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#took two hours to stop shaking from exertion
hussyknee · 10 months
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my disabled ass, after (1)good day: "obviously I am cured. in fact it may have all been in my head. who can say? now to rejoin society!"
me, the next day: "it has come to my attention that i may be chronically ill."
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castieltrash1 · 9 months
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Not sure if you’re still taking Gosling sleepover requests but if so...
How Noah would comfort you, and/or how Driver would fantasise about you 👀
i combined your first req with another ask and wrote how noah calhoun would comfort you here!
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driver x gn!reader; smut, masturbation, kind of stalker vibes, voyeurism, marking/hickeys/bites/etc, mentions of oral
He fights past the haze of your presence long enough to make it to his apartment, letting out a sigh of relief once the door locks behind him with a distinct click. His hands have an uncharacteristic twitch to them as he rips his right glove off, calloused fingertips tugging desperately at the zipper on his jeans. Six seconds. That’s how long it took to go from the lobby to the second floor, where you lived. One word. All you’d said was “two,” pointing at the respective button in the elevator, unaware that he was already reaching for it; that the lines between what he’d learned about you and the information you knowingly offered had begun to blur.
As he steadies himself, padding over to the couch, he thinks of the first time he saw you up close. Not just in passing, holding a door open, or shifting past you to get his mail. He’d been scoping out the man who lived beneath him, Mr. 305, whose unruly attitude made his already odd hours even more restless. But, instead of finding whoever made his floor shake in the early hours of the morning, he’d found you already pounding on the man’s door, muttering under your breath about the pounding on your ceiling. 
All that kept you apart was one floor, one annoying tenant he couldn’t risk being the reason you moved out. The noise stopped eventually when the man broke his lease without explanation, and the sleepless nights he caused became a distant memory. 
Now, you were the thing keeping him up. His insomniac tendencies of restless legs and periodic nightmares devolved into something greater, an unshakeable arousal that turned to vivid wet dreams the second he let rest overtake him. He was waking up drenched in sweat more times than not, plagued with the thought of your smile, the way your lips curled, and what they’d look like wrapped around his cock instead.
The sight is something he can imagine if he tries hard enough, but the sensation is harder to create. He frees his cock with his bare hand but wraps his gloved palm around it to start. The leather creates a delicious friction that’s almost too uncomfortable to bear, but the foreign feeling bolsters the dissonance between his mind and body, allowing him to believe it’s your touch instead. Still, you’d be gentler, he thinks, coaxing out his orgasm with timid patience. 
Normally, he’s great at waiting -- five minutes, at least -- but not in times like these. When he’s alone, all he knows is hard and fast. Without a partner to focus on or enjoy it with, his arousal becomes more of a hassle, something he needs to get past quickly. You’ve taught him restraint, whether you know it or not. Instead of rough strokes, he gently squeezes up the length of his cock, leather warming against his blood-rushed skin.
A low gasp leaves his lips, your name tumbling out right after. The image of you that flashes in front of his eyes makes him dizzy. You’ve been pushed to your limit, bare and flushed with the exertion of his passion. Its evidence covers you; hickeys, bites, spit, and cum creating a mismatched pattern across your body. The best part is the lustful gaze you give him, lids heavy but still hungry for more.
There’s greater definition in his fantasies now, in the last few days, then before. Your body was something he could never recreate perfectly, no matter his attempts. He needed a visual, just once. A single glimpse would last a lifetime.
It took a few nights, but you finally gave him one.
Parked covertly under your second-floor window, he watched in awe as you undressed after a long day. If it hadn’t been for his own selfish desires, he would’ve told you to get better blinds - or to at least remember to close them before you changed. But, he hadn’t, sitting silently and mentally recording every sliver of exposed skin he could catch. He didn’t touch himself either, not allowing a single distraction to pull his attention from you.
And, even though you retreated to the bathroom before your underwear came off, it was enough. It’s enough now, pulling him over the edge in one fell swoop.
As his release drips down kidskin knuckles, he wonders if you wanted him to watch, and if, next time, you’d let him touch you instead.
gosling sleepover sunday (no longer taking requests!)
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nethhiri · 3 months
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Marooned: Chapter 2
Pairing: Kid x FemReader x Killer
Warnings: nudity, vague medicine
Missed Chapter 1?
Red Menace
It took the better part of an hour to drag your new friend to the spring and another good chunk of time to tug him out of his clothes. Wet clothes were a pain in the ass to deal with in the first place, but this guy seemed to be wearing everything in a size too small, which made it worse. The clothes were now laid out in the sun, post-rinse in the spring. After exerting yourself, you felt your stomach cramp. Well... I can't do anything on an empty stomach. Fishing around in your pile of goodies, you felt the strap of the goggles you had found. Shrugging, you threw them over your head. They thumped against your chest, too big to stay on top of your head. Fishing around some more, you found one of the jars. Cracking it open, you gave Blondie a brief once-over to triage the situation. You gave the jar's contents a cautionary sniff. Oh! Spiced peaches. What a treat! Slurping back a few slices straight from the jar, you put your hand on your hip and contemplated the next step. You wiped your mouth on your shoulder before kneeling down.
Luckily, most of Blondie's injuries seemed shallow, but there was a gash in his thigh and he definitely had a head laceration. Idly, you hoped that he didn't have a skull fracture under that lac. The guy had barely twitched or made any indication he was alive. A quick look at his pupils and a cursory cranial groping gave you some relief that it was just a flesh wound. Pressing your knuckles against his sternum and rubbing earned you a grimace and a groan from him. "Hey... there you are, pal. That's great." You patted his chest. There was a sound of tearing fabric as you sacrificed a piece of your shirt to make a rag. Being in saltwater for however long definitely helped keep the wounds clean but the sand from the beach and the dirt that you may or may not have dragged him through were not exactly infection prevention. It didn't take long to clean away the dried blood and grime. Actually, it seemed like he was in better shape than you initially thought, just the two main injuries and a series of random scrapes and bruises. He probably did lose a good bit of blood though, hence his current state. 
You hummed to yourself, pleased with the progress. It was strange. This feeling of giddiness. Certainly, it was because of this shake-up in your miserable island life, but it was an unfamiliar feeling nonetheless. Honestly, you didn't remember the last time you felt even a sliver of hope. How sad. It was a bit preemptive to get excited about anything. What if no one was coming for him? What if they were but they didn't want to help you? What if he died? What if he lived and murdered her? He can fucking try. That made you laugh a little. But you supposed that was really what hope was about in the first place, the potential that something good could happen. At the very least, you could be stuck here together. Maybe he was friendly. He's sure not bad to look at.
With your good eye, you appraised your work. Unfortunately, you didn't have any supplies to properly stitch Blondie up and the rag tied around his wound would have to work until you could make a trip to snag your kit. "Fantastic news, Mini. My memory has been refreshed in the dicknballs department," you mumbled, draping a leaf over him to protect his dignity. "Can you watch him for a minute while I get my things?" You looked expectantly towards a mound of brush. "Come on. Stop ignoring me. I know you're there." Sighing, "Look, I will share my peaches with you. I'm sorry I ate your melon." You stood up to leave. Mini was fairly reliable, except when you made her mad. She would probably still do what you asked this time since she was most likely just as curious about the island's newest inhabitant. His clothes will probably be dry once I get him patched up too. 
It took a little too long for you to notice that the birds had gotten quiet. You were already at a disadvantage, having only one eye, and you could never use observation haki, not to mention you had been fairly pre-occupied. There was a pressure against your throat that dragged you backwards. Your hands reflexively tried to pry the...the goggles? away from your neck. What the fuck? 
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM? KILLER."
The words deafened you. At the same time, the wind was knocked out of you and your feet were no longer touching the ground. Wood scratched the back of your legs. The tightness around your neck increased. Your vision probably would have been doubled for a second if it was physically possible. A few seconds went by before you realized your situation. An ogre held you by the neck against a tree. 
"ARE YOU DEAF? I ASKED A QUESTION."
"If I was deaf, how would I hear you a second time?" You rasped. You may not be used to being happy or giddy, but fighting and being a total asshole was second nature. "I'm- not- a killer." It was the truth in this instance only. It was a mistake to only have one hand on you. He probably didn't expect it. The balls were everyone's disarming go-to. You kicked him as hard as you could straight in the throat. He held you high enough that it was an easy target. Instantly, you hit the floor and assumed a fighting position, removing the goggles around your neck so he couldn't get you however he got you in the first place. 
He was on his hands and knees coughing. Not an ogre, but a sopping wet beast. He must have washed up in a separate place and moved before I got around to it. For the first time, you took in the man before you. You'd seen hundreds of wanted posters. "Oh, what the fuck? You're Eustass 'Captain' Kid." Which means... "Killer"... Blondie is Massacre Soldier Killer. 
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quinloki · 7 months
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Kinktober 2023 - Day 6
Let's get a little ... Phera-moan-al.
Character: Trafalgar Law Reader: omega/fem Warnings: A/B/O/Omegaverse, arbitrary classification of other Heart Pirate crew members, mentions of classic ABO things like Pheromones, heat, ruts, etc. 18+
Summary: You're out of suppressants in the middle of the damned ocean and Law is losing his mind. -:- 1773 words
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Con-Scent-sual
Law threw the pen across the room in frustration, balling up his fists as he slams them down on his desk. He couldn’t concentrate, and it wasn’t his fault, the crew’s fault, or anyone’s fault really. It was basic biology, and a slip of unexpected poor planning on his part.
You had a heat, you and Bepo and Penguin all had heats, and you all had suppressants for them. For Bepo it was a matter of the mink’s continued comfort – no one else on the ship was enough of a mink to react to his scent. You and Penguin were, technically, a risk, but one that could be mitigated and it was worth it.
You were both effective crewmates and solid fighters. Neither of you really had anywhere else to go either, but that was irrelevant.
The risk of your heats had also been further mitigated when you’d both decided on an alpha to bond with. Penguin had chosen Ikkaku, and you’d chosen Law. So now there were only two people on the ship who would be affected by your heats.
The suppressants just hadn’t been as effective for you this current cycle. You’d gone through too many and they were too far from another port, so you’d been effectively quarantined. However, being quarantined on a submarine was turning out to be useless, and no one except Law was acutely aware of how useless.
He stepped out of his office with the intent of going to find you when Penguin and Shachi both stopped him.
“Captain!” Shachi exclaims as they both stop Law bodily.
“I told you!” Penguin nearly growls. “If I can smell (Y/N) it’s gotta be everywhere.”
“Step aside.” Law says. There’s a command in his tone, and it’s surprisingly steady.
“It’s only going to make it worse.” Penguin asserts. “You have to go back into-.”
“Room.” Law says and the two swear just as their Captain disappears.
You’re in the room on the far end of the Polar Tang, as far from everyone else as you could physically hope to be. Ventilation in the Tang was a complicated process, but carbon dioxide scrubbers kept things breathable for longer than they would be otherwise. Unfortunately, there wasn’t such a thing as pheromone scrubbers.
You’d burned through your suppressants like they were candy and had been getting progressively worse for the last few hours. The suppressants had barely kept you to a point where you weren’t actively suffering from how painfully you wanted your alpha. You’d never had such a powerful heat before, and of course your body would decide to test it’s limits when you had no escape.
