#I cannot describe how this boy makes me feel. I want to spin him around like I’m Fred Astaire and touch his hair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butlersbabe · 2 years

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Good Man’s Land– Cowboy!A.B. x Reader

a/n: hiii my sweet loves! i appreciate all the love and support! only one more part!! i’m working on requests! please be understanding with me, i move to college tomorrow! this week i will seem very transparent but i really hope to post as much as i can! i really cannot express the amount of thankfulness i have for ALL of you!

warnings: SMUT!! minors please please please DNI. swearing, pet death, fire. this one is kinda angsty.

w/c: 3.7k

part three 🌾

Part IV.

You ran a stick of brownish lipstick across both of your lips. Rubbing them together, you pick up a brush and relax your curls that you’d done earlier but let them sit so they’d stick a bit more. Granted, you had no hope in them but you’d look cute for at least an hour. You wore a cute pair of bell bottoms and a striped tube top. Papa cleaned your nasty boots for you but you didn’t exactly tell him why you’d asked him to. Unplugging the curler and cleaning up your vanity, you give one last look before going downstairs.

Austin waits on the couch in the living room and whistles when you finally stand in front of him. You smile and he grabs you hand and gives you a little spin before he speaks when his eyes are already saying. “Aren’t you just the prettiest cowgirl?” You grin and hum, “Well I’ve got the most handsome cowboy, so it’s fitting.” You receive a kiss on the cheek from him and he turns you so that the both of you can leave. Mama and Papa were already winding down, which meant you both were free to do virtually anything you wanted. There was a church but they could skip if they played their cards right. But they shouldn't get in much trouble even if caught. You take the passenger’s seat as Austin hops into the driver’s and starts the 68’ Ford F-150, taking off after a few seconds. The sun was coming down and painted a beautiful gold scene on anything it touched. His hand found its way onto your thigh, making you smile as you glance out the window.

It was about a 15 minute drive to Marfa, 5 minutes to the restaurant. That left a bit of time for talking, getting to know one another. You found out he has a sister, Ashley. He was born on August 17th. He hates cookie dough ice cream, and his favorite color is blue. You also found out that he lost his mom a while back too…You were hesitant to admit the same thing, you didn’t want to make him feel like you were downplaying his near identical loss. But you told him about yourself, how you played soccer for 6 years as a kid, took up ballet for a day, cried and didn’t go back, how you used to spend summers with Mama and Papa. You even told him about the one time you couldn’t get out of the tire swing and peed your pants because you were so upset. Then you talked about your dad, how he worked as a dispatcher and was kind of a freelance worker, and you talked about your mom. How she was the sweetest lady on earth and you wished to be like her one day. You didn’t necessarily mention her death but Austin took notice.

Arriving at Planet Marfa, he tells you to wait in your seat before he could run around the front of the truck, to your side and open the door. “Let me get this for you, darlin’.” he says. You scoot out and thank him, granting him a kiss on the cheek. He closed the door and you hook your arm around his and enter the venue. There was live music playing and lights were strung all over the “beer garden”, as Austin could best describe the place. You both took a seat at the only table that seemed empty and awaited a server. The waitress, she said you could call her Trixie, asked what you were having and Austin ordered nachos for the table. After showing her ID’s, you both ordered drinks. A Corona with lime for the blonde boy, and you just got a rum and coke. The nachos and drink came to the table after only about five minutes, you were impressed with the quality of the food. The drinks were good too. You really enjoyed the music, the atmosphere, everything. You two talked and laughed, the date was near perfect.

Back at home, you and Austin find a couple more beers to crack open. He sat at the table while you stayed standing, grabbing a glass of water along with your alcohol. “I’m gonna have to take you dancing, I’m sorry I didn't take you out on the floor.” He apologizes, you shrug. “It’s okay,” you say, taking a sip of your cold water. “I’m not much of a dancer. The best I can do is sway and pray.” He stands and pushes the chair in then starts tapping at his phone.

“Well let's get to swayin’ and prayin’ then.” He clicks his phone off and sits it on the counter. “Rainbow” by Kacey Musgraves begins to play and he leads your arms to wrap around his neck and his own find comfort on your hips. You both begin to sway in sync. He gives you a dorky smile, you roll your eyes then lay your head on his shoulder, his head following to lay on yours. You two let the song play while you slow dance in the dimly lit kitchen. He softly hums along to the tune. One of your hands gently drag your nails wherever they could reach.

Austin holds you like you’d leave the second he let go. His grip on you was never painful but it was so secure. And you felt so at home in his arms. Like you’d been longing for this feeling from another person for as long as you could remember. You’d been in a few relationships but never had such a good connection. It was a new feeling. It made you a bit nervous. Your heart was beating so hard you were sure it’d leave a dent in the blond’s own chest.

Both pairs of boots scuffle across the wooden floors, denim against denim. The ending of the song comes too soon, he spins you and gives you a dip. Finishing, you fall apart from each other. He stands in front of you and places a hand gently on your face and slowly his face gravitates towards yours, a single hand still on your hip. The pitter patter of rain starts to tap the tin roofing, it gets harder by the second. But you swore you could only hear Austin’s breathing. He must’ve been nervous too. That’s probably why he didn’t take you out on the dance floor.

His lips were inches away before you both heard creaky footsteps finding their way to the kitchen and you both pulled away before anyone could see anything. “What in tarnation are you two doing? Go get in bed.” Mama asks, her hair back in a ponytail and her muumuu wrinkled.

You both chimed “Yes, Ma’am.”

Something told you to go stay with Austin that night. You didn’t want sex, but you wanted to be next to him. You weren’t ready to have tonight end just yet.

You turn your light off and your feet take you to Austin’s room as quietly as you could. He was already in bed, lights off and everything. So you just climb into bed with him. You throw the covers on and fit into his arms. He wakes up for a second but doesn’t fret. “What's going on, pretty girl?” He asks. “Nothing, just felt like having a sleepover.” He nods, “I’d like that.” And he pulls you in and sleep finds you.

You wake up to Papa shouting. You shoot up from your spot in the bed and Austin hazily asks what you were doing. And then Mama’s shouting for the both of you. That rids Austin of any tiredness he had a split second before. You and Austin jump out of bed and race downstairs and slip your boots on. The scent of burning hay, wood, and whatever else fills your nostrils. You fly out of the door to see the chicken coop, pig pen, and part of the stables engulfed in angry orange flames. Your heart stopped beating for damn near the whole 10 seconds that you stood on the porch in shock.

Austin brings your back from your paralyzed state and hurries off the porch, out to the pen and stables, you follow him. Papa and Mama are already letting the horses out. Austin opens the coop and rushes Hank to heard the chickens out. Though old and tired, Chuck is already at work with the hogs. You grab the garden hose and start to spray the fire as much as possible. Austin takes the chicken’s water bucket and pours it on the hay that was set ablaze, taking most of it out then stomping on the rest.

Papa hollers at Mama to get water from the inside and throw it on the pigpen hay. The stables grew even more burnt by the second even though you were spraying it with water. Nothing seemed to be going out. Austin runs to shut the gate even though the cattle guard did a lot of the work on its own.

Papa takes the hose and gets closer to the fire and starts to lessen the burning. “Go help Mama.” He demands, you take off into the house and begin to fill a bucket with water that sits next to the counter that’s usually for eggs. After it is filled, you struggle to take it out and throw it on the fire.

Chuck was a good dog. He always listened. But when you hear Austin screaming at the dogs to get back from the flames, it stumps, and honestly broke your heart, when Chuck didn’t listen. He ran straight into the pigpens which meant there was probably still livestock. And you hated that Chuck was such a good dog. He knew his job was to clear out all the animals. And he was doing his job.

“Chuck!” You screamed, dropping the bucket. You ran as fast as your legs could go. “Chucky! Get out of there!” Your voice wailed, tears starting to stream down your face. “Y/N!” You suddenly feel strong arms holding onto you, picking you up and then dropping you to your knees. Of course it was Austin, he couldn’t stand seeing you get hurt. So he did as any good cowboy would do, he told his cowgirl to stay back while he went to find your dog. All the while, Hank barks and pleads for someone to save his best friend.

Within minutes, Austin walks back out, Chuck’s lifeless body in his arms.

“No!” Your scream was bloodcurdling. You rush to Austin and the cow dog. He places him on the ground and Chuck just flops to the ground. “Mama! Papa! Help!”

