in my second and third years,” you said. “I even got to play in the junior Olympics in high school. We only won silver, though.”

“We’re playing the Olympics this year,” Bokuto said. “And a few of our friends from the Adlers.”

“Kageyama Tobio, Ushijima Wakatoshi, and Hoshimiumi Kourai?” You asked. “I’ve been keeping up with everyone considered for the Olympics.”

“Maybe you’ll be playing in the next Olympics,” Sakusa said.

“That’s the goal,” you said, smiling. Osamu set a plate in front of you. “Thank you.”

“So our little star setter is here for the next week,” Osamu said, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. “We should play a game while she’s down, see how good she really is.”

“I’m game!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I wanna see those number two in the nation skills!”

“Probably nowhere near the level of you guys,” you said.

“We do have a few years on ya,” Atsumu said, ruffling your hair.

“Literally only four,” you said, fixing your hair.

“Leave the kid alone, Tsumu,” Osamu said.

“Hey, she’s my niece now, I reserve the right to tease her,” Atsumu said.

“Uncle Tsumu,” you teased.

“That’s right, Uncle Tsumu and Daddy Samu,” Atsumu said.

Your stomach flipped as the MSBY boys laughed. Osamu looked down at you and winked. You clenched your thighs together.

“All right, quiet down before ya disturb my payin’ guests,” Osamu said.

“Lunch on Samu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed. Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Once yer finished, I want ya back in the kitchen,” Osamu said. He rubbed your back before walking into the kitchen.

“So, you plan on going professional after university?” Bokuto asked.

You nodded as the table fell into casual conversation.

“I already have offers to go play in France and Brazil,” you said, taking a bite of your onigiri.

“Brazil is fantastic,” Hinata said. “I played there for a while.”

“You liked it? I’ve been debating back and forth between the two. Can’t decide which one I would enjoy more,” you said. “Does Brazil have good food?”

“The best! Unless you’re looking for Japanese food,” Hinata said. “There’s no good Japanese food.”

“Noted,” you said, smiling.

“What are you studying in school?” Sakusa asked.

“Education,” you said. “If volleyball doesn’t work out I want to teach Japanese in another country.”

“Smart,” Sakusa said.

“So, any boyfriends? Girlfriends? Significant others?” Atsumu asked.

You laughed. “With what time?”

“Oh, come on, there has to be someone!” Atsumu exclaimed. “We all find time for a lil’ somethin’.”

“There was a girl,” you admitted. “On my volleyball team, but we both cared more about volleyball than each other.”

“Any crushes?” Bokuto asked. He winked at you and flexed his arms playfully.

You pursed your lips. “And why should I tell you if I do?”

“Because we’re all best friends now!” Hinata shouted, slamming his hand on the table. He ignored the looks from the other customers.

“There is this guy I have my eye on,” you said. “He’s tall, nice, and beefy as hell.”

“Ooo, tell us more,” Bokuto said.

You shook your head. “No use talking about him. He’s strictly off limits.”

“He’s gay,” Atsumu said, nodding his head.

“What?! No!” You laughed. “He’s taken.”

“Ah, university relationships aren’t always serious, you can probably still get him,” Hinata said, waving away your worries.

“He’s married,” you said. The boys all hissed in sympathy.

“Ask for a threesome,” Atsumu said. Your face must’ve shown your disgust because the boys all laughed at you.

“She must be ugly,” Bokuto said.

“We don’t get along the best,” you said. You sighed as you looked down at your empty plate.

“Better get to work before Daddy Samu grounds you,” Atsumu teased.

You rolled your eyes, but stood up.

“It was nice meeting you guys,” you said. “I hope we can get a game together before I leave.”

“Oh, we definitely will,” Bokuto said.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said, smiling. You waved bye to them as you entered the kitchen.

Osamu was leaned over the stove top, stirring a large pot of soup.

“Have fun?” He asked, wiping sweat off his brow with the towel thrown over his shoulder. You nodded.

“They were all super nice,” you said. “I feel like we’re actually friends now.”

“That’s good,” Osamu said, smiling at you. “Ya wanna start putting together a couple of onigiri?”

“No problem,” you said, washing your hands quickly.

“We need five salted salmon and three umeboshi,” Osamu said. “And then out to table three.”

“Got it,” you said.

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly and smoothly. It was finally around midnight when the last customers finally left and you and Osamu could close down shop.

“Come into my office and I’ll show you how to count all the money,” Osamu said, locking the main doors.

You followed him into his small office.

“Okay, whenever you count the money, make sure the door is closed and locked behind you,” Osamu said, closing the door behind him.

You held your breath as he slowly slid past you, your chest brushing against his.

“A lil’ cramped in here, sorry,” Osamu said, sitting at his desk.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, sitting in the folding chair next to him.

“So, d’ya have a good day?” Osamu asked, casually thumbing through bills.

You nodded. “It was good! It was nice meeting your friends. I really liked them.”

“Ooo, any of ‘em catch yer eye?” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes.

“I already have my eye on someone,” you said.

“Oh?” Osamu questioned.

“He’s taken though,” you said. “Strictly off limits.”

“Ask for a threesome,” he said.

You laughed loudly. “Funny, Atsumu said the same thing. But no, I don’t get along with his wife.”

“Wife? That sucks,” he said, placing a wad of cash in an envelope.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Well, I, for one, think yer a catch,” Osamu said, sealing the envelope. “Anyone would be lucky to have ya.”

“Thanks, Samu,” you said, face burning. He patted your thigh.

“Anytime, princess,” Osamu said. You clenched your thighs together at the new nickname. “Well, we’re all done here, let’s get home.”

You trailed after him like a lost puppy as he double checked all the appliances were off and flipping the lights off.

You shivered as you stepped into the cool, night air.

“Cold?” Osamu asked, already peeling off his Onigiri Miya hoodie.

“Yeah, a little,” you said, gladly taking the hoodie from him. You tugged it over your head and breathed deeply. “Smells good. Half expected it to smell like onigiri.”

“It will soon,” Osamu said, smiling. “It’s new. Just got the shipment in last week.”

“I’ll have to get one,” you said.

“Keep it,” Osamu said. “Ya look cute in it.”

You blushed deeply. You bumped his shoulder with yours gently.

“It’s like, way too big,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “Oversized is in. Besides, I thought girls loved to steal guys’ hoodies.”

“Yeah, guys they like,” you said.

“Well, ya took it from me,” Osamu said, bumping your shoulder. “Ya must like me a little.”

“Whatever,” you said, cheeks burning. Osamu laughed.

“Someone has a crush!” He sang.

“Shut up! I don’t have a crush on you,” you said.

“Ya did call me hot last night,” he said.

“I was drunk, so it doesn’t count,” you said. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously.

“Ya have a crush on me, just admit it,” Osamu said. “I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise.”

“You’re my stepdad, in case you forgot,” you replied. “That’s basically incest, isn’t it?”

“So ya admit it?” Osamu asked. You shoved him playfully.

“I actually have a crush on Atsumu,” you said. “He’s the hotter twin.”

Osamu pushed you into an alley and caged you against the cool bricks of a building.

“Oh?” Osamu said. “Ya think Atsumu is the hotter twin?”

You nodded slowly as Osamu looked down at you.

“It’s the hair,” you squeaked.

“Oh, yeah, forgot that girls love a guy who doesn’t know what toner is,” Osamu said, leaning down. “I think yer lying.” His nose was nearly touching yours.

“I’m not,” you mumbled. Osamu’s hands moved from either side of your head to your hips.

“You are,” Osamu whispered, lips brushing against your ear. You shivered.

“And if I am?” You asked.

“I don’t like bad girls,” Osamu said. “Lying is grounds for punishment.”

“Punishment?” You asked.

“I’d bend ya over my knee and spank ya until ya begged for mercy,” he said. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s a good thing I’m not lying, then,” you said. By now, Osamu’s lips were nearly against yours, so close you could feel the heat from his breath on your lips.

Osamu ground his hips against yours, firmly pressing his hard on against you.

You bit your lip and glanced down. His cock was straining against his jeans, eager to be released.

“Tell the truth and I’ll think about not putting ya over my knee,” Osamu said, lips softly brushing against yours.

“You’re the hotter twin,” you said, putting your arms around his neck. “And I have a crush on you. And I want you to fuck me in this alley.”

“There we go,” Osamu said. He finally kissed you roughly, like he wanted to devour you. You moaned as he ground against you.

“Samu,” you moaned, pulling back. He wasted no time, kissing down your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin.

“Been thinkin’ about pushin’ this lil’ skirt up all day,” he growled, pushing your skirt up around your waist, revealing the pretty pink lace of your underwear.

“Please,” you gasped as he shoved his jeans and underwear down, releasing his cock. You nearly moaned at the sight of it, long and thick and leaking precum from the swollen tip.

“Gonna wreck this cute little cunt,” Osamu said, tugging your underwear down and letting them fall to the ground. He dragged the tip of his cock through your wet folds, teasing your clit and hole.

“Is- Is that a piercing I feel?” You asked, feeling cool metal against your warm folds.

“I’ll give ya a closer look later,” he said, teasingly pushing the tip in and out of your hole. “Wanna be in ya now.”

“Fill me up, please, Samu,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his skin. Your walls fluttered around nothing as he lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Good girl,” he muttered, lining his cock up with your hole. “Beg for my cock, princess.”

“Please, please, please!” You cried. “Want your cock in me, need it! Please, Samu, want you to fill me up.”

“Of course, baby girl, anything for my princess,” Osamu said, kissing you softly. He rutted his hips up into you, stretching you out suddenly.

You moaned loudly and let your head fall on Osamu's broad shoulder.

“So big,” you moaned. “Hurts.”

“Shh, shh, yer takin’ me so well, baby,” Osamu said. “Squeezin’ me so tight, wanna bust just bein’ in ya.”

You whimpered as Osamu slowly pulled out. He pushed back in slowly, giving you time to adjust to each inch. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until the swollen tip was kissing your cervix.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Gonna ruin ya.” Osamu pulled out until just the tip was in and slammed back into you.

You gasped loudly as his cock breached your cervix, going deeper than anything had ever been in you and stretching you more than anything ever had.

“Samu!” You cried, throwing your head back and digging your nails into the nape of his neck. “Fuck, harder, please!”

“Feel that, baby? I’m so deep in ya,” Osamu said. “Fuckin’ past your cervix, yeah?”

You nodded as you bit back your moans as Osamu pounded into you. You buried your head into his shoulder and bit down, quieting your too loud moans.

“Next time, ‘m gonna have ya somewhere ya can be loud as ya want,” Osamu grunted. “Wanna hear yer pretty, little moans.”

You let out a soft moan in his ear and he snapped his hips up harder into you.

“Ah, Samu,” you moaned, struggling to keep your volume down. “Gonna cum.”

He pinched your clit as you gushed around his cock. You looked down to where your bodies met and watched as your juices leaked down his cock, dripping on his heavy balls. You moaned.

“Gonna fill ya up, baby,” he growled lowly. “Come ‘ere.”

He pulled your head up by your hair and squeezed your cheeks until your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out. He gathered spit in his mouth and spat it on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” he said. He kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth and sucking your tongue. He kissed you messily, spit running down your chin and a thin strand of it connecting you two when he finally pulled back.

“Such a messy, little slut,” he said, slamming his hips against yours. “Taking my spit so well. Gonna take my cum like that?”

You nodded, unable to speak beyond gasps and moans as his cock abused your cunt.

“Can’t speak? Fucked ya dumb, huh?” Osamu asked. He chuckled. “My cock makin’ ya dumb, little baby?”

You whined. God, you wanted him to fill you up so bad.

“Cum. Inside.” You gasped out.

“Oh? Want me t’ breed ya? Make ya big and swollen with my baby?” Osamu asked, hips moving faster.

You nodded furiously. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles.

“Cream ‘round my cock one more time, baby,” he grunted.

“Samu!” You exclaimed. Your stomach tightened as your walls fluttered like crazy.

“Yeah? Gonna cum again for me?” Osamu asked. You let out a high pitched moan as the coil in your stomach snapped.

“Fill me up, please!” You moaned as you came. Osamu’s hips stuttered as he pushed into you deeply before painting your womb white. You cried out, letting your head rest against his shoulder as he moaned.

“Fuck, yer still so tight around my cock,” he hissed. Your walls fluttered. “Perfect little cunt, princess. Milkin’ me dry like a good girl.”

You whimpered as he slowly pulled out. Your legs went limp, falling from his waist.

“Can’t stand,” you mumbled, legs shaking with the weak attempt you made. Osamu held you up as he pulled his pants back up and pulled your panties back on.

“Come here, baby,” he said, swooping you up bridal style. “Let’s go home, princess.”

You nodded lamely as he carried you. You must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you heard was Osamu talking to your mother.

“She was practically dead on her feet,” Osamu said. “Fell asleep while I was counting the money.”

“You could’ve called, I would’ve brought the car,” your mom said. You felt Osamu shrug.

“It was no problem,” Osamu said.

“Well, go lay her down in her bed,” your mom said. “Then maybe she’ll be out for the rest of the night.” You frowned at her suggestive tone and cuddled deeper into Osamu’s chest.

“I’ll go lay her down,” Osamu said. He carried you down the hall and entered your bedroom carefully.

As he laid you down, you grabbed his arm and whined, “Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I gotta go to my own bed.”

“Don’t- Don’t fuck her,” you mumbled. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he said, softly brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s only you from now on.” You nodded. Osamu kissed your forehead before leaving you alone.

You blinked once, twice, before you were asleep.

#cai writes #samu thoughts #tw cheating #miya osamu smut #osamu miya smut #haikyuu smut #timeskip miya osamu #miya osamu #osamu miya #tw:incest

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trashlie · 2 years

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I refuse to believe there is an ending of 2521 that does not have Heedo and Yijin together. And it’s not just because I’m deeply obsessed with this pairing and need a happy ending or I’ll die (which might be true) but I think the very nature of the story insists on it, too, even if they try to psyche us out with the present story. I think there’s been a lot of moments specifically designed to make us frantic and worry - like ending episode 14 on “Congrats on the wedding” but I feel strangely certain that they will not destroy our hearts with the ending of this story. I can’t say I know HOW we’ll get there; two remaining episodes certainly makes me nervous, because it feels like a lot to reconcile, but in the grand scheme of things, it may not be as much as I fear?

I’ve seen some people try to rationalize that this is obviously a story of people coming into your life and being important but how that doesn’t always last forever because life keeps going on, or that it’s a story about “gaining and letting go” of I guess people and things in life. But.... honestly that’s NOT what this story has been telling us at all, so if we were to watch Yijin and Heedo actually drift apart, it would be completely at odds with the story told so far, wouldn’t it?

Who has actually come into anyone’s life and gone away? Jiwoong and Seungwan have had each other’s backs since day one. Seungwan’s mom has been on her side. Yurim’s family has gone above and beyond for her. She may be leaving, but even though she tried to make a clean cut, Jiwoong refused to stand for it. She’s not leaving his life - or their friend’s. Even when Yijin actually physically left, he was never truly out of Heedo’s life, because they remained connected to each other through unwavering support and belief in each other. If the story was about people coming and going, we’d have seen more of that. We’d have had to see Yurim leave and then lose contact with everyone - but there’s only two episodes left, so to show that would feel sloppy and rushed. Maybe they could have shown us Seungwan and Jiwoong drifted as he took interest in Yurim, but no, their friendship remains just as strong, just as important.

I don’t think it’s even about gaining and letting go, either. Heedo may not have initially gained Yurim’s friendship, but she persevered at becoming her rival and gained her friendship through the process. Although initially her career and opportunities were taken from her when her school cut their fencing team, Heedo fought to ensure she never had to give it up. Yurim does what is hard for her family, but I don’t think she’s “losing” anything - she made an active choice, and for her, what she gains far outweighs what she’s losing (and I think her time in Russia will not last a long time). Yijin lost literally everything, separated from his family, but he still learned to have the courage to find a new dream and start again. I suppose you could argue that his job at the current is presenting him difficulties that put him at odds wtih what he’s gained, but really that brings me to what I think the real theme of 2521 is.

From the very moment we meet Heedo, from the very first episode, this has been a story about finding the courage to fight for what you want. Heedo refuses to give up on fencing - and because she doesn’t, she develops her career and wins medals against her idol/rival. Yijin learns that he has to face what is overwhelming and scary, that like Heedo, he needs to go after it with all he’s got, and he comes back to Seoul and becomes a reporter. Yurim endures because she loves her family far more than her accolades, because what matters most to her is helping her family.

Rather than about receiving and losing, 2521 is about facing and chasing, about mustering courage, about the obstacles that trip us up and how we face and overcome them. And no, it does not always happen the way they want to. Seungwan quits school just shy of the csats and graduation, because her convictions are so important and she refuses to fold at this time. She will not be joining her friends in college and will be a year behind everyone else. But she faced her obstacle with courage and overcame it.

Yeji works hard to succeed in competition and still chooses to walk away, because she knows in her heart what she really wants. Jiwoong literally faced his absolute fear of driving to rush to not only tell Yurim goodbye, but to have his selfish moment and say what he really fees.

There’s numerous moments within Heedo and Yijin’s relationship, that further support that this is the real theme. Their individual careers threaten to pull them apart - now that Yijin has had to report on Yurim, he knows that there may one day be a time he has to do the same to Heedo, and it eats him up. And I think that’s an obstacle that’s been built up to us in a way that we came to anticipate it, that we will see them overcome, too. I think seeing Yijin sobbing in the tunnel the way she did will help Heedo come to see things from Yijin’s view - that his hands are tied by his career and sometimes we do things we don’t want to because the world is cruel and cold in that way. (And maybe she will hopefully also see that Yijin breaking the news was the best thing that could have happened for Yurim, that anyone else might have torn her apart, that no one but Yijin could have delivered the news in the most respectful way to her.)

So much of this story has been presented to us as people who overcome what challenges them, resolve the issues they face. They have developed such a healthy relationship, built it up SO MUCH that I don’t for one moment feel like the best they’ll give us is two episodes and then “but people drift and nothing lasts forever”; it’s not, in fact, in the theme of the story being told, which is that anyone can persevere if it’s worth it. Yurim and Yijin’s fathers both persevere even though it’s hard, for families they love. Heedo’s mother has persevered when she was never given room for capacity to grieve and had no room in her career to carve space to be a mom, because so much was already on the line. Yurim perseveres because she has shoulders such a heavy burden of guilt and had a family she wants to protect so badly she’s willing to leave home to do it.

And I think Heedo and Yijin will persevere, because they love each other so much that they must. Because Heedo guides Yijin to do what is right and courageous, because they both make each other better people, who mean so much to each other.

The opening and closing of episode 14 is absolutely designed to make us fear the worst - to think ahhh it’s been years since they last spoke, they seem so awkward and distant, to tug on our hearts. But if that’s the case, why would they reiterate their support for each other?

“Ever since the beginning, I give you my unwavering support to root for you, Ms. Na Heedo.”

“Wherever I am, I will give you my unwavering support Mr. Baek.”

That doesn’t read like the relationship of an report turned anchor and the athlete he uses to cover; it reads like I love you slipped between the lines.

“Wherever you are, I’ll make sure my support reaches you. I’ll take care of everything.”

If Heedo really married someone else, if they really drifted apart and were no longer important people in each others’ lives, then why these lines?

Maybe in the same way that Heeod’s mom has to hide her relationship to Heedo, Yijin and Heedo will find that hiding their relationship works best to not interfere with their careers - so that THEY can handle things TOGETHER the way they want. I think paralleling it with her mom would tie in really well, too; we’ve been made to better understand her situation, so it’s no longer just to show how alone Heedo was. For them to repeat the same pattern would be Heedo coming to understand why her mom handled things the way she did, too.

And though their conversation initially looked awkward, almost painful and wistful, going back through it again, you can also read it like two people trying VERY HARD to mask their real feelings - two people who maybe haven’t been able to see each other in a while due to their individual careers and miss each other but must not show it on the news.

idk. I have some hang ups with the present (with the actress playing adult Heedo) but I think I can trust the writers to not break our hearts. They wanted us to fall in love with this pairing, they wanted us to root for them and support them. Why would they take it all away, right?

Next week cannot come fast enough. Please give me the ending I’m looking forward to.