Covered in sweat, shaking from the need twisting through your body, you weren’t surprised to see the door open.
Law was standing in the doorway, almost still as a statue. It took you a second to realize it was him, and you shuffled away from the door backing against the far wall.
“You can’t… be here.” You manage quietly. “It’s t-too much.”
“…You’re suffering.”
“I’ll survive.”
“I can feel what you’re going through!” He barks, and you know the control he’s exerting to stay in the doorway and not just stomp into the room. “I knew there was going to be a connection when we bonded, but this – it’s driving me mad and it’s like I’m feeling it through water.”
“I’ll… survive.” You assert. Your skin is fire hot, and sweat is trailing down your arms and back, you can feel the slick of your desire thick between your thighs, and the feel of your pajamas is almost like needles against your sensitive skin. “It’s… just a matter of… time.”
“I don’t want you to just survive.” He growls, hands clenched tight. “I can ease your suffering.”
“I… could get pregnant.” You say it in a small voice. You’re not against it, not wholly, but not right now. There’s too much on the horizon, if you end up pregnant, he’ll leave you somewhere. Understandably, and for your safety, but you don’t want that.
“If you’re not ready yet, I won’t let it happen.” He says, golden eyes almost on fire. You can feel them moving over your body as he does finally take a step inside. “With my devil fruit it’s an easy matter.”
“… The crew.”
“They’re already bringing us up.” He assures you, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off. You can see the tension in his body, muscles taut and his usually smooth movements are a little rough. He pulls off his boots, one, then the other, setting them down by the door as he closes it slowly.
“Say it.” The command is for you to speak, but what you say is your own choice.
“… Please.” You nearly whimper. “I feel like I’m burning alive, Law, help me.”
“Of course, little snow drop.” He responds, reaching out to you. His hands are almost cold compared to how warm you feel, but it’s a relief. Relief, not just that he’s touching you, but that he’s cooler than you are. Hands on your ankles pull you, stretching you out on the bed you had balled yourself up on, sprawling you out on your back.
You gasp, and only move to help him as he pulls your pants off, and then your top. You can feel him trying to hold back, trying to move slower than he wants to. If he gave into the urges gripping him he would’ve likely just torn your clothes off in shreds.
“You’re always beautiful, but this is… something else.” He says hoarsely. You never slept with one another during your heats or his ruts. It was safer, to maintain distance, to enjoy one another when you were in control of yourselves. Decisions should never be made when one’s mind is hazy with strong emotion, be it anger, pleasure, or anything else.
“I’m sorry,” He says, taking his jeans off even as he climbs into the bed. “I don’t think I can give you the consideration you deserve.”
You shake your head. “I’m soaked head t-ta’ toe,” you manage a weak smile as you open your legs for him. “Please.”
“As you command.” The words fall from him like flakes of snow as he grabs your legs and pulls you to him, bringing your hips up his thighs. You squeak a little, but the surprised sound turns into a moan as he thrusts deep inside you. There was no easing in, no slow, sweet stretch that filled your heart more than your body.
This was a single movement, and you were dripping with need so much that there wasn’t a hint of pain. You two fit well together, and your legs and toes curled around him, pulling you deeper against him as he took a moment. You were soaked, but you were tight and hot and he almost worried you’d melt him into nothing before he could give you the relief you needed.
Small moans bubbled about in your chest, but you were too tired. All the pleasure you felt was weighed down by the prolonged exhaustion of fighting your own heat for so many hours already.
A roll of his hips shifts you. Sweaty skin glistens in the soft light of the room, the scent of your need was thick in the air, but his desire was filling your senses already. As much as you had overpowered him and brought him here, he was already taking control again.
Tattooed hands slip over your body, pressing into your skin firmly, sending pin pricks of pleasure through you. Another roll, a little faster, a little longer, savoring what he can for the moment he has available to him. He does it again, calloused fingers finding rock hard nipples, rolling them with practiced movements as he bucks almost harshly, ripping a nearly orgasmic sound from you, the layers of pleasure more than you had expected.
The sound was all he seemed to need and he leaned over you, hips slapping into your thighs as your legs bounced in the air. Your hands were on his arms, bracing as best you could as he pushed you deeper and deeper into the mattress.
Breath was pushed from you as pleasure was pushed into you. There was little you could see but bright golden eyes. Little else you could feel but the rough bliss of your lover buried inside you and seemingly trying to go even deeper than the laws of physics would allow.
Your first orgasm came without warning, your exhausted body was awash in pleasure and suddenly taut with bliss. Your fingers dug into Law’s arms, but he didn’t stop, filling you up for the first time that night and continuing his thrusts into your still needy body.
The scent of his orgasm filled your senses and invigorated you. Quiet, exhausted moans of pleasure, become more vocal, your fingers relaxing enough to wrap around his shoulders, your legs crossing against his waist. He urged you to hold onto him as he sank into you, lips finding yours for a sweet moment before they traveled over every inch of skin they could reach.
The scent of his desire mixed with the scent of his exertion, sweat matting his hair to his face. Those golden eyes stayed focused on you, watching intently. He took in every detail he could, trying to push you over the edge again and again until your heat was spent, without wearing himself out unnecessarily.
The series of scratches on his back was the only lingering sign of your desperation as shaky fingers slipped down his sweat-slicked arms, the last twitching flutters of pleasure twisting your exhausted body under him. It had taken over an hour before your body’s own desires calmed. You don’t even know how many times you had cried out his name, or how many times he had filled you up.
He finally slips out of you, a soft moan escaping you both at the sensation. You could feel the flood of froth and seed leak out of you, and the cold air against sweat-soaked skin. You know this has thrown the schedule of the day off, the Tang would need to submerge again before continuing on, and you two had been intertwined in one another for at least an hour, if not longer. There’d been nothing the rest of the crew could do except stay on the deck and wait it out.
“Sorry,” you manage quietly, and he kisses your forehead.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He assures you. “It’s my job to look out for you when this sort of thing happens.”
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marvelthottie · 1 year
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Floating
pairing: Steven Grant x Black Reader
rating: explicit(18+ mdni)
summary: You like seeing Steven absolutely weak for you.
warnings: Unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, substeven, overstimulation, edging, kind of subdrop
You felt horrible but when you watch a tear or two slip from Steven’s eyes as he is overcome with pleasure when he comes it turns you feral. You like watching him lose control, almost in a dream state, loose at your mercy. You were a lot of Steven’s first, first to give him a blowjob and even the one to take his virginity. So it always amazes you how easy it is to take Steven down and make him yours. He was always eager to please and try new things, so when you asked to tie him to the headboard he couldn’t help but to say yes.
You edged him for a hour, tugging you in your hand to sucking his dick, watching as he whimpered helplessly. Despite being so close, sweaty and twitchy, dick red and aching, he was so good and didn’t cum.
“Steven, my sweet boy, you’re so good for me.” You wore a black lace two piece set, with a matching garter belt and thigh highs to match. Your knotless braids was tied back, out of your face as you crawled up the bed to him. Your body covering his, you laid kisses up his chest, neck, stopping right before kissing him on the lips.
“You’re such a good boy Steven.”
To which he gave an answering moan.
“Do you want me to stop my teasing baby”
“Please love” He sobbed, “ I need you, I’m aching for you.” His dick twitched from
his own words.
You took him in your hands lining him up with your pussy, sinking down slowly, as he shook against you. Your pussy squelched, juices flooding around Steven, as you sighed taking adjusting in his lap. His hands fisted in the cuffs that were attached to the head board, gasping out your name. You lifted, sinking on him repeating, once, twice, on your third, you watched his eyes roll back, body frozen.
“Oh love”, he groaned out, suddenly shaking, as you felt him cum inside you, hips pumping draining himself inside of you.
You smirked, feeling how he stayed hard, you love when you broke Steven, bringing him to the edge and watching him struggle to stay afloat.
“You with me baby?” You asked,kissing him on the neck leaving little love bites along his chest.
“Yes—“ he drawled out, head lolling to the side, smiling.
You released the cuffs on him, never unsheathing yourself, you laid his hands upon your hips.
“Well it’s my turn now baby.” And with that,you rested you hands against his chest again, rising slightly on your feet.
You rode Steven, chasing you own orgasm, moaning and scratching at his chest. You loved him like this at your mercy willing to do anything to satisfy you.
“Steven, baby,” you cried out as he weakly thrusted up into you, your downward thrust meets his.
He whimpered, maybe the overstimulation was getting to him, but he pushed through, rubbing your hips moaning your name.
“Steven, fuck”, your back arched, slamming down on him one last time, shaking from exertion and pleasure. You climbed off of him, you both meeting in the middle of his bed, kissing, smiling, drained.
He was puddy in your arms, curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat.
“I love you” Steven said against your lips,
“I love you more”, you replied.
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airi-p4 · 4 months
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Marinette fluttered through the thick falling snow in a near panic. It helped hide her, but also made finding her target that much harder. The streets of Paris were all but empty tonight. The storm had been going for hours and everyone smart was hunkered down to wait it out. A particularly large flake bopped her in the face, sending her spiraling almost into a drift. Being a fairy had its ups and downs sometimes. Marinette shook herself and fluttered up again. The beat of her wings was loud in her ears, her breath made little puffs from the exertion. Her cheeks were frozen but she wouldn't stop her search until... "Luka!" She spotted him trudging, hands in pockets, through knee deep snow. His collar was up and his head down. He was very much not wearing the scarf she had made for him. Seeing it hanging on the back of of chair had been what made her venture out. She sped directly into his chest, hugging as much of his snow-soaked jacket as her arms could reach. "M-m-m-mari-nette?"
He raised a hand to touch her, and it felt colder than the falling snow! She darted up in front of his face. "Luka, you're going to freeze!"
"N-n-nah, I'm f-fine. Just had to c-c-close the shop."
She fretted, "Where is your bicycle?"
He shifted his footing in the softpack. "C-c-couldn't ride, in s-snow." She was vibrating with concern. She caught hold of his upturned collar and started to pull. "Come on, I'll help!" Luka took two more lunging steps through the snow before stopping again. He brought his hands up and blew into them. His voice had dropped to barely a whisper. "J-just let me... warm... up"
He started shaking again, even as he blew. It was worse than before. Marinette let go of his collar, struggled with herself over a thought, then dove into his collar, wriggling her way in against his chest under his jacket. Instantly the fact that she was this close to Luka hit her. She felt her temperature spike, but she fought it. She recited patterns, needle sizes, yarn types, color shades, anything she could think of that would fill up her head. It worked, her heat leveled off. She felt a tough through the fabric of her little Luka-cave. "Marinette?"
Her wings fluttered fitfully against him, trapped as they were. "Am I helping, Luka?"
The touch moved along her back through the jacket, feather light. "You are." Even his voice sounded warm.
Luka resumed his trek, one crunching step at a time. Marinette held on, daring to burrow in a little, and kept thoughts of knitting flowing through her mind. Soon it became hard to think though. As Luka walked he began to hum. The vibrations in his chest lulled her, but she held on. She wanted him to be warm. She wanted him to be safe. She wanted... Marinette woke up with a start. She blinked into a candlelit gloom. She was under a blanket, no, stuck carefully in a mitten. She was back on the Liberty. Luka! Her wings buzzed as she fluttered them free, she had to- "I'm here Mari," Luka's soft voice reached her.