Mama quickly came over and felt for a pulse, breath, anything. Nothing was working. Her watery eyes look at yours and she shakes her head. You break down, laying on the sweet, loyal dog. “Goddamnit.” You cry, tears falling from your eyes. You couldn’t do anything but cry over your dog.

“Deanna! I need help!” Your papa shouts, and you look up to see Hank whining over your and Chuck’s body. Austin and Mama run to him and start to help.

Then, you felt a droplet on your head. And another. Another. It starts raining. You look over at the fire, the hard rain makes it shrink at an incredible pace. Until it’s out and Papa drops the hose. And Mama starts shouting praises to God. But you were almost positive Chuck was the one who made it rain. The three came back to you, everyone was crying. Papa laid a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Poppy. He was a good dog.” You breathlessly sob over his body until Austin pulls you off of him, you shake your head begging that he left you with the dog. That you wanted to wait and make sure he was going to wake up. “C’mon, Y/N. Let’s go back inside.” Unwillingly, you went back inside and took a tearful shower and went back to bed, curling into a ball, crying yourself to bed.

You all had a short and sweet service for Chucky that rainy morning before church. He was buried underneath the tree that he would chase you around as a child. The tire swing that once hung wasn’t there anymore. Instead, a small wooden cross staked into the ground. It had a small epitaph written on it with a chunky sharpie.

Good Boy, Chuck. 2008-2022.

You didn’t bother doing makeup that morning. Austin held onto the whole day. You couldn’t get through the service without crying. Mama was crying the whole time too. You had gone out to the car half way through. The sermon was about how there was a place for all of us after we die. And although you weren’t sure about your religion, you hoped Chuck went to that beautiful place they promised there was.

You knew things at home wouldn’t continue the same. There was a lot of rebuilding to be done and though it wouldn’t take much for the stables to be boarded up and painted. And the pens for the pigs and the chickens wasn’t a big deal. Everything just felt so heavy.

You were washing up the plates from lunch when you feel a pair of strong arms come around your waist and a head rest on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You nod because that felt easier. It felt a lot easier than explaining how your childhood was wiping out a lot quicker than you had liked it. You were being forced to grow up without a reminder of what a lovely childhood you’d lived.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I can’t keep crying. I’m so tired of being sad.” Your lip wobbles.

“Then let’s do everything we can to make sure you’re not sad anymore. Let’s be happy, okay? The sun isn’t out but it’s raining. And rain helps the crops and there are puddles we can jump around in.”

You laid down the dishes and wrapped your soapy hands around Austin.

“I’m really lucky to have you. Please don’t leave me?” He says and it didn’t feel out of place. Just…unexpected.

“I never will.”

Finally, it’s the evening. The rain had seemed to stop and it became warmer. You and Austin take Elvis and Jagger down to the pond to let them frolic while you two sit and talk about whatever was on your mind. You laid back on the plaid quilt while Austin skipped rocks across the lake. The setting sun smooches your skin with its golden glow as much as it could through the wandering clouds. You wore a little sundress you’d been hoarding for months, Austin said the color was a good one on you. You listened to anything this boy said. It amazed you. The way you were so infatuated with this soul. The wind whistles as it passes by you to say hello. Against the gusts, Austin’s music played off his phone. Just a bunch of country oldies, Chris Stapleton, George Strait, Johnny Cash. All that jazz, it was his favorite. And quite honestly, it was becoming yours too. Your eyes fall shut under the impression you’d take a nap while Austin did whatever it was he brought you both out here to do.

“Y/N.” The boy plops down next to you. You roll on your side, propping your head up with your hand, the boy mirroring you. “Hi, lover.” You smile, cupping his face with your free hand. “We need to head back soon.” You remind him of the time. 7:42, your phone displayed last time you checked. “We don't have to go back just right away, right?” He asks, giving your wrist a gentle peck. You take that hand and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that was blown into your face.

He leans in to give you a kiss that lasts at least 25 seconds. He pulls you in, you now laid on your back. Your heart was racing after he kissed you again, this time with tongue and you knew he wanted more. You did too.

His lips attach to your neck, sucking soft pretty pink marks that were almost invisible into your tender skin. His free hand finds the hem of your pulling it up just enough to reveal your panties and he plays with the band, wanting to break through. You prop your legs to give him more room. His lips litter chaste kisses across your chin. His fingers migrate towards your heat and back up to your belly that rose and fell with your shaky breaths.

Austin lets a deep breath out and his hand finally breaks the barrier between you and him. He looks at you for confirmation. You nod. Two fingers divide your folds and they rub tiny gentle circles into your clit. A huff exits your body, your eyes closing. Austin’s lips gently suck at your neck again, the pace picking up, pressure starts to build in the pit of your stomach. You let out a whimper that could only be described as desperate. Desperate for more than this.

His fingers dance along your clit while you writhe, your voice calling out his name every other second. Austin speeds his pace, making you lose control of your legs. They shake while the wind plays with your dress. You prop back up when you feel the sensation becoming too much to handle. You gasp and moan until your climax runs through your whole body. A sound that Austin would later call “the most heavenly thing” left your lips as you trapped his hand between your legs. You grab his wrist, pulling it away. He smiles at you in your hazy state.

You eventually grinned back, the quiet thunder woke you from your open eyed rest. You reach over and push him to his back and settle between his legs. Stretch and begin to pluck the buttons of his shirt until his chest is on full display. You both giggle at the deed that was being done, unbuckling his belt. With his help, you pull his jeans and boxers to release his painfully hard dick. You take it in your hand and lick the length of his cock, taking the tip in your mouth once you reach the top and swirl your tongue around it for a few seconds. Taking the rest into your mouth, you place your hands on his thighs, gripping them. He lets out a filthy moan, a hand grasping the picnic blanket.

“Fuck, Y/N. Feels so good, baby.”

You suck hard and bob quickly, trying your best to get a good reaction out of him. You knew he was feeling good from the way his hips would buck to help the tip of his penis meet the back of your throat. He was close, very close. He grabbed your hair as you let off with a wet pop. Austin’s face contorts into a confused look. You stand as he sits up. You slip off your panties from under your dress and toss them.

You straddle Austin and slowly, you lower yourself onto his cock. You let out a sweet, soft moan over Patsy Cline sorrowfully singing about how she’s crazy over someone. Austin enveloped your waist with his arms, prompting you to move. You do the same to his neck, pressing the side of his face into your chest. Thunder cracks, but you two don’t care a bit. Your breath is heavy again as you roll your hips against his. He would push his pelvis into yours as much as he could without support behind him.

You both kept the pace slow, it was enough to get both of you off but that didn’t even seem like the point of the current moment. Just being intimate and so close felt like the only thing that mattered right then and there.

Soon enough the rate picked up. You couldn’t help but throw your head back in pleasure, whimpers falling from your lips again.

“I’m close, baby.” Austin hums into your shoulder. “Me too,” You said, panting.

“Austin! Y/N!”

You both froze.

“Dinner’s almost ready! Come inside before it starts to rain again! Bring the horses in too!” Mama’s voice rang out all the way from the house.

“Okay, coming!” Well, not now, you weren’t.

You both got up and made yourselves presentable, but you had one minor problem, you couldn't find your underwear. You searched around but gave up after 2 minutes, not wanting Mama to worry about you two anymore.

After calling the horses back to you, walking them back to the stable and taking care of all of that, you walk straight up to your room to change. Austin just sits on the couch with Papa and discusses rebuild details.

“I’m glad you and Austin get along now.” Mama says, chopping the potatoes up while you make gravy. You laugh, little did she know. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

“Papa! Can you come in here for a second?” She hollers from the kitchen into the living room. Shouting was her specialty. “Yes, ma’am?” Papa says, leaning against the counter. “Why don’t you tell Poppy the good news?” Papa smiles and crossed him arms.

“We’re buying you a place in Denver.” He starts, your breathing stops. “In the same place as your daddy. And we’re giving you money for a few month's rent and some groceries. I have a friend up there who just started a feed business and I told him about you and he said he’d love to give you a job in the office or hands on.”

You were caught off gaurd to say the least. “That’s great! Uh- I- Thank you!”

“Well, we’re just super proud of the work you’ve been putting in and we wanted to set you up and make sure you knew how much we appreciated all you’ve done.”

“Does Austin know?”

“He doesn’t yet but we don’t think he’ll mind being the only farmhand again.”

“Can I tell him?”