#twenty five twenty one #i started this post hours ago lmao god i took forever to get my feelings out and i still dont' think it's well written but look the point is #i think it would be a disservice to the story set up if the writers went with the heehee they went separate ways #why else would they spend so much TIME setting up that relationship and encouraging us to root for them?#not unless you want your audience to hate you #and the more i think about the interview segment of ep 14 the more i think they are a red herring FRAMED to make us worry #that we can look back on later and go aaahhhhh look how hard they had to fight to not say these things to each other or something lmao #i don't think 2521 is meant to be a story about how nothing lasts forever #it's been far more hopeful and inspiring than that #there's so much about how courage and determination will get you through what you need to get through #it's not about accepting that there are things out of your hands because no one in this drama has just accepted anything #seungwan never accepted that this is how things are heedo never accepted it yijin learned to fight for himself #if anything 2521 tells us that we are more than capable more than we think we are #that no matter how difficult anything is we'll get through it #and that love is so important

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imaeraser · 3 years

Note

Hi, I loved your ex-Admiral Reader joining the straw hats and U was wondering if you could make a part 2 where the reader and the Straw hats (separately) falling for the new reader.

Please and Thank you

🥰🥰🥰

Sounds great!

Luffy

At first, he thought that he was being friendly

Spending time with you, trying to make the Sunny as welcoming as possible, but then he started to get these warm fuzzy feelings

So he decided that he liked it, and spent even more time with you, but it only made it worse

It got so bad, that at one point he had to leave the room when you entered

When he talked about it to Nami and Robin, they just laughed

Then he got pouty and then demanded they tell him what they were laughing about

“You like them Luffy”

Of course, he likes you, he likes everyone on the crew. Then they had to explain to him that he was feeling romantic feelings

It all made sense, but he also got scared

He saw how love affects people and their careers. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to sacrifice that much for another person

But then Nami and Robin told him he already sacrificed so much for his crew

That’s when he decided he was gonna confess

Zoro

He was against you in the beginning

That’s why it didn't bother him when he wanted to spend more and more time with you. But it started to confuse him when he realized it wasn't to keep an eye on you

So he started to train more, but each time his mind drifted of it drifted off to you

Then he decided to (finally) take more showers, but while washing his hair, he found himself imagining your fingers rubbing his scalp

So he stopped taking showers (again)

Whatever he did, his mind drifted to you. How you would like something, what you would do if you were with him

So he opted to spend more time with you

This confused you, so when you asked he kinda blew up and talked about your allegiance. Of course, this made you sad, and seeing you sad made him realize that he screwed up. Later he talked to you in a hushed voice and apologized

I don’t think he’s the type to ask other people, but after yelling at you and apologizing (which he never does) he thinks it’s time to put down his pride

So when he talked to the boiz (I’m not sorry) they also laughed at him. Except for Luffy, Sanji, and Chopper. Luffy and Chopper were confused, and Sanji was making fun of him

This made him flushed, and as he was about to leave they pointed out the obvious, he liked you.

This made him even more flushed, and he slammed the door shut. But now that he knows what he is feeling, he can decide what to do

Nami

Was suspicious of you too

But as she spent more time with you, she realized that you were nice

So you guys started to stay up and talk about where you guys were from, dreams and aspirations, things you two wanted in the future. And of course about love, marriage, and kids. Just about everything

I think Nami would want to adopt two girls when she’s older. Just like Bellemare

She felt a fire bust in her chest when she saw your smile. She felt clouds split and the sunlight creep down her body when she saw you glance at her

And Nami is self-aware. You best believe that she knew what she was feeling

The knowledge made her shy away for a few days, but she realized that pushing you away wouldn’t make her happy

That means she put her flirtation on 10x

It did make you flustered— I mean a pretty lady hitting on you? Of course, you’re gonna be blushing

It’s mostly a series of compliments and dirty jokes added to the mix. But she didn’t confess for awhile

She didn’t want to disrupt the balance of the crew and was too scared to take the risk

But each time you talk to her, it makes her start to not care

Usopp

High-key scared of you

Was hiding behind Zoro as he interrogated you

But as he interrogated you, he realized that you were pretty nice

So he stopped hiding behind the human meat shield and decided to initiate contact himself

He was doing it to protect his crew… right?

Maybe at first, but he started to become interested in the person you are. Where you grew up, if you had any siblings, parents, dreams, and so on

Then he got addicted. He was a moth drawn to a flame, and he started to feel himself burn up— with love (It’s so cheesy, this is something I am sorry for)

He wanted to impress you. He would start to come up with all of these crazy gadgets

Sometimes he pranks you. He thinks you look cute when you’re mad

When he realized that he was feeling something romantic and not platonic— he went back to scared mode. Think of the stereotypical shy, cute, twiddling thumbs girl— yeah that's him

He keeps trying to confess, but then ends up chickening out

But after asking Franky for advice, he finally steeled his nerves

Sanji

Let’s just say that Sanji was a simp from the start

He may have been suspicious, but when he saw you his heartbeat unlike it had ever done before

It wasn't the usual feeling he got when he just saw a girl, it was something warmer

Of course, that made him want to explore it. Cue the excessive flirting

It honestly got kinda annoying, but once you guys started to talk about things that mattered (not him talking about how lovely you look) was when he started falling

And he fell hard

Sanji had never actually fallen for someone, so he got scared. That meant no more flirting, and him hiding when you entered the room

After you leave he holds his hand to his heart and breathes like he ran a mile

Poor Sanji, you give him butterflies. Too many butterflies

He wants to confess and get over it, but he finds himself getting lightheaded at the thought

Oh, there goes the blood

It gets so bad, that the crew has to take matters into their own hands

Chopper

He fell for you

Because you accidentally tripped him

(I’m not gonna make this romantic)

Robin

She was one of the only people who weren’t super suspicious

Instead, she took the time to get to know you better

When she got to see who you were, she couldn't help but start to fall for you

Make no mistake, Robin is very self-aware. When she started to get an inkling of feelings— she knew

But she likes to play oblivious. She’s good at masking her emotions. Plus, she doesn't want anything to change between you (except for the fact you don't kiss her yet)

She spends even more time with you now. She likes to read and do domestic things with you. She likes to imagine that you two live in a remote cottage

She likes to bring you tea when you read together

She wants to make a move, but she also doesn’t want to ruin what you guys already have

She likes to talk about her feelings with Nami

So every time you walk into the room, you catch Nami doing the wiggling eyebrows and Robin lightly slapping her arm

She just loves the way your brain works (as well as the way your lips look when they pull into a smile)

After enough pestering from Nami, she grabbed some flowers from her garden and decided to finally act on her feelings

Franky

You just started hanging out with him

Probably because he didn't care that you used to be in the navy

You would just watch him make things. And to be polite, he would let you try them out

Of course, this lead to you calling it amazing and boosting his ego

So he started to like when you were around

Then as a pastime, you two would get to know each other

That’s when he started to fall for you. He would start to notice the way your hair fell, and the way it caught the light

You became his muse. And all of a sudden, he's coming up with all of these crazy and brilliant inventions

No one noticed his growing crush on you, since you guys spent most of your time in his workspace, but one dinner the crew found him staring at you during dinner and tripping over himself

Cue the unnecessary teasing. He tries to cover it up as him being a pervert, but everyone knows that he is lying

Since he can’t convince anyone, he tries to convince himself. That means he starts to push you away

But when he starts to feel more empty, he owns up to his feelings and decides to change that

Brook

You would listen to his music

Listen, not just let it play the background

You always had this look of wonder in your eyes as you watched him

After getting to know him (which started by asking him how he learned so many instruments)

He likes the way you laughed and smiled, and… just do anything

He would start blushing when you would come up to him and talk. When he would see you across the room. When he would think about you… all the time

The crew started to notice but brushed it off as him being flattered by you being interested in his music

But when you guys weren’t doing something music-related, the two of you can be seen drinking tea or watching the ocean

He’s pretty self-aware, but he wants to deny it for a little while

But once the crew notices (due to his non-existent eyes following you) they push him to go after it. He’s been lonely for so long, it seems kinda weird for him

He also feels bad for liking you, since he’s dead and old

But he decided that you only live once, but in his instance twice

Jinbei

He was very suspicious of you

He didn't even want you to join. So he decided to keep an eye on you

That backfired

Because he started to notice how good you looked… doing everything. When he started asking you about yourself— boy he started sweating

He can’t get over how cute he thinks you are. Everything from how you look to how you act. The thumping of his heart can be heard by the fishes below

Cue the shifty eyes, twiddling thumbs, and flushed cheeks

He is honestly so cute. But of course, if anyone asks him what’s wrong, he’ll say he’s fine… sure

He tries to woo you by showing you his helmsman skills. If that doesn’t work he’ll tell you stories about Fishman island. If that doesn’t work… he’ll just listen to you and give his sage advice

The crew catches on quickly. He is just too obvious. That means incessant teasing from all of the members (excluding you)

Most of them find it ironic how he was telling Luffy it was a bad idea to let you on board, to think what it would be like to grab your hand with his webbed fingers

He’s self-aware, but he is also scared since he has never felt this way before

But after getting tired of the teasing, he decided he was gonna take you out for a swim… and whatever happens, happens (aka he’s preparing for a stuttering love confession)

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

fiend | one shot

f i e n d ;

a person who wants something really bad, and keeps coming back for more.

because that's exactly what you are with your boss who dicks you down properly, time and time again.

pairing: assistant!reader x ceo!yg

genre: ceo au | smut

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, bondage, unprotected rough sex that makes you cry, multiple orgasms, breast play, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), pussy smacking, ass smacking, dirty talking, doggy style, choking, i think that’s it?

note: uh, definitely filthiest smut i’ve ever written by far.. i’m sorry lmao i’m trying to experiment with smut and yoongi is the one i’ve decided to experiment with. again, pls excuse any errors. enjoy!

Your eyes drifted down the hallway, quickly making eye contact with your boss before you turned the corner. Soon after, you heard his foot steps following behind you, his fingers grazing the buttons of his blazer as he unbuttoned them and quickly loosened the tie around his neck as he continued to follow your path.

You bit your lip as you took one last look behind you, seeing him coming for you, the lust seeping through his skin. Apparent in his eyes. In his walk. The way he licked his bottom lip.

You turned the knob to a room, not knowing who's it was but you didn't give a single fuck. All these rich folk and their big ass homes, there was no way any of them truly and actually cared about each and every single room in the house. Before you could fully shut the door, your boss slips himself in, silently shutting it close for you and locking it.

"Running away from me?" Yoongi asks in your ear, his breath grazing your neck.

"There's no fun if I don't, right?" You slightly cock your head to the side, a smirk slowly growing at the corner of your lips. Suddenly, you feel the cold material from his tie wrap around your wrists.

"Hmm." He hums. "Now that I've got you though, you're not going anywhere." He says lowly, holding the tie tightly as he bends you forward onto the side of the drawer against the wall. He finishes tying his tie around your wrist, your breathing slightly hitching when he tightens it. You feel him lift the back of your dress up, your thong exposing your ass cheeks and your folds almost swallowing the material with how bent you are at the moment.

How you got here? You didn't know, but you also didn't care. Min Yoongi was one of the youngest thriving CEOs to exist and out of all applicants, he had chosen your innocent ass as his assistant. You literally had just graduated not too long ago, finding an ad for the position online as you nonchalantly surfed the web and did your rounds of poking for entry-level positions. It didn't contain many requirements, which sparked your interest. But you figured you'd never land the job having interviewed amongst other women and men who had been executive assistants previously for months, even years.

Little did you know that you'd star in your own Fifty Shades of Grey movie, and honestly, all this shit was worth it to you. You didn't care about the dirty ass looks the rest of the staff would give you. You didn't care about the shit talking they'd do. You were never one to worry about little things like that; You did you and you carried your own shit. You knew the women were jealous, and you knew they wanted to be you.

Why would you be mad about that?

It ultimately became Yoongi's weakness. You just had it like that.

You'd watch as they'd take your job and prepare Yoongi's coffee in the morning, hoping to bat an eyelash and shower him in compliments. You sat at your desk smirking to yourself at how hard they tried. Sometimes Yoongi would acknowledge it, most of the time - he didn't. Because he was fixated on you and you had yet to learn that.

He wasn't one to build relationships with his staff, he made sure to keep his personal life separate from his career. He didn't talk much in the beginning, having random people train you before he began to step in and show you the ropes himself. He'd come off cold at first, barely showing any expressions. Barely acknowledging you by name, even. But as time went on, you were able to exceed his expectations, doing things before he'd even ask and you found him slowly unraveling around you. He'd tell you goodmorning as soon as he'd catch sight of you at your desk. He'd ask how your day was. He'd ask for your opinion on certain things. He'd ask for you to fully handle his schedule because he loved the way you treated him so delicately, moving appointments around just so he'd have time to breathe and eat. Then, you'd catch his smile. His laugh. How he'd shower you in compliments, talking about how nice you looked that day. He'd leave you notes on your desk, thanking you for your hard work.

If you weren't mistaken, you had felt a small crush developing for your boss. But, you knew you had to keep it professional. That is - until Min Yoongi had caught on and acted on it. He stood behind you as he looked over your shoulder at the computer screen. He had one hand planted on your desk, while the other rested on the top of your chair. You looked up at him from your seat, his eyes locked onto yours. He edged his face closer to yours, locking your lips with his. You couldn't help but gasp as you quickly pulled away, pushing yourself off after reality had settled in. But he had grabbed your wrist ever so gently, shaking his head as he told you to stop holding back. Something so innocent had turned lustful, full of desire and passion. You gave in and allowed him to get a taste of all of you. Once you were in, there was no going back. He fucked you so good that you could barely walk, fucking you in all places you could imagine - his office, his car, his home, his kitchen, balcony, now this party that was flooded with such highly important people. All you wanted was him, all you craved for was him; Just as he had craved for you every second of his day.

That's why your ass was bent over on someone's expensive ass black dresser, Yoongi's tie tied tightly around your wrists as he swipes his fingers down his tongue before giving your pussy a good smack. You let out a small whimper as he pulls your panties down and throws them aside, his tongue licking a stripe in between your folds.

"You gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Yes." You whimper once again when you feel him spread your cheeks to take full advantage of the position you were in. You feel his tongue gently probe your entrance before you hear him suck you dry, a slight chuckle releasing from his lips as he pulls away and starts to insert two fingers to stretch you out. His long fingers start slowly, Yoongi full out enjoying the sound of your wetness every time he pulls in and out. He curves his digits upwards, causing you to twitch on the drawer from how deep he's tickling your core.

"Ohhhhh, Yoongi, please." You mewl. Your hands are slightly getting tired from being held behind you, but at the same time, you're so fucking turned on at how rough he's handling you - like he had been wanting you all night. Which, he has. He couldn't believe the audacity you had to show up to this party in that tightly fitted dress, hugging you in all the right places. You caught on quick, teasing him throughout the night by grazing your hand against his, brushing your fingers across his manhood area ever so gently in passing, whispering how good he looked in his suit.

"Stay still. You said you'd be good." He says, quickening his pace while he held the tie down to keep your hands in place. The faster he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the quicker you feel yourself coming undone.

"Hohhhh, fuck." You moan. "I'm close."

"Gonna cum around these fingers, baby?" You want to hold on so badly, but you can't. And you don't. You find yourself trembling on top of the dresser, Yoongi licking up your mess and completely disregarding how overly sensitive you are right now. The pain turns into more pleasure for you, and you want nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

But he has other plans first. He wastes no time bringing you back up to standing position by holding his tie, aggressively getting you on your knees in the middle of the room.

"You better make good use of those hands when I let them go." He says, undoing his tie. You slightly wince at how sore you are from keeping your hands in one position for some time, but you brush it off as Yoongi stands in front of you, ready for you to unzip his pants and let his aching dick free. He loves watching you suck him on your knees, the sight of your pretty face and his dick going in and out of your mouth being something out of this world for him. He ain't ever gotten head so good until he's gotten it from you.

And so you're craving to make him feel just as good as he made you feel, gripping his hardened member when it springs free from his boxers, your tongue following its length like a guide. His dick wasn't the thickest, but it was long and that shit never failed to make you cum time and time again. That shit never failed to tear you up. You suck his tip, your tongue swirling around the pooling pre-cum before you pull back with a pop. You watch from below as he tilts his head back in pleasure, small moans leaving his mouth as his hands are tangled in your hair. He begins to lower you onto his dick, steadying the pace before he wants you to start taking him all the way. His tip tickles the back of your throat while he keeps you there for a good minute, tears streaming from your eyes as you choke on him, saliva trailing from your mouth and his tip once he tugs your head back.

"So fucking pretty when you take my shit like that." He smirks before biting his bottom lip, his grey hair lightly brushing past his eyes. You swallow him whole a couple of times more, more saliva trailing down his dick and between your mouth and his tip before he's satisfied with how fucked out you look simply from taking his dick down your throat. "What do you want me to do to you, pretty girl?"

"Fuck me, please." You whine. He grips your chin and stands you up to eye level.

"You want me?" You nod. "Tell me how much you want me, babygirl."

"I want you so bad, Yoongi. Please. Wanna feel you."

He smirks. "Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Don't worry about that." He doesn't hesitate to carry you, albeit he struggles a bit with his pants below his ankles, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso before dropping you onto the bed. You wiggle yourself up a little higher before he crawls on top, his lips pressing against yours. The kiss quickly becomes messy, your hands getting tangled in his hair as his tongue sensually caressed your mouth. You moan into it while his hands work to bring the bottom portion of your dress above your waist. He pulls down your top portion just enough to expose your bare breasts, his hands giving them a good squeeze before taking your nipples in between his fingers and giving them a good pinch. You let out a small cry as he pulls away from the kiss, your nipples feeling incredibly hard and sensitive from his touch. He brings his mouth down to one nipple at a time, toying with it for a second by using his tongue to flick the bud around before sucking.

"That feels so good." You let out breathily. He lets out a small moan as he sucks on the other before bringing his mouth back up to yours. You wiggle yourself onto him, feeling his tip graze your folds, driving you insane. The heat is pooling in your core, almost unbearable at the fact.

"You want this dick in you now?" He whispers in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe right after. You let out a hiss as you nod, letting out a small whimper as you watch him pump his dick a few times below you. He inserts the tip, your mouth slightly open at how fucking good he feels slowly filling you up. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip onto his shirt while he bottoms out, the sound of your wetness bouncing off of the walls while he rolls his hips into you, working inwards and outwards. He keeps your legs open with his hands, making sure your wide enough to feel every inch of him inside of you.

"Fuuuuck, Yoongi." You moan. "Give it to me." He picks up his pace. "Just like that, just like that." You repeatedly whine until you can't cry it out any longer. The pleasure completely takes over your body as you bounce up and down in his grip, his eyes marveling at your titties bouncing around while he fucks you senselessly.

"Always so good to me." He groans. "Taking me in so perfectly. I wish you could see how fucking good you look crying out for me." You were absolutely perfect to him, in every way possible. The music outside is so loud at this point that you're sure no one can hear you yelling his name in this room. Your nails are digging into his clothed arms, his hands now making his way up to your neck to slightly grip onto it while he aggressively hammers into you.

"I'm gonna cum again." You manage to spit out as his hands are barely giving you room to speak. Sooner or later, one to two more powerful thrusts in, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, groaning as you tremble underneath him. He bites onto his bottom lip as he slows his pace to help you ride out your high and places a sloppy kiss onto your lips.

"Turn around for me." He says, you quickly obeying silently. He has you on your fours towards the edge of the bed, his tie now wrapped around your mouth and in between your teeth. He tugs on it ever so slightly to the side, getting a good look at your face before planting a kiss on on your neck. He quickly swipes his hand down your pussy, knowing full well how sensitive you still are. You twitch at the sensation, Yoongi letting out a small chuckle at how sexy and vulnerable you are right now. He slips himself in, letting out a moan at how wet you are around him. He holds onto his tie as he fucks into you quick, tears streaming down your cheeks. You let out a loud moan, but it's muffled through the material of his tie, enjoying every bit of the pain and pleasure your boss is bringing you at this moment. He grips your ass with his free hand before giving it a good smack, groans leaving his mouth as he pumps in and out.

"Who's pussy is this?" He leans forward and asks in your ear.

"Yours." You mumble.

"Who's?"

"Youuuuurs." You cry.

"Shit, babygirl. I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good." He leans back, his high coming to a close. Your eyes shut close as you feel your walls constrict around him at the same time he lets himself go, his cum coating your walls while you coat his dick. He lets the tie go gently, allowing you to breathe through your high, huffing and puffing to regulate yourself. You let out a small gasp feeling him remove himself from inside of you, cum leaking out of your throbbing pussy. You can barely fix your position, your legs trembling and weak from how fucked out you are. Yoongi takes a napkin from the nearby dresser, wiping you clean before getting himself together and helping you up.

"So much for enjoying the party like you wanted." You tease as you fix yourself in the full length mirror near the bed. Yoongi stands behind you, adjusting his blazer and shirt and tossing his tie aside since it had been drenched from your saliva.

"Didn't have to be such a tease."

"I thought that's what you wanted." He comes from behind you, lowering himself to your ear.