Marinette turned her head and there he was, sitting at the desk she was laid on, his chin on his arms. He had a blanket over his shoulders and a steaming mug on the table beside him. As she settled back into her mitten-bed he smiled at her.
"Glad you're up. I was worried you'd used up too much heat helping me. Here."He scooted a tiny thimble across the desk, then used a dropper to transfer a tiny potion of his cocoa to it for her.
Marinette reached for it, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Sharing a drink with Luka! She lifted the oversized mug and took a sip, letting the revitalizing sweetness fill her up. She hadn't even realized how much her heat had dimmed. when she'd finished she realized Luka was still watching her, chin on arms again. She half-hid behind the thimble in embarrassment. A merry spark lit his eyes in response. "Thank you, Marinette."
A thank you, sharing a drink, snuggling under his jacket, being tucked into bed; all of it made her want to burst into flames again, but she knew, even with that risk that one thing was true. She looked up into those ocean blue eyes, "I'd do it again for you, anytime."
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH
I'M GOING TO CRYYYYY 😭😭😭
THIS IS SO PRECIOUS OMGGGG
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Spoilers/impressions under the cut (bc it's LONG):
The way she's searching for him desperately in the middle of the snow and the storm (she's so worried... cutie... ;v;)
The snowflake falling on her tiny face (HOW ADORABLE!!)
The relief when she founds him AAAAAH
"WHY IS HE NOT WEARING THE SCARF I MADE FOR HIM!?" *angry puffy cheeks*
Luka freezing in the snow and unable to ride his bicycle because of the snow (poor him 🥺)
MARINETTE'S TINY HUG TO GIVE HIM WARMTH!!! 🥺😭💙
Marinette trying to control her magic but giving it all for Luka's sake and Luka taking care of her when they're back at the Liberty... I ADORE how they take care of each other- THEY'RE SO PRECIOUS 🥺
The MITTEN-BED!! SOFT!! SWEET!!! ;v;
THE WARM COCOA and the thimble-cup!!! 🥺 *Off-topic but tbh, I've been struggling a lot thinking about recipients Marinette could drink from before and since I couldn't decide on one I avoided drawing it ^^; This thimble-cup is a lovely idea I'll have to consider now (even if Luka giving her drinks with a tea spoon is still my favorite option atm)*
SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH- THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH- MY HEARTTTTT- 😭💙
I feel so warm now. My heart is warm... (;v;)
AKSDJNAJSNDASD -I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!
Thank you so much for writing this!! I ABSOLUTELY ADORE it!! 💙
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acerathia · 8 months
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two birds || Act III
Summary:
Hanahaki: A disease stemming from bottling up romantic feelings, as these decide to grow inside the lungs and the blood system of the sick person, resulting in flowers. Thus the first symptoms are the coughing up of flower petals accompanied by pain and breathlessness, as the flower continues to grow as long as the affected does not confess their feelings. Alternatively, the growing flower can be removed via surgery, but it may affect the ill person’s ability to feel love in various forms. Or How do you react with falling in love with no real chance? Simple, a tragedy in five acts.
Wordcount: 2.5k
Read on AO3 || Masterlist
Pairing:
Obito Uchiha / Reader
Tags/CW:
features of a tragedy, hanahaki disease, childhood friends, some degree of isolation, No War AU,
Note:
Please note that I choose to not tag some stuff, as it contains heavy spoilers, proceed with caution and with the knowledge that everything is either connected to the tragedy aspect, or the hanahaki disease itself. i forgot, oops
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Scene I. – YOU, feverish pillows, the marks of the days in old, where the prediction came true
The scene: Your home, the suffocating air filling your lungs, scratching your insides
The cough wracking your body has gotten worse overnight, even though the rest of your body doesn’t exhibit any symptoms of a cold, no fever, no chills, no headache. Just this immeasurable pain deep in your chest with each inhale, with each exhale. And every exertion leads to a paralyzing coughing fit. So you decide to stay home for the day, sending a message to the Hokage, even if he probably already anticipated that.
After sending the bird on its way, you settle in your living room, after picking a book from the shelf. One of your favorites. Your best friend had given you this edition as a birthday present, and since then it had been your prized possession. Everytime you read this book, you could also read his little comments on the side, his thoughts forever between your hands. And maybe you should’ve realized earlier how much he means to you, how much you cherish everything he ever gave you. Not that your reaction would have been any different, his feelings for Rin unwavering for years to count.
Another coughing fit grabs you, shakes you, You hack and rasp, trying to lodge whatever has gotten stuck in your throat out. After coughing for eternity, and yet only for minutes or seconds, the itch stops, something smooth gliding over your tongue. Carefully you stick your tongue out to grab it with your fingers. A petal. From a flower. And you turn it between your fingers, sticky, yet brilliant, wondering where it came from. You don’t remember swallowing a flower, much less a petal. But it certainly stems from your insides, the itch gone the moment it emerged.
Because you significantly feel better, you decide to visit the library. It surely has some books containing this issue. Because as much as you hope this is the only petal ever, it’s highly unlikely, your breath still heavy, full.
Still, getting rid of that one petal made you well enough for a walk to the library without losing breath. For some reason you don’t ask at the desk, rather you just make your way between the shelves, looking for the medicine section, anything related to that, as you’re assuming it’s some kind of flu.
Grabbing some books you sit down on a table and page through them, careful to not miss anything. Every time you finish a stack of books, you return them to their place to get more.
It took you a couple of hours to finally find something describing your weird cough.
Hanahaki: A disease stemming from bottling up romantic feelings, as these decide to grow inside the lungs and the blood system of the sick person, resulting in flowers. Thus the first symptoms are the coughing up of flower petals accompanied by pain and breathlessness, as the flower continues to grow as long as the affected does not confess their feelings. Alternatively, the growing flower can be removed via surgery, but it may affect the ill person’s ability to feel love in various forms.
You keep rereading that passage, words not quite registering in your brain. But once they do, you know what you’re supposed to do. What is expected of you. But you simply refuse these two options. How could you lose your love? What is the world without love? And it’s out of the question to just confess, as this would ruin whatever friendship you had been building for all these years. So that means…
Before you could even finish the thought, you notice a shadow lurking over your shoulder, and you continue to the next page of the book, acting like you’re just browsing in this thick encyclopedia of medicine. And appropriately you flinch when that person puts their hand on your shoulders, whipping around with a gasp. The exclamation fitting for the environment, yet expressive enough. You should be feeling bad for this act, but you don’t, it’s simple etiquette, play along.
The moment you lock eyes with Obito, you grin, and that’s barely an act, only the slight modification of it, a hiding game; how much could you conceal before anyone notices anything to be wrong?
You shut the book with a soft thud, putting it on top of the stack, allowing the book to hide between his brethren. Meanwhile, he had taken a seat opposite of you, leaning back in the too-small chair. A bright smile etched across his features, and you have to stop yourself from getting lost in them, rather focussing on a spot on his face.
You place your chin in your hand, resting on the table. “So, did you do it? Did you ask her out?” A knowing grin accompanies your question, the answer as clear as the window glass, as the sunlight shining on his dark hair, illuminating him like a halo.
Almost a thing of the impossible, his face brightens up, eyes squinting, yet sparkling with the enigmas of the universe. He nods. His shoulders shake with hidden laughter, happiness daring to spill over. Only the library silence keeps a hold of the bubbling excitement.
His breathy giggles underline his whispers. Telling you, explaining, detailing how it went. How he took her on a stroll, aimlessly walking through the market, or so she thought, until he led her to a small meadow of flowers, comparing her to the prettiest ones, pouring his heart into her hands, hope filling the emptiness. And that hope erupted into flames the moment she reciprocated his feelings; an exchange of hearts, a silent promise spoken outloud.
A kind of happiness you never could’ve given him, even if these words weren’t rotting on his tongue. This is something you have to keep to yourself, if only to keep the sun shine inside his eyes, to hear the bells inside his laughter.
And this knowledge alone makes your throat grate, this sight alone makes your heart cramp. A sight you’re undeserving to witness, as you’re not the one granting him this blessing. Never a blessing. The words you’ve been keeping inside are nothing but a curse, to you, to him, to the relationship between you. It makes everything rot. That’s why you have to keep it inside you, no matter what happens, you’re burying it deep in your lungs.
Despite your inner turmoil you grin, smile and coo at his behaviour, his giddiness contagious, filling you with a small amount of happiness, glad to see him thrive, to see him fulfil his wishes all on his own. And this spark flares the guilt up, because how selfish of you to think about your own predicament, about your own feelings, when your best friend is sharing the good news with you, all sunshine and breeze, galaxies filling his hopeful eyes, the future, their future as bright as the stars.
So you push them further down, promising to never utter a word, to never form a single thought in his presence. This way you could fully relish in his company, bathe in it, and simply concede.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were so kitschy,” you tease and stick your tongue out in mock disgust. And you barely dodge as he leans in to flick you against the forehead.
His hand immediately retracts and ends up pinching your cheek, pulling slightly. You turn your head to bite him and he retracts his hand to keep his fingers safe.
“What else was I supposed to do? Someone refused to give me proper help…” he puffs and crosses his arms, muscles moving underneath that black material, stretching, telling you how they flex and move.
You clear your throat, before doing the motions of retching. “And why should I? That’s none of my business. Please, don’t tell me you want to consult me about your se-”
He had jumped forward, chair screeching against the floor as he hurries to push his hand against your mouth, muffling your next words, the redness of his neck spreading to his ears.
With a grin you don’t try to bite him this time, rather you just lick his palm, pressed against your lips, callouses against your skin, and he pulls it back, disgust etching itself on his features, and betrayal. And he tries to get rid of the spit by scrubbing his hand against the material of your shirt. A giggle escapes you as you deflect his hand, standing up to gain more room to move.
But before you both could actually start anything, the librarian stepped closer, yanking you both by the hand to stop you. Her harsh glare is more than a simple request, more like a warning. So you both hide your head between your shoulders and tiptoe out of the building, her eyes burning your backs all the way out.
Once a couple of steps away from the library, you can’t help but burst into a laughing fit. And he joins you soon after that. And for a moment there’s nothing but your laughter and the sun above your head. No heartache, no flowers, only you two in giddy misery.
And you wish desperately for it to never end. But every good thing must perish, wether by its own hands or by the choking fingers of someone else. Your fate must be a mix of them both, as before you could invite him to any activity with you, he already seems to have spotted something he liked, as he begins to walk away, barely a glance your way. And you don’t think anything by it, following him without questions, only slightly stumbling as you see the object of his desire.
Of course. And you get yanked back, the leash around your neck reminding you of your place. Never by his side, only behind, in her shadows, catching the bouquet and nothing else. Despite that reminder, you don’t change your attitude towards any of them, why should you? They don’t deserve pain, only because you decide to keep your misery inside of you, to tend to it like a flower, crawling up your spine.
You immediately pounce on Rin, grabbing her arm. “Rin! He got us kicked out of the library,” you whine with an exaggerated pout, well-aware he can’t defend himself or he would risk your rather risqué conversation being brought up.