“Well, sure, kiddo.”

You nod and go on with cooking. You’re leaving. After such a short time with Austin. How was the timing always so bad?

#austin butler #elvis 2022 #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #elvis x reader #austin butler imagine #elvis presley #elvis movie #austin butler elvis #cowboy!austin #austin butler x reader smut #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction

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a-not-so-sure-artist · 1 year

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Fnf Twinsomnia mod head cannons: Part Three (With visuals!)

(Feat. my O.C for this mod, Alex!)

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Boy specializes at playing the trumpet, and pretty much any brass instrument, but the trumpet is his go-to favorite. Girl’s good at piano and she knows a bit on the saxophone! She doesn’t like that Boy knows how to play trumpet because half of the time when he plays, it’s to be a lil’ piece of shit and annoy her >:^c

There was one kid the twins were looking after who’s school was having a Mother’s Day party but their mom…wasn’t around…and they couldn’t just NOT go since it was in the middle of class time (for some reason), so Girl surprised the child by showing up as their stand-in mom so they wouldn’t feel left out! And ever since then the kid would always refer to her as ‘mom’ be it on accident or on purpose <3

This is more like a cannon fact for my O.C: Alex can say words other than “mop”, but there’s a RARE chance of that happening, and it occurs randomly against Alex’s will. That being said, there’d definitely be a scenario where Alex is happily playing with some kids while repeatedly saying mop before proceeding to stub her toe and let out a VERY loud and vocal “FUCK-!” shocking everyone in the room, including the twins who were CERTAIN they couldn’t do that before.

You simply cannot tell me otherwise that the Twins remain hidden in invisibility after putting a child to sleep sometimes, if not to stop any monsters from trying to get them under their noses, then to make sure the child has actually fallen asleep and isn’t faking it. The amount of times they had to stick around to catch a kid sneaking out of bed to steal some cookies as soon as they “leave” is unimaginably high.

What if each strand of Boy’s hair could do something anytime it’s pulled on? Like, pulling on one piece of hair turns him into a walking glow-stick, another causes the other strands to retract/letting go makes his head spin like a Beyblade, another makes him sound off like the siren of a firetruck, inflate like a ballon, etc.

Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe what Alex feels when they’re trying to communicate with anybody and it doesn’t come across because they can’t understand shit she’s saying. He starts flailing his arms around and stomping her feet like a child and the twins will be like “Yo chill out stop throwing a tantrum” when they’re actually trying to tell them the Boogieman’s got Bf and is cooking him alive as they speak.

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Sorry if the drawings get worse as the post goes on but I just thought it’d be fun to throw in some silly-ass visuals for my silly-ass headcannons this time. I didn’t want to completely forget about this so I legit speed-drew the drawings past the second one all in one day. My finger hurts.

Anyways uhhh…drink your apple juice kids

#fnf twinsomnia #fnf mod #fnf boy and girl #fanart #twinsomnia #digital art #fan art #Twinsomnia Kid #yes I did indeed trace the piano with a google image sue me #Hold on I actually like the way the last one turned out O.O #Sorry if boy’s head spinning is weird as heck I suck at drawing moving things/smear frames

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creacherkeeper · 1 year

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50, 51, 56 & 57 for Scruggs and a lost npc of your choice (& 69 for bo if that’s not too many qs)

im gonna do scruggs and brandi!!!! <3333 onions favorite guys

50. can they sing? can they dance?

scruggs: he absolutely fucking cannot dance but he likes doing that like. slow sway, occasionally spin partner, kind of dancing. i think his sisters used to make him do that a lot. and i think he has a good singing voice but for like. deep rousing tavern songs kind of singing

brandi: she cannot sing or dance if her life depended on it and that doesnt stop her from trying

51. what is the most beautiful thing in the world, for them?

scruggs: just like. a really nice homemade meal shared with family

brandi: she would probably say something like a really finely crafted weapon or something but i think the real answer is a sunrise after youve been up all night and your brain is a little foggy but you just feel so at peace and chill. is like his real answer

56. what animal do they most relate to?

scruggs: i think a grizzly bear. big, intimidating, aggressive if you mess with them, but also really caring and protective and if youre on their good side quite cuddly and soft

brandi: i mean. she literally is a rabbit. so that

57. what makes them angry?

scruggs: its a little hard for scruggs as waylon's bodyguard because he has to keep up the appearance that he's angry when people are acting like dicks around waylon (which is often because waylon is an utter bitch of an old man) but generally he finds it pretty amusing. but like. when people make any sort of remarks about his family he can get set off pretty easily. he is ,, a Tad overprotective over lizzie and kelsey much to their chagrin

brandi: brandi has so so much anger that is so so incredibly repressed that she just doesn't realize she's feeling it ever

69. how would they describe their party members?

ough

nox: bo has literally so so much affection for nox so when they didnt talk for a while he was genuinely so emo about it. nox is his little guy!!! he's just so used to people being mad at him for things that when they had the crush convo bo was like. i couldnt have changed the outcome of this but now nox is gonna hate me <33 so was trying to give nox space and when nox didnt initiate bo was like. okay i was right. but now that they've finally talked i think bo is still a little Skittish but like. just loves nox so dearly. and is so keen on protecting him and supporting them any way he can. i think of all the party members bo is the most Sweet On nox. just very Affectionate

kai: kai is his brother!!!!! like for so long family Only meant his mom to bo. which is part of why he was like. so unable to see how bad she was and leave. she was All He Had. and so after finding bubba and rosie and like. finally letting himself grow closer to kai in that way. he realized that his family could look a lot different than he ever thought it could. kai is his brother which means he's the perfect person to piss bo off but also he would so die for them in a fucking heartbeat. he can finally like. kind of get back some of his teenage years with them and like. just have some fun? Boy Time. he's trying not to mother hen kai so bad but. it's something he's still learning

nettle: speaking of mother henning. bo wants to soooooo bad. nettle is so wet cat core and its so obvious she's been having a Rough Go that he genuinely wants to do everything he can to support her but is struggling because she clearly Doesnt Want That. so he's kind of at a loss for what to do and just tries to make himself Present. or does things like makes a ton of different kinds of cookies to sus out what her favorite ones are. he's simply like. i will adopt her i just need to not have her run into the woods first. and i think he's started opening up to her like. To Show Her It's Okay. not realizing that it's actually really helping him bc he's a little stupid

theo: okay not a party member TECHNICALLY BUT. bo wants to take care of her so so bad. you know when a realtor takes you through a house and is like its a fixer upper its got good bones!!! bo is like. im simply going to Fix Her. he thinks she has so much potential to feel better she just needs to accept help. he really is so sad puppy dog about her and like. he just so desperately wants her to acknowledge that she's cared for and doesn't understand why that's so hard because he's a gigantic hypocrite who can't acknowledge that he himself is cared for

#THANK YOU BESTIE THESE WERE GOOD QUESTIONS #lost township #bo tag #scruggs losttownship #brandi losttownship

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elainefm · 2 years

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Champagne Problems - Taylor Swift “your midas touch on the chevy door, november flush and your flannel cure... how evergreen our group of friends, don’t think we’ll say that word again and soon they’ll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through. one for the money, two for the show, i never was ready so i watch you go. sometimes you just don’t know the answer, ‘til someones on their knees and asks you. she would have made such a lovely bride, ‘what a shame she’s fucked in the head’ they said. but you’ll find the real thing instead, she’ll patch up your tapestry that i shred.”

This one was an obvious choice to me because everything Midas touched turned into gold and Harvey is the GOLDEN BOY. Anyway, I imagine that when Harvey and Elaine broke up it was a SCANDAL, especially with Elaine’s infidelity. I think that when they broke up her natural reaction (after being rejected by Casey) was to want to beg for Harvey back, but she stopped herself from causing him any more hurt than she already had. Which isn’t to say that she WONT be stirring up some drama with him in the future, but i digress. Now that they’re so far removed from it, she wants him to have a future with someone else that can actually make him happy. “How evergreen our group of friends, don’t think we’ll say that word again and soon they’ll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through.” The two of them spent their entire lives as a “we” and an “us”, and now that they’re separated they’ll never be able to say those words again. It’s the recognition that even though the two of them have separated the world didn’t stop spinning and their friends didn’t stop carrying on with their lives. There’s this giant hole where they once were, but to everyone else it’s business as usual.