"You know I always want you though, so there's no need to be one. You ever think about that?" He says lowly near your ear as he lifts up your long lost panties with his finger.

#bts #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi one shot #min yoongi one shot #suga one shot #bts suga one shot #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongs #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts suga #writing #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #bts suga smut #bts smut

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kass-storycorner · 3 years

Note

*cough* so i really love your work!! i love everything your put out so far however i’m now going to request for angst mwehehrh. Feel free to reject this if you aren’t comfortable!!

archon x albedo but they break up with him because they still haven’t moved on from their past lover that was slaughtered and felt it would be unfair if they stayed with albedo if they still loved someone else? Thankyou!!!

don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

I'm so sorry that it took this long, I have been working a lot the past month and I've not been well mentally soooo yeah, but I'm glad I finally finished it! I was suprised myself at what I wrote, I only had to write an ending for this so ouch haha

thank you so much for your kind words I’m- ahhh I’m so happy that you love what I shared ( ˙꒳˙ )

I’m so insecure with my writing so it’s reassuring to hear such kind words!

about the request: ooooOOOH I love this!!! And honestly my mind went directly into thousand different directions to make it even MORE angsty ahaha poor Albedo ( ╥ω╥ )

Genre: Angst, Hurt, no comfort, a bit fluff in between but it's more bittersweet

Rating: SFW

Content Warnings: mention of Khaenri`ah, mention of blood

Word count: 1,811 words

Characters: Albedo, gn!dendro Archon reader

Format: Text

Fic is under the cut!

“-and I think it is best to go separate ways from now on.” Ah, how peculiar. What is this strange feeling in Albedo’s chest? It feels like there is no air in his lungs anymore, an unsettling feeling spreading from his stomach through his whole body. Feverously he searched his mind for a reason for your words. Go separate ways? He heard what you said, but at the same time he did not understand the meaning of your words. Albedo stood there in your shared bedroom, stiff as a board his eyes pierced through you, no longer looking at you. It was as if you weren’t there.

“Albedo?”, your head peaked through the door of his office, sending him a smile. He peaked up from the work on his desk, strands of blond hair falling in front of his eyes. “Ah, (Y/N), hello,” curling his lips into a small smile at your sight. You stepped into the office, walking around the table, and leaning on it right beside him. His eyes were fixed on you. “Busy?” you asked as you brushed the strands of hair back behind his ear. A faint blush crept unto his face; you wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for how close you were to him. Clearing his throat he looked back down on the papers in front of him, answering your question. “Umm, well yes. The next expedition to the Dragonspine and my experiments need to be organised, though the formalities of filling out the forms for Jean is nothing that I am interested in.” He heard you chuckle at his words, wondering what was so funny about them. “I wonder”, you began, leaning down to him, so close the tips of your noses nearly were touching, “if is there something here that might interest you more.” “I supposed, there is,” he said and closed the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

“Albedo?”, your concerned voice pulled him out the pleasant memory that crossed his mind. He had been quite for a while now, it worried you. You weren’t sure how he’d take it, you asking to break off your relationship. It had been quite pleasant so far, the last few months with him. There weren’t any quarrels between the two of you nor reasons for the heartbreak Albedo felt right in this moment. You both were always honest to each other, about who and what each of you were. And because of this honesty each of you valued you had to break his heart. “I-“, his voice was hoarse, it had more emotions in it than he liked it to. “I need to ask you this… why?”. He finally looked at you, his cerulean eyes filled with pain. Ah, the dreadful question you knew he would ask, but you hoped he wouldn’t. There was no use in lying to him now, to not share the true reason for why you’re breaking up with him. Though you secretly wished that you could spare him the truth.

You sat under the shadows of a tree, eyes closed and feeling the warm summer breeze on your skin. “Please, don’t move.” At that you opened your eyes, looking at Albedo sitting across of you with his sketchbook and a pencil in his hands, sketching a portrait of you. “You quick with your hands, I doubt my small movements would change anything that you draw,” you said in a teasing tone, earning a raised brow from him, but no comment. There you were, the two of you. Sitting in the shadow, a comfortable silence surrounding the both of you. You watched the way Albedo furrowed his brows, looking up to you and then down to the paper, for him to sigh in frustration and starting a new sketch. “Somethings wrong?”, it has been the fourth piece of paper he rips out of the book and tosses aside. “I seem not to be able to capture your features correctly, something always is a bit off.” “Let me see,” you lean forward trying to grab one of the sketches he tossed away, but Albedo was quicker to snatch them away. “Don’t,” he says, hiding the pieces of paper behind his back. “Oh, come on, Bedo. I wanna see, I can’t look that bad” you joke, moving closer to him hoping to get a peak at his fifth sketch. Before you could even come close to taking a look he closed the sketchbook, denying you access to it. “No matter how often I try to draw you, it never does you justice”, he sighs, pinching the bride of his nose. You were close enough to him now to lean your head on his shoulder. “You know, it is quite the challenge to get the godly features of me right,” taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “But I’m sure in all of the centuries I’ve lived through you might be the first one to succeed at it.”

You took a deep breath, dreading the answer you were going to give him. There was no way to sugar coat it and you were sure Albedo wouldn’t want to hear a long winded explanation if it wasn’t needed. Like a bandaid that needs to get ripped off you decided to do it as quickly as possible. “I don’t love you. I’m sorry, Albedo.” At your words Albedos heart was shattering into thousand small pieces. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that were trying to fall from his eyes… still, he had so many questions for you. His mind was racing, but all he could bring out was again the same question as before. “Why?”

“Albedo, please believe me when I say I wish I could. I wish I would love you, the way you deserve it. The way I want to, the way I still love them. You mean a great deal to me, please believe this. The time we spend together was time I enjoyed and that’s why I feel the need to be honest with you now. I hadn’t said anything before because I believed I could open my heart again, open it up for you. However it seems it’s impossible for me and I am so sorry for it. I shouldn’t have led you on like this…”

Blood curling screams were filling the streets of a small city that did not exist anymore. War was always present in Teyvat, there have been the past thousand years without it, but before that? The land was filled with the blood of mortals and god alike, the first ones killing each other in the names of the second ones. The reasons for most of the wars were laughable. One started them out of hurt pride, the other to broaden their territory and a third just out of sheer boredom. Not caring a bit about the humans that were caught in the crossfire of the gods. So when the Archon War began, similar to the ones before but just the scales were so different. There you were, a small deity. The god of the woods as they called you. You never liked the blood shed, it poisoned the earth so that no plant was able to grow. Before you were able to just avoid the wars, this time around you had no choice. And in the middle of this war you met someone astonishing. Until this day you couldn’t say if it was a curse or a blessing that they made their way into your life and your heart. All you know now is just the deep grief that is always there with you since they are gone. In the middle of bloodshed and darkness that the Archon War brought with it you found someone who made you forget the horrors of it, who made the burden of the crown easier when you rose to the position of the Dendro Archon after it - a position you didn't want at first, it falling into your hands by mere coincidence. After that you spend some marvelous years with that one person by your side, but even those who aren't entirely human are mortal, even gods can be killed. With another War that came, they left your side, wanting to protect you, to protect Sumeru. Brutally slaughtered by the hands of an enemy that envied your position, your power. Now all what remains of them is the dry earth. The massive woods of Sumeru turned into deserts, a consequence of your grief. And when the day came for another war, more blood and destruction at Khaenri`ah you decided to leave. To cut all ties with Celestia and give up the seat you never wanted in the first place.

Albedo knew most of this. He knew who you are, he knew of your nature before you made him fall in love with you. You never just told him about your past lover, too much did their loss still hurt and, what you were ashamed of admitting, too much did Albedo resemble them. In the silence of the shared room you finally told him what orginally drew you to him - how much you really wished you were able to love him for himself and while yes, you liked him very much, it was someone else you saw in him when you kissed. Someone else you wished he was. At first you didn't knew it yourself, in the beginning you really believed it was possible for you to find new love... but you still wished most days they were with you. It was time to be honest with him, to speak the truth, no matter how much you hurt him. "Albedo...", you began slowley, your voice drifting to him, but what sounded like a sweet melody just hours before now makes him feel sick. "Don't." he interrupted you. "I thank you for your honesty and for telling me the truth, but I don't need to hear more." With that he left the room, making his way towards his lab on Dragonspine. Not one person in Mondstadt would think of Albedo as a dumb person, everyone says how they are impressed with how smart he his... so why does he feel so stupid right now? He was a fool to believe that he was loveable, that someone saw him for who and what he was, not what they wanted him to be. For now he just wants to be alone again, surround himself with his work and ignore these feelings in his chest. The heartbreak, the betrayel... but also the feeling of relief. Albedo did wonder how much it would've pained you if he ever loses control, but now this is not a concern anymore. And still, as he made his way up Dragonspine he couldn't help the frozen tears coming spilling from his eyes.

#genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #albedo kreideprinz #albedo genshin impact #genshin #fan fiction #angst #hurt #no comfort #genshin angst #i am not happy with the ending but i guess it's okay #my mind was going in a 'maybe albedo goes to the knights hq and meets kaeya there' and yeah I'm stuck in Kaebedo brain rot fight me

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host-club-hq · 3 years

Text

Call of the Scar pt. 1

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them this time?

➼ part 1 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

➼ talk to the characters!

Frank Bryce sets a kettle on the stove and- with a shaky hand- adjusts the flame. He leans forward, squinting to get the fire right, and the window beyond his is revealed. Something flickers. Softly. Then again. Frank turns.

Atop the hill, light dances in one of the windows of the manor.

CLANG!

Frank emerges from the cottage, walking stick in hand. He limps into the yard and approaches a door almost completely covered in ivy. He fits a rusty key into the lock

The knob squeals dryly. The walking stick pierces the shadows, then Frank himself enters. His nostrils flare against the sour air. He cocks an ear. Frank's shadow spreads darkly on the landing. Above a small table is an old calendar, freckled with Mildew. August 1943

Frank reaches the top and stops. His breath drifts like smoke.

At the end of the hallway, a door stands ajar, casting sliver of light across the dusty floor. Frank edges closer and sees a narrow slice of the room beyond. A feeble fire flickers in the grate. From within: voice.

"But where here, my Lord? It seems so... inhospitable.

"How fastidious you've become, Wormtail. As I recall, only recently you called the nearest gutterpipe home. Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?"

"No, my Lord! I only meant-"

"I have my reasons for coming here. Thirteen years of reasons."

"Perhaps if we ere to do it without the boy..."

"No! The boy is everything!"

Just then, the tip of Frank's walking stick vibrates against the floorboard. He eyes it curiously, then- in mute horror- watches a giant snake emerge from the shadows behind him. As it skims past his shoes and into the room, an eerie hiss greets its arrival.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail. According to her, there is an old Muggle standing just outside this room."

The door flings wide, revealing a short balding man- Wormtail.

"Where are your manners, Wormtail? Step aside so I can give our guest a proper greeting..."

Slowly, Wormtail withdraws. Frank's eyes dilate. A flash of green light sears the walls. The walking stick clatters to the floor, handle charred black, weeping smoke. A brittle whistling rises from the shadows of the empty Gardener's Cottage, a tea kettle squealing madly, rising like a scream on the night sky.

Harry Potter sits bolt upright, a gasp in his throat. He winces and presses his palm to the scar on his forehead. Across the room, Ron lies sleeping.

"Having a bit of a lie-in, are we?" A smug voice comes.

Harry spins, seeing you, his closest girl friend, grinning from beside his bed.

"Y/N. When'd you get back?" Harry breathes heavily. You had gone for a morning walk- as you usually do when sleep eludes you.

"Just now. You?" you’re referring as to when he arrived at your family’s burrow.

"Last night." Harry begins to sit up.

"Must have missed you. Though, how could I? With your clumsy arse." you ruffle his hair and Harry groans.

"Says you." Harry bites back playfully. You grin.

Hermione comes stalking in loudly and Ron wakes. "Bloody hell!" Ron bolts up and tugs the blanket over his chest.

"Oh, honestly. Come on. Get yourself dressed or we'll miss the whole thing." Hermione claps at Ron.

You watch as she leaves, then look at Harry. The two of you stare at each other before you whack him upside the head.

"Blimey, Y/N! What was that for?"

"I dunno, maybe I just wanted to hit your dumb ass." you walk out.

Harry rubs the back of his scalp before turning to Ron, who was still on the verge of sleep.

"What are you looking at me for?" Ron grumbles.

"She's your sister. I wonder where she gets it from." Harry throws his feet over the bed.

"Not bloody likely... more like all that time she spends with Hermione. God awful, the pair of them."

"Don't be dramatic, Ron." Harry shoves him slightly as he gets dressed.

A string of sleepy silhouettes- Fred, George, Harry, Ron, you, and Hermione- trail a huffing Arthur Weasley. Fred has a battered pair of omnioculars slung over his neck.

"Where is it exactly, where we're going?" Harry turns to you.

"Dunno. Say, Dad. Where're we going?" you holler forward.

"Haven't the foggiest. Keep up!" Arthur replies. Harry looks at you expectantly.

"Why are you looking at me like I know where we're going?" you raise an eyebrow.

"Why don't you know where we're going?" Harry teases back.

"Because I've never been to the bloody thing. Merlin, Harry, sometimes you're so daft." you sigh, teasingly, again. Harry eyes her curiously. Daft? Yeah, right.

A ruddy faced wizard appears atop the crest ahead.

"Arthur! It's about time, son!" The man shouts in greeting.

"Sorry, Amos. 'Fraid we got a bit of a sleepy start. This is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me at the ministry. And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" Arthur guesses.

An extremely handsome 17-year old boy shakes hands with Mr. Weasley, whom he towers over.

"Sir." Cedric confirms.

"Bloody hell." you sigh. Harry looks to you.

"What? You think he's attractive?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

"How could I not? Look at him." you grin widely. Harry pouts.

"Don't be a baby, you're still adorable." you pinch his cheek and he yelps.

"Bugger off." He swats your hand away.

"Merlin's beard! You're Harry Potter, aren't you? Ced's talked about you, of course. About playing Quidditch against you last year. I told him- Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will: You beat Harry Potter!" Amos grins. Lorelei frowns and steps beside Harry.

"Harry fell of his broom, Dad. I told you, it was an accident-"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you? Best man won. I'm sure Harry'd say the same." Amos grins. Harry frowns and you take his hand in yours. As much as you tease each other, you both know how much you care for each other.

"We'll see about that this year, won't we?" you challenge with a subtle smirk. Amos's eyebrows furrow before Arthur interjects before his daughter escalates.

"Well, shall we? We don't want to be late." Arthur clears his throat, as he should.

"Hm? Oh, right. It's over there." Amos points.

Harry cranes his neck. Lying in the short grass is an old boot. Each person places a finger to the book, arms extended like spokes to a wheel. Harry leans to you and whispers.

"Can you tell me why we're all standing here pressing our fingers to this manky old boot?" Harry grimaces.

"It isn't just any manky old boot, mate." Fred interjects.

"It's a Portkey." you finish.

"A Portkey? What's a-"

SWOOSH! The hill lurches then tilts. The sky begins to spin. A howling wind rises and the sky spins faster and faster and faster still... and becoming a blur... until...

... Harry slams hard onto his feet and- like the others beside him- topples onto his back. Above him, the sky reels dizzily, like a carousel, spinning slowly to a halt as Arthur, Amos, and Cedric cycle into view, windswept but upright.

"That'll clear your sinuses, eh!" Arthur exclaims.

"And I thought I hated Floo Powder." Harry groans. A hand comes into his view and he trails his eyes up the arm that connects to you.

"Come on, then. Up you go." He takes your hand and helps himself to his feet.

"Floo Powder is still my least favorite. Getting covered in soot just to land in a ruddy fireplace." you grimace as you recall your first Floo Powder experience.

Harry looks past you to the field beyond. Thousands of tents stretch to the edge of a steep cliff, to the deep bowl of a stadium.

"This reminds me of just how many witches and wizards there are sometimes." you appear next to Harry, your knuckles tightening around the straps of your backpack as if you were anxious. Or, you could be excited- Harry can't tell.

"That's an interesting way to look at it." Harry acknowledges you with the tilt of his head, nudging you.

"Keep up, we don't want to be left behind." He starts off first, trusting you’ll follow. And you do.

Harry glances about in fascination as he and the others trudge through the sea of tents. Exotic accents dance upon the air, every nationality in evidence.

"Well, here we are!" Arthur pulls aside the flap of a small tent. A very small tent. Harry watches curiously as the others pass through.

"How in Merlin's name are we all meant to fit in that?" Harry gestures lazily to the tent in disappointment. You peer in from his point of view and shrug.

"Dad's got all sorts of tricks up his sleeve- just you watch." you inhale deeply and disappear inside the tent. Harry draws in the same sort of breath and ducks inside himself.

Harry looks around and smiles- he's standing in what's equivalent to a 3-bedroom flat. "I love magic." He grins as she sloppily drops his bag on the floor.

"I'll take that. You're welcome." you sling Harry's and your bag own over your shoulders. Harry rolls his eyes and follows you at your heal.

"I could've done that myself." Harry says matter-of-factly.

"You wouldn't owe me that way, would you?" you raise an eyebrow at Harry. You know Harry can't raise a single eyebrow and you take every chance that you can get to tease him with your ability.

"Ah, I knew there was a catch." Harry grins goofily as you place his rucksack on one of the beds on the boys' side of the tent. You turn on your heal to place your own where you and Hermione will be sleeping.

"We're separated?" Harry blurts unknowingly. The color red creeps onto the apples of his cheeks as you turn at his query.

"Yes... why do you ask?" you tilt your head as you turn your body to face him. Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

"Harry..." you gently takes his hand in yours, causing Harry to look down at you with sparkling eyes.

"I'm sure you'll be alright for a night or two. What do you do at home when I'm not there, hm?" your thumbs stroke the back of his hand as you look up to meet his eyes.

Harry learned that you were quite skilled at helping him through his nightmares and you were more than happy to lend your skill. Often when you were younger, you helped Ron through rough nights of nightmares after he'd eaten too much for dinner, or too much for dessert. You quickly learned that it was best to not wake him, for he could reel all too quickly back into reality and startle himself. You would bring the blankets back up over his chest to restrain the thrashing, stroke his cheek to maintain the mumbling, and whisper positive affirmations into his ear to send the nightmares into the abyss- replacing it with a nice, pleasant dream. As soon as you saw the smile on Ron's face, you’d known you’d done your job, and would quietly slip out of the room back to the welcoming warmth of your own bed. The nightmares often only came once a night. You wouldn't have to go back after that.

All of the same techniques seem to work in calming Harry from his own nightmares. Although, you find it best to embrace him in his sleep to restrain thrashing, as the blankets can do next to nothing to restrain him.

"Dunno." Harry bites the inside of his cheek and breaks eye contact. Your hand moves from his hand to his shoulder and you smile brightly.

"If you really do need me, come and get me, yeah?" you pat his shoulder thrice and turn on your heal to the girls' side of the tent. Harry's eyes follow you warily as you walk and he sighs shortly.

Ron claps Harry on his back, startling him as he spins around.

"Don't worry too much, mate. She's a light sleeper. If she hears you, she'll wake and be at your side before you know it." Ron starts to unpack his rucksack and Harry nods.

"Yeah... yeah, no, I'll be fine." Harry forces a smile, which Ron returns.

Harry and the others climb to their seats. Flags of all nations ring the stadium and vendors apparate here and there among the crowd, selling their wares.

"Get your Quidditch World Cup programs! Only five Sickles!"

Fancy gold handwriting races repeatedly across a giant blackboard: Gladrags Wizardwear- London, Paris, Hogsmead...

"There's the Peruvian Minister for Tourism. And that man there's the African Head of Magical Games and Sports. And- oh lord- there's Ali Bashir. He's been truing to import flying carpets for years. I keep telling him they'll never replace brooms, but he sees a niche market for a family vehicle..."

"Blimey, Dad. How far up are we?" Ron marvels, ignoring his father's rambling about their surroundings.

"Well, if it rains, you'll be the first to know."

The voice is Lucius Malfoy descending the stairs with Draco. Arthur, tight as a drum, only glares.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself." Draco boasts with a smug smirk.

"Oh, bugger off-" you begin.

"Don't boast, Draco." Lucius jabs his walking cane into Draco's chest. Draco grunts and places his hand over where he was jabbed, looking at his father incredulously.

You look to Harry with disbelief.

"Well, that's a first-"

"There's no need with these people." Lucius finishes.

"Ah." you cut yourself off with a disappointed sigh. Harry chuckles and nudges you. You smile.

Malfoy's eyes trail nastily over you and Hermione, landing on Harry.

"Mr. Potter."