That’s why he stammers, mouth falling open and shutting again, before adopting a tiny pout himself and shooting daggers your way. And you send him a sly grin before sticking your tongue out and walking with Rin to wherever the way is leading you. He immediately sticks to her other side, acting sneaky when he takes her hand in his, fingers carefully placed between each other.
You tear your gaze away, trying to ignore the caving in your chest, the way your body craves the same softness and carefulness, the silent touches. You swallow the grating in your throat, before marching in front of them, as you have reached the market, marvelling over the new produce and even buying a shiny red apple. As usual Obito asks you to buy him one too, but as usual you refuse, claiming you don’t want to spend any money on him.
“I’m not your sugar mommy, wahh–” He cuts you off by trying to snatch the apple out of your hand, and you barely manage to dodge him. You know holding the apple into the air won’t do any good, so you begin to back off, moving as unpredictable as possible, calculating your chances to escape and deciding on a high possibility. That is until your back bumped against a wall, and your movements restricted suddenly.
Despite that you continue to dodge his grabs, keeping the apple out of his reach. But you didn’t expect him to grab your arms, holding them to just bite into the fruit, taking a rather big bite.
“What are you doing? This is disgusting,” you sneer, a scandalized expression forming on your face.
He lets go of you, making a peace sign while munching with a grin. And you just throw the fruit at his face, it hitting his forehead with a strong sound.
“Damn, that resounded. I guess your skull is empty after all,” you remark with a snort. Your sneer softens a bit when seeing his pout as he’s rubbing his hurt forehead. It gives you the urge to pinch his cheeks, but you refrain. It’s not the same after all. So you only bump into his shoulder as you walk past. And you can’t help but cough into your palm once you took a couple of steps away, the itch growing stronger with each minute. But it doesn’t feel like you’re gonna cough something up yet, so you try to alleviate the grating with a cough, a cool drink from one of the stalls.
“Hey! That was mean, I just wanted to have some,” he complains against your back, as he walks back to a giggly Rin, having watched the scene with amusement. Both of them join you for a cool drink, the juice colorful under the rays of the sun, and cooling of course, soothing your burning insides with a single sip.
While you’re taking a gulp every time you even feel a tickle at the back of your throat, you watch as the two tried each others drinks, a silent conversation flowing between them. And you’re no idiot, even if you like to act like one, you know when you’re supposed to be leaving, when your presence is undesirable, even if words try to deny it.
So you allow the itch to catch up to you, sending you a coughing fit as a present. “Oh, I think I’m gonna be sick… Sorry, but I need to go home and lay down,” you rasp, holding your hand to your forehead, grimacing with the pain flaring between your ribs, even if because of different reasons than they might think.
Rin offers to heal you, to help you, but you refuse, too scared she might discover the real reason behind your ailment. You reason with her, why should she use her chakra for something that can be fixed easily with a good night’s sleep? And maybe you lightheartetly threaten to refuse anything she might offer in the future, before she caves in and just hugs you tightly, explaining the ideal ways to get rid of a cold.
Your best friend is propping his hands on his hips, on the verge of scolding you about going out in the first place if you’re sick, but you pout a bit and open your arms, making grabbing movements to ask for a hug. He just sighs and envelops you. His arms tight around you, and stop yourself from pressing yourself closer than a hug need, even if you wish you could bury yourself between his arms, in his neck. But you do nothing of the sort, rather you break the hug on your own volitions, already craving his warmth.
With a wave you begin your walk home. As soon as you know you’re out of their radius, you keel over, your lungs turning inside out, retching and hacking. This time you don’t even make an effort to pick the petals from the ground, letting them rot outside like they’re doing inside.
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stab-the-son-of-a · 2 years
Text
No Good Very Bad Terrible Days
No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack
Tagging @whumpster-dumpster as this prompt knocked me out of a slump, and @verkja, because they were right- I lied. Apparently we’re seeing more of this crew. 
CW: The POV character has a very lackadaisical view on skipping meals that may be triggering to those with an ED. 
Before even opening his eyes Auxentius Fleck knew it would be a bad day. His grandmother used to say she could feel it in her bones, and of course as a snakelet he had taken it literally and spent a few years convinced his nana could predict the future in some way. But nope. Just the fact that barometric changes were not friendly to old bones. Auxentius tasted the air and shook his head in distaste. It even tasted cold out. 
He wasn’t old, not really, but boy did he still feel the snow coming in. Unfurling, he raised up his torso and steadfastly ignored the spasming of his obliques, his dorsi muscles… Auxentius gave up on trying to determine how many and which parts of his back were screaming at him to curl up and find a nice warm place to wait out his misery. 
Persica had asked him to show up, and while he could never accurately tell her feelings about him (he always assumed somewhere between icy and lukewarm), he did want to help her. So, out of bed he dragged himself. 
His stomach cramped as he downed a couple pills. Yes, yes, he knew taking something for the pain on an empty stomach was a poor choice but frankly both options would have left him nauseated, so really it was the lesser of two evils. He reminded himself of this as he slithered out the door to visit the dryad healer herself. 
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Persica wanted a manual laborer, apparently. Just extra muscle around the place to try to complete the winterization of her garden and keep her home from letting in snow and ice. A necessary practice in these parts, one he’d yet to acclimate to even years after moving here. He tried to feign enthusiasm. He failed. 
“Before the frost sets in, I need you to turn the soil,” Persica said, holding the hoe out to him. Her nose twitched and scrunched in distaste. “I know it’s a difficult concept for you, but certain things need to be done whether we want to or not.”
Today, Auxentius determined her tolerance of him was at an all time low. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate, maybe an all time recent low. 
“The entire field?” Auxentius asked to confirm as he took the hoe. It was heavier than he expected it to be and he nearly dropped the head to the ground. Fumbling slightly, he adjusted his hold on it between his four hands. 
“No, Fleck, I want you to stop midway through. Of course I want the whole thing done! Are you going to be a help or a hindrance?”
Auxentius offered a too cheery smile instead of allowing her to see he was so easily insulted by a few heated words. “Ideally the former.” 
With that, he set to work. 
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What back breaking work it was though. The spasms tightened around his chest and cut his breathing into an uneven staccato. Though it was still cold, bitterly cold, the sun overhead and the exertion conspired to overheat him. Planting the hoe in the soil, he leaned against it and glanced back at what he’d accomplished. 
It looked like he’d made no progress, not anything worth comparison to what waited ahead of him. 
Briefly, he glanced forward, toward Persica’s dwelling. It looked like a typical dryad home, especially as she layered the external walls with insulating moss and enchanted the windows. Her back was to him for the moment and he let his head drop to stare at his lower set of hands. 
They were blistered and rubbed raw already. They trembled minutely, unable to keep steady. For a moment he considered whether it was the heat or his empty stomach or the pain, or some combination of all of the above, but then he clenched his hands into fists and set back to work. 
There were still many hours left of sunlight, after all. 
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“Here.”
Auxentius yanked his head over his shoulder. Fire lanced up his neck, following a trail along the strained tendon there, but still, he tilted his head in confusion slightly. 
“Fleck.” Persica huffed her impatience and rattled the glass. The ice inside clinked and the condensation dripped from her fingers to the soil. He followed it with his eyes before jerking his attention back to her eyes. 
“Oh.” He reached out for it. “Thanks.”
She pulled it back out of reach. A pang of frustration pricked his eyes. “Come inside. I made sandwiches too.”
“Oh,” he repeated, feeling even dumber than he usually did around Persica. 
She nodded and turned to lead him back inside. For a moment Auxentius hesitated and glanced around for a good place to leave the gardening tool. He was struck by the progress he’d made — only to be struck harder by the fact there was still so much more to go. The garden seemed to extend miles out in either direction. He knew surely it couldn’t, but it surely felt it. Caving, he left the hoe where he stood and followed her inside. 
Her home felt like walking into a freezer. After the bitter heat outside, the bitter cold inside had him tensing up immediately. His jaw ached as he clenched it, unable to relax the muscles there, and an immediate headache formed at his temples and squeezed.
“Take a seat. You still eat turkey right?”
Wordlessly, Auxentius wrapped his tail around the legs of the stool and hid a grimace as the stiffness of his tail kept him from getting a good grip. After a second, he braced his lower arms on the table and offered something like a smile at her back. 
“I- do. Yes. Turkey is good. I’m surprised you remembered. I didn’t think you cared for it—”
“I don’t,” she cut him off as she placed his plate before him. “Arms off the table. Scamp likes turkey. That's all.”
At least they had Scamp in common. Auxentius obligingly removed his arms from the table and pulled the glass closer to him. He held it tightly and stared at the contents. 
“Lemonade?” he asked. He didn’t look up at her but briefly. 
“When have you ever known me to come near anything lemon?”
“Scamp likes lemonade.”
This time he did meet her gaze. Steadily. He stuck his tongue into the liquid before she finally broke away to look out the window overlooking the garden. “You’re only halfway through,” she noted. 
The sour taste of the drink suddenly became even more sour. He set it back down on the table. His grip tightened further. The liquid inside rippled with his tremoring hands. He wondered if he would shatter the glass, but then again she’d probably enchanted her glassware not to break long ago. 
“How is Scamp?” Auxentius asked her before she could continue on about how she should have known he wouldn’t be able to finish, that she could have gotten someone more competent. With a faint tremor in his fingers and an unmistakable shaking in his bicep, he raised the drink back to his mouth and took a sip. 
Persica glared, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. “They’re adjusting. Again.”
“And the wound?”
“Stitched. In all regards.”
Her answers became short and clipped. As Auxentius opened his mouth to ask another question, she bite heartily into her sandwich. That was as sound a dismissal of the conversation as any. He turned his attention to his own plate. 
A rolling ball of bile settled uneasily in his stomach. He picked apart the edges of the sandwich between sips of lemonade. He’d eat once he got home for the night. At this point he was fairly certain even if he could bring the sandwich to his mouth without losing the innards, the nausea would only get worse. 
At least the drink had a tartness to it that woke up the sleepiest, fatigued parts of his mind, the ones that had slipped under the haze of monotonous work. 
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At sundown, he still hadn’t finished, but he was nearly there. His breathing had long since passed anything he could pretend was normal and veered right into ragged, strained territory. Every muscle in his body screamed displeasure and shook with the exertion he’d forced himself through. With a frustrated hiss, he only just barely kept from slamming the tool against the side of Persica’s house. 
“Will you come tomorrow?” she asked before he could turn to leave. 
Auxentius panted and shook his head. “I want to talk to Scamp tomorrow.”
“They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Fine. Sure. I assume there’s more to be done than the garden.”
“Always.”
Turning his back to her, he shook his head again and waved a hand over his shoulder. Both sets of arms burned. The muscles in his back felt ready to split apart from his spine. 
“And thanks.”
He stopped short. With a sigh he turned back to face her. “Always,” he returned the refrain, and she rewarded him with a slight smile. 
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Auxentius couldn’t sleep. He whimpered and tried to massage the cramps in his back and tail and arms but he couldn’t reach each of the hard knots of tense muscle. Burrowing his face in his pillow he bit down harshly on it as the pain spiked. Muscles further tightening impossibly, he arched and groaned, his skeleton little more than a plaything for the cramps. Slowly, inch by inch, he dragged himself toward the pill bottle he’d left on the counter. 