Favourite Ex - Maisie Peters “it was open and closing and hopelessly hoping for shore. we were here, we were ghosting. both of us coasting on just give a little more...you were my best nights and worst fights and deepest breaths. you were my gold rush to cold touch, favourite ex. and all of the others cancel out each other and its always you left. you were my no sleep, cried for weeks, favourite ex.”

Another gold reference I cannot be stopped. Since they were together for so long, Elaine definitely holds a lot of love in her heart for Harvey even though it’s not romantic. I think it took her a long time to get over no longer having him in her life, especially since she always thought they’d be together forever. Even if it wasn’t what she really wanted.

Love Like That - Lauv “i don’t deserve you and it hurts to get the kinda love that you never had, wish that you could give, give, give it back. wish that i could love, love, love you back. wish that i could love like that... wish i could finish what we started, but i don’t know how to give the kind of love that you deserve, knowing that i can’t just makes it worse.”

I think that Elaine realized she wasn’t in love with Harvey years before they actually broke up. She would hear other people describe the feeling or watch actors swoon over one another in movies, and wonder if she’d ever start to feel that way with him. And then I think she just sort of accepted that it wasn’t going to happen and that she’d just have to deal with it. It wasn’t like she didn’t like being around Harvey, it wasn’t like she’d mind spending her life with him. He would be a good husband, a good father- who cared about butterflies anyway? But there was a nagging guilt in her stomach, knowing that he felt what she couldn’t. She wanted so badly to be able to feel the same way that he did, but it just never happened.

Coney Island - Taylor Swift (feat. The National) “the question pounds my head, what’s a lifetime of achievement? if i pushed you to the edge, but you were too polite to leave me. do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? will you forgive my soul, when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care? we were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be. the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams. sorry for not winning you an arcade ring... did i leave you hanging every single day?...did i paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?... the fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go. sorry for not making you my centerfold.”

Okay I know I included so many lyrics from this song but it truly truly describes their entire relationship perfectly to me. To the Archers, Elaine’s biggest achievement in life would be to marry Harvey. It’s all they’ve ever wanted for their daughter, and at some point I think she started to question if that was really all she ever wanted to do with her life? She’s always been incredibly ambitious, and she hates the thought of only being known as Mrs. Harvey Hargrove one day. Elaine and Harvey spent so much time together that they pretty much built their own world, one that Elaine left Harvey behind in when they broke up. The version of her that existed in that world no longer exists. She’s not in love with Harvey, she never was, but it doesn’t stop her from loving him. She desperately wants to know if he’ll ever forgive her and if they can ever restore some sort of relationship past bickering at events. “Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring” This line speaks volumes to me, because it captures the fact that their relationship existed so much in their childhood/teenhood. An arcade ring seems like such an insignificant thing, but it represents working to win something to give to your significant other. She never put the same work into their relationship as Harvey did.

@harveyiii

#cusatask #not maisie peters making me spell favorite the wrong way #those little red squiggly lines pain me

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primofate · 3 years

Note

Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

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Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!”

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,”

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job.

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,”

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face.

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens.

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen.

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage.

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?”

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar.

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

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calumxkisses · 3 years

Text

Sweet Creature | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: i think implied smut?

summary: request - Heeyyy, can you do one, where they have a big fight and they are in quarentine, and they stop talking to each other, and the sleep in different rooms, with cal... kiss from brazil 🇧🇷

a/n: this is one of my favorite song! let me know what you think about it! i hope you enjoyed it ;)

you should read this imagine while listening to: sweet creature

➳

“What the hell is wrong with you?” a scream comes out of your lungs. Your face has turned red, your head hurts and you feel your heart pounding. Your throat is now dry and you feel your nails sticking into the palm of your hand.

What Calum notices, however, are the tears running down your face and the pain behind your eyes. What hurts him the most, though, is knowing he is the cause of your pain. He would like to hug you, tell you that he is sorry, that he loves you and that he doesn't even remember why you are fighting, but his pride prevents him from being the person he would like to be. The person you are in love with.

“All you do is whine.” he screams out, rolling his eyes and letting out a snort.

This discussion was the straw that broke the camel's back, filled by being forced to stay at home, by a canceled tour and canceled parties but, above all, by the concern of a world that is in chaos, with a fatal virus that spreads like wildfire.

He is worried, he feels the burden of not having to disappoint anyone, of being a good person who says the right things, of being a child who cares about their parents who live on the other side of the world and cannot go to visit, reassure, and that he can only see through a mobile phone screen.

“I have a right to be angry, you know that, right?” Your voice calms down a bit, but anger still runs through your veins. You walk up and down the room, with one hand on your forehead and being careful not to step on the broken glass of the fallen vase.

Calum has spent the last few weeks in the studio, out in the garden practicing, or locked in a room, anywhere but with you. He preferred to wake up early and go to sleep late, feel cold instead of holding you and skipping meals to avoid being with you.

For the first time in days, you get a good look at him: his hair has grown, as has the beard surrounding his face, he has terrible dark circles and the vein on his neck comes out prosperous, underlining how much he is screaming.

You felt abandoned, alone, left on the sidelines, and your feelings were amplified by the impossibility of going to someone, just to escape from that situation, to be held by someone else or just to talk over a coffee with a friend.

The only thing you could have done, was to ask him why, what you had done to deserve such treatment, and to spend some time together. And that’s where the scream started.

Tears roll down your face and you run your hand under your eyes to wipe them away. If you didn't notice them before, now the pinch caused by their wake has become hard to ignore.

“Are you going to cry now? God, you’re making me regret being with you. I really wish you weren’t born.”

Calum feels the pain it caused you before even reading the expression on your face. He puts his hand in front of his mouth in hopes of being able to block the words, but they have already left his lips and have come straight into your ears, getting stuck under your skin and breaking even the last pieces of the broken heart you have left.

His words hit you like a bolt from the blue. Arguing often leads to saying unthinkable words and among all the things you've been yelling at each other in the last hour, some bad words have certainly escaped, but nothing so terrible.

You feel a pain in your chest never felt before, deep and intense, and even the tears stop flowing. You inhale deeply, seeking relief in a breath of air and waiting for your body to react in any way, all is better than feeling full of pain. The room starts spinning, your head feels full and empty at the same time, and your legs struggle to bear the weight of your body.

Calum carefully scans your face, looking for any reaction from you to understand how much your mind has absorbed his words. His stress, his worries have led him to be a different person and the fear that you may leave him has terrified him, but his insecurities have done the opposite of what one expects, making he walk away from you and treating you coldly, and now he fears that he is really on the verge of being alone, with his broken heart in his hands, ready to mend every wound himself.

You didn’t deserve this.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” You whisper, lifting your face and looking him straight in the eye. The words he used, the coldness of his tones and the loneliness in which he left you have piled on top of each other on your chest, making it difficult for you to even breathe. You need time, space, whatever helps you figure out what to do.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a shaky voice. His eyes are glossy, his hands are shaking and his face has lost color. His heart carries so much goodness and you know it wasn't his intention to hurt you, but his words were like stab wounds and you need to take care of them now.

You don't want to leave, and not because you can't take a plane, but because Calum means too much to you and leaving is not an option to consider. If it ever ends up between you, after all you've been through, it should be in a more dignified way and not because of a stupid fight and insincere words.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room for a while and then we’ll see what to do.” Is all you can say and all you can do.

“So you’re not leaving?”

“I don’t think so, at least not now.”

Silence.

And that silence means everything and nothing.

You pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and, after casting one last look at the boy in front of you, you take refuge in a room that doesn't belong to you. The air in the guest room is different, you can't breathe the love that characterizes every corner of yours and Calum's and even the sheets seem different, cold, painful. You put a hand through your hair and lean on the door, slowly sliding towards the floor and letting go of your frustration.

Calum closes his eyes and puts his hands to his face as his body slumps onto the sofa behind him. The house reigns in silence, the only audible sound is your sobs in another room and, before he knows it, he starts crying too. He doesn't care about wiping his face or stopping the moans that come out of his mouth, he deserves to feel awful and humiliate himself like that, the guilt is devouring him and he just thinks about how he wishes he could disappear, to make your life easier.

When you first met, he knew you were the right person from the first look you gave him. Behind your eyes, deep in the irises, there was a whole world, made of kindness, love and joy. You had your demons, but the strength you emanated made it clear that you were able to overcome them, even without knowing it. A world that he wanted to discover, with delicacy and patience, and in which he wanted to live.