As he passes, Harry eyes the walking stick in Lucius Malfoy's grip. A silver serpent encircles his ring finger, inlaid with emerald chips for eyes.

Harry and the others have settled into the upmost row, where the wind whips coldly. As a fleet of broomsticks jet into view, a roar rises in the crowd.

"It's the Irish! There's Troy!" Fred exclaims excitedly.

"And Mullet!"

"And here comes Moran!"

Before Fred can finish, a fleet of dark-clad riders soar over the opposite rim of the stadium. The crowd roars again.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Although your cheeks are smeared in green, (curtesy of your older brothers and Ron) your interest in professional Quidditch have never exceeded your brothers' of course. You do find a small interest in the magic of brooms, but the sport itself has never perked your interest.

"Here come the Bulgarians!" George points as he leans over the railing.

"Hm. Who's that?" you squint your eyes at one particularly young player.

"That, sis, is the best Seeker in the world." George smirks with a smug nudge to your side. You swat him.

"He flies rather well, doesn't he?" Hermione acknowledges. The boys exchange amused glances.

"You could say that." Fred stifles his laughter as George nudges him.

Fred lifts his Omnioculars to his eyes and spins a dial. He dials Krum in closer, then runs the image forwards and backwards.

"What's his name?" you ask as you place your hands on the railing.

On cue, thousands of fans on the opposite side of the stadium flip large cards bearing the face of the surly looking boy with thick eyebrows. Each one is emblazoned with his name: KRUM.

"Krum?" Hermione guesses.

"Krum." Harry, Ron, Fred, and George assure in unison.

As the boys look up in admiration, Krum gets past the vast mosaic of his likeness with a nary glance, flying with such breathtaking skill that Harry's jaw fairly falls open. You lean over and press your index finger to his chin, effectively shutting his mouth.

"You'll catch flies." you smirk as Harry swats your hand from his face.

"Lay off." he grumbles.

In the ministry box, Cornelius Fudge rises as Lucius Malfoy and Draco take their seats nearby.

"Good evening! As Minister for Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup! Let the match begin!"

A ball of light busts from Fudge's wand. Harry watches Viktor Krum rocket upward, the crowd roaring as he rises into the glittering night sky, the stadium growing smaller, a glimmering disc of light.

Harry and the others lie about, unable to sleep as they excitedly re-live the match.

"Such a big fuss over a sport. All he did was catch a ball." you grumble as you flip to another page of you book from where you lie on your bed, shoes tossed lazily about on the floor next to you as you rhythmically tap your sock-clad feet.

"An incredibly fast ball that's near impossible to spot!" Harry drapes an Irish flag over your lounging figure and you growl, tearing the flag off in the split second after it made contact with your body.

"You're infuriating." you wad up the flag best you can and chuck it towards Harry violently, who catches it with ease.

"Thank you." Harry smiles cheekily.

"Brilliant Krum, wasn't he? Did you see him put Lynch into the ground with the Wronski Feint? It was positively brutal." Ron rambles on.

"I think you're in love, Ron." you giggle from where you sits, eyes never leaving the spot on your page.

"Quiet, you." Ron bites back.

Just then, a chant of voices rise like a lion's roar beyond the tent. Fred grins.

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on." Fred ambles confidently towards the flap of the tent before Arthur bursts in urgently and looks around frantically.

"It's not the Irish."

The others turn to see Arthur standing by the flap peering out. Something in his voice causes their smiles to wither.

"Get yourselves dressed." Arthur orderes hurriedly. Once he notices the hesitation in everyone else, he barks another other. "Now!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and you scramble out of the tent and stare with disbelief at the hellish tableaux before you. All around you, people run in terror, trampling fires and kicking up sparks. Then you see why:

A teeming clot of black-robed wizards, faces concealed behind hideous masks, are marching across the campsite, laughing drunkenly. Some clutch torches while others point their wands skyward, where four people tumble eerily high above.

"Who are those people? In the air?" your hand shakes as you gesture to the bodies above.

"Muggles." Arthur answers solemnly. You gulps hard and divert your attention.

"And the ones on the ground?"

"Death Eaters." Hermione answers in the same fashion.

Harry looks puzzled by this, but as Arthur draws his wand, Harry does the same without question.

"No." you grab his wrist and push his arm back to his side.

"Get back to the Portkey, all of you. And stick together. Fred, George, you're responsible for Y/N. Y/N, you listen to your brothers." Arthur insists firmly as his eyes scan over the group. You shift uncomfortably and open your mouth to reply when a scream cuts you off from a passing civilian. The scream set everyone on edge and Arthur takes his tone up a notch.

"Y/N! Did you hear me?!" he scolds intensely. You blink, startled by your father's fierce expression, then nod slowly and surely. Arthur dashes off.

Fred and George glance at each other and nod. They gently shove you towards Harry and you grunt, spinning around to face them. "Dad said to-"

"We know what Dad said. You're better off looking after Harry and him after you." Fred smiles slightly.

"Yeah, and with your clumsy ass and your looking-for-trouble attitude, you balance each other out." George finishes curtly.

"Stay safe!" They disappear into the frantic crowd.

Harry is the first to move, reaching back and swiping your hand from your side and holds it close to him. "Come on." he beckons, pulling you along through the chaos.

They streak past blazing tents. You feel your hand become less and less tightly gripped in Harry's fingers before you find it slipping away. Lost in the mob, you falls back. Fred and George flash briefly in the crowd, then vanish. Hermione turns, frantic eyes finding Harry.

"Y-Y/N was with you- where is she?" Hermione's frantic eyes search the panicking crowd. She sees no glimpse of you.

"Where is my sister?" Ron steps towards Harry and gazes at him accusingly. Harry looks back and realizes that his hand is in fact empty. He takes immediate action.

Harry dashes on, buffeted back and forth by the raging crowd. He stumbles, falls, struggles to rise, and is trampled again. Bootheels punish the earth all around him. One strikes his temple hard and he collapses. He sees you, frantic, before his vision escapes him.

#Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter x reader #harry x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter series #harry potter movies #hogwarts #hermione #Ron Weasley #hermione granger #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley #harry potter smut #harry potter angst #Magic #wizard #witches

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karasuno-chaos · 3 years

Text

Window Shopping (Asahi x Reader)

When Asahi has trouble finding inspiration, you know just how to help him.

Word Count: 1,261

Masterlist

He’s smiling as you weave through the stream of shoppers, your fingers entwined so you don’t get separated. You never knew someone could get such pleasure from window shopping, but his eyes scan the storefronts and signs with eagerness and enthusiasm. It makes you smile as you follow him.

He needed this. You can always tell when Asahi needs a little extra inspiration. He loves his job, but it demands a lot of creativity, and that’s an impulse that is hard to wrangle. Every once in a while, you notice his enthusiasm dim and a worry settle behind his brow when new ideas are slow to come. You know the best way to help is to get him out of his head and onto the streets, so on your next mutual day off, you plan a trip to the shopping district.

Despite the small puddles left by the morning’s rain, the sidewalks bustle with people. You are thankful for your boyfriend’s warm hand tethering you to him as you weave slowly amongst strangers. You have no distinct destination and yield to those moving with a purpose. Sometimes on these outings you find a cafe and people watch for an hour. Inspiration blooms from the crowds as often as it does from the window displays, so you keep an eye out for potential spots to sit while Asahi studies the people and shops.

He drifts towards a window, and you follow. You stop in front of a mannequin in some ridiculous pose that is probably meant to make the outfit it wears look particularly cool, but you’ve never seen anyone stand like that unless they were trying to be funny.

Asahi studies whatever caught his attention, but you look at your reflection in the window, fractured slightly by raindrops lingering on the glass. You like how you look standing beside each other with your hands comfortably clasped between you. Fondness flutters in your chest. You’re both good at setting time aside for dates and quality time, but you don’t have many pictures together. There’s a certain comfort and affection you see when you stand together like this that encapsulates your love.

The lighting and angle is just right to snap a picture with your phone. Then you make a silly face and take another to send to Noya. Last you’d heard, your best friend is somewhere in Africa helping on a wildlife sanctuary and is in and out of cell service all day, but he likes getting mundane updates from you and your boyfriend. It helps you feel connected when he’s half the world away.

Asahi is still staring through the window when you tuck your phone away. You squeeze his hand to get his attention.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

“Mostly.” He squeezes your hand in reply. You see fondness in his eyes, but you can also read a familiar hesitation that makes you smile.

“We can go in if you want.”

“Are you sure? You’re not tired of walking around?”

“Not at all. I could keep going all day!”

Relief replaces the hesitation, and he squeezes your hand again as he leads the way into the shop. You love how considerate he is, even though you emphasized on the drive over that he is free to wander wherever his ideas take him.

He makes his way to the hangers of shirts to find the one featured on the mannequin. You release his hand to let him search unhindered, watching as he switches to designer mode. You don’t get to watch him work often. He’s still a little shy about designing, though the successful completion of several projects has boosted his confidence. You treasure the moments when you get to see him in his element, when his focus narrows to what he can make, translating his ideas to reality. You’re not sure how he does it, but it delights you every time.

You wander nearby to let him work through his thoughts undistracted. You’ve passed by this store before but never been inside. It doesn’t cater to your style or price range. There are a couple of pieces you might consider trying on if you were in the mood, but today you’re content to just look.

Cocking your head, you wonder what Asahi sees when he looks at clothes. If you were to deconstruct the shirt in front of you, where would you start? There are so many elements to it - material, colors, the cut and shaping of the pattern - that you wouldn’t know where to start. It’s amazing how your boyfriend can pull it apart in a glance and rebuild it with the slightest changes to create something brilliant.

“Y/N,” he calls softly, bringing you back to his side.

“Yes?”

“What do you think?”

You look at the shirt he’s been studying. Honestly, it looks like a dozen other shirts in the store save for the blocky pattern of the fabric. But you try to see what caught his attention from the window. The asymmetrical hemline adds some interest, but the cuffs on the sleeves seem wrong, though you’re not sure exactly how. Maybe they should be thinner? But then they won’t match the collar, which looks good as is.

“It’s nice,” you say. “The sleeves bug me a little, but I like the hem.”

“Yeah, I would change the sleeves,” he agrees. “Chop them off, make them short sleeves and do away with the cuffs. They don’t work with the fabric. And I’d adjust the cut a little so it drapes better. Probably change the fabric to something lighter, maybe a rayon blend? Or a nice knit cotton. And I’d shift the pattern so it follows the angle of the hemline.”

You smile as you listen to him redesign the garment, using his magical imagination to make it new, to make it his. The spark of inspiration dances in his eyes, and you see him: Asahi the designer, yet another side of the man you love so much.

You slide your arm around his waist and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Write it down before you forget,” you tell him. He chuckles as he pulls a small notebook from his inner jacket pocket. He’s usually good at remembering his ideas, but forgetfulness can be just as frustrating as a lack of inspiration, so you do what you can to help with that, too.

You check your phone while he jots down notes and a quick sketch. Noya must have service today because he’d sent a string of emojis and half-formed thoughts in reply to your photo. You craft an equally chaotic response that has you grinning.

“Is that Noya?” Asahi asks, returning the shirt to the rack and pocketing his notebook.

“Yeah.” You show your boyfriend the texts.

“That’s a good picture,” he says, squeezing your shoulder affectionately.

“It is. I’ve already set it as my new lockscreen.”

“You should send it to me later. Then we can match.”

“Aw, you’re cute. Finished with your notes?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else you want to look at here?”

Asahi scans the store, but nothing else catches his eye.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to take a break?”

“Not particularly.” You grab his hand again as you step back onto the sidewalk. “I’m fine wandering a little longer if you are.”

“Okay. Let me know if you want to stop anytime.”

“I will.”

You share a smile before his eyes return to the crowd and storefronts. Gripping his hand, you head off toward the next moment of inspiration.

#azumane asahi #azumane asahi x reader #asahi x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #hq scenarios #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #hq fanfiction #hq fanfic #asahi #karasuno-chaos #fluff #mentions of best boy noya because I couldn't resist

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spaceskam · 3 years

Text

only then i am human

Summary: Rosa and Alex have a talk.

Tags: friendship, asexual rosa

ao3

It was cold in Colorado.

Rosa felt a chill go down her spine, but it felt nice and sobering and she didn’t want to go inside to get a jacket. Instead, she swung her feet off the edge of the balcony, beneath the bars, and stared out to the nothingness around the hotel that Michael had picked.

She had listened to Alex and Michael old-married-couple argue the entire way up to the suite. Alex thought going somewhere expensive with a more obvious paper trail was stupid, but Michael had never been to a nice hotel and this was his only shot to do it with money he didn’t care about‒Jesse Manes’ life insurance. Alex stopped complaining whenever they got up to the suite and there was a separated bedroom and a pullout couch and the two of them would get to be alone for the first time since they left Roswell to go investigate.

Rosa had practically begged them to let her tag along, needing new scenery and to get away from everything that came with Isobel Evans. She was, again, too close for comfort and Rosa was starting to get anxiety whenever she came around, progress be damned. When she found out Michael and Alex were going to investigate Weird Alien Shit™, she jumped at the chance to put space between them.

But her mind was still hazy, still not liking the way she felt uncomfortable when Isobel texted to check-in. It was fine at first. She even liked talking to her for a while. And then it wasn’t fine.

Rosa flinched out of her daze as a blanket touched her shoulders and she looked to see Alex easing himself to sit beside her, placing his crutches on the ground beside him. He was in his nightclothes, his hair was wet, and he looked more relaxed than he had in a few days.

“Finally got laid?” Rosa asked. Alex snorted and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it. Rosa let her eyes drift back out to the nothingness.

“You okay? It’s getting late,” he said instead. Rosa shrugged, resting her head against the bars. “Michael’s out cold, so you can talk without thinking he’s gonna overhear.”

Rosa huffed a laugh and looked back out. She didn’t actually care what Guerin heard. He was probably the only alien that didn’t make her skin crawl. She wasn’t sure if it was because Alex trusted him or if it was because he was brutally honest with her about everything, but she preferred him to even most people. Besides, he made Alex soft and fed him hot fudge sundaes and Alex deserved that.

“Isobel keeps texting me,” Rosa said.

“I thought you two were friends,” Alex said carefully. Rosa bit the inside of her cheek and swung her legs a bit harder.

“We‒are, but,” Rosa said, pausing as she tried to find the words, “I don’t know. Something is making it weird. Like, I’m not scared of her. But it’s close to fear. Or something. I don’t know, Alex, I don’t do feelings well.”

“Uncomfortable?” Alex guessed, slowly like he didn’t want to assume anything. Rosa shrugged but then nodded, though she wasn’t sure if that was the right word either. “How’s she acting?”

“I… I don’t know. She’s just too close sometimes. Leans too close and talks too close, like we’re a part of some inside joke together but I missed the memo. Kinda like it was before, Rosa tried, though it wasn’t quite right, “But not really. Like I don’t think she’s trying to make it weird. Does that make sense?”

“You think it might be PTSD?” Alex asked. Rosa instantly shook her head.

“No, it’s not just her.”

“Yeah, but you literally got murdered. Like… that can fuck someone up for more than just one person,” Alex said. Rosa’s lips twitched into a small smile and she shook her head.

“No, it’s not like that. It… It kinda happened before then. Drugs helped, honestly,” Rosa admitted, “Anyone who gets too comfortable with me in that way makes me feel weird and like I need to get away. And I usually can and do, but with her it’s a little different because we’re actually friends. And before everything, I either got high to deal with it or I pushed them away. But I’m friends with her, so I should be fine. I don’t know why I’m not fine. I don’t know, it’s weird, I don’t know how to explain it.”

Rosa groaned, letting her head hit the bars with a bit of force. She hated trying to put her feelings into words.

“I mean, we’re close. I act close. You and Michael have been weirdly buddy-buddy. And Maria. Do you feel that with us?” Alex asked, though it sounded like he already knew the answer. Rosa eyed him until he quirked a small smile, a silent confirmation that he basically had her pegged.

“No. You two are gross, but I feel fine. Mostly.”

“So, do you think it might be, like, flirting? Is that what sets off the sirens in your head?” Alex asked. Rosa scrunched up her nose.

“Are they flirting?”

“I mean, I don’t know, I’m asking you,” Alex said, shrugging. Rosa looked more directly at him and wished he could just give her the answers. He was older than her now, so, really, he should be able to do that. “If they’re being close and stuff, it might be because she likes you. Just tell her you’re not interested.”

The idea of doing that made Rosa feel like locking herself in a small room and never coming out.

“Unless… You are interested.”

“No,” Rosa said instantly, shaking her head, “I’m not.”

“It’s okay if you are.”

“I’m not though,” Rosa said firmly, “But if I say something, she’s probably not going to be my friend anymore, right? Like she’ll get mad. And then I won’t have friends.”

“She won’t. And if she does then she’s the problem and fuck her,” Alex said simply. Rosa sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the moon. “Is this really like… a recurring problem? Where you get uncomfortable whenever you think someone might be flirting with you?”

“I mean, I’m just not interested in a relationship and I don’t want to lead anyone on and I don’t want to make anyone angry,” Rosa said, “It was much easier when I could just take something and not feel it.”

“Okay, but we’re not doing that. We’re working through it. Is it a rejection thing? A sexuality thing? Whenever I was in high school, I’d get that way when girls flirted with me, didn’t know what to do without giving them the wrong idea,” Alex offered, scooting closer as he tried to help. She appreciated it, but she also wished he’d leave her alone and go away. “You say you’re not interested. Are you, like, not interested at all… ever?”

“No offense, Alex, but I don’t want to have this conversation with you,” Rosa said. Alex huffed a small laugh.

“Who else is there to have it with?” Alex wondered. Rosa made a face and looked at him. He seemed open and earnest. He seemed grown up.

With a sigh, Rosa asked, “What does it feel like? When you like someone like that?”

“Like the scariest thing in the world and also the best. Like all the movie cliches make sense and half the time they’re all you can think about. You just want to be with them and have them pay attention to you. You just want them in anyway you can have them, like a craving you can’t satisfy. Like, with Michael, when we were younger, I was so scared of how much I wanted him, but he’d look at me and it felt like he trusted me and it made me feel brave. And, I don’t know, I guess I made him feel brave too. You just want to be close and to keep them safe and have them always,” Alex rambled, clearly trying his best to explain it.

For the first time, Rosa didn’t feel like she was drowning in confusion.

“Okay,” she said, “I’ve never felt like that before.”

“Ever?”

“No,” she said, laughing softly, “I thought that was fake.”

“Definitely not fake,” Alex said, looking at her with a soft look. Sort of like the one she tried so desperately to give him when he came to her, thirteen and miserable, to say he thought he liked boys and didn’t think he could tell anyone else.

He probably pulled it off much better than she did.

“Okay, then what does that make me? Heartless?” Rosa asked, though she didn't really feel bad about realizing what she wasn’t feeling. At least she knew that she was actually not feeling it and she wasn’t just drastically misunderstanding something. “A prude, maybe?”

“Have you ever looked into asexuality?” Alex asked. Rosa shook her head. “I haven’t really either to be fair. I actually learned about it from Michael. He apparently got really into queer literature and history whenever Max was dead, would read it to him as a way to be caring and annoying at the same time. Sometimes he’ll spout fun facts at me. Anyway, sounds like it might be something you wanna look into.”

“Okay, I will,” Rosa agreed, though she still found herself looking out to the nothingness.

“Not that you need labels. I just think sometimes knowing we’re not the only ones out there like us is helpful. And you’re already an anomaly in other ways, so might as well not make yourself feel more alone than you are, you know? It’s clearly upsetting you,” Alex said. Rosa nodded.

“I get it. Thanks.”

“And maybe talk to Isobel, tell her to give you some space.”

Rosa sighed, tilting her head back and closing her eyes for a moment. She just wanted everything to make since. She didn’t like navigating new friendships in the first place, it was scary and she was never able to gauge how they felt about her. It was easier, especially when she was sober, to just not deal with it. To just keep the friends she had now and push everyone else away.

But that wasn’t plausible or healthy and she knew it. That would lead a lonely existence and she was already lonely. She never felt like she was anyone’s person in the way she wanted to be someone’s person. And, really, it was a hard thing to request because she wasn’t sure how to explain it herself.

She supposed, however, that she would never get anywhere if she didn’t try.

“Seriously, trust me. Avoiding the tough conversations only leads to shitty situations. Like, you know, a decade of complications because you never speak,” Alex pointed out. Rosa rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t pull that card with me, it’s you and Guerin’s fault for all that.”

Alex grinned and shrugged.