Panting through tightly clenched teeth, he grabbed the edge of the countertop with one left hand, the edge of the sink with his upper right, and pushed off the floor with his other hands. Semi upright now, he bore all his weight onto one arm and flailed his right hand over the counter. His fingers brushed the cap, then the sides of the bottle, and then he knocked it over and rolled it off the edge. It fell to the ground and so did he, all air driven from his lungs as he sobbed breathlessly. 
He fumbled with the container of pills. His hands couldn’t grip the lid properly. In his shaking grasp, the pills inside rattled against each other and taunted him. 
So close. So far. He gave up for the moment with his back pressed against the cabinet and his tail twitching and jerking without his conscious input. 
After a second to catch his breath, Auxentius resumed his efforts. His hands slipped over the edge of the cap again and again. The raw flesh of his palms, blistered from working with the hoe, stung as the plastic dug into it. 
He was so damned useless he couldn’t even do this right. His lower hands continued to work the bottle as he pressed one hand into his eye sockets, as if he could crush his headache through his skull. 
His determination upon waking had been right. Today was a bad day.
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the-frozen-pheonix · 1 year
Note
“-👕” Couldn't resist xD
send me “-👕” to catch my muse without a shirt on
It was later in the eve-sun still out primarily because of how close the warmer time of year was. The sky’s crimson beckoned those still out to soon go in for the eve.
FFSHWEEee
The winds flow brought relief to those hot from their day out, and warmth to those cold from their days in.
Swit-Swiswit
Students making way to their dorms tweeted mimicry at the more tame avian life that nestled in the trees along their path.
Skkshhhzzzzzzzz
Grilling, and the smell of exotic meats wafted about the air in some places-the spices giving way to mouth watering delight.
shhkkrrr..ssshhhkkrr
Amongst all the sounds though, there was something low.
skriskri
Barely audible. Faint as a fly.
Crk…CricK…CRICK
Though as one drew closer
Gsh-Gsh-Gsh
The sound grew louder.
Indeed, if one were to imagine what glaciers disconnected from the earth fighting one another sounded like-it would be as noisy and violent a sound and sight as one could think. Inside a training center was a blonde, the source of the noises. His concentration and focus, absolute-as all manner of frozen hell was let loose. He’d been here for hours. He hadn’t stopped. It was obvious. Lord only knows when the sun had set. How long it’d been since the noises had ceased. Lord only knows how long others had been watching him. Or other-as there was only two people in the larger open space at the moment.
And suddenly-the crashing and smashing of man against ice has ended. The room covered in ice, a porcelain pale blonde with scars all over and blues as light as the ocean shaking as his muscles refused to obey him anymore. Shaking in pain and cold, he would fall to his knees. The blur of the blizzard and snow has ceased-calm weather was upon this gym once again. The closer one got-the better one could see.
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He was reddening slowly-and exhausted. Eyes blurred and out of focus. What was on his mind? Where was mind? It obviously wasn’t back yet- though his body was-as it hadn’t turned red and raw in his control over the frost storm. Slowly, his body would shake more, as he seemed to warm up. Slowly. He was panting harshly as well. Allowing weakness after so much strength exerted.
Then he’d notice her. First his ears would perk-then the shaking would be taken control of. His breathing would soften-his obvious signs of pain and exhaustion would fade until finally his eyes returned with his mind. He would look up-as if not caught in a full break of the body and mind after pushing himself to his solitary limits, while being observed doing so.
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His head would turn, but he’d jumped the gun. His smile wasn’t there. Still the honest frown of necessary stoicism he kept under the usual happy facade. “s-s-s-s…. s-s-ssss-“ his words failed him too-the shuddering of his jaw stuttering his words. With an audible clank of the teeth, he breathed in, and successfully asked “Suoh?” Very softly. It took a moment to register everything. His eyes went distant. As he controlled his breathing.
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A small smile, then he turned to the redhead next to him. He’d gotten the happy for her. Apparently whatever she’d seen the beginning of wasn’t something she’d been meant to see. Not something anyone was. “I can see my breathe now.” The honest happiness in the simple little sign of his body heat coming back-meant to cover up the genuine collapse she’d just seen the beginning of. It was safe to say he couldn’t successfully play simple minded around her again… “can you see yours?”
Lord wasn’t the only one who knew something now.
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saltydumplings · 2 years
Text
Snippet #6
Apparently something had fallen from the sky just outside the city limits. The people living around that area were spooked and the hero had been called out to investigate, begrudgingly trekking about the woods - searching for God knows what - on what was supposed to be their day off. Needless to say, this wasn't exactly in their range of expertise. The hero was used to fighting criminals, not plants damnit.
They had been searching for about two hours now with no luck, just starting to reach a more dense patch of trees when they found it: a broken branch. It was hanging down from above, barely clinging on to where it had once been firmly rooted. The hero paused and looked about, soon finding another and another when looking to the left of it - the damage telling of a clear flightpath downwards.
Finally.
They followed the trail quickly, observing as the branches that were broken got lower and lower the more they pressed on, and they began to find large feathers too - white ones so soft and beautiful; their sheen in the small cracks of light that passed through the woods' leaves seeming almost golden. The hero wanted to start collecting them - picking up several at once to inspect when--
A noise sounded from somewhere ahead. The hero paused, crouching down low and listening intently, the sound of twigs breaking and leaves being rustled violently, like there was some immense struggle against nature happening. It would come in and out intermittently, stopping for a few seconds before starting up again, and in the intervals the hero could have sworn they could hear...crying. Whoever or whatever was ahead of them was hurt.
The hero's protective instincts kicked in immediately, making their way forward with more haste until the ground suddenly sloped downwards, at which point they were forced to stop - not only because of the incline but what they saw beyond it.
Wings. White wings, massive in size, each one taller than the hero twice over. But something was wrong. One of them was pointed up at a strange angle whilst the other seemed unresponsive, limp as it lay on the ground - white feathers starting to go brown from the dirt. It took the hero a second to see the net that they were caught in, so enraptured by the sight they hardly noticed the string of rope that had tangled in the one tree, forcing the right wing to stay outstretched.
Five seconds later and they registered that beneath that mass of feathers there was a person...and the hero knew them.
They crept forward cautiously, making their way down the slope before edging closer, their presence remaining unknown until they came to speak.
"Villain?"
The other startled, face no longer buried in their hands but now turned in the hero's direction, eyes red and cheeks sore from crying but they glared the other down nonetheless. For a second nothing happened, but then suddenly the wings started to move - flapping wildly in a desperate attempt of escape; the right wing fought against the rope that ensnared it whilst the left seemed to struggle to even lift itself from the ground.
"Villain! Villain calm down!" the hero said in a panic, raising their hands in a manner that they hoped the other would register as peaceful.
The villain only managed to raise themself up a few feet before falling back down again, an angry cry leaving their throat as they hit the ground and their wing remained caught - their body coated in sweat and shaking from exertion. Still they stared the hero down.
"L-Leave me alone," they said. It was meant to come out sharp and menacing but their voice shook, body trembling with every breath.
The hero stepped forward tentatively. "I'm not going to hurt you--"
"Aren't you? For all I know this was your doing!" the villain spat.
Their wings flapped again, the hero having to shield their eyes as dirt and leaves were thrown about by the flurry of movement.
"Villain, I - I didn't even know that you..." The hero trailed off, their hand coming back down to their side as the villain paused, allowing the hero's gaze to wander to their wings. "How long?" they asked.
The villain simply huffed, turning away a little. "That's none of your business."
The hero inched forward a little more, eyes still entranced by the sight.
"They're beautiful..." the hero said, wanting to reach out and touch them but too afraid of scaring the other into another panic to do so.
A pause.
The villain turned back to them then, eyes shining with fresh tears as soon as the words were said - expression no longer angry or afraid but composed of pure, devastating grief.
"They're broken," the villain croaked.
And with that they started to cry once more.
Part 2
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seijorhi · 3 years
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Pretty Young Thing
A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!
Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada
TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw
“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”
“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”
“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”
Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand. 
Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”
He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.
And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.
“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.
Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare
Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic
Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave
Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip
Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer
There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected. 
Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby. 
Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?
There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–
“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”
He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.
Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.
A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.
But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.
“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”
It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.
And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.
Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?
Yeah. You were cute. 
The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’. 
‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”
He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.
Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind. 
You were just so young.
But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency. 
Hizashi was not, and so here they are. 
Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness. 
You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you. 
“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”
“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd. 
And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.
There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–
“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”
You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”
– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks. 
And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.
“So she’s our baby mama, huh?
He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”
The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them. 
Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent. 
Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.
How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?
Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.
Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :( 
Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!
… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?
His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him. 
Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?
He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself. 
Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm? 
Well, that made three of you.
Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.
“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”
It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy. 
What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.
So he messaged you.
Do you want us there with you?
He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.
No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys
It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it. 
At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off. 
“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”
He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.
It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him. 
“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.
He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.
It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.
Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.
Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.
Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.
You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would. 
It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.
This was your neighbourhood?
Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?
Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.
He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.
“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”
He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either. 
“I–”
“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.” 
The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”
You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.
Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.
“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.” 
The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause. 
“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face. 
The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight. 
It bothers him. 
“She’s not safe there.”
Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”
As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no. 
Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.
“Fine. Just for tonight.”
Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant. 
In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.
How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.
They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.
Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?” 
He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.
“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.
Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.
After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.
There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”
On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.
Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.
The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.
It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.
Mostly. 
Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.
“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”
You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”
He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump. 
“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”
Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless. 
“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach. 
It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?
Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”
“But, hun, what about–”
“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”
Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.
Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run –  and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick. 
Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace. 
It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be. 
“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”
Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least. 
“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”
He should be, but this works better.
It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.
Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.
They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.
All of that’s true. 
It’s just not the entire reason. 
At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length. 
You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong. 
Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.
You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.
“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.
You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them. 
Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.
“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”
“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”
He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.
You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with. 
It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.
Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.
And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.
He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side. 
It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust. 
You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch. 
Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?
“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”
It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more. 
He wants all of you. 
Wants to tease and taste.
Take.
Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.
And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–
If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.
He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.
There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.
“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.
They have time.
Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them. 
There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.
That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.
Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder. 
Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.
“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.
Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.
“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”
If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”
“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”
You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”
Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”
It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own. 
You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.
They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too? 
Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them. 
He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.
They need to be shown.
You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open. 
Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”
Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.
“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”
You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.
Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–
Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you. 
You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.
“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.
Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.
Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.
The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.
Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.
Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.
“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”
Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.
Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”
Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.
Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.
His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.
“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”
He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–
But now’s not the time for him to be greedy. 
Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–
You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.
You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue. 
“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants. 
Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.
Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss. 
But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.
“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”
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lila-skies · 2 years
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20:53
it's a yearly tradition now: shinichiro closing his shop early every 31st of october to celebrate halloween and give out candies to the children. together with the black dragons founding members, you exert the effort to dress up every year. tonight, you are rapunzel because emma and senju who are cinderella and belle respectively said so.
"that's the last kid," you announce after the boy walked away, looking back at the guys. "we are out of candies already."