But what he feared most was bringing darkness into the light you emanated, turning your smiles into tears and your heart into a mass of sharp pieces.

He had told you, while you were eating some heated pizza on a rainy morning, your legs were on his and your face on his shoulder. And you had caressed his face, wiping away the dirt on his lip with your thumb, assuring him that you would have love him anyway and that you would have happily shared some of your light, and then you had kissed him, and that kiss tasted like tomato sauce and love, a combination you still love with all your heart.

And now, the only thing he can do, besides pitying himself, is wondering if you're regretting sharing your joy with him, if you'd rather stay full of light instead of welcoming his demons. And he fears your answer is yes.

Duke rubs his face on his leg, asking for scratches but also showing his affection. He doesn't know what happened and Calum wonders if the dog, who loves you more than any other person has crossed the threshold of your home, would look at him differently knowing that he broke the heart of the person he loves most.

If so, as his mind is trying to convince him, he couldn't handle it. He would not be able to live knowing that he has let down another being he cares about. Because he cares about you, but it is difficult for him to show it, the fear of rejection is stronger than he would like.

So, he lowers himself a little and gently strokes the dog, hoping to be able to receive that affection he is so afraid of losing.

As Calum's world shatters before his eyes, you take care to gently reassemble what's left of yours. You're still on the floor, getting up takes too much energy and a motivation that you can't find.

How you feel about the guy down the hall cannot be described in words, there is no way to describe what his gaze makes you feel, the way his words reassure you or how his love warms your heart up. It just works like this. Your love does not need big gestures or difficult words and never like now, it is better to absorb the silence and be lulled by the air.

Perhaps it would have been better to remain silent, let the cold of his words slip on you and learn to live in the loneliness in which he left you, but you couldn't go on like this. Not fighting would have meant not caring about him or your relationship and that's exactly the opposite of how things are. He had to know how you felt and what you were missing.

The sweet sound of his voice or the warmth of his skin are essential for you, not only on a love level, but in the daily routine of your life. A routine that had changed, which was no longer full of joy and smiles, light and perfume, but of demons that wandered undeterred around the walls of your home, ready to bring the cold into your souls.

And that routine, once full of love, was now non-existent. No more words had been said between you, no meal had been eaten together and your bed had forgotten what love meant. The stars, ever present witnesses of the passion that surrounded your bodies, were now always absent, covered by gray clouds and black skies. Even the moon, which guards all lovers, shone with a paler and more blurred light.

The moon gave way to the sun, the grass grew and the days alternated on the calendar. And yet, it seemed to you that you were still still that afternoon. Sure, breathing had become less difficult and the tears had stopped flowing on your face, but even in the middle of spring the coldness brought chills on your body.

You have no idea what he is doing, occasionally you see the shadow of his shoes behind the door of the guest room or you hear broken melodies coming from the studio, but his face becomes more and more unknown.

You spend your days studying, working, playing with Duke or reading your favorite books. You wake up late and go to sleep early, hoping to feel less lonely.

The truth, however, is that you miss him immensely, like water in the desert or milk after eating spicy food. You need to be able to get lost in his eyes or just hold his hand. The headache meds don't work like his kisses on your forehead, and no number of blankets could bring you the same warmth that a hug from him gives off.

You feel so pathetic to need him by your side, but after so many years of loneliness, he was able to convince you that you were worthy of being loved just like everyone else and, specifically, that he would love you more than anyone else. And he had done it, always and anyway, for the sake of the joyful news and the bad of your depression, he had always been there, ready to show you that you were worth it.

He wants to do it, he wants to continue to hold you and to tell you how beautiful you are, how honored he feels to be the keeper of your heart and the champion of your love, but he believes that no apology would bring serenity to your sky.

What is he supposed to do? No words would express the humiliation he feels whenever he thinks back to your fight and his behavior, no hug or kiss would bring love into your broken heart.

He spent his nights awake, the insomnia caused by his thoughts was making it impossible for him to live. The table seemed too big and the bed too uncomfortable, the bass was always out of tune even as he spent hours adjusting its strings and no melody seemed catchy enough to lift your mood in the other room. He knew that when you were sick, listening to him play brought some peace to your troubled world, but now no sound would chase the bad weather away.

None of his gestures would be enough to show how bad he feels. Nothing can express the pain he feels and the regret of his words.

However, 3 years of relationship is enough for him to know what makes you smile. There is one song in particular, in the immense repertoire that is your music library, that you love to hum and listen to when the silence is too loud.

So, wearing his best shirt and trying to fix the clump of his hair, he sits down at the piano in the living room and, after taking a deep breath, he tries to voice his thoughts.

Sweet creature

Had another talk about where it's going wrong

But we're still young

We don't know where we're going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

As you put down your favorite book after reading it again, Calum's sweet, broken voice spreads throughout the house, bringing a sense of comfort to your heart. You can hear the pain behind his voice, and even though you know your wounds will take some time to heal, the words he screamed at you lose their value. One part of you is still angry but the other, curious and in love, wastes no time getting you out of bed and walking towards the room.

The piano overlooks the garden, the sun shines above and illuminates all the plants. Duke is chasing a butterfly, its tail wags quickly and some leaves are stuck in its fur. Calum has his back to you, his back leaning slightly forward as he looks outward, but his mind wanders somewhere else.

You lean on the door jamb that separates the two rooms and close your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the music and breathing regularly, giving your body respite from all the accumulated stress.

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

Sweet creature

We're running through the garden

Oh, where nothing bothered us

But we're still young

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

Calum watches the garden as the lyrics of the song automatically come out of his mouth. He was never good at playing the piano but, during the nights spent away from you over the years, he promised himself to learn all your favorite songs so he could sing them to you whenever you needed them.

And while Duke rolls around in the grass, he can't help but think about the thousand picnics you had on that same lawn, the laughter you shared and all those moments when he always fell in love a little more looking at you.

And even if the song doesn't belong to him, he can still feel every single word and a small tear falls down his face.

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

I know, it's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You take a few steps forward and, after taking a deep sigh, sit next to him. Calum winces at the contact but his face turns into a big smile after seeing you. He doesn't know if you're still mad at him or if his singing worked, but being able to see you again after so many days spent in agony brings a sense of peace to his messed up world. He knows that this song is not enough, that he will have to prove a lot more to you - even if you will probably forbid it - but knowing that he has you there, frees him from a weight that he carried inside.

And as usual, there is no need for words, he just needs to feel your head resting on his shoulder to know that you have come back to him. And when your hands touch his, he feels at home again.

Almost automatically, your hands begin to move to the rhythm of the music and your fingers touch the keys of the piano, accompanying Calum in the melody, just as he taught you.

Duke is rolling in the grass, the butterfly now forgotten, and his happy face is illuminated by the sun. It seems that the sky has returned to shine too, not just your eyes, and the pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly again.

I know when we started

Just two hearts in one home

It gets harder when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You'll bring me home

There was no need to talk to him, or to explain, risking losing you was necessary for him to understand that something was wrong, that he had to find the right path, that you can risk skidding, the important thing is getting back on track.

“I am grateful to your mother for bringing you into the world, but even more grateful to you for being a part of my life. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. I love you and I always will.” He whispers, placing his hands on his thighs, as soon as he finishes singing the last words. His words are sincere, you can perceive the displeasure behind his tone and you know he believes what he says.

He kisses you on the forehead and, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, he rests his face on your head, closing his eyes and absorbing the silence, a cautious silence, full of peace and fresh air.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes in turn and letting yourself be lulled by the peace and serenity found. You know that everything will be fine, that even if you’ll have other fights, you will always find a way to get back to each other.

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum imagine #calum x reader #calum hood x you #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton 5 seconds of summer #luke 5 seconds of summer #michael 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos

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en-amours · 3 years

Text

loser (affectionately).

☼ park sunghoon x reader; pure fluff, established relationship au.

sometimes, the definition of love is really just laughing over your soulmate nearly falling on their face and challenging them to a racing competition in a public ice rink (where everyone is prone to accidents).

warnings: none

notes: this is what happens when you indulge too much in what was supposed to be just a quick bullet scenario but kept on returning to it until it became a full-fledged drabble :D this is sunghoon’s part in the “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad” req i’m writing! hope y’all enjoy <3

♡ — taglist: @yoshinung @cyberhwng (tumblr won’t let me tag y’all for some reason :<) @stargirlstories @lovelycharm05 @honeyju

wordcount: 1.1k

Being with Park Sunghoon feels like getting whisked into the streets of a city brimming with life and light; like witnessing the first breath of winter unfurl upon the shimmering rooftops of your hometown; the sweet rush of euphoria as the wind breaks through your hair on impulsive afternoon drives, skyline in view—it’s been two summers, but he still takes your breath away like the first time you met on that lonely spring day.