“Yeah, but once we talked, we got to a place that we’ve both been wanting for a long time. So cut out the bullshit and just tell her what you want and don’t want. Again, if she gets mad, fuck her,” Alex said. Rosa nodded and sighed all over again. Sometimes she hated having to be grown up. “Okay, I’m gonna go to bed. We’ve got a big week, so try to get some sleep yourself, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too,” Rosa said, accepting his smile as he pushed himself up and made his way back into the suite and into the room he was sharing with Michael.

It was weird hearing it put into words. She obviously knew people liked each other in a way different than she could understand, but she had never really clocked how real it was to them. She understood craving someone’s attention and presence, but it wasn’t in the way it seemed to be for Michael and Alex or even Liz and Max. She thought they were just being fucking annoying.

Maybe there was something she was missing.

Reluctantly, Rosa pulled out her phone and opened the text thread she’d had with Isobel.

Rosa: Hey, I think we should talk when I get back. Set some boundaries, maybe.

Before it could even show that Isobel had seen it, Rosa exited out and put her phone on do not disturb. She stared out at the trees and nothingness for a few more minutes before she eventually got the courage to get up and go inside. She shut the glass door and laid down on the pullout couch that Alex had set up for her.

She hadn’t realized how tired she’d been until her head hit the pillow, a wave of exhaustion hitting her at full force. And she was thankful for that, honestly. It was easier to keep a clear head when you couldn’t stay awake.

Still, before she could fall asleep, she opened her notes app to type a reminder.

Asexuality. Ask guerin to borrow some of his books.

#rosa ortecho #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #happy birthday to amber midthunder

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prettyboymichaels-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Rewind, Rewire, Reword - Chapter 1: Where Did I Put That Map Again? (Pt. 1)

It’s the week before Wrestlemania 12, he’s preparing to give Shawn Michaels the fight of his life in their 60-minute Iron Man match, and his little brother has decided to drag him out to socialize on an otherwise perfectly ordinary Wednesday night.

Surely, this decision won’t take the course his life was on – and the course his relationship with Shawn was on – and send it into a tailspin.

(Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels ABO AU; NOT Kayfabe Compliant; Words: ~2k; Rating: M; Notes, trigger warning/s, tag list, and chapter under the cut!)

my massive bretshawn abo au is here! as I only have two-ish more scenes to write, and 10 chapters already written to publish on here (separated into smaller “parts” for tumblr, which means I technically have 21 chapters; they’ll be published fully on ao3), I’ve decided to try for an every other day publishing schedule to give myself more time to fully finish this book of the series. so. :) I’ve read and edited and reread and re-edited this more than almost any other fic I’ve written, so HOPEFULLY. I don’t want to edit it MORE after finally PUBLISHING it. sigh. anyway.

tw for: attempted sexual assault. it doesn’t actually occur, but this IS the jumping off point for the fic, and it will be referenced throughout. the tw “references to attempted sexual assault” will be used in any chapter that references it

tag list: @track12to13; @piratewithvigor; @sinderellanightwolf. tell me if you want to be tagged for any future chapters!

It was times like these when he wondered why he ever bothered going out at all.

They’d gotten to California two days before, early, the way they usually did, leaving the morning after their last match to get a head start and not arrive completely burnt out. They’d spent those two days getting acquainted with their hotel room, their rental car, and the stadium gym they were going to be using the next two weeks. However, “California” didn’t just mean “new match”, it also meant “new towns”, which meant “new opportunities to make Bret socialize”. He’d told Owen, repeatedly, in a variety of ways, that the last thing he needed was a fucking wingman, let alone his happily mated younger brother as a wingman, but he’d just brushed off everything he’d said and dragged him out anyway. “You have almost two weeks to prepare,” he’d scoffed, forcing him to change basically as soon as they got back to their room. “When’s the last time you really let loose?” he’d offered, trying to hustle him out almost before he’d had his shoes tied. “I promised mom I’d try something the last time we talked so would you stop digging your heels in, please,” was his final explanation, as he was hailing a cab to take them out of the city and to some smaller town a little less than an hour away, where they’d be less likely to get recognized, because getting mobbed in a bar or a club was always… not great, to say the least.

But it just really wasn’t Bret’s scene. It just really, really wasn’t. He wasn’t twenty anymore, he couldn’t power through a hangover the way he used to, and he wasn’t in the mood anyway, the way he hadn’t been for the last two years Owen’d been trying to set him up. He’d gotten used to being single by now, he’d even gotten used to his mother’s passive aggressive comments about it every time he called home, and, yeah, being used to it didn’t mean he liked it, but trying to find a date at this point in his life wasn’t exactly easy, at thirty-eight years old, in his line of work, with his designation. Honestly, he didn’t know why Owen was still trying so earnestly; the odds of Bret finding a decent prospective partner at some random club in Somewhere, California was so low it might as well be in the ground.

As such, instead of socializing, the way Owen wanted him to, he’d nursed a glass or two at the bar, had a fairly interesting conversation with an older woman who happened to be the designated driver for a group of girls giggling on the dance floor, and eventually called it quits after hitting the bathroom two hours in. It wasn’t even ten-thirty yet, you’d think he could last a little longer, and he could, he was just… bored. His bar mate was corralling her wayward group to leave, and Owen was having a grand time failing miserably at darts with what looked to be a group of regulars, so he just told him he was heading back to the hotel, refused to be guilted into a game no matter how many times Owen batted his eyelashes or how disappointed he looked, paid his tab, and slipped out into the night with a sigh and his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. It was only slightly cooler outside than it was inside, and it was much less crowded – a few smokers, on the other side of the street, and two people eating a pizza and using the box as their plate a little further down from that. Definitely less busy than Anaheim would be this time of night, and equally less well lit.

There was also, though, something he almost didn’t hear over the noise of the bar:

“…an’t change your mind now!”

“I agreed to go home with you, not you and your fucking friend–”

His foot still raised from where he’d been stepping to the curb to hail a cab, he cocked his head to the alleyway the voices had drifted from – and, there it was, he hadn’t been hearing things, because there was an incredulous laugh, a dull thump, and a pained grunt before another man said, amused, speaking over the rising growls, “C’mon, baby, you really think you’re in a position to turn us down? You’re the one about to go into heat, it won’t matter whose knot you’re taking soon enough.”

Bret was moving before the end of that sentence, rounding the corner to find three figures pressed up against the stone wall beside an open dumpster. They were mostly hidden from the orange street lamps outside the mouth of the alley, but he could still see rough impressions, and they weren’t very promising: two holding the third prone while the third tried to fight back, thrashing and almost snarling with how viciously he was growling, but he was getting nowhere fast, with how successfully he was being restrained. One’s nose was buried in this man’s throat, the other’s teeth visible in the low light as he grinned, and Bret felt his expression twist and harden as he stepped forward. “Hey! You’ve got three seconds to walk away before I make this a fair fight.”

That certainly got their attention, and he saw them all turn his way, their eyes flashing a little in the dark. Parts of their faces were highlighted now – the barest crests of their jaws, their cheekbones, their hair – but he could see the moment their nostrils flared and he was written off as nothing but a nuisance, which was only confirmed when one of them scoffed. “Run away, little beta, this doesn’t concern you.”

And then he turned right back around to continue scenting the man, the omega, who headbutted him so hard in the nose Bret could hear it crack from here. The man howled, staggering away and clutching at his gushing face with both hands, and Bret watched as the omega took advantage of the other man’s stunned disbelief to kick his legs out from under him and send him tumbling to the ground.

Bret didn’t waste any time. He stalked forward, hauling the one on the ground up by the collar of his coat and the waistband of his pants so he could toss him bodily into the open dumpster. The open, empty dumpster, if the clang of metal and yelp of pain were anything to go by. There was a choked off squeal from behind him, and he turned just in time to watch the omega’s leg come back down and the second perpetrator crumple into the fetal position, clutching his groin. That one quickly joined his friend in the dumpster, courtesy of Bret, and the groans and squeaks that resulted from that collision were incredibly satisfying.

He wiped his hands on his jeans before turning back to the omega, raising his hands placatingly when he, too, was met with a sharp, threatening growl. “Hey. You okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

There was an extended moment of silence. “…Bret?”

Oh, perfect, he’d been recognized– …Wait. He knew that voice. He squinted, edging closer, and fuck, now that his eyes had adjusted a little–

“…Shawn?!”

When it sounded like the men in the dumpster were starting to try and gather their bearings, Bret put his hand on – on Shawn’s shoulder and pushed him out of the alley and past the bar, letting his hand fall away and trusting Shawn to follow him as he lead them past another two buildings to turn the corner onto another block, and then a little further still, directly under a street light, far enough to see them coming if they tried it. After getting their asses handed to them so thoroughly, not just by their intended victim but by a little beta to boot, the alphas shouldn’t come sniffing around looking for seconds, but you could never be too careful.

“Jesus, Shawn, what the hell was that?” he hissed, shrugging his jacket off and settling it over Shawn’s shoulders in one fluid motion.

Or he would have, if the man didn’t take an immediate step back and bare his teeth at him, rubbing his arms. Bret scowled. “Can you stop being so stubborn for two seconds–”

“I’m two seconds from kicking you in the fucking balls, Bret, don’t test me,” Shawn barked, taking another step back for good measure. His voice was hoarser than it usually was, and Bret was a little worried about what he’d do if it cracked.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sucked in a breath through his mouth, and blew it out through his nostrils. “Look,” he settled on, staring at Shawn hard, who stared right back. In the orange light illuminating them, he could more clearly see his rumpled clothes, his wrecked hair, his blotchy face, but if he could compare him to anything right now it’d be a cornered animal. “Just – put it under your nose, okay? I know I don’t have much of a scent, but it’s gotta be better than whatever the fuck they were giving off.”

Shawn scoffed, but flexed his fingers from where they were clutching at his biceps, moving his eyes to his jacket. “Gee, when’s the last time you took a high school health class?”

“In high school, asshole, now take it.”

Shawn curled his lip, looking ready to keep arguing, but, shifting his weight on his feet, decided it wasn’t worth the effort, and snatched the jacket from Bret instead. He paused once he had it, glaring at him like he was expecting him to say something, and when Bret just crossed his arms and gave him a look, he finally shoved it under his nose and took a deep breath. Half the tension in his body released in one fell swoop, and with it came a hitch as he buried his face in the leather completely, his hands starting to shake.

Bret, deciding to give him a modicum of privacy, looked behind Shawn to make sure they hadn’t been followed (they hadn’t) and moved to the curb to finally hail a cab. Two of them passed, occupied, before he heard Shawn move up next to him, his jacket still stuffed under his nose. His eyes were a little red, and a little wet, but his cheeks were dry. “I wanna puke,” he rasped, muffled into the leather, and Bret gave a humorless snort.

“If you’re gonna, do it here,” he said, waving at another taxi, and this one actually responded, starting to pull up. “I sure as hell don’t wanna smell it all the way back to Anaheim.”

That earned him a grumble, more lighthearted than anything he’d heard out of Shawn’s mouth tonight, and Bret hid his relief by walking around the idling cab to talk to the driver at his window, digging out his wallet. “You got a divider?”

“Sure do, brother,” the cabbie told him, jerking his thumb to the backseat and the tinted glass that separated him from it. “Got some wet wipes back there, too. Just don’t leave any stains, huh?”

Bret frowned, because that made it all too clear what he thought they were planning on doing in his backseat, but threw a handful of twenties into the driver’s lap anyway, enough to make his eyes widen comically. “That’s to get us to Anaheim. There’s more where that came from if you get us there in forty.”

“Hell, brother, I’ll get you there in thirty,” the cabbie exclaimed, and Bret straightened back up after giving him the hotel’s address, waving at Shawn to get in on his side, which he did one-handed, slamming the door behind him as Bret followed suit. The divider deafened the cabbie’s music to a low rumble, and, as they pulled off, Bret started digging around in the mesh pocket attached to the back of the driver’s seat until he emerged with the aforementioned wet wipes. He tore the pack open, pulling half of them out in one go and passing them over to Shawn, who took them automatically with the hand that wasn’t holding Bret’s jacket to his nose, but gave him a look that said he had no idea what Bret was trying to do here.

He gestured to his own throat. “For your scent glands,” he explained, and he could see the moment the light went off, because Shawn started scrubbing at either side of his neck like a man possessed. Bret used the rest of the wipes to clean his own hands and stuffed them into his pocket after he was done, sinking back against the creaky plastic seats like they might swallow him up, lack of give or no.

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anothertimdrakestan · 3 years

Text

Heat Waves (TimKon)

Words: 3k

Hi! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been working on this for way too long and definitely have a pt2 planned out if you guys like part one! I hope you’ll take the time to read this because I spent way too long on it and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

for the like 0.1% of my audience that this overlaps with, yes, i too am utterly obsessed with Heat Waves for DNF and have been listening to this song on repeat for three days straight waiting for chapter 8. But, i figured why not let that amazing piece of absolute art inspire a Timkon fic cuz they have the same dynamic as DNF in my eyes! All credits go to tbhyourelame on ao3!

if you don’t know what heat waves is that’s fine this is just a regular fic but I highly recommend you checkout the amazing song here

It was as hot as death itself in Kansas. Not to mention a farm with no AC was just about the worst place Conner could be forced to “vacation” at. But Ma and Pa had been begging to have him over and the month of June just seemed to overlap, so there Kon was, sweating buckets in the middle of nowhere.

It felt so cold in Gotham. Though, the temperature was comfortable- the most comfortable it had been all year- but Tim always felt colder, lonelier, when Conner wasn’t by his side. The two of them were a duo, fitting together like a puzzle piece, the absolute best of friends and best of heroes. But now, he was using his mandatory away-from-the-tower weeks up while Conner was in Kansas, it was some sort of mandate that Bruce’s kids come home occasionally and instead of suffering weekends in Gotham Tim opted to just grind out a few weeks at the manor, even if it meant dealing with Damian’s unrelenting murder attempts. But it wasn’t all bad, Tim got to patrol with Bruce again, hang out with Jason occasionally, and even see Dick from time to time. “Family” bonding at it’s finest.

“Hello?” Tim’s voice was quiet, Kon constantly felt himself turning the volume button up on his phone just to hear a decibel more of his best friend’s comforting tone.

“Hey Timbers how was your day?” Conner felt himself relaxing to the light sound of Tim breathing, he was laying on the floor, spread like a starfish so that no sticky part of his body could touch and create more sweat.

“Nothing much, no patrol tonight- I guess you remembered,” Tim’s voice was filling his ears. I remember everything you tell me. “Yeah, yeah I did,” Conner quickly replied. “Any boring farm chores today?” Conner heard the familiar rustling, he could hear Tim stand up, he’d memorized the sound of Tim taking him off speaker and resting the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He could hear Tim’s hair, that he knew he was probably growing out, brush the mic. I always liked his hair longer.

“Kon?” Tim snapped him back into the stiflingly hot room. “Oh sorry, it’s really hot here, kinda makes me zone out. Um, I’m alright I got to hangout with the cows today which was cool- they don’t like the heat either but Ma says it’ll be over soon,” Conner rambled, all too focused on Tim’s breath in his ear.

“Sorry for making you zone out, I guess nothing interesting is happening here,” Tim sighed, Conner shook his head, rolling over on the floor, leaning down into the mic of his phone.

“Nothing about you bores me Tim,”

Tim didn’t reply. Conner mentally cursed himself, he was really too tired, too hot and bothered to be this flirtatious with Tim, who was a complete wild card when it came to Conner.

And then he answered, Tim’s voice was higher pitched, the way it ascended when he was blushing- he was blushing. “Well that’s not true, I’m very boring. When I’m doing cases or training or-” Conner couldn’t take it.

“Nothing about you could bore me Tim. I’m down to be with you whenever, doing whatever, you know that,” he felt his tone soften, loving the way Tim’s breath hitched with every compliment.

“Be with me?” Tim shot back playfully, Conner could practically hear the smirk toying on the smaller boy’s lips.

“Did I stutter?” Conner heard a loud noise, a thump. Tim’s voice was high pitched again, “Sorry- uh I dropped my phone,” Conner felt himself growing warmer, if at all physically possible. “No problem. So, what are you doing tomorrow with Bruce?” Conner didn’t like pushing Tim too far, hell, he barely knew how he felt half the time. Tim’s voice brightened, “Oh! We’re gonna go to this old ice cream shop I adored as a kid! It’s been too long since I’ve been there, you remember me talking about it?”

Conner didn’t need a second to answer, “Sub 30, you always get the one with the espresso poured over it,” he couldn’t lie, ice cream sounded absolutely heavenly at the moment. Tim’s voice flooded through the heat, “Right as always- I swear they programmed some sort of photographic memory inside of you,” Tim teased, Conner answered honestly, “I just listen when you tell me things”. The night went on, Tim quickly had to go, believe it or not he did sleep when given the opportunity. “Try not to die of heat exhaustion, drink lots of water throughout the day, not all at once,” Conner smiled, “will do, goodnight Timmy,” Tim answered mid yawn, “night Kon”.

And then he was alone. Alone with the heat, with his thoughts, the latter far more dangerous. He’s my best friend, of course I remember everything. Conner found himself staring at the ceiling, Ma had painted constellations on the walls and ceilings of the room, something funny about alien genes liking the stars. Conner used to be able to find every pattern, name every star, but the only shape he could trace was Tim. There were his eyes, they were pools of deep blue, they sparkled when he laughed but could glare bullets when he tried. If he stared hard enough Kon could find his hair, it’s always soft and smells delicious, layers falling effortlessly- cascading to frame his face. Then there were his lips, Conner found himself constantly mesmerized with the way Tim bit his bottom lip when thinking, the way they scrunched together when he said something funny, how they constricted when he bit the inside of his cheek just enough to hide the emotion he was so scared of portraying. They were perfect.

He let the heat take his mind, flowing with the stars as he thought dangerous thoughts about his best friend. His thoughts danced around Tim’s waist, flowing carefully around his chest, wrapping Kon in every layer of Tim’s personality, every smile, laugh, tear, scowl, it was Tim. Kon’s Tim.

And there, on the floor, he drifted to an uncomfortable, sweaty sleep.

Tim was scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Gotham was surprisingly boring. He once found the city bustling and distinctly alive but now it only left him cold, cold and bored.

“Ice cream as good as you remember?” Bruce’s voice lifted him from his device. “Yup! Can’t believe you let me have espresso at like 10, you basically started my addiction.” Tim threw on a smile, glancing down at the half eaten dessert. “Yeah, can’t say I was the best father but, I tried,” Bruce’s shoulders shook lightly, but the laughter didn’t make it to his eyes. Did you really try? Truly? Tim dove back into the creamy sweet, admiring the bitterness the espresso brought the flavor. His phone buzzed.

K: Did you get the ice cream?

T: yeah, you remembered?

K: You literally told me last night

T: have i been off your mind since?

K: No.

Conner always did this, every time Tim thought he’d throw him off guard with something funny or flirtatious just to have a little fun Kon took it and ran with it. And I’m always the one who ends up blushing. Tim thought, shaking his head. It was really his fault he let Conner get him riled up. They were best friends, flirting or dealing out little sexual quips were natural, and often pretty funny.

“Earth to Tim? I’ve got a meeting you wanna head back while I head to the office?” Tim glanced over at Bruce who was now standing up in front of him. “Yeah, I can work on cases back at the manor, you gonna head to the office?” stretching his arms he stood up, noticing Bruce had put on his business face- the one stone cold and dry that only brought back the worst memories. “Yes.” His response was gruff, Tim suppressed the shudder that tried to dance down his spine. “Uh yeah, I’ll head back, have a nice day B,” he smiled, hoping it made it to his eyes.

“You can’t keep calling me while I’m on patrol, it’s not safe,” Tim chastised Conner loosely, appreciating the company as his patrol with Damian was always deathly silent. “C’mon, you’re used to having me in your ear,” Tim gulped, glancing around for Damian who was three buildings over, deeply uninterested. “Kon, oh my god, I’m gonna mute you,” Tim whispered, revelling in the chuckle that stirred in Conner’s chest. It was deep, and warm, so distinctly warm Tim felt the heat budding in his chest.

“So, patrol with the demon? He hasn’t cut your grapple line yet?” Conner’s tone was low and silky smooth. Coughing to clear his throat Tim replied, “nope, he’s most horrific when Bruce is here, when he’s not the punk couldn’t care less whether I live or die,”

“I care,”

“I know Kon,” If only you knew how much I appreciated it.

“Asshole, can you hear me? I said we’ve got a gang robbery on second? You coming genius?” Damian’s disgusted tone flooded over his comm, and Tim quickly turned his attention to the bat-brat who was already grappling towards the alarms and shouts. Conner’s whisper asked, “can he hear me?” and Tim replied, “no, you’re on a separate channel, Dami can only hear me when I unmute. Just be quiet while I take out these thugs,”

“Why? Because my voice distracts you?” Conner’s tone shifted into dangerously flirtatious.