"hah, thank goodness." wakasa helps to remove the head of the bear mascot, revealing a sweating benkei. "it's very hot. i'm not doing that again."
benkei wore a bear mascot for tonight because he lost a bet against the three. takeomi, the classic ghost face, while wakasa is howl pendragon; and since you are rapunzel, shinichiro, your boyfriend, is obviously flynn rider
"there were a lot of kids tonight," takeomi says, a lit cigarette between his lips.
"compared to last year, yeah," shinichiro responds, lighting his own cigarette. for the first time in five hours, it's his first one because you chewed him out. "i don't even know most of the kids that came."
"i mean, that's much better." remembering last year's happenings, you only shake your head with a chuckle. "at least your siblings will not fight for their lives to have the remaining candies."
"remember when manjiro had his ass handed to him by senju?" takeomi laughs at what wakasa said and says 'yeah, 'course that's my 'lil sister.'
last year, only the neighborhood kids came, that's why there were a lot of candies left. kids are kids. the four of them were competing with each other, something about who received more treats. manjiro happened to find the candies shinichiro hid just when he was already losing, but senju caught him and the rest is history.
"who do you think got more candies tonight?" you ask shinichiro, walking hand in hand with him. the two of you are on the way to pick the kids up in the baji household.
"emma, probably," he answers. "she's a natural charmer."
"oh, by the way. i got a chocolate from the last boy earlier!"
"you did?"
"yeah, it's this one. looks imported, though," you show him the now empty wrapper. "it tastes sweet, i like it."
that little boy was adorable. after you handed him the treats, he took five from his pumpkin and gave them to you while telling you "because rapunzel worked hard today!"
"do you have more?" shinichiro asks, glancing at you. "i want to taste it, too."
"no, it's only one." you lift your dress a little, trying to get a different candy in the pocket of your shorts. "but you can have this—"
before you could even finish, shinichiro's lips were already on yours. you stand frozen when you felt his tongue inside your mouth like he's actually trying to taste the chocolate you are eating. the next thing you know, the chocolate is already gone but not because it melted.
you feel heat rise to your cheeks, and shinichiro only cracks a smile at your reaction. a proud one at that. shinichiro sticks out his tongue, flaunting the chocolate he stole inside your mouth.
"you are right. it does taste sweet."
"shin!" you shriek, getting more embarrassed and flushed by the minute. "what if someone saw?!"
"i doubt someone did. it's already la—"
"shinichiro, you are a pervert! what are you doing to her?!"
suddenly, a voice the both of you are familiar with came from behind you, causing the two of you to flinch in your places. your boyfriend stares at you, mouth open, as if he's about to be taken away by a grim reaper.
the said grim reaper is no other than manjiro.
"get away from her, shin-nii!" emma shouts, her arms crossed while glaring at her brother.
"wait!" shinichiro raises both of his hands as manjiro continues to stride over his direction. "let me explain!"
manjiro didn't and chased shinichiro. while you and emma held each other's hands and followed behind them, cackling at how desperate shinichiro looked trying to make manjiro stop.
well maybe, it was actually a good thing that there was only one chocolate left.
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ah yes, the horimiya candy kiss. i feel like my writing got so rusty so i'm sorry about that ;____;
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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years
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A Birthday Gift
Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem-Reader
Word Count: 5665 (I know, I know)
Summary:  The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.
Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of consensual violence, SMUT! PORN! 18+!
A/N: Hello my fellow hoes and sluts! My birthday is today and it has me in some kind of mood, so I hunkered down and blasted out this fic. @stargazingfangirl18​‘s lovely Tree Trimming fic has my holes quivering for some hot Nomad sex, so please sit back and enjoy my birthday present to all of you!
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You had always hated your birthday.
Fortunately, Nat was completely willing to take your mind off it with a good sparring match. The snow was falling heavy outside of the large windows on the side of the gym, but the minor exertion was keeping you pleasantly warm. You’d been on the mat for almost an hour, but you still couldn’t seem to get your mind to focus.
Of course, it didn’t help when Rogers came in, glowering, to work the bags, giving you a wary look before he settled into his routine.
Nat and the rest of the team had been with you for almost 3 months now. When she had called you after the events in Berlin, to arrange a potential safehouse for her and her compatriots, you of course offered to have them join you at your isolated lodge on the Snæfellsnes peninsula. You were as off the grid as they come, and with the help of your Wakandan friends, still able to provide the modern creature comforts you were sure they had become accustomed to at the Avengers compound.
You had missed Nat, after all. It had been almost 7 years since you last saw her, but the grin she gave you when they landed in the early Autumn made it seem like she’d never left. You got to know everyone else over the months as well. Sam and you bonded quickly after you introduced him to Aquavit and spent the next 2 days helping him slowly move back to solid foods. Vision of course took everything that happened in stride, and while you couldn’t say you were friends, you had developed a mutual respect for each other. Wanda took longer to warm up (understandable after everything she had been through) but when you told her about the time you had spent in Sokovia, she quickly came out of her shell, and the two of you would often stay up through the night reminiscing about your homes. Even Barnes had softened once he got a look at your weapons room and you took it out to the Fjord to test out some next gen tech Shuri had sent you.
The only problem was Rogers.
No matter what you tried, it seemed that every time you got near him his hackles went up. You could feel him watching you constantly, and whenever you met his gaze, he would simply clench his jaw and stalk off like a cat.
“He’s just overprotective.” Nat always said. “He’s a big papa bear protecting his cubs. He’ll warm up.”
You snapped back to the present as Vis and Wanda wandered into the gym chatting idly. She had convinced him to join her out in the snow for a brisk hike, and was now laughing lightly as she brushed a dusting of soft flakes off his shoulders. Bucky was working his way down from the weights level, patting his neck dry with a towel. You heard the pounding on the bags stop, and glanced over to see Rogers unwrapping his hands as he stared at you, but this time he didn’t break eye contact when you met his gaze.
Those deep blue eyes disarmed you, and you lost your concentration for a split second. Nat seized her opportunity and crawled up your back, wrapping he legs around your neck and shoulders to try to get you into a submissive position. You tried to regain your composure, but your instincts kicked in for just a moment, and when you drove yourself back into the mat to break her hold, you landed quite a bit harder than you intended and thought you heard a snap as she gasped out in pain.
“Shit, Nat you good?” You scrambled onto your knees and looked at your friend with concern. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers striding over, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Vis and Wanda stopped their conversation to glance over and Bucky moved quickly to intercept his best friend with a hand on his chest.
Nat broke the tension with a laugh, and everyone in the room relaxed. “God, Y/N, guess you’re still an aggro bitch. I though I might’ve had you for once.”
“Jesus, Nat. I’m sorry, lemme grab you some ice. Anything broken?”
“Don’t think so, just a bruised ego. Look at you, you haven’t even broken a sweat.”
You tossed a pack to her from the freezer, along with her typical post spar electrolyte drink. She gave you a wink as she pressed the pack to her ribs, and you could only shake your head at her.
“Steve, you wanna take over for me?” She said to the large man who was now leaning against one of the windows, only half listening as Barnes tried to distract him, while glaring at you.
You both snapped your heads around to stare at her and started protesting over each other while she grinned back and forth between you.
“That’s probably not a great idea…”
“Don’t want to hurt her…”
“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous. Y/N, you obviously still have to work out your birthday issues, and Steve, you’ve been complaining for the past 3 weeks that me and Buck are getting too predictable.”
“Y/N, it’s your birthday? We should bake you a cake!” Wanda exclaimed, always the little ray of sunshine.
“That’s ok Wand, please don’t.”
“Should we perhaps sing?” Vision was now adding his two cents to the discussion.
“No singing. Thank you, so much, for that, Nat.”
“She’s right Rogers, you’ve been looking pretty bored during our sessions, change of pace might be good for you.”
While you were eternally grateful to Bucky for getting the topic off of your birthday, you really didn’t think Rogers was going to go for this.
“Fine, we’ll give it a shot.”
You looked at him with surprise, but gave a shrug and nodded. You definitely still needed something to take your mind off the day. You loved Nat, but always felt the need to hold back during your sessions, and it might be nice to take the safety off.
Nat looked like the cat that ate the canary for some unknown reason, as she giggled and clapped her hands before setting down onto one of the stools to observe. Bucky looked relieved as he leaned back against the wall, chugging the contents of his water bottle. Wanda and Vis went back to their flirty conversation, content to let you two do your own thing.
You unzipped your hoody and threw it to the side, stretching your neck and bouncing on the balls of your feet to loosen up. Rogers looked you over, eyes lingering over your tattoos that you realized he’d never seen since most of them were easily covered by a long sleeve shirt. He pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, and you had a hard time not taking a second to appreciate just how good his torso looked in a simple grey tee.
“Jesus, you two, just get to it.”
The look you shot Nat was pure poison. You weren’t sure what her game was, but you’d be sure to break out the vodka later tonight and get it out of her.
You squared up with the captain, keeping a loose stance on the balls of your feet while he brought up his fists and shrugged his shoulders.
His first strike seemed sluggish, and you slapped it aside easily, frowning at him. He shuffled forward, throwing a few more jabs that you also dodged. Was he holding back on you?
The next few shots he tried to take all but confirmed it; he was pulling his punches. You ducked around them easily, starting to get frustrated. You stepped inside his reach and delivered three quick strikes to his abdomen, followed by an open-handed push to the center of his chest, causing him to take two steps backwards.
His eyes narrowed at you. He was just hoping to get Nat and Buck off his back. Nat had been trying to get him to interact with you for months, but there was something about you that set off warning bells in his head. He trusted Nat and Nat trusted you, which should have been good enough, but he couldn’t get over the thought that there was something dangerous about you that he couldn’t figure out. He’d hoped that a quick spar would appease Nat and get whatever was bugging him about you out of his system, but he had expected you to be on Nat’s level of physicality. The contemptuous way you slapped his blows aside, and the way you got under his guard fast, only made him more wary.
You saw him adjust his stance and tucked in his arms, and gave him a small smirk as you stepped back and raised your fists again.
He moved forward quickly this time, throwing a quick combo of punches aimed at your head and torso and trying to get his arms around you for a hold. You still dodged his strikes easily and when he tried to put you in a hold, you delivered a swift knee to the juncture of his waist on his left side, dancing back again.
His long hair had fallen into is eyes at this point, and when he straightened back up, the look of appraisal he gave was laced with frustration.
Your breathing was still even and relaxed, and Nat had been right, you hadn’t broken a sweat at all in the past 45 minutes. You loosely rolled one tattooed shoulder and gave him a grin, practically begging him to try again.
He clenched his jaw and rushed you. You kept dodging his blows or batting them aside but when he brought his foot around suddenly you moved a little too slow and felt it glance off your cheekbone. He took advantage of your brief surprise and moved behind you whip fast, wrapping one arm around your neck as he braced the other around your right shoulder and he tried to force you to the ground. You sprung your legs off the mat, raising them above your waist before swinging them back down as you got your left hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his tee, then used your momentum to fling him over your shoulders and toss him 15 feet across the room.
He shot up fast and turned back to with a look of complete shock on his face as he crouched into a protective stance. He stared at you like that for a beat before clenching his jaw and straightening up, rolling his head to right.