You cannot describe half of the magic he invokes in your chest when you meet his eyes, when he intertwines his hands with yours as he walks with you along the streets populated with fragrant honeysuckles into the quaint café tucked behind the old bookstore downtown, when you see his eyes turn into crescent moons in a solemn spot beside the Han River, or any moment you share with him in these spontaneous little meet-ups when time finally decides to spare a little mercy to one more pair of starcrossed lovers. Even if you try, there is nothing more impossible than describing all the things Sunghoon makes you feel.

That and you think he’s an absolute monster for laughing at you as you try to avoid your near-death, you hurl your glove at his face, holding onto the rare space near the railings in your town’s public rink, and Sunghoon’s laughter ceases as your glove hits him square in the face.

“Deserved,” you state, gaining enough balance to push away from the barrier, you deliver a gentle slap to his shoulder with a half-hearted glare. “Boyfriends are supposed to help you out when you nearly get run over by a group of prepubescent kids, not laugh at your demise.”

“I just thought that your vision wasn’t as bad as I thought it was,” he reasons with a smug smile, putting your glove back on, but his hand doesn’t leave yours. “Plus, weren’t you an athlete before?”

“I haven’t been on the ice since the ninth grade, genius,” you huff, “it won’t come rushing back to me after a minute of skating around.”

Gently, Sunghoon pulls you closer, and you will never get used to seeing his eyes in close proximity, how they sparkle softly beneath the blinding luminance of a thousand dangling lights, yet you think it isn’t the lights that’s making him brighter. Your breath hitches, and he breaks into a smile. “But you’re okay now, right?”

“Y-Yeah. Why? What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure,” he shrugs, and you try to assess his nonchalance, but he is skillful in calibrating his façade so you drop your efforts, and as snow graces the world in gentle whirls, joy paints his ribs golden and his heart plays a rapid boomboomboom because he’s seeing his two greatest loves together and warmth settles between his ribs and says, I am home.

—————

Ten minutes have never felt this short before.

Quietly, you marvel over the unbridled excitement that glazes Sunghoon’s eyes, that pools in his palms and taints his cheeks in a lovely glow. His steps are a ghost of all the programs he’s inscribed into his bones, he flashes you a grin after he performs a spin, and you’re about to commend him when a kid whizzes past you at Sonic-level speed, hysterical with laughter. Thus begins the formation of an idea.

“...woah,” Sunghoon breathes out as returns beside you, but both of your eyes still follow the kid, “I hope they don’t slip—or accidentally run over someone’s hand.”

“Yeah… that’d be disastrous,” there’s a clip of anticipation in your tone, and Sunghoon shares an expectant look with you. Silence. But then you ask:

“Wanna race me?”

He starts bolting along the sides of the rink without warning, the implication of a competition enough to propel him forward without any remorse; with an outraged cry, you follow suit.

(In hindsight, maybe going against a former speed skater is a bad idea but Sunghoon would rather lick the pavement than let you—his universe, the love of his life—think that he was giving up easily.)

You catch up to him quickly, the cold wind biting your cheeks raw, but hearing Sunghoon’s laugh feels like liquid electricity in your veins. “You know you’re going to lose so hard, right?”

“As if I’d ever let that happen,” he huffs, nimbly dodging a wobbly couple, and you chuckle softly.

“It’s cute how you think you can beat me.”

Your words add more coal to the fire, but part of Sunghoon is surreptitiously delighted that you think he’s cute. “Ooh, you just wanna kiss me so bad, don’t you?”

After two minutes you end up beating him anyway, and you come up to him with a grin that makes him think he can hold the world in his bare hands (are you even aware of the things you do to him? And even if you are, would you still have been this cruel?).

“I told you so,” you grin, hands fixing your scarf; Sunghoon sees the little chips and scars littering your skin, and he realizes that he’s grown to love everything about you all the same—he adores all of you. and he hates that he does. He hates how he loves you so much (he doesn’t).

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

You laugh at him softly, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. his panting has transmuted into quiet breaths, and he is just as captivating as the first time you saw him—you let your hands fall to his waist, fingers dancing along to a vague holiday tune playing over bass-boosted speakers. Sunghoon traces your jaw, and he retracts his hand because his touch might make you colder, but your own one shoots up to keep his in place, wanting to keep him closer.

“You were right,” you whisper, half-defeated, half-elated by this revelation: “I do wanna kiss you. So, so bad.”

There it is again: that stupid, toothy grin of his. You didn’t ever think you would ever learn to love someone like this, but boy, you’ve fallen hard.

(Little do you know that Sunghoon has, too.)

He presses his lips against yours, softly, tentatively, and though maybe the world is just a speck of light in a macrocosm of galaxies, you are worth more than that.

You are worth everything.

When you pull away, Sunghoon laughs incredulously at your expression. “What's with the face? I thought you won?”

“Yeah, I did, but I’m also a loser in a way,” you frown, glaring half-heartedly at your soulmate.

“How so?”

“It’s you, idiot. I’m a loser for you,” a sigh leaves your mouth, and Sunghoon giggles; he places your foreheads together, and there is nothing more beautiful than him.

“That's alright, you and I can be losers together.”

#enhypennetwork #enhypenwriters #enhypen #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon fluff #enhypen sunghoon #this one’s for u sunghoon stans + ppl who have a massive crush on him

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Text

Not teeeechnically a “request”, but it’s a prompt I’ve been wanting to do for a while, so here we go. Just as @direwolfspostsrandomshit described, but the setting is your guy comes home to see you showing off the new outfit. Also, this includes Weaver and Naga as bonuses bc I love them 😌😌

Adler

You wouldn't know to look at him, especially behind those dark sunglasses, but his heart starts hammering immediately

"Uh, what's all this for?", He chuckles nervously

You tell him you were just trying it on, but you're not sure if you like it

"Why not? It looks stunning on you"

Oh really?

"Well you sure stunned me", he smiles and pulls you in by the waist

Adler kisses you and runs his hands up and down your bare skin

He loves how much there is to feel

With one more kiss, he slips the tip of his thumbs under the little hem of your shirt

Hudson

"I uh, don't suppose you know how to take this off...?"

Maybe you can show him ;)

I'm sorry, but I KNOW y'all cannot look me in the eye and tell me that good old clean cut Hudson doesn't secretly have some SERIOUS kinks and fantasies

One of those kinks is definitely a huge thirst for curvy women lmao

You have him on his knees panting as it is, but to come home to you in that?

WOOF WOOF BARK BARK AWOOOOO

However, like Adler, Hudson is the master of the poker face

Too bad his blushing cheeks betray him

Now that is a rare sight indeed

You feel a bit more confident in your outfit, just by seeing how excited it's made Hudson

"Where'd you get that?", he tries to hide the blush by swiping at his face a little

You decide to have a little fun and saunter up to him, looking absolutely stunning

You tell him it's thrifted, but that's not of any importance right now

His skin feels hot to the touch as you cup his cheek and give him a kiss

At last he can't keep his hands to himself any longer, exploring every inch of exposed skin and gorgeous curves as he does so

You're going to be there for a while ;)

Lazar

Ok, first off, Lazar knows you struggle with body image issues and he does his best to support you!

So to see you working it in a cute little number like that is 👀👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Besides, obviously he thinks your body is lovely!!

"Wow, you look amazing!"

You whip around, looking quite surprised to see him

Lazar continues on his way over, your outfit is even better from the front

You ask him if he really thinks so

You're more then nervous in this get up, but you've come to really trust his opinion and ego boosts

"Fuck yeah I do!", he picks you up easily and gives you a spin

He kisses your nose and then your lips before gently returning you to the ground

Lazar takes one look at you and your crop top and then one at his torso

"Say, you think they have any of those in my size?", the big guy laughs

You laugh too, but you're not entirely sure if he's joking

Mason

He's absolutely stunned!