“No, cuz you’re annoying as shit,” Tim smirked, running across the top of a building, letting Damian call the signals so he didn’t get all upset.

“Do I make you uncomfortable Tim? Do I make you forget just exactly what you’re doing, whether you want to use your batarang or bo staff? Do I make you, warm? Because it’s so warm here, so hot, god I’m just so hot I-”

“Shut. Up.” Tim struck the gun out of a scared looking man. Rolling his eyes at the man in his ear.

“Why? Are you too focused? We’ve taken out much harder criminals all while talking. Aren’t we just talking right now?” Kon’s voice was ringing in his head like never before.

“I’m trying to focus but it’s no good when you’re in my ear.”

“And what if I wasn’t in your ear? You remember? When we work side by side, so close- are you an affectionate person Tim?” Tim could feel the heat dripping off of Conner’s voice, but he was taken aback by Conner’s new line of thought.

“Wha- what? Am I affectionate? I don’t know. Sometimes?” Tim almost missed a hit, huffing as Damian blocked what would’ve been a hard blow on him. “Start paying attention Drake,” Damian’s tone was acidic. But he was drawn back into his com as Conner’s voice flooded his ears again.

“Would you be affectionate with me?”

“Yes” Tim’s breathless reply was instant, his brain not giving him a chance to think.

“Good, I like that. You know I’m very affectionate too? I like getting to hold the people I care about close, feeling their warmth. You know I’m very warm right now?”

“I- I know Kon, I bet, are you doing alright? Drinking water?” Tim shook out the thought of Conner lazing out in his room, sweaty, lips parted as he pushed out warm breath- Stop. Focus. Your job is to defend these people. Damian’s doing a good job, You just have to round up the civilians. Tim forced himself back into the real world, taking on one of the gang members with ease, tying him up swiftly before moving on to the next.

“I heard that, I can hear it every time you take out one of those men. This is easy isn’t it? I can’t be that distracting to you. You’re too good.”

“You always do this,” Tim felt his cheeks heating up, his steps felt forced, like he had to remind himself to breathe. Tim carefully rounded up civilians, escorting them to safety as Conner started again in his ear.

“Always do what Tim? Tell you how much I appreciate you? How much I miss you? Do you not think you deserve to be missed? To be loved?”

“Conner” Tim’s tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. But nonetheless Conner continued.

“Why not? Why the hell not? You’re amazing Tim.”

Tim scoffed, playing it off as a cough to the people in front of him.

“What do you need to hear Tim? That you’re amazing? Brilliant?-”

“Oh my god Kon-” Tim interrupted, but Conner wasn’t done.

“Talented? Impressive? [his tone deepended] - Attractive?”

“I’m gonna hang up,” Tim was breathing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. The compliments were all that consumed his thoughts, swirling around his brain, packing it full of deep, dangerously flammable thoughts.

And Conner was ready to let it burn.

“You need to be kissed Tim,” Conner murmurs, throat raw, “so hard that you can’t remember your name- maybe then you’ll understand what I mean.”

The batarang in Tim’s hand clattered to the floor. Damian’s head whipped to him as Tim struggled to regain function.

“I’m muting you, see you in a bit,” was all Tim could choke out before he ripped the earpiece out, unable to let it sit, burning into his skull. You’re almost done here, cool down, finish up. Tim told himself as he manually reminded himself to breathe. You’ve got this.

Conner knew Tim ended the call. But he didn’t have the energy to stop the endless beeping from the disconnected phone.

He was laying on the floor of his room, limbs spread out as he clawed for anything that could cool him down, but all he could feel was heat as he stared up at the stars.

He had to admit, he’d pushed Tim further than ever before. But it felt too right to stop, too good. He couldn’t stop replaying the way Tim’s breath hitched after every word, desperately grasping for the feeling budding up in his chest. It was too addictive to not let the words he’d spent too long crafting pour from his lips into Tim’s heart.

Kon didn’t know how long he laid there, dazed in the heat, just trying to relive word after perfect word.

Until his phone rang.

“Tim?” his voice was ragged and raw.

Tim’s was high pitched and tight. “Conner what the hell was that? Was that funny to you? Saying all those things- flirting with me while I’m trying to do my job?”

“Flirting?” Conner mused, staring at the stars with a tattered smirk on his face.

“Don’t act dumb, I don’t know what kind of sick joke it was saying all that while I’m on patrol but I’m glad you think you’re funny,” Tim’s voice was cold. But not the cooling tone, it was sharp, like the way the freeze of ice can feel so painfully hot when applied too harshly.

“I would’ve said it to you no matter what you were doing,” Conner whispered, resting his phone on his chest, wincing at the sticky noise it made as he tried to adjust it’s positioning.

“So that was just all for you? To let you listen as you screwed with my brain?” Tim retorted.

Conner was done dancing around the truth, all forms of control eluding his mind. “Yes,”

“That’s cruel Kon, can you imagine if I did that with you? Told you how you needed to be kissed while you’re out with Jon or something?” Tim sounded exasperated, but at the end of each quip Kon could hear the deep breaths he was taking. Does- Does he like this?

Tim continued. “Don’t answer that. Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘Oh Tim it’s not the same,’ just- just get out of my head!”

Conner sat up. He was floating. Floating in the middle of his room, the phone on his chest tumbling to the floor as he scrambled to grab it again, feeling his feet touch the ground as he held the phone as close to his lips as he could.

“What do you mean Tim? How am I in your head?” Do you feel the same way I do right now?

“You- you just know me. So well, and when you say stuff like that- when you’re in my ear saying those things your voice, it’s like fire, it burns.” Tim sounded desperate, his voice painfully strained.

Conner’s head was spinning, “I burn you?” he matched Tim’s desperate tone.

“You melt me.”

Conner’s head slammed against the roof of his room, as he tried to regain control of his senses he heard Tim murmur, “does that make sense?”

“More than you know Timbers, more than you know,” Conner could hear Tim let out a sigh, the kind that told him all would be okay.

As Conner took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come Tim spoke first. “It’s so late Kon, I’ve been up to long, I think I need to go to bed,” Tim’s tone was soft again, the cooling, comforting tone that Kon was scared he’d never hear again.

"Yeah, I- uh, have chores in the morning anyways.” Conner answered, hoping to give Tim some peace of mind.

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight Conner,” Tim said quietly, his tone thoughtful and slow, finally letting the sleep crowd his mind.

“Goodnight Tim, talk to you tomorrow?” Conner let too much hope sink into those last few words.

“Yes, night now,” Tim answered easily, quickly hanging up the call, letting Conner sink down back into the carpet of his floor.

“Tomorrow,” Conner whispered to himself, feeling the intense heat start to creep back in as he drifted into a sweaty sleep.

“Tomorrow,” Tim whispered to himself, trying to swallow the nerves he didn’t know Conner could draw out of him.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

not my usual fic but I really hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @vintageroses10 @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @foenixphire @how--are--you @psych0crybaby @romance-is-tragic @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek also kita cuz i love u and wanted to try writing timkon more in your style hehehe @river-bottom-nightmare

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soren-bleu-kun · 3 years

Text

Take the Nap, Midoriya

Hey there, welcome back to ShinDeku Month, which is, surprise, hosted by @shindekumonth. I enjoyed writing for these prompts, I honestly don’t feel like the boys get enough love. I’m also very tired, so I’m glad that I had the foresight to write a bunch of these. Except Day Nine, couldn’t get that day to work with me. Anyways, fic [Hypno Therapy] :

Midoriya isn’t nearly as clever as he’d like to think that he is.

Sure, yes, he’s smart. Very book smart, always being the first person in class to raise his hand and figuring out things on the fly that Shinsou’s still trying to even though they’ve both made it to their second year. Math class definitely isn’t his strong suit.

But that being said, Midoriya, in other ways, is an idiot.

Like the way he doesn’t think that anyone can see him when he’s clearly in pain. Maybe he just expects everyone to let him suffer through it alone, and honestly they probably would have if he didn’t say anything.

Maybe that’s one of the only reasons that he’s here. To keep his moron from running himself into the ground.

The issue comes in when Midoriya almost admits to liking it.

Alright, that isn’t exactly right.

He just pushes himself too hard, every time. It’s like there’s something in him that just refuses to sit still long enough for him to heal, only stopping when he physically can’t keep going anymore, usually because of him breaking various bones.

Tonight the two of them are sitting in Shinsou’s mostly bare dorm.

It’s the only room outside of the common room that Shinsou likes to study in because he doesn’t like all of the All Might’s staring at him in Midoriya’s room. There’s something about it that just rubs him the wrong way.

So, they stay here. Midoriya at the desk, Shinsou lying on his bed, more fucking around with the sudoku app on his phone instead of the homework on his bed right next to him.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches Midoriya try to pick up his pencil again.

He keeps getting a hand on it, writing for a few moments, before his hand gives out and he drops it again. The two of them don’t talk about it much.

It’s probably not what he’s supposed to do, but Shinsou finds himself waiting to see if maybe, just maybe, Midoriya takes a break on his own.

That’s never what ends up happening, of course, but it’s not something that Shinsou can really get mad at him over either. Midoriya should be okay with stopping, Shinsou should be better at stepping in when he needs to. They have things to work on.

“Izuku?”

“Yeah?”

He sounds frustrated and he probably is.

Shinsou’s pretty sure that they’ve never talked about it before, but it seems like Midoriya’s hands - arthritis? - gets worse when it rains outside. There is rain out there, tapping away on the screen door separating them from the outside.

“Wanna take a break?”

“I don’t think I have the time for it.”

“Humor me.”

Midoriya almost sighs as he turns the chair around to somewhat look at Shinsou.

“What did you want to do?”

“Use my Quirk on you.”

He doesn’t get the look he was expecting - he never does when it’s Midoriya - but he does get something of a question in it.

“Sometimes my Quirk helps with pain,” he explains shortly. “Because everything’s fuzzy, you won’t feel as much.”

There’s more silence while Midoriya thinks about it. Shinsou knows that he isn’t asking himself if he can trust Shinsou, he knows it. They know each other well enough that they should have passed that at this point.

“Think of it as research for your book and a break.”

“I mean… How would you know when to let me go?”

“I’d put a timer on my phone.”

“I don’t know, this work-”

“-Can wait.”

The two of them stare at each other for a moment before Midoriya yields.

“Come here.”

“Where?” Midoriya asks, standing up.

Shinsou holds out his arms.

“Cuddling… for comfort.”

It takes them a minute to settle into a position that’s comfortable. Midoriya always likes to cuddle, now that he’s used to it, but that’s made difficult with all of his aches and pains. Not that it will be an issue in a moment.

“Let’s just… start with ten minutes… Unless you want to go lower?” Shinsou asks, pulling up the clock app.

Midoriya thinks about it for a moment.

“I think ten should be fine. Then maybe we can play around with more time. Is it hard to keep someone under control?”

“Depends on how hard they fight.”

They always fight him when they use his Quirk, even Aizawa for training the extents of how much it works, until Midoriya doesn’t.

Midoriya trusts Shinsou, of course he does. It would be a poor foundation for their relationship if he didn’t. He hasn’t been asked to do anything, and he’s pretty sure that it’s already been a few minutes. He isn’t afraid, and he just tries to breathe and relax.

It’s actually kind of nice. Shinsou was right, the pain in his hands that throbs it’s way up his arms is dulled. When he was put under the sports festival, and later during the joint training, he hadn’t really had the time to focus on his pain. Now that the two of them are just lying here, Shinsou quietly playing with Midoriya’s hair, he has the time to just lie there and think.

He likes it, even though he doesn’t like the idea of wasting time. Aw well, can’t have everything. Taking a break is in his best interest anyways.

Midoriya drifts off.

#my writing #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hitoshi shinsou #izuku midoriya #shindeku #shindoriya #shindekumonth2021 #shindekumonth

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jibber-jibber-chicken-dinner · 3 years

Text

Sexy Things Happen Bingo -- Dom/sub

♡ Title: Until It's All Right

♡ Word Count: 2,982 words.

♡ Relationship: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

♡ Rating: Explicit (18+, nsfw elements, BDSM.)

♡ Warning: Not Applicable

♡ Summary: Eddie and Buck plan an afternoon to try something new in the bedroom amid their Dominant & Submissive dynamic.

♡ Beta: Not Beta Read

♡ Notes: A request by @perfectlynervousbeard for the Dom/sub square on @milkymarjan's Sexy Things Happen bingo card. Featuring Dom/sub (obviously), wax play, bondage/restraints, gagging, spanking, and comfort & aftercare. An already-established safeword and the color system ARE INCLUDED (as they should be, in any BDSM scene).

Read on AO3.

Buck looked himself over in the mirror, biting his lips and exhaled a breath once he'd decided that, yeah, he was going to do this. 'It's Eddie,' he reminded himself silently, 'He is going to take care of you, and he won't make you do anything he knows you aren't okay with. Now get out there.'

Buck gave himself a quick, chin jerk of a nod before he threw open the door and headed into Eddie's bedroom to find his boyfriend laying on the bed, naked, posed kind of seductively and looking lazily up at Buck (who was also naked) when he'd emerged from the bathroom.

"Was starting to think you'd flushed yourself down the toilet or something." The brunette commented, his lips quirking into a smirk once Buck's cheeks coated in a light pink.

"No, I- I was just working up the nerve to get out here and tell you that I...I wanna try this. I really wanna try this. I'm ready."

"Yeah? You're sure?" Eddie asked, getting up and making his way towards Buck, cupping the blonde's face in his palms and rubbed Buck's cheek bones softly. The younger man nearly purred at the touch and he nodded, his expression dazed as he locked eyes with Eddie, "I'm sure, Eds."

The blonde leaned in for a kiss; a question and a request at the same time. Eddie hummed fondly, closing the space between their lips and kissed his boyfriend with pure adoration, love, and infatuation. Buck whimpered, wanting more, his mind suddenly reeling at all the possibilities of tonight. Eddie’s lips quirked into a smirk as they remained pushed against the blonde’s still; he dropped his right hand down to Buck’s hip, his fingers digging in as he yanked the younger man forward possessively.

Eddie tore his lips off of Buck’s, moving to press them against the blonde man’s earlobe, “Get on the bed, lay on your back and put your arms above your head; no sounds, no talking, got it?”

Buck shivered and nodded frantically, his cock already twitching with interest at the change in his Dom’s tone. “Go on, then.” Eddie ordered, pulling away from the man totally; Buck whimpered at the loss of contact but did as he was told, laying down on the bed, on his back, placing his arms above his head and clasped his hands as they rested against the headboard.

Eddie returned to the bed after rummaging in their closet with a few items in his hands. Buck bit his lip when he stared down the ball gag and leathery cuffs laying on the bedsheets by his thigh. He swallowed, looking up at Eddie with nervous eyes but didn't say a word like Eddie had said.

"What's our safeword? You may use your words." Eddie asked.

"Sunflower, sir." Buck answered immediately. 'Sunflower' had been their safeword for almost three years, and Eddie always made sure Buck knew it was valid and okay to use it at any time during their scenes in the bedroom.

"Color?" The Dom prompted gently, returning to his familiar caring nature, never wanting to push Buck too far or ask for too much without being absolutely sure that his Sub could take it.

"Green." Buck answered, smiling timidly.

Eddie did not his usual affirming smile, instead he lifted a brow, "Green, what?"

Buck flushed, squirming a little, "Green, s-sir." He whispered.

"What was that?" Eddie growled, inching his lips towards Buck's, his eyes dark in lust for the younger man. Buck whimpered, his cock hardening just from the tone of Eddie's voice alone.

"I said: green, sir." He clarified, louder this time.

"Good boy." Eddie murmured, joining their lips in a chaste kiss before he pulled away and picked up the cuffs, "Hands in place." He said.

Buck complied, separating his clasped hands and stretched his arms out so Eddie could cuff him into place. The brunette hummed his approval, securing Buck's wrists and asked, "Good? Or too tight? You may use your words."

"It's perfect, sir. Thank you." Buck answered, to which Eddie rewarded him with another brief kiss on the lips for remembering to say "thank you."

Buck wanted to mewl his desire for a longer kiss but he stopped himself; he wanted to be good, always good, for his Eddie.

The brunette then lifted the ball gag from its place next to Buck’s thigh and held it towards the blonde’s face, “Is this okay?”

He hadn’t given Buck permission to use his words, so the younger man just nodded his consent. Eddie fastened the gag around Buck’s head, slipping the ball part between the blonde’s lips and shifted it so it sat in Buck’s mouth comfortably. “What do you do to safeword when you can’t speak?” Eddie prompted.

Buck snapped his fingers three times.

“What if I don’t hear your fingers?”

Buck thumped his foot on the mattress twice.

“Good boy.” Eddie said, stroking Buck’s jaw softly before he shifted away to grab a candle that Buck hadn’t even noticed he had placed on their nightstand, next to the bed where Buck was cuffed. “We’re going to start slow, okay?” Eddie said, gesturing from the candle to Buck’s body; the blonde nodded his silent agreement. “It’s a vanilla massage candle; the wax from the candle is actually made to go on your body, that’s why I picked this one,” The brunette explained as he took a lighter from inside the drawer of the nightstand, “I’m going to start just below your shoulders, and then make my way to your chest, alright? Snap once if you’re okay with that, Buck.”

Buck snapped his right thumb and index finger together, never breaking contact with Eddie’s eyes. He wanted to be good; he wanted to do this; but he knew Eddie wouldn’t think less of him if he couldn’t, if it at any point became too much. Buck knew it was okay to safeword.

He watched as Eddie lit the candle and his eyes followed the flame that flickered back and forth, almost mesmerizingly. “Good boy. Being so good, Evan.” Eddie said in that familiar low and soft voice that could make Buck float, and just keep floating until Eddie pulled him back down to Earth after their scene was over. The blonde made a “mph,” noise through the gag in his mouth, then startled as he remembered the “no noises” rule that Eddie had placed.

Eddie lifted a brow, “Did I give you permission to make noise?”

Buck shook his head slowly, his eyes pleading; he just wanted to be good, so good, good for his Dom, good for Eddie.

“Strike one.” Eddie hummed simply, his eyes watching the wax collect beneath the flame on the candle.

Strikes? There were strikes? Buck didn’t know that there were strikes, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Okay, I’m going to start.” Eddie said, locking eyes with Buck again. The blonde nodded, pretty much having to bite his tongue or else he was afraid a noise would slip through showing how excited and eager he was to cover this new ground with his Dom.

“Good boy.”

Eddie tilted the candle above Buck’s collarbones and his heart leapt as he felt the hot (but it was a comfortable kind of hot, not hot like burning) wax drop onto his skin, just below his left shoulder. This time he actually bit his tongue in his attempt to stop the hum that probably would have escaped his throat otherwise.

“Nod if this is okay, Buck. Is the temperature good?”

Buck nodded slowly, intrigued by this new feeling on his skin; he didn’t know what to make of it yet, but he didn’t hate it.

And he definitely did not hate it when Eddie began massaging the wax (which was kind of oily, honestly) into his skin, smoothing over his left breast. His breathing hitched when Eddie’s thumb swiped a nipple, and the barely-there-smirk on the brunette’s lips told Buck that, yeah, he totally did that on purpose.

‘Ass.’

Eddie met Buck’s gaze again, “I’m going to do more now, Buck, okay? Nod for me if that’s okay.”

Buck nodded slowly but eagerly; this wasn’t so bad at all.

Eddie dripped more of the wax onto Buck’s right side, and it was definitely more than the first time. Buck squirmed as the heated wax trickled down his shoulder, his collarbone, and down right over his nipple, and-

‘Oh god, that’s nice.’

Buck tilted his head back and blushed as he felt his cock twitch in interest between his thighs. “You like that, huh?” Eddie husked, rubbing the wax over the blonde’s right breast and up to his shoulder, then down again and he tweaked a nipple. It fucking felt good.

Buck tried to focus on how much he didn’t want to make a noise and disappoint his Dom, but goddamn it, a whimper slipped out because how the fuck could it not when Eddie was being so Eddie?

“Was that a sound, Evan?” Eddie growled.

‘Shit.’

“Did you make a sound, when I don’t remember giving you permission to make a sound?” The brunette asked, resting the candle on the nightstand. Fuck.

Buck gulped, looking into Eddie’s eyes with pleading ones as he all but silently begged for mercy from his Dom. Eddie tutted, “That’s strike two, sweetheart. One more strike, and I’m going to have to punish you, alright? Nod if you understand, Buck.”

Buck nodded his understanding. Eddie returned with a small, affirming smile. “Good boy. Be good for me, Evan, I know you can.”

Buck all but melted on the inside; Eddie’s good boy. He was Eddie’s. He could be good, he could be silent. He could.