You followed his line of sight, perplexed. Bucky had jolted off of the wall and looked ready for a fight, flicking his gaze between you and Rogers. Wanda was staring at you with surprise, but was still relaxed. Vis looked at everyone around the room in confusion, trying to understand where the sudden tension had come from. The only person who seemed unfazed by what happened was Nat, all doe eyed innocence as she sipped her drink, not making eye contact with you or Rogers.
Poor Sam chose this moment to wander in. “Hey, Y/N, I heard it’s your b-day. You ready for me to drink you under… What happened?”
“Fuck’s sake Nat, you didn’t tell them.” You hissed at her.
“It didn’t really seem important, Y/N. Besides, it’s your secret.”
“Not a secret Nat. Jesus.”
“Someone want to tell me what the fuck I missed?” Sam was still flicking his gaze around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.
“Y/N just threw Steve across the room like a ragdoll.” Bucky said.
“Oh, word? Interesting.” Sam said.
“Someone want to explain this situation to me, slowly?” Rogers was looking murderously between you and Nat, and you honestly could have killed her yourself.
“Oh, did everyone not know about Y/N’s brain implants?”
All of you looked at Vision when he piped up, and he got a grin on his face like he had just solved an especially difficult puzzle.
“Baby, I think it’s safe to say only you and Nat knew.” Wanda whispered to him.
“But wasn’t that why we came here? Y/N has been hiding from multiple governments for years and her expertise has been very helpful in shielding us from both the United Nations and Stark industries.”
“Yeah, honey, just assume that you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.” Wanda said exasperatedly.
“Oh, well then, Y/N was part of an experimental program run by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD during the 1990s where adolescents received brain implants designed by Dr. Emil Zola to increase sensory perception, decrease pain receptors, and specifically, maximize the efficiency of fast twitch muscle fibers via the phosphagen system, allowing use of these muscles for longer periods of time without negative effects. This was of course after multiple failed trials with a new super soldier serum.
“The program’s graduates were deployed at the beginning of the second Gulf War, purportedly to hunt terrorists, but were also used as HYDRA’s own assassination squad in the eastern hemisphere. The program was discontinued at the end of 2007 and it was thought that all the graduates were culled, but Y/N simply disappeared on mission at the Wakandan border. I admit, I was a bit surprised when she greeted us as she’s presumed dead by most intelligence agencies, but I thought her history was the reason we chose this location. Did I miss anything?” Vis looked at you with genuine interest.
“No that’s pretty much it, thanks.” You said flatly, running a hand over your face.
“See, not that big of a deal.” Nat shrugged.
“Well, Vis and I are going to head to bed.” Wanda chirped up, looking nervously between you, Nat, and the two super soldiers who were now staring at you again. She ushered Vision out of the room quickly and shushed him as he tried to ask if he had done something wrong.
“You really didn’t think this is something I might have wanted to know Nat?” Steve had now turned his attention back to your friend, murder written all over his face.
“No, Steve. Like I said, this is Y/N’s business and it changes literally nothing about how much I trust her. I can’t help it that you got your panties in a bunch over some perceived threat when I told you over and over again that I would willingly put my life in her hands in any situation.”
“You should have told them Nat.” You shook your head at her. She was still playing some sort of game, you could tell, but you didn’t know what.
“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you wanted the drama, or to have Barnes look at you like some little lost lamb.”
“Aw geez, Buck, stop looking at me like that or I’m going to punch you. I’m fine.”
“Ahm, sorry.” Bucky’s look of overwhelming sympathy would have been heartbreaking if it had been directed at anybody but you, and you really couldn’t handle that right now. “I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”
“Thanks, Barnes.”
“Besides, you and Steve are both in desperate need of a good fuck, and I thought an impromptu discovery like this would give you the push you need.”
And there it was.
“Well, I’m going to have to make it a rain check on those birthday drinks Y/N, look at the time, it’s… 6 PM. Let’s go Barnes.” Sam was now looking everywhere except at you and Rogers as he did his best to drag Bucky, who was doubled over crying with laughter, out of the gym.
You and Steve glared at Nat as she just sat there grinning, looking overly pleased with herself. A flush was creeping up Rogers neck as his fists tightened and loosened. You could see his jaw clenching under his beard and the tendons on his neck stand out in a look of absolute fury.
“You are such a meddling bitch, Romanoff.” You growled at her. Sure, it had been a while, but you were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, which you had told her after she plied you with three bottles of good Russian vodka.
“Yep.” She hopped off her stool and tossed her ice pack into the freezer. “I’m gonna leave you two to it. Talk, fight, fuck, do something. Your sexual tension is bringing down the vibe.”
She easily dodged the kettle bell you lobbed at her head with a laugh as she scurried out of the gym, closing the door behind her.
After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, you and Rogers turned back to each other. His face was no longer bright red as he looked at you, but you noticed something new in his gaze. His pupils were dilated as he peered at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His breathing was deeper as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You were quite a bit taller than Nat, but still only came up to his eyes. He had moved his gaze to your chest, which was rising and falling in a slightly faster rhythm as he took you in, before moving it to your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“Wanna talk?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Fight?”
“OK.”
You both took several steps back, retreating to your corners. Some unspoken agreement passed between you and Steve ripped off his t-shirt and sweatpants, until he was down to only his boxer briefs. You removed your sweats as well until you stood there in your sports bra and boy shorts. Neither of you examined whether you were doing this to increase your range of motion or for some other, hungrier reason.
You gazed at each other for a beat, drinking each other in. Steve rolled his broad shoulders and neck, bending from side to side briefly as you watched the muscles in his abdomen tighten and relax as he stretched. You reached your arms over your head before folding yourself over to wrap your arms around the backs of your thighs, twisting yourself to loosen your back muscles and feeling his eyes on you the whole time.
After straightening back up, you each gave each other a swift nod then rushed forward wordlessly.
You managed to gain the upper hand first when you vaulted over him as he dove at you, wrapping one arm around his throat as you carried your momentum and brought him to the ground, coiling your legs around his torso like a snake and stretching his right arm out with yours, pinning it in place.
He reached his left arm over his shoulder and punched you in the face.
You let go of him with a grunt and rolled up quickly, but he was able to get behind you and grabbed your left wrist with his right hand, hauling you over his shoulder while his left arm wrapped around your thigh and he drove you backwards into the mat, knocking the air out of your lungs before rolling over to try to pin you.
You got one leg between the two of you and drove your foot into the center of his chest, sending him flying across the room to crash into the free weights. You didn’t give him a chance to recover before charging back into him driving a fist into first his ribs, then his hip and causing him to buckle over before you wrapped one knee around his chest and rolled forward, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked as you went to straddle him.
He caught your knee and carried you into a kneeling position before throwing you into the sandbags with enough force to knock one loose. You landed heavily and grabbed a kettle bell, whipping at him. He barely dodged it as he covered his head and it glanced off his forearm, giving you enough time to rush forward.
He caught you in the center of the mat and twisted you over him until you were pinned; one of your wrists in each of his hands above your head, legs wrapped around your thighs forcing them apart as he pressed his whole body weight into you.
You stopped struggling finally and stared up at him. You both were breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Steve’s hair was falling into his eyes, which were now lust blown as he stared at your lips. You could feel the muscles in his torso twitching against you as he held you in place.
He suddenly released your wrists without a word, and brought one hand behind your head to pull your mouth to his hungrily. His tongue ran along your lower lip and you opened yourself up to him, sighing into his mouth.
His other hand worked its way down your back as his legs loosened their hold on yours and he pressed your hips into his. You felt him start to grind his hardened cock into your mound and let out a low moan. He growled into your lips before releasing your head and started to kiss and bite his way down your neck, drawing soft whimpers from you as he did.
When he reached the tops of your breasts he pulled away from you suddenly to skim one hand up your abdomen before hooking three fingers under the edge of your sports bra and slowly drawing it over your head, eyes boring into yours as he did so. Once his obstacle had been removed, he nuzzled his face into the valley between your tits before gently sucking a bruise there as his beard scratched against your skin. He then moved his mouth to first your right nipple, then your left; rolling them between his teeth and tongue as you pressed your chest further into his face with a gasp.
He continued his downward journey, dipping his tongue into your navel before he reached the top of your shorts. He slowly drew them down your thighs and off until you were laying underneath him, fully bare and wanton, your cunt clenching around nothing as he stared up at you, resting his chin on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you a silent question and you nodded, almost imperceptibly.
He drew your knees over his shoulders and pulled you down until his beard was flush against your mound. He nuzzled into the soft hair there before kissing the inside of your thighs slowly, his beard scratching the soft skin there as he gently ran the edge of his teeth up to your juncture then back down at an agonizingly slow pace. When you felt him breathe against your entrance, you wrapped one hand in his hair and moaned, and when his tongue found your clit you screamed and arched your back into him.
His tongue slowly circled your clit as he brought up his right hand and brushed his pointer and middle fingers through your arousal slowly, before inserting one finger into your pussy at a deliciously slow pace. You felt him smile against you as you moaned, wrapping your thighs around his neck as he moved in and out, curling his finger against that soft, spongy spot over and over again before adding another finger.
His tongue had stopped drawing it’s slow circles and was now pressing and releasing against you at faster intervals, causing your breath to hitch in your chest as you writhed against his face. He held a third finger at the edge of your entrance and when you pressed yourself into it, he inserted it into your canal, stretching you so good you let out a thin whine. He shook his head back and forth quickly but gently, adding a brand new sensation before he began to suck on your clit.
All the breath rushed out of you at once as you brought your second hand to press his head further into you. His fingers were fucking into you fast now and you felt the tension in your abdomen building as he alternated between sucking and licking at the small bundle of nerves. When he finally latched on, at the same time he curled all three fingers against your g-spot, you came apart around him, screaming his name as your thighs wrapped around his head like a vise as every muscle in your back tightened, thrusting your torso off the mat violently before you sank back down, relaxing as Steve helped you ride it out.
His name was the first thing either of you had said in almost 15 minutes, and he didn’t want to break the silence now. He was afraid if either of you spoke, you’d break the spell that seemed to have settled over you. Instead of saying anything, he gently pulled you down until you were straddling his waist, then nuzzled his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder before resting his forehead on yours and staring into your eyes.
You looked back at him, blinking slowly as you moved your hands down to his hips and slipping your fingers under the edge of his boxer briefs. You slipped them over his hips slowly, and you felt his legs shifting in between yours as he moved himself to help you remove them, never breaking eye contact with you. You matched each other’s breathing as he shifted his hips and lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes giving you a pleading look. You shifted your hips closer to him, and he slowly breached you with his tip, closing his eyes as he did so and letting out a low moan from the back of his throat. He started thrusting into you slowly, trying not to collapse on top of you as he held himself back.
You brought your face up to his and slowly kissed him, gently drawing your tongue along the outside of his lips. The hand you didn’t have buried in his hair moved to his lower back and pressed him into you further, and you softly whispered against his mouth “Please…”
He let out a feral growl and settled his full weight on top of you as his hands moved from their supportive positions. One moved underneath you to hold you against him as he fucked into you fast, the other buried itself in your hair as he wrenched your head back and ran his teeth over your throat, nipping at the small hollow at its base. His hand on your back tilted your hips so each drive of his brought him flush against your clit, and you started breathlessly whimpering as he drove into you at a punishing speed.