Alex thinks you absolutely own in every outfit you wear, but he's never seen you in something so revealing before 👀

You ask him if he likes it, but all he can do is stumble over his words

He can't take his eyes off that cute crop top

You're starting to think maybe he doesn't like it, since he can't seem to find anything to say

But finally he manages to tell you it looks great on you

It's not much, but you're starting to pick up that he may be a little shy in your presence while wearing such a cute outfit

He smiles and walks up to you, "Um, it looks really great, actually heh"

His hand caresses your hip and and nuzzles your check

"Do you think you could wear it more often?"

You know what?

You just might :)

Naga

He fucking DIES

Seriously, like I headcannon that Naga love a thicc Queen™ soooo hard, like I think he'd short circuit lol

For the sake of some sort of civilized manners, he asks some throw away question like where you got the outfit or something as he walks right up to you

He pulls you in for an embrace to greet you while you moodily answer his question

He's not listening however

Instead, he runs his hand from your hip up to the curve of your bust

The silk of the fabric is cool against his fingers, and they shake a little in excitement

You don't even get to finish your sentence

With a scoff and a roll of the eye, you shoo his hand away and scold him, trying but failing to conceal your laughter

He begs and promises you whatever you want if you let him take you to the bedroom in that little get up

Tsk, naughty boy

Sims

His mouth falls open the second he sees you

He whistles and howls, making you jump a little when you turn around

"Damn baby, that looks amazing on you!"

You tell him thanks, but you're not a big fan of the low rise pants. They show off you tummy to much, you think

He makes a face like he's upset anyone could think that about you, even yourself

Sims brings you in for a hug and he kisses your forehead, arms gently locked around your waist

"Naw, you look gorgeous", he kisses you again, "in fact, come on, lets go show that little number off! Make some people jealous", he laughs

You're not sure, buuuuuut...

He seems so confident in you that you can almost feel confident in yourself

At last you agree and run off for your shoes

Woods

You definitely earn yourself a collection of admirers that night

Weaver

Hoooooo boy

Weaver is about to combust

Unfortunately, Weaver is also Weaver so he doesn't know how to express it

He can't even speak he's so overwhelmed!!

You give him the usual hey, how was work stuff

He tries, but still no coherent words

Thankfully for him, this isn't a total disaster

You know him well enough by now to know he only gets like this when he's surprised

You gesture to your outfit and ask if he likes it

He nods fervently, unable to take his eyes off that little crop top

You roll your eyes and give a little laugh as you walk over to kiss him

"Thanks", you say

He feels inordinately warm under your touch

He gulps, hands a little shaky as he reaches up to touch your waist

"Y-yeah", is all he can manage

Just give him a minute :p

A very similar initial reaction to Sims tbh

"Oooo hooo... Fuck yeah! Where you going sexy?"

You blush and respond that you were actually about to go change out of this, you're just not sure it suits you

Woods has put up his coat by now, but he hasn't taken his eyes off of you once

"What? Why? You look amazing!"

He comes over and cops a little feel of your sequined booty

You jump and laugh a little, while he nuzzles your neck

You're still not 100% sold on it, but you tell him maybe it's alright just for the house...

"Heh, sounds good to me", he waggles his eyebrows at you

He'll encourage you to wear it out if you want to, but he's the jealous kind and he knows for sure you'll be drawing quite the fanclub in a stunning look like that

But it's alright, you can wear what you want where you want ofc

He knows how to fight :)

#black ops cold war #call of duty #russell adler x reader #alex mason x reader #frank woods x reader #grigori weaver x reader #naga x reader #kapano vang x reader #lawrence sims x reader #jason hudson x reader #lazar x reader #eleazar azoulay x reader #curvy!reader

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phantomrose96 · 4 years

Text

King

cw: heavy angst, non-canon character death, violent imagery, emetophobia

It’s pretty long, so heed the Read More.

...

Bakugou is sitting in the police station.

Time isn’t moving forward with him. It has a hand over his mouth holding him back, holding him down, beneath the surface of the unreal waters which suspend him. All sounds reach his ears muffled. The phone ringing, and the station hand answering. Chatter, officers exchanging details, Bakugou winces at the utterance of the word “explosion”. None of it is real. None of it can be happening to him.

He jangles the handcuffs on his wrist, and this attracts the weary attention of the station hands. The cuffs aren’t necessary. He is not going anywhere. He sits, and he stares forward, and his ears ring.

Bakugou has fucked up. Bakugou understands for the first time in his life the sensation of fucking up beyond repair. He is watching dreams evaporate in front of his eyes, staring forward unseeingly at the pallid white floor tiles around him. His eyes trace their lines. He does not see them. They are not real. He is not real. He has fucked up. He has fucked up.

Behind his eyelids, a single image burns. It is branded into his eyes. The scorched wick of a torso lingers there, shifting to a negative impression of itself with each blink. A torched wick, balanced on disembodied legs, falling forward. Falling forward. Falling forward. Falling forward again with each blink. It’s a sight he has no way to unsee.

His heart rate picks up. His breathing comes faster and shallower. He says nothing. He has fucked up. He has fucked up, and he can never fix this.

Because he is still, and because he is silent, no one pays him any mind.

…

A man walks into the precinct. He is just a bit portly, immaculately dressed in a suit and tie. He shrugs off the tweed overcoat, leaving just vest and undershirt and tie, and hangs it with familiarity on the coat rack by the entrance. He lifts his bowler’s hat in greeting, and overlapping responses greet him from the precinct office. “Fujimori” is uttered, affably. He extends a hand, and several workers shake it with a smile. A joke is cracked. A chorus of deep belly laughs follow. The man with the bowler’s hat – Fujimori – calms his mirth and asks one of the officers about his kids, and when the idle chatter ends, he asks where his client is.

Fingers point toward Bakugou. Fujimori lumbers over, with a confidence that reminds Bakugou of lions, his face at ease. Fujimori lowers himself to a squat so he is eye level with Bakugou.

“I’m Hiroji Fujimori. I’m a lawyer with U.A. You’ve had a hell of a day, huh, Katsuki Bakugou? Why don’t I help get those handcuffs off and get you home for some rest?”

Bakugou looks up. He hears the words, but his ears are still ringing, so he clearly has not heard them correctly. It sounded like the man said he was going home.

“Home?” Bakugou asks.

“Well, the U.A. dorms. Under protective custody but, I promise, you won’t even notice.”

“I’m not going home,” Bakugou responds. He isn’t sure it’s his own voice speaking, or his own lips moving.

“Oh? Got somewhere else you’re headed?”

“Jail.”

Fujimori lets out a deep laugh, the kind that rumbles his whole body. He fans himself briefly with the casefile in hand. “Right. Right right right, no one’s given you the run-down. Ease back those shoulders, son, you’re not headed to jail. Chin up! Try for a smile. This isn’t my first rodeo.” He offers a nod back to the officers. “Ain’t that right?”

There’s a chorus of agreement. Bakugou is looking, but not processing. His mind hangs on “not headed to jail.”

“…When am I going to jail, then?”

“Hopefully never! Not very becoming of a U.A. Hero to be doing time, hmm? Come on. There’s a car waiting out front for you. Let’s gather up your stuff and get you home. Bet you’re dying for something more comfortable than this chair, and these cuffs. Hell, I bet you want nothing more than a night in your own bed right now. Poor boy,” and Fujimori angles his head over his shoulder, “just how many hours have you lot kept him all tied up here, hmm? A touch reprehensible.”

Fujimori is wrong. Bakugou is not thinking about his bed or rest or sleep. Nor is he concerned with how many hours he’s been sitting at the precinct – though it’s been several. He has not thought about those things because time has not restarted. Because there is no future of his to consider with a bed and rest and sleep, not with the unfixable thing he’s done.

Bakugou says none of what he’s thinking. He’s uncharacteristically uncapable of trying. So he silently stands when Fujimori motions him to, and follows as Fujimori takes him back to the precinct desk, where Fujimori strikes up another amicable conversation with the officer in possession of the keys.

…

Back at the dorms, Bakugou showers off the smell of flesh that isn’t his own. He crawls into his U.A. bed for what he is sure is the last time. Hours pass staring at the ceiling, until Bakugou slips into dreams which play back his own last calamitous explosion to him a few dozen more times.

…

Fujimori is waiting for him the next morning, parked alongside the grass outside with the dew brushing along the footboard of his Mercedes. He is wearing a different suit today, a darker one, and he is holding two steaming cups of coffee, one which he offers to Bakugou. Bakugou takes it, though he isn’t sure why. The feeling of heat soaking into his palm is abhorrent.