His heart stuttered when he caught Eddie leaning down his torso, his breath ghosting over Buck’s abs and drifting over Buck’s semi hardened cock. It jerked when Eddie licked a stripe over his right hip bone, sinking his teeth into Buck's flesh in a soft love bite, and the blonde man swallowed hard once he felt goosebumps rising where the brunette’s breath tickled over his groin. Eddie smirked at the very silent but very obvious reaction his actions were earning from his Sub and he basked in the way he could milk every bit of desperation from Buck; the younger man was such a whore for Eddie’s lips and his tongue. Eddie knew this, and he was purposefully being a shit about it.

Buck ground his teeth; he would not make a sound, he would be good for Eddie. He would.

“So eager,” Eddie mused, his every breath igniting Buck’s arousal and causing his cock to stiffen, “Such an eager little slut for me, hm?”

Buck glared down at Eddie who was now looking up at the blonde through his lashes; his mouth painful inches away from his Sub’s dick. “Bet you just want me to take you in my mouth, swallow you down, and make you cum quick and easy, right?” He drew out. “But we’re not going to do that, Evan. I want to make this last.”

Buck’s head hit the pillow with a light thump and he shut his eyes; of course Eddie wanted to make this last. But Buck was so ready for this to be moving along; he wanted, no, he needed Eddie.

The younger man suddenly felt fingers gripping his jaw; his eyes snapped wide open in surprise and then Eddie’s face appeared in front of his own, “You’re going to look at me, Evan,” the brunette demanded. “Got that? Blink twice if you understand.”

Buck did as he was asked.

Eddie smiled small, his grip on Buck's jaw releasing before he soothed the tense muscle with his thumb. "Good boy. 'M gonna fuck you now, Buck. But I'm gonna put a ring around your cock so you don't cum. No sounds, no talking, but I'm going to remove the gag. You're on your last strike; one sound, one noise, and I'll punish you. Understand? Nod if this if you understand, Buck."

The blonde man nodded, feeling a bit of drool dribbling down past his lip and his chin. He would be good.

Eddie continued caressing his Sub's jaw and with his free hand, he unfastened and removed the gag. "What's your color, Evan?"

Buck swallowed the saliva that had collected in his mouth while the gag had been inside before he said, "Green... sir."

Eddie grabbed a tissue and wiped Buck's chin gently. "That's my boy." Eddie murmured, rubbing his thumb along the man's cheekbone before he grabbed their bottle of lube from their nightstand.

He lathered his half-hard cock, stroking it to get it to reach full hardness and Buck watched with hungry eyes. The blonde man licked his lips, squirming where he was restrained. He wanted to touch. He wanted to touch his Dom, touch his cock, run his hands down Eddie's chest, grab onto his shoulders as the older man fucked him, rope his fingere through his brown hair; he wanted, needed, his Dom.

Eddie kneeled by Buck's thighs, spreading them with his strong hands and rubbed a generous amount of lube in his right hand, over his fingers.

He circled the ring of tight muscles, pushing against Buck's hole teasingly; the younger man bit down on his lip, squirming his ass against the bedsheets. Eddie smirked.

The brunette continued the teasing a few seconds longer before his index finger slipped into Buck's ass up to the last knuckle. Eddie quirked a brow.

"You're loose," he observed. "Have you played with yourself today?"

Buck looked at Eddie, silent. Eddie chuckled, "You may use your words, Buck. Good boy for remembering."

Buck preened even though he knew he was about to be in trouble for touching himself earlier without permission. He nodded, "E-Earlier this afternoon. I-I'm sorry, sir, I know I shouldn't have."

Eddie tutted, removing his finger from Buck's ass and the blonde had to swallow a whimper at the loss.

Eddie shuffled up the bed, unfastening the restraints on Buck's wrists. "Get over my lap, Buck. You broke the rules; I'm going to give you ten spanks for touching yourself without permission. When are you allowed to safeword during your punishment? You may use your words." He asked.

"At any time, sir." Buck answered promptly; Eddie always made sure Buck remembered the rules regarding safewording. Buck was allowed to safeword at any time in which he was not okay with what was happening; at any time that his color was not green.

"What's your color?"

"Green, sir."

Eddie nodded, seating himself at the edge of their bed and beckoning for Buck to position himself. The blonde made his way towards his Dom, draping himself over Eddie's lap; his stiff cock pinned between his torso and Eddie's thigh.

He bit his lip harshly to hold in a moan as Eddie's thigh shifted, rubbing against Buck's now-touch-sensitive shaft.

"Count for me, Buck." Eddie said. Buck closed his eyes and waited for the first force of impact.

And as he anticipated, Eddie's large hand came down in a SMACK over Buck's right cheek. The blonde grit his teeth and squeaked, "One."

By the time they reached "four", Buck had tears rolling down his cheeks, but he was okay. He didn't need to tap out. He grounded himself in the feel of Eddie's hand pressing against his chest to hold him.

"Five!" Buck yelped on the fifth, biting his bottom lip, now raw from abuse.

At "nine", Buck's thighs were trembling and the cry of "ten!" was barely coherent through the shakiness of his voice. But he was okay; his head flopped against the edge of the mattress and Eddie's voice came from a far distance.

Buck was pulled up and into Eddie's chest, his cock leaking precum against his stomach and he could feel Eddie's own erection pressing against his skin. But these sensations were hardly noticable against the tingling of his nerves and the buzz in his ears.

"Good boy," Buck heard Eddie whisper into his ear. The blonde thought he replied but it probably came out in a slur and barely audible. "So good, Buck. You took your punishment so well, Evan. You've been such a good boy for me, babe. I've got you."

Buck's head was heavy; he let all of its weight fall and rest against his Dom's shoulder, his face nuzzled into the crook of Eddie's neck.

"Come back, Buck. Come back to me. Slowly, take your time... We'll stay here until you're ready, sweetheart."

Buck's cock was heavy and needing attention, but it hardly mattered right now. All he could feel was the blanket that was his Dom's arms wrapped securely around him, holding him in place, grounding him, calling him back to Earth.

"Good boy, Evan. I love you so much. I'm right here, take your time, you're safe, Buck."

Buck's mouth was dry. He tried moving his head to look up through glazed eyes to be met with Eddie's warm, loving hazel orbs. "I'm right here, Buck. What do you need, babe?" The brunette asked softly. Buck hummed, eyelids falling shut again and he mumbled, "Water?"

"I'm going to lay you back while I get the water, okay?" Eddie said, his voice like a blanket of warmth and soft as wool engulfing Buck in a strong embrace. The blonde man smiled subconsciously.

Strong arms lifted Buck, laying him back against the mattress and bedsheets, a kiss pressed to his head. Buck was barely aware of the time between laid back and when Eddie returned beside him with a glass of tapwater.

Eddie lifted Buck's head and the blonde drank in earnest. He curled into Eddie's side, knowing they would continue with their scene when Buck was fully back down on Earth, fully aware of his surroundings.

And Eddie was perfectly okay with waiting, holding his Sub until all was okay.

Leave a review and your thoughts! I'd love to know what yall think about our first published Buddie smut piece 😂🙈

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saint-eridell · 4 years

Text

7:41 AM | Deku/F!reader fluffsmut

By demand of @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten, here’s a oneshot I wrote months ago while on an AU spree. Unbeta’d, I just wanted to put something up for people here to read. c:

8.3k, no major content warnings (aside from the possibility of dental work once your teeth start falling out from the fluff). All characters are in their early twenties.

It’s an exceedingly rare occasion when you and Izuku have the same day off. It’s such an uncommon thing that you can’t remember the last time it happened. When you peek over at the alarm clock next to your bed, you immediately smile - the green-faced display says it’s 7:41, a new record for Longest Morning Cuddle. You resolve yourself to keep the streak going as long as possible as you tuck an elbow under your pillow and consider dozing off again.

Something moves in the corner of your vision - an arm, your still mostly asleep brain registers - and drapes itself over your waist. A strong hand flattens itself over your midsection as an equally solid body tucks itself against your back. Izuku groans quietly, clearly still sound asleep. You chuckle quietly and curl back into him. “Good morning,” you whisper to test the waters.

You feel a set of lips curl into a smile against the back of your neck. “Morning,” he murmurs back, rough and gravelly with fatigue. Was he even awake yet? You’d seen him essentially sleepwalk to the coffee maker in the kitchen plenty of times; talking in his sleep is more than plausible. He settles again with a sigh that brushes over your neck and the back of your ear, and you can’t help but quietly laugh to yourself. Yep. Definitely still asleep, then.

Not that it matters in the slightest. The sun has only barely begun to light up the blinds that cover the bedroom windows. If he wants to sleep in, you’ll be the last one to stop him. Izuku never took time for himself anymore; between everything that Deku required of him and the constant training it took to keep up with the top spot, there wasn’t much left for the man behind the suit. Izuku’s the one in your bed, not the superhero he is during the day, and that means he doesn’t owe anyone shit for once. The fact that you have even a tiny bit to do with this makes you more than a little happy.

The hand not pushed under your pillow traces idle lines up and down his forearm, careful to not linger on any rough spots or seams. You’ve yet to work up the nerve to ask about the marks that cover his body, despite things being consistent between you for several months. It just doesn’t feel right to ask about. When Izuku wants to talk about it, he’ll say so… right?

Your nails circle the top of his wrist, then trail over the back of his hand. He picks his hand up and slides your fingertips between his knuckles before you can drift back up his arm, your fingers interlocked when he tucks them under your chin. You smile again, halfway obscured by your pillow, your conundrum momentarily forgotten. “Sneaky,�� you murmur.

You feel him chuckle against the back of your neck, the soft breath that he huffs out enough to have the hair on the base of your scalp standing on end. “Observant,” he replies quietly, his voice rough from a night of sleeping like a boulder. “You turned your alarms off.”

“So did you,” you point out.

Izuku shrugs. “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” He’s beginning to sound a little more lucid, but his arm is still a heavy weight over your side and his frame sags into you like a weighted blanket. It’s entirely too early for him to be doubting himself, and you’re far too comfortable to even flirt with the idea of him running off.

You roll your eyes. “From getting cold,” you jab back. “You’re not going anywhere, so don’t get any funny ideas.”

His smile widens against your neck. “Funny ideas?” he asks back, his sleepy but earnest tone juxtaposed against the teeth you can feel brushing against your hairline. Even while mostly asleep, Izuku can still play the Boy Scout card like an absolute bastard. “I dunno what you mean.” You glance back toward him out of the corner of your eye, and even if he’s out of direct sight for you he’s close enough to see you looking because he immediately noses behind your ear. “What, don’t trust me?” he pouts.

You tilt your head and give him more room to nuzzle against your neck. “With my life,” you reply honestly. “But you’re a shitty liar when you’re fully cognizant and trying your hardest.”

Izuku laughs, a low sound that rumbles through you from behind and lingers under your skin as he pulls you closer. “I’m as innocent as a church mouse,” he murmurs back, mirth dripping through the mock innocence. He lets go of your hand, his index finger tracing down the hollow of your throat. “What would make you think otherwise?”

You have a hunch. You curve your back into his chest, and are rewarded with a half-hard but definitely interested shaft pressed to your backside. He lets out a quiet noise somewhere between a squeak and a groan and reciprocates the movement. “Nn- now that is entirely on you.”

You smile into your pillow. “No, that was you.” You grind against him again, slotting him between your cheeks for more contact. “This is me.” His hand immediately closes around your hip and pulls you in closer, his own hips returning the motion with enthusiasm. “Still feeling innocent?”

His lips brush over the side of your neck, not enough to make direct contact but enough to have you shivering on the spot. The huff he lets out ghosts over your loose tee shirt collar. “Why, you wanna corrupt me?” he asked back. The hand on your hip lets go, returning to palm the round curve of your ass. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped to a low rumble that sinks directly into your bones and renders them down to gelatin in mere seconds. “Because I could be convinced to lay still with the right offer.”

Bastard. That purr. Memories of the things he’s poured into your ears using that voice have gotten you through many a multi-day mission. He knows what it does to you, just like he’s perfectly aware that his shy act is precisely that - a pretense, an amusing yet convenient wall to keep all but the most intimately familiar of people out. And to top it off with a shiny bow, Izuku can weaponize it at the drop of a hat. He’s a clever, quick-witted bastard and the realization that he’s really the one lying behind you, baiting his obscenity with honey and only letting you get a taste, has a happy bubble of warmth blooming in your chest.

The absolute bastard.

He catches you off guard by pressing a kiss just behind your ear. He places another just below it and continues downward as you squirm against the hand gripped to your ass. “Thought you were gonna show off,” you point out, very aware of how warm the skin under your shirt collar is getting as he approaches your shoulder with the edges of his teeth.

He tilts his head far enough to catch your eye. He’s sitting up on an elbow that’s planted behind your head, dark teal eyes fixated on you with only traces of the fatigue that had dragged him down earlier. “Thought you were gonna convince me to,” he purrs back, a sharp edge peering through his smile.

That’s enough of a hint for you. You turn onto your back and grab him by the chin, his smile only widening as you pull him down and seal your mouths together with a hungry noise. He shifts to kneel between your spread knees without argument, draping them around his hips.The kiss gets progressively needier as you both shake what remains of your sleepiness, tongues more grappling than dancing by the time you separate for a desperately needed breath.

It takes you an extra second. The window behind your headboard has lit up enough to allow soft golden light to filter through, the rays illuminating only the longest curls that stick out of his head. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink under a spray of freckles that stand out in sharp relief, as is his heavily shifting chest as he stares down at you with wet, parted lips. The scars that cover every part of him you can see stand out like his freckles, stripes of jagged, smooth pink against weathered tan that both entice and entrance you as you look them over. It’s a fact that you’ve obviously realized already, but… Izuku really is gorgeous. Like, the kind of gorgeous that has you swallowing down butterflies the second they walk in the room.

He blinks and reaches a hand to push a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, snapping you from your reverie with a sharp inhale. “You okay?” he asks, devoid of anything but genuine concern and a softness that makes your heart ache in your chest.

You nod and dart your tongue over your lips. “Yeah,” you confirm, winded. It would be a little awkward to explain that you’d been momentarily dumbstruck and reduced to a puddle because your bedroom has God-tier selfie lighting and your boyfriend looks like an angel when he’s not spazzing out. You pull him down again, this time with a hand spread over his jaw as you dive back into trying to remove any trace of his own taste from his mouth. He tugs the hem of your shirt upward and you break away to remove the offending garment, tossing it somewhere off the bed before Izuku begins kissing his way down your bare chest.

Your head tilts back and you let your eyes close. “Show me what you know,” you breathe. “And we’ll go from there.” You feel him grin against your sternum, where he nips a small mark into your skin before doing the same on the underside of a breast. You jump at the second nip; it didn’t hurt, but it was a sharp sensation you hadn’t been prepared for. You open your eyes and begin to say something, but your complaint dies in your throat as Izuku pulls a nipple between his teeth and rolls it against his tongue. Your eyes shut again and a quiet whimper escapes you. He matches his tongue with a hand on the opposite breast, swapping off without warning and quick enough to leave you no room to react. You can’t bring yourself to look down again, but you know he’s watching: you can feel his eyes boring into you, searching for every little twitch and whimper and cataloging it away like ticker tape. He gently bites the bud between his teeth and you finally have to relent, peering down through heavy lashes as his hand trails toward your shorts.

“I think I know what I’m doing here,” he says. He pokes a finger under the waistband and pops it against your stomach, his smile widening despite how fucking earnest he still sounds. “You’ll tell me if I can do something better, right?”

UGH. Absolute fucking bastard. “You’re pushing it,” you warn, though it’s heatless and you’re smiling around the retort. He seems to know he’s toeing the line and leans in to softly bite at your throat, which you happily accept with a quiet, high pitched yelp. You slip a hand through the curls on top of his head, and he arches his head into your palm with an appreciative groan against your collarbone. His hair is a melting point for him; one good scratching session and he’s passed out in your lap every single time. For how dense the curls are, they’re incredibly soft and slip effortlessly around your fingers like strips of dark green silk as you drag your nails across the crown of his head.

Izuku melts underneath your soft grip. For a moment he seems to forget where he’s going and any sense of what he’s doing, only aware of the nails running through his hair. Just as Izuku’s shoulders begin to slump, your fingers slowly tighten until you have a decent handful of curls wrapped around them when they begin to tug. Izuku keens into it with another groan, this one lower and guttural around his slackened jaw. “Don’t go to sleep on me,” you murmur down to him.

He grins against your sternum with half-open eyes. “Couldn’t if I wanted to,” he promises. You give the top of his head a gentle push, and he quickly gets with the program and shifts his way downward. He kisses your abdomen, then just above your navel, then just below it as he grabs the waistband of your shorts and guides them down over the swell of your hips. You let go of his hair and lift your ass to let him pull them all the way off before he throws them somewhere out of sight.

You eye his basketball shorts with disdain, lingering on the heavy tent standing up in the front. “You’re wearing too much,” you pout.

Izuku glances down to his lower half. “Later,” he replies. Without bothering to strip them off, he shoots you a grin and lowers himself with a startling quickness. You yelp, both in surprise at the sudden movement and protest at being blown off, but immediately shove the noise back into your own mouth as you slap a hand over it. He lays his chest flat to the bed in one quick shift and pins you with a wide, intense stare as he drags his tongue in a single flat stripe up the length of your slit. They part against the flat surface of his tongue and he wastes no time pressing inside you, his terrifyingly strong hands wrapped around the bend of your hips to keep you glued to his face.

A strangled moan creaks out as you writhe on the spot. For how often Izuku chokes on his own tongue in day to day life, he’s an undeniable master when he puts it to work. He’s long figured out which angles and spots made you lose your marbles, and he cycles between all of them as easy as turning a page. Your hands once again grab into his soft curls as your thighs slacken and fall away from his ears. He latches around your clit when he feels you relax, laving his tongue over it and pulling another sharp cry out of you as your legs tighten over his ears again.

He keeps you hovering there for what feels like hours. He doesn’t bother moving either of his hands, seemingly too content to press finger-shaped bruises into the valleys of your hips as you slowly fall apart in his arms. You glance downward and feel the same brick from before smash into your chest: he looks wild with tousled green curls sticking out in every direction, his wide eyes locked onto you with laser-sharp focus over the curve of your mound with the barest hint of an obscured smile just beneath. He knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing, and the devilish curl of his tongue through the wetness that has collected at your opening screams it.

“Am I doing alright?” he asks when he surfaces for air, his wet cheek pressed to your inner thigh. His breath tickles your overstimulated folds and you jump on the spot. You nod, unable to formulate a verbal response. He grins against your leg, his lips shining in the faint morning light. With the shadows pulled into sharp relief, his darkened eyes look almost bottomless as they follow your every movement. He watches you, hungry and devious in equal parts, before briefly biting into your thigh and returning to your slit.

Your back arches off the bed as you suck in a sharp breath. He lets go with one hand and traces a fingertip through your soaked folds, prepping it briefly before sliding it into you all the way to the top knuckle. You keen hard with your lower lip between your teeth. His hands are covered in calluses, the shift of just one finger inside you enough to make your brain short circuit. Despite their roughness, he curves them at the exact angle to light you up from the inside out and continues laving over your clit to keep you off center.

It works. By the time he slides a second finger inside, you’re openly moaning toward the ceiling. You glance down again, and for the first time he isn’t looking up at you. His eyes are shut and pinched with focus, his forehead free of any of the usual tension he carried there. He’s as lost as you, drowning in the same obscene noises that echo off the walls as he ruts down into the comforter through the fabric of his shorts. In an instant the intimacy of the moment punches you in the gut, ripping a loud moan out of you as your fingers grip tighter into his hair.

“M’go-” No good. Words aren’t happening. You make do with pulling him into you by the scalp, something he seems to be completely fine with as he relaxes his neck and picks up the pace with his fingers. Your breathy noises become full on wails as he pushes you closer to the edge and, with one particularly skillful twist of his wrist, shoves you over. Your thighs clamp around his head as you wail his name up toward the ceiling, your back arched high as every muscle in your body contracts at the same time. He keeps up the pace until you finally collapse like a broken marionette, falling to pieces around him as you struggle to regain your breath.

He leans his head against your thigh and hugs it to his cheek with his clean hand, his own breathing harsh and ragged. He’s flushed from the hairline down, a sharp contrast to the damp green curls that stick to his forehead. He’s obviously worked up and hasn’t stopped grinding himself down into the mattress (he might not even realize he’s doing it, with how hazy his eyes are), but he’s watching you with a wet grin as he corrects his own breathing. “You okay?” he asks again.

You roll your eyes toward the headboard behind you. “I’m pretty sure I just lost feeling in my feet for a second,” you respond between exhales. It’s hard to hold your head up, let alone form cohesive words, when your entire body feels like it’s been melted to a sticky puddle.