Your second orgasm came almost without warning. You felt yourself flutter around him one moment when he suddenly tilted your hips just right and you were seeing stars, your body spasming as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure crashed over you repeatedly.
Steve still wasn’t finished though. He gave you a kiss like a starving man before pulling out of you suddenly. You groaned at the loss before he flipped you over fast and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a cry as his tip kissed your cervix.
He maneuvered you into the position he wanted quickly; one knee hooked over his leg and brought up close to your side with your other leg stretched behind you. He brought one arm underneath you to wrap a massive hand around your throat while the other tangled itself in your hair and drew your head back enough for him to kiss you hard, shoving his tongue down your throat as he continued to drive into you.
You had another orgasm almost immediately. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching like crazy as your body almost vibrated with pleasure. Steve still wasn’t slowing down and you were having so much trouble catching your breath you were worried you were going to pass out. You couldn’t stop driving your hips back into him though, matching his pace and feeling the tension in your core begin to gather again. You rolled your eyes back in your head and let out a thin whimper as you moved a hand between your thighs, trying to gain some sort of control over your own pleasure before your brain short-circuited.
Steve ripped your fingers from your throbbing clit with a growl and replaced them with his own, drawing harsh circles around the overstimulated bundle as you gasped and whimpered. He moved the hand he had at your throat to cup your chin, and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth to gently nip at the rough pad as you felt his hips start to stutter, and he when he bit into your shoulder harshly you let out a scream and came apart violently, shaking underneath him uncontrollably.
His own release was right behind yours, and you felt his hot spend coating your insides as you fluttered around him and he wordlessly roared into your ear. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he moved his hand from your face to softly cup your breast, lazily rolling one nipple in between his fingers and you came down from your respective highs.
You felt him softening inside you as you started to untangle yourselves. He slowly pulled out and you let out a small sigh at the loss of him. You heard him groan as he caught the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, and he left a slow trail of kisses down your spine before gently turning you over.
You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled your face up to his, kissing him deeply as your other hand trailed through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his abdomen. He rested his forehead against yours again as you both got your breathing under control, before he broke out in an absolutely sinful grin.
You both started laughing then, the previous tension completely broken as you buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him, shaking with laughter.
“Oh my god, I really did need a good fuck.” You said breathlessly, tears leaking down your cheeks.
“Yeah, well I’d say we shouldn’t give Nat the satisfaction of knowing she’s right but I doubt she wasn’t listening in this whole time.”
“Jesus, of course she was. She’ll never stop meddling now.”
He grunted in agreement before giving you a brief kiss to the top of your head, then you separated yourselves to stumble around and locate your clothes.
The gym was an absolute wreck. Aside from the crack in the floor, the weight racks had fallen over in a domino effect after you had kicked Steve into one and two of the sandbags were leaking everywhere.
You were both covered in bruises from the sparring session and the stiffness you always felt after overexertion seemed to have multiplied tenfold as you struggled to pull your sweats back on, groaning at how tight your muscles were. Steve seemed to be feeling it as well as he let out a hiss through his teeth when he pulled his sweatshirt back over his head.
Once you were both dressed, he stalked over to you like a cat and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you in for one more kiss.
“Guess we should go face the rest of them.” He said, resigned.
You groaned as he dragged you out of the gym, hand in hand, to endure what you were sure was going to be a chorus of cat calls and innuendos, but when the two of you arrived in the living area, it was just Nat curled up on the sofa, giving the two of you a satisfied smirk.
“Where is everyone?” You asked her, looking around to see if maybe they had moved into the kitchen.
Nat threw back her head and laughed. “Oh they all ran out into the snow once you two really got started. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Bucky did in my entire life. He forgot his shoes.” She was crying with laughter.
“Outside, Nat, it’s freezing out there!” The sun had already gone down with how late in the year it was and once that happened, the temperature would drop severely.
“I told them but they couldn’t handle it. Bunch of prudes.”
“Yeah, while you sat here and listened, you pervert.” You and Steve started pulling on boots and coats to head out after them.
“I’m the pervert! While you two had the world’s loudest fuckfest less than 20 feet away from the rest of your housemates, hey!” You had thrown her coat at her face and she caught it to shrug around her shoulders. “They probably had to go out five miles before they weren’t able to hear you.”
Steve growled at her as he ripped the front door open and headed out with you on his heels.
“Oh, you’re welcome by the way! It sure would be nice to get some appreciation for your birthday gift, Y/N… shit.”
Steve had lobbed a snowball the size of a golden retriever at her that she barely dodged at the last minute, cursing under her breath.
Steve wrapped an arm around you as you headed out into the fields to find your poor housemates and apologize, nuzzling himself into your hair with a grin. “Happy birthday.” He murmured to you, giving you a quick kiss before ruining the moment by bellowing “Barnes, get your dumbass back here, you forgot your boots!”
You grinned at him, looking up at the sky where the borealis had started and thinking that maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.
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mrsagathaharkness · 3 years
Text
Aftercare
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WARNING: Mentions of sex, but only a little, Abandonment Issues, Mentions of a past toxic relationship, Incredibly Fluffy
Summary: After very intense sex with Loki, you were drained of everything you had. After cleaning himself up, it was your time to get pampered. This was a usual practice for you both.
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LOKI’S P.O.V.
We have been at it for hours now. Both drenched in sweat, out of breath and clinging onto each other’s bodies. I look down at her and her eyes were practically closed.
“You did so well, pet”, I praised,
Kissing her forehead and rubbing her aching back. She merely mumbled something as a reply. I lift her face up by her chin, gently pressing my lips onto hers. My kisses trailed from her lips to her cheeks, then down to her neck. I pull away to study her tired form, when I see her skin, painted with my marks, bruises and bite marks.
The guilt started to set in.
“I’m sorry for these, my love”, apologizing profusely,
I kissed down her chest, noticing more hickeys, the lower I go. My eyes wander to the inside of her thighs, only to be met with more of the love bites I’d left behind.
“I’m so sorry”
I get back up to her face, cupping her cheek in my hand.
“I’ll be right back, darling”, I say,
About to head to the bathroom and start a bath for us, when she takes a hold of my arm.
“Don’t leave me”, she looked up at me with sad eyes,
I playfully pout, before placing a hand on the back her head and kissing the top of it.
“I’ll be back, I promise”, I assured,
Her eyes bore into mine, exploring every depth of my soul. So much longing and need radiated off of her, that it took me by surprise. She’s explained to me about her past relationship and how badly it went before. My blood boiled just remembering the story. How could he hurt someone so wonderful? So sweet and so kind?
If she hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve killed him myself. He would use her for whatever he wanted, sleep wantonly with other women, somehow blame her for it, apologize insincerely, just to do all of it over again. She deserved better than that…and sometimes, I think she deserved better than me.
She was too good for cruel this world could be.
“You promise?”, she questioned,
I smile softly, before kissing her once more.
“I promise”
She reluctantly let go and I quickly make my way into the bathroom, not bothering to throw some boxers on. I filled the tub with hot water, bubble soap and raspberry bath salts. I also lit the matching candle and set it on the marble counter of our bathroom sink. My hands find the dial and dim the lights.
I made my way back to my lover, gently nudging her awake.
“Darling, our bath is ready”, I say,
She turns over to me and I pick her up, whilst her arms made their way around my neck, holding on tight. The two of us get into the bathroom, as I gently lowered her into the bath first. She immediately hissed at the warm water making contact with her delicate skin, but eventually relaxed with a sigh.
She scooted forward and looked up at me. I chuckle softly and get in behind her, wrapping my arms around her neck, as she laid against my chest. If I could stay like this forever, I would. I took the loofah from the basket suspended over the tub and began to clean her up. (Y/N) and I have had sex like this before, but I was worried I might have over-exerted her.
“Darling?”, I whisper,
“Hm?”
“Did I push you too far?”
“Mm”, she shakes her head,
“Are you sure? Because if I have, I’m truly sorry”
“Nothing I can’t handle, babe”, she assured,
I exhale and kiss the back of her head.
“I hope you know how much I love you”, I say,
The room went silent for a moment, before the sound of water swishing, as she sat up, resonated in the bath. She turned to me and placed her soft hands against my cheek. Instinctively, my face buries into her touch.
“And I hope you know how much I love you”, she replied,
I could feel my eyes begin to water.
“I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without you in it”, she continued,
I place my hand on top of hers, kissing her palm.
“Neither could I”
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verus-veritas · 3 years
Text
Legacy
Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus
"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.
"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.
"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.
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"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.
"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.
"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.
"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.
"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."
"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.
"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."
"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.
"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.
"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.
"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.
"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."
"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.
"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.
"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.
"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."
I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."
"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.
"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."
"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"
"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.
"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.
"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.
"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.
"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."
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"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.
I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.
"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.
"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.
"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.
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His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.
---
*Gasp*
I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.
After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...
I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.
My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.
My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.
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Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.
The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"
“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.
Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...
I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.
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let-them-read-fics · 3 years
Text
Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)
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Requested: Yes
Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff
A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.
This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.
Click for Rosé and Lisa
♡ Happy Reading ♡
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Jisoo
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Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.
You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.
Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.
When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.
Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.
Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.
Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.
"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."
"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."
"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.
Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.
"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."
Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.
You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.
Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.
Constant bickering and one liners in class
"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"
"Apoligize for what?"
"Ending your career."
*unintelligible mumbling*
"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.
"I said: you're going down."
She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."
You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*
School would always be interesting and eventful with her
Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.
Turning Point
Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.
On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.
"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.
"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.
"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.
What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.
The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.
You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.
---
An Hour Later
In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.
"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.
"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.
You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.
Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.
"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"
You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."
She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.
"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.
"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"
"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.
With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.
---
30 Minutes Later
"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.
"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.
When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.
"Give it back, Y/N!"
"No!"
You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.
"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.
You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."
"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.
So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.
You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.
Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.
Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.
"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.
The Fallout
Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night
Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again
You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson
Subtle flirting at the competition the next day
Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude
"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.
"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.
The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."
He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.
"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.
"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.
Needless to say, you beat them.
Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner
Jisoo sat beside you
Cue the blushing and quiet flirting
It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush
It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said
It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world
After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).
As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.
"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Jennie
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Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.
You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.
You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework
Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.
She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion
You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.
So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.
"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."
"Fine."
The Turning Point
Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.
"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.
"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.
"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.
"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.
"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.
Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.
You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.
"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.
"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."
You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?
"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.
"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.
She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.
When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.
"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"
"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.
"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.
"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.
"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.
She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.
She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.
A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.
"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.
"Thanks, Jen."
Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.
"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.
Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.
When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.
"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.
"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.
She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.
----
45 Minutes Later
Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.
What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.
She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.
Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.
You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.
"You bitc--"
"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.
"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.
"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.
"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."
Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.
"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.
"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.
"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."
The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.
You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.
"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.
"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.
"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.
"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.
"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.
"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.
"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.
The Fallout
In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.
Walking her to class
Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff
Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways
Being patient with her
Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you
"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.
"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."
You were excited for the rest of class
You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.
"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"
You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.
"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.
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