His eyes flicker wider, his body suddenly very still. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

You let a cackle roll out of you unabated. “Are you joking?” you ask back. “Relax, Izuku. That’s a good thing.” Your head luls back as your neck begins to protest how heavy your head is. The pillow catches it and you spend a moment just staring at the ceiling, letting the last of the aftershocks roll through you as Izuku kisses at your inner thigh.

His cheek shifts along your thigh as you regain a chunk of your composure. He’s staring up at you, his cheeks still flushed a bright pink and his lips parted. “I know how to do more,” he murmurs into the pause. A hand slips off your hip and down to his shorts, which he finally peel off and kick away without any regard for where they landed. He sits up and guides your legs back over his hips, hovering over you with his bare dick resting in the cleft of your ass. “If you want to see.”

You pick your hips up in response, giving him something to grind against as you roll into his lap. His jaw slackens in response as he takes a handful of ass on each side and squeezes, lifting you into the motion of grinding against him. His arms flex, the sharp lines of muscle he’d built up over many years standing out in bold, dark lines as he effortlessly holds your weight with just his grip. You let him take hold of your lower half and relax into the pillows under your head and shoulders, your stomach muscles pulled taut against the arch of your back. If he’s going to show off, then you can dish it right back.

He swallows hard, his eyes widening. A devilish spark dances across them as he stretches a hand down between you and presses the pad of his thumb to your still sensitive nub. You squeal in response and thrash in his grip, but he holds you steady and guides you through it as he takes his time preparing himself. When you twist and catch the head of his length for a brief swipe across your soaked entrance, you buck again and only fail in pushing him into you because he grips your hips tighter and forces you to stay in one place.

“Easy,” he soothes in a low tone. “We’ll get there. Don’t wanna hurt you.” Fuck that, if you get what you want it’s going to hurt in every good way possible, and the sooner you get started the better. You twist in his hands again, but he’s far too strong and holds you in place with obvious ease. He seems to read the tension building on your features and swipes himself through your folds just as much as he absolutely has to before pushing you down half of his length.

The sting of him pressing your walls outward is intense, almost blinding. You let out loud cries in unison, his jaw nearly falling off his face with visible effort to maintain his composure. “So tight,” he manages to growl out from behind his teeth after his jaw snaps shut. “Don’t move, please, not yet.” You obey his plea and go still in his hands, watching intently as his eyes slide shut for just a moment. He pulls himself almost all the way out of you with a slow inhale, exhaling as he thrusts in again and ending it with a sharp little noise from the bottom of his chest when your hips seat together.

Izuku isn’t an absolute monster behind the zipper, but he’s got more than enough and he absolutely knows what he’s doing with it… despite his typical oblivious act. As soon as you’re both adjusted he begins thrusting deep, using his wide planted knees as a sturdy base to bounce you off his lap with hard pops of skin. It’s rougher than it probably should be, but the burn of it is so incredible you can’t bring yourself to tell him to slow down. He watches from above, ragged breaths puffing out of him every time you thrust back against him. He hits a spot that makes your lungs freeze and he thrusts there again hard and deep, rolling against it with a drawn out groan that seems to come directly from his core. You reciprocate the with a desperate one of your own, leveraging your toes against the bed to push down against him as your eyes roll toward the back of your head.

“Beautiful,” he gasps out, his grip nearly unbearable across your ass until he lets go and you finally get some relief. “So fucking beautiful.” You moan in gratitude and let your hips relax into his palms as he guides them down so your spine is flat to the sheets again. He leans in to plant his forearms flat to the bed over your shoulders and kisses you deep. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, your arms snaking around his neck so you can reach his hair once again. He rumbles into the kiss as you find a couple handfuls of curly green locks at the back of his head and give them an experimental squeeze, his hips snapping into you in response.

Tugging his hair like a set of reins kicks him into a higher gear. As he drills you into the mattress, all hesitation abandoned, he gasps and groans into the crook of your neck without a single attempt to quiet them. A litany of praise and vulgarity mixes in with the desperate breaths, mirrored by your own calls to deities and encouragement when he finds an angle that has your legs clamping around him hard enough to hurt. “Fuckin- unh, so good,” he chokes out, his lips a mere inch from your ear. “Mine. All mine. Nn- fuck, lift up like that oh my God yes…”

He can’t seem to stop his mouth, and every word out of it is praise for you as he hovers in your face, unavoidable and stripped down to his rawest thoughts as you hold him close with both hands. “So gorgeous. So sweet. Wanna taste you every day forever.” It’s so sincere, so unfiltered and so goddamn him it makes your heart ache like it’s trying to burst in your chest as he floods you with a wave of vulnerability you’re not sure you even deserve.

You feel a coil begin to tighten behind your navel as he presses hard kisses to the front of your throat, his pace needy and focused as his words begin to slur together and mutate into simple noises from the back of his throat. “Almost there,” he warns, his voice high and tight against your skin. You nod your acknowledgment and pull him by the hair until your faces are level again, when you crush your lips together and immediately seek out his tongue. The kiss itself is more an open mouth display of tongues and obscene noises than anything intimate, both of you momentarily chasing your own release until they sync up and, with one last hard tug to his scalp, you wail his name toward the ceiling again and let your orgasm completely wreck you.

Izuku follows immediately afterward, his teeth sunk into the hill of muscle where your neck meets your shoulder, muffling the shaky moan that tore through him. He seats himself deep and rides out his own release with hard rolls of his hips, your insides lighting up hot with the load he streaks your inner walls with. You hadn’t even been aware that it was possible to go that deep, but there’s no denying it when you can literally feel where he is.

The silence that lapses is punctuated only by ragged breaths and the smack of lips pulling off each other as you both struggle to piece your brains back together. Unable to sit still you let go of his hair and skate your nails down his back, earning you a quiet groan of approval and a scar-riddled back arching up into your fingertips. “Holy shit,” he breathes to break the silence, looking down at you with a lopsided grin. “Good morning, sunshine.”

You giggle and hurriedly exhale. “Morning,” you reply airily. You reach a hand up to brush away a particularly long curl that’s stuck to his forehead. He watches your hand but doesn’t move away from it, and when the stray lock is pushed away he gently takes your hand and guides it to his lips. He opens his mouth to say something but pauses, seemingly reconsidering it and choosing to kiss your knuckles instead.

You frown at him. “What?” you ask. “You can’t make a face like that and then just leave it.”

Izuku opens his mouth again, appearing like he might argue, before he closes it again. You arch an eyebrow up at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says defenselessly with a shake of his head. “It’s hard to think.”

You give him a soft smile. “Relax. You’re okay.” You guide your tangled hands toward your face and brush your lips over his knuckles like he did to yours. “Now, what were you gonna say?”

The moment of focus seems to be enough to force a hard reset of Izuku’s brain. He blinks hard and shakes his head with a chuckle. “Sorry,” he repeats, holding his hands up again when you shoot him a dubious look. “I was gonna say that-” He pauses again and scratches idly at the back of his head. His gaze averts to the few inches of bedsheet that sit between them and it clicks - he’s getting bashful about something. Your dubious look shifts into a cheshire grin as you sit up to look him in the eye on his level. “I was gonna say- um…”

You nod to encourage him, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs around another hard swallow. “Go on,” you goad, sitting forward a little to distract him with your bare chest. It works; his gaze drifts downward and lingers for a few seconds before he snaps his focus back up to your face, his cheeks once again flushed a pale pink.

“Well…” He rubs the back of his neck and squirms on the spot. He peers around the room like he expects someone to be eavesdropping behind the dresser or something before leaning in, a hand cupped around one side of his mouth. You roll your eyes but play along and lean in closer so he can whisper in your ear:

“You’ve got a nice ass.”

Your elation flips to irritation like a lightswitch, and just as quickly you’re letting out a loud, raucous laugh. You grab a pillow from behind you and whip it in a crescent to peg him across the face with it. He takes the shot with a muffled grunt and bats the pillow down to his lap, a wide grin slapped across his face. “What? It’s true!”

“That’s not what you were gonna say and you know it,” you grouse back through a mock look of anger before poking your tongue out at him. He returns the gesture and the two of you fall into a moment of spastic laughter before coming back to reality with a chaste but tender kiss. You can forgive the leading on; he’d already communicated what remained unsaid in the bruises you can feel forming across your skin, on the teeth marks stinging at your shoulder, on the soft lips and sharp teeth you can still feel pulling at your bottom lip. You break it off and take his hand, scooting toward the edge of the bed and dragging a willing Izuku with you. “Shower, then coffee. You’re stuck with me today.”

Izuku presses the back of his free hand to his forehead as he follows you toward the bathroom door. “Oh no, whatever will I do?” he titters.

You shrug as you push the door open. “Get your dick sucked if you’re good.” You let go of his hand and enter the bathroom, a wide-eyed Izuku hot on your heels.

---

@the-angriestpineapple @deadassqueeraf @practisewhatyoupeach @cherrycolabomb

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x female reader #bnha smut #bnha lemon #bnha fluff #my fics

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cordytriestowrite · 4 years

Text

Excuses and Uses

Bucky Barnes x Reader

One Shot

Summary: Excuses were all you got from Bucky. Uses were all he wanted from you. (Aka I need a world where F&WS exists and until then I make up my own plots thanks)

"Bucky, what a surprise."

Your greeting was laced heavily with sarcasm. It was in fact not a surprise to have Bucky Barnes knocking on your door long after it was appropriate to receive visitors. You were in your sushi pajamas for Pete's sake! Despite those comically cute pieces of sashimi littering your clothing Bucky looked at least a little guilty to be standing in front if you, even if he had a not so cute arsenal of guns and knives littering his body you weren't intimidated.

"I need your help."

Rolling your eyes you turned around and left Bucky in the doorway of your studio apartment. You picked up a few pieces of scattered clothing so you wouldn't attempt to wrap your hands around his thick neck and squeeze the annoying life right out of him.

"You never come over to hang out you know. Not even to see your son!"

Bucky closed the door behind him and almost immediately Alpine was winding between his legs, rubbing and purring, happy to see his true owner. Alpine, in his snooty cat way, made sure you knew where you ranked on the totem pole despite filling his food bowl every day.

Bucky picked up the feline and buried his face into his fluffy white fur. When he spoke again his words were muffled.

"He knows I still love him. Even if I can't see him all the time."

You honestly weren't sure if he was telling you or the cat but you felt like arguing anyway.

"I have Mario Kart. It's like, your favorite game and you don't ever come over to play."

Alpine jumped from Bucky's arms as he moved further into what was designated as the living room, even if there were no walls separating the couch from your bed, refrigerator, or washing machine.

"I don't have time to play."

"Bullshit." You muttered under your breath, tossing a misplaced fork into the sink, letting the loud clang of metal on metal hide the curse. Excuses and uses were all you got from Bucky and all he wanted from you. You took a few seconds to settle down before turning to face him.

"What can I do for you Bucky?"

He was in his usual spot. Not quite in the living space, not close enough to the door to be heard by a nosey neighbor, not quite close enough to you.

"I have a lead I need you to look into."

You just didn't have the strength to keep doing this. It was late, you were tired, and honestly if Bucky wasn't going to treat you like anything more than a human search engine then you weren't interested in moving forward with this conversation.

"Go ask Sharon." You said dismissively, walking around the couch and putting more distance between you and Bucky.

"Sharon can't know about this. Sam either. You're the only one. I need you."

You ignored him. At first you there was a thrill in being Bucky's confidant, in having a secret mission just you and him, but all you ended up feeling now was lonely and more than a bit bitter. You pulled back your blankets, slid out of your slippers, and crawled into bed.

"Agent-"

Your back was turned to Bucky. You spoke loud and clear so it would get through his thick skull, because obviously your physical dismissal of him was a bit too subtle.

"I'm no longer an agent, Soldier. I quit remember? For you."

You turned over, the comforter pulled up to your chin so the parts of you that were exposed were cold and hard; your eyes and mouth set with stubborn lines of tension.

"And I have a name. Do I need to remind you of it? Goodnight."

You turned your back to him again, hitting the light switch near your head and plunging the studio into darkness. You could feel Alpine's paws gently press against your toes as he joined you.

What should have come next was a few footsteps leading away from you then the opening and closing of your front door, but instead you felt the mattress dip near your hip, then a matching weight on the other side as Bucky briefly straddled you before wedging his large, fully armed and armored body between you and the wall. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could hear him clearly utter your name. You let out a hollow laugh and hoped it hid how nervous Bucky's proximity was making you.

"So you do know it. Could've fooled me."

Bucky was quiet for a long time. That combined with his uncanny ability to keep entirely still meant you drifted off and only realized it when he spoke.

"I'm sorry. I'd love to play Mario Kart."

You smiled, blinking slow as sleep made your eyelids heavy.

"Too sleepy. In the morning." You muttered, lips barely moving to form the words.

Gentle fingers brushed through the hair at your temple, lulling you further into an unconscious state. You resurfaced at the feeling of Bucky moving over you. Your body followed him as he made his exit

"Buck, the lead."

If the cold metal palm against your cheek wasn't enough to wake you up the press of lips to your forehead would have raised you from the dead.

"It can wait."

A few footsteps, then the opening and closing of your front door and he was gone. Your thoughts stayed on him long after he left and until the thinnest strip of sunlight colored the dark sky a dusky blue-grey.

You woke up late the next day, much to Alpine's displeasure. He made sure to dig his claws deep enough to scratch your feet as he stretched and sauntered toward the corner kitchen.

"Not even my cat." You grumbled, pulling back the covers and following the small white ball of attitude. He waited impatiently for his breakfast, meowing and batting at your hand when he deemed the task was taking too long by his standards. He didn't even wait for his bowl to be moved to the floor, digging in the second you finished scraping the lumpy, wet chunks of fish and carrot out of the can.

You watched Alpine chow down without really seeing him. Your mind was back to last night and the way Bucky said your name, the way his fingers carded through your hair, the way he pressed his lips to your forehead. It all seemed so unreal, unlikely to be something that could ever happen, so you assumed your mind had made it all up. It was the only way it made sense to you.

Bucky wasn't the guy from last night, he was a super soldier with a super chip on his shoulder who happened to like Mario Kart but refused to play because God forbid he experience any joy in life. You were his pet sitter, his informant, the woman who went rogue from the new and improved S.H.I.E.L.D. the moment those big blue eyes sparkled in your general direction and just happened to steal a high tech laptop on her way out. You and Bucky Barnes weren't friends. You were just the idiot who allowed yourself to be used. You understood that now.

A knock on your door pulled you out of that head space. You shook your head and rubbed the sleep and bit of teariness from your eye before you opened the door.

It was Bucky, no longer decked out in leather and weaponry. His hair fluffy and productless, and his black and gold arm covered by a slightly baggy navy hoodie. He looked normal and that made it so odd.

"Didn't know you took days off Barnes." You greeted sarcastically, arms crossing over your sleep wrinkled sushi pajama top.

Bucky started to smile, bit his lip to hide it, then relented to a playful smirk.

"I didn't either."

You eye him skeptically before turning around and walking into your living room, bending over to pull your stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. laptop out of its hiding place between the couch and the wall. You sat down and powered it on.

"What's the name?" You asked plainly, knowing your tone was clipped with anger despite your best efforts toseem unaffected.

Bucky closed the front door behind him before bypassing his usual spot just beyond reach to sit next to you on the couch. He was close, granted it was a loveseat and the man was thick in all the best ways, but he was closer than necessary. Knee to shoulder you were connected and in the light of day at this proximity you could see flecks of grey growing at his temple. Of course he would be a silver fox, you thought.

"Mario."

You accessed the database and typed in the name.

"Got a last name?" You asked, desperately glaring at the screen as to not give in to the desire to keep looking at Bucky up close.

"Kart."

You typed in the word and hit search and Bucky was already deep in laughter before it hit you. Slamming your laptop closed you leapt up from the couch and pulled the joycons off the dock.

Alpine, finished licking his bowl clean, finally noticed Bucky and had bounded over to claim his attention. You passed Bucky a controller and plopped back down next to him, purposely tucking yourself surely into his side. You looked at him excitedly, no longer attempting to hide behind a mask of cool indifference. He was looking back with something in his eyes that made your whole body flush with a sudden warmth.

"So the lead can wait then?"

He nodded, happy expression turning a tad too serious as he searched your face.

"Thank you for always taking care of Alpine. And helping me with missions even though its dangerous. And introducing me to Mario Kart. And-"

You would have let him continue if your heart could handle it. It was pounding so hard against your sternum. And your mouth, it hurt with the intensity of your smile. Your eyes were misty again and before could think it through you planted a solid kiss to Bucky's stubbled cheek, silencing him instantly. It was as you pulled away, an apology already waiting on your tongue, that Bucky turned his head so his lips met yours.

Your lips tingled, numb from elation and nerves. It was a firm and warm and chaste and, while totally unexpected, perfect kiss. So maybe Bucky was the guy laying in your bed last night, maybe he was also kind of an ass who forgot that life wasn't always about the mission. People can be multidimensional!

Alpine, realizing he wasn't the center of Bucky's world at the moment, stretched up on his hind legs to swat a tiny paw against your joined lips. You separated with laughter, giving Alpine scratches behind the ears while he purred in contentment. You couldn't be upset when Bucky picked up his controller instead of kissing you again, seeing his easy smile and bright eyes was enough.

"So, Rainbow Road?"

"Oh, I'll kick your ass Barnes!"

Alpine was a great ally in distracting Bucky from beating you to the finish line and kissing was a great weapon both of you wielded excessively to the point the game was long forgotten in favor of making out on the couch.

Before Bucky departed later that evening, after an entire afternoon with no talk about a mission or a lead and without any brooding or far away gazes, you wondered if it was too good to be true. He had to feel the change in your posture when he asked between open mouth kisses against your neck.

"Take a look into that lead for me?"

You pulled away, your glare intense.

"Just tell me if you're just using me. With Alpine, intel, or now being your fuck buddy, whatever. I don't want excuses, Bucky. I don't want to be lied to."

Bucky didn't have to have to open his mouth to say anything, his eyes so expressive in initial surprise, then anger so great it tightened the muscle in his jaw, his expression settled into a somber determination and when he opened his mouth you wished you had never said anything and just enjoyed the attention.

"No excuses. I'm not good at...I spent so long being used I don't think I know…"

You wrapped your arms around Bucky. It was awkward with your position on the couch and how broad his shoulders were but it seemed important to just hold him. He held you back in strong and solid arms you weren't sure you would ever be held by again. You had your cheek pressed against his shoulder and eyes steadfast on the coffee table as you took a deep breath and tried not to cry. If this was a hug of comfort you weren't sure who was supposed to be feeling comforted. To you it felt like a hug goodbye, because no way could you keep doing this.

"Figure it out, okay."

Bucky left not long after, untangling from you while keeping his head down, scooping up Alpine on his way out.

You thought that was going to be it from him. You didn't expect Bucky to recover from decades of abuse anytime soon so you went on with your life. Sharon stopped by to collect the stolen laptop, promising no one would know where it snuck off to in the last few months. You stayed home a lot, willfully ignoring the reason you stayed home every night was in case Bucky stopped by. You bought new pajamas with little white kittens on them, then promptly shipped them back after opening the box.

You finally got off your ass and got a new job. Private and slightly sketchy, but confirmed by Sharon it wasn't the world dominating kind of sketchy, the job was right in your comfort zone. Bright and early you were dressed and ready to head out for your first day of work and when you opened the door you almost ran into the wall of metal and muscle that is Bucky Barnes.

"Bucky? And Alpine!"

A small white head poked sleepily out of Bucky's worn leather jacket. Alpine yawned before meowing up at Bucky who instinctively stroked a few fingers between his ears.

"Sharon said you were starting your new job today and I-we, me and Alpine, wanted to come wish you luck."

You tried not to frown, not wanting to give the wrong impression, so you turned around and locked your door at a deliberately slow pace. Had he been keeping tabs on you or was it just some small talk with Sharon? By the time you turned back around you couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

Bucky, short hair combed neatly, leather riding jacket zipped up to hold his kitten securely to his chest, hands gloved, jeans dark. He looked cool and confident until you looked into his eyes and saw how out of his depth he really was.

"Walk me to work?"

Bucky nodded, shoulders sagging in what seemed to be relief. You spent the walk catching up and laughing. It felt like Bucky and you had finally reached a friendship that wasn't based on how you could be benefit to him.

Until Bucky moved in for a goodbye hug while you leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then it was more like a two idiots fiercely making out in front of one of those idiots new place of employment until the receptionist asked you to move the show somewhere else. But the two idiots agreed to talk later over a game of Mario Kart.

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