“How’d you sleep?” Fujimori asks. His attendant opens the back-left passenger door for Bakugou. Bakugou stares. He does not answer, and he does not get in. Fujimori continues. “We’ll just be headed into the office for a few hours this morning. Some of my colleagues would like to meet you and hash over some details from yesterday. Might ask you to sign a few papers, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Fujimori gets in the back-right passenger door. The attendant takes the wheel. Once settled, Fujimori cranks up the AC and fans himself with the documents in his hand. He motions for Bakugou to get in as well. This time, Bakugou complies. Fujimori leans over and shuts the car door for him.

“You said you’re a U.A. lawyer?” Bakugou finally asks. He grips the coffee too tightly in his lap. He’s wearing his U.A. uniform, with the pants hitched up correctly. It’s what he was ordered to wear.

“Sure am. Going on 20 years this September. Y’know, I’ve got a son a little bit younger than you. HUGE fan of the U.A. Sports Festival. I get tickets and bring him every year. You were his top-ringer, favorite by a mile. Your victory over that Todoroki kid—

“Stop.”

“Hmm?”

“Stop.”

“Ah, sports festival a sour subject with you, son? As I recall you did end up restrai—”

“No. Stop being so casual. And friendly. Like this. Sports festival. Sports festival?! Like that’s ever going to matter again!” Bakugou’s voice builds toa crescendo, pent up horror spilling from his mouth like a faucet. “It’s cruel, don’t you think, to make me talk about U.A. like I’m ever coming back.”

“Hey now, the way I see it you’ve still got another two full years at that school before they’re done with you.”

“If you think that then you don’t know what happened yesterday. What kind of lawyer are you who doesn’t even know—”

“I know your case file forward and back, son. I’m no amateur. In fact, I’m very very skilled at what I do.”

“Then you know that I k—”

“—Calculated an unwinnable risk, and acted under extreme duress, and fear for you own life, in the face of a paralyzingly dangerous situation. And I know that your actions were necessary to ensure the safety of yourself and all others in the area.” Fujimori raises his own coffee to his lips and drinks from it, leaving the both of them to ruminate in the whir of the A.C. “An admirable and heroic act, with a tragic but unavoidable outcome.”

Bakugou feels colder, in a part of himself untouched by the A.C.

“…It wasn’t like that,” he whispers.

“I assure you it was, boy.”

The car blinker clicks on. They hang a left. Bakugou fixes his eyes out the window, watching the world spin by him. There’s an anger like solid ice encasing his heart, the kind he cannot act on, the kind that paralyzes him in his seat, the kind he’d only felt once before – when All Might lost his power for him – that Bakugou had vowed to never feel again.

Self-hatred. Ice instead of fire. That is what makes it so paralyzing.

“…Why are you representing me?”

“Because U.A. requested that I do.”

“And why would U.A. care? This wasn’t a U.A. mission. This didn’t have anything to do with them.”

Fujimori turns and offers him a warm smile. His face is disarming, and gentle, and grandfatherly, and he extends a hand to pat Bakugou on the shoulder.

“Come now, I think you’re a sharp enough boy to figure out the answer to that question.”

…

Bakugou leaves the office numb again. His memories of the incident feel hazier now. They feel less his own. He’s been asked to hold on to someone else’s construction, to coddle it in his mind until he believes it is his own. He needs to sew it back into himself. And forget his own memories. And move on.

Six hours have passed since he walked into the conference room with Fujimori, met with a half-dozen other lawyers whose names and faces all escape him now. He’s been asked too many times to describe the villain’s face, to describe man’s dress and his expression and his body language. Bakugou no longer trusts any memory he has of face, and body, and dress, and name.

Bakugou does not remember what, precisely, the villain said to him. He does not remember how he said it or why. Or how the villain had used his quirk, or how many times, or how close to Bakugou. Bakugou knows with certainty the villain had smashed him into the pavement, because it is that white-hot rage he felt in response that is seared into the memory behind his eyelids, like an after-image in the wake of an atom bomb.

The missing details, the absent paint strokes in his memory, have been helpfully filled in for him. Bakugou has been informed by the half-dozen lawyers that the villain had attacked him first, and with such bloodlust and such aggression that Bakugou had acted purely, and only, in defense of himself. Bakugou has been informed that the contusions to the back of his skull, documented at the police station, and the abrasions along his arms and legs and back all constitute intense physical trauma, from the villain who struck first, against Bakugou who had every reason to fear for his life.

Bakugou has been informed that the villain was a scoundrel, a lowlife, a man with a record and no family and no ties to the community.

Bakugou ruminates on all these new elements he’s been told to graft into his memory, as the car vibrates beneath him and Fujimori makes idle one-sided chatter on their ride back to U.A. All these memories meld together, such that Bakugou cannot pick apart what is his own, and what is not. He stares into the blood-red setting sun over the horizon, and he realizes he never will be able to.

There were no witnesses. There were no cameras. The only other man, who might otherwise have had the chance to defend himself, is dead.

…

Bakugou showers again. He already showered this morning. Bakugou tells himself it is because he’s been out all day. He doesn’t let himself consider what about the outing has made him feel so unclean.

So he doesn’t think about it, and he scrubs off the phantom lingering smells of burnt flesh from his body, and towels off, and changes into sweats. Alone in his room, with the blood red of the setting sun eking through his window, Bakugou considers going right to bed. His eyes shift to the clock beside his bed. It’s 5pm, and he hasn’t eaten yet today.

Bakugou stands, indecisive, and moves to the door.

When he opens it, he sucks in a sharp breath. Todoroki is standing at his doorway, leaning ever so slightly against the wall, his appraising eyes roving once over Bakugou before he straightens up entirely.

“Move,” Bakugou says.

“Where did you go with Fujimori this morning?”

Bakugou balks, only for an instant. He shoves past Todoroki, and sets his focus on navigating to the dorm kitchen. “Who?”

“The lawyer. I saw from the window. You were talking to him. You got in his car. And you’ve been gone the whole day until now.”

“What do you care?” Bakugou picks up his pace. Todoroki matches it.

“Because it’s Fujimori.”

“I don’t know what that means. Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“What did he want with you? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Fuck off.”

“Tell me.”

Bakugou stops cold and whirls on Todoroki. He feels his hand twitch, but he thinks better of it.

“It’s from my work study. It’s confidential. I can’t tell you, and I wouldn’t tell you anyway. We’re not friends. You don’t demand things from me. Fuck. Off.”

Bakugou takes off again.

“Fujimori…” Todoroki trails off. He hustles to keep himself in lock step with Bakugou, flanking him, refusing to be shaken off. “Just tell me why it’s Fujimori then.”

“Again, I do not fucking know what that question means. Why the fuck do you expect me to know anything? Do I look like a lawyer? Go bug Deku, you clingy piece of shit.”

“Did I hear my name?”

Bakugou rounds the corner, Todoroki in tow, and he finds himself face to face with Midoriya. Midoriya has one eyebrow quirked, hair wet from his own shower, grasping a glass of water in his hands. Midoriya’s eyes flicker between Bakugou and Todoroki.

“What… are you two up to? Uh, something fun?”

“Good.” Bakugou grabs Midoriya by the shoulders, lifts him, and spins halfway around in place. He plants Midoriya back down as a human divide between himself and Todoroki. “Deku’s here. Go bug each other.”

Midoriya looks back and forth between Bakugou and Todoroki. Worry creases his brow. “Um, okay? Is there something you wanted to talk to me about, Todoroki?”

Bakugou glances for a fraction of a second at the kitchen, and curses under his breath, and turns in place, and shoves past Todoroki and Midoriya. He stalks back to his room, where he slams the door shut and locks it. He throws himself onto his bed and buries his face in his pillow, not bothering with the lights.

There’s muffled chatter in the hall. There are footsteps pattering overhead. There is a world outside his room that has spun on without him.

The question ‘why Fujimori?’ sits like a rock in Bakugou’s chest, and he rips the pillow out from beneath himself, pressing it over his head completely.

It’s fully dark now. Bakugou has no intention of moving from bed.

It is 5:07 pm.

…

Bakugou remembers very few details from the incident, anymore.

His memories are more like wispy embers, and they burn, and they flash-ignite without warning. He remembers heat, humidity, sapping sweat dripping down his hairline and curving along his nose. Heaving breath like a swelling knife wound in his bruised chest cavity. The viscous wetness of blood mingling and running in spider veins down his cheek, to the corner of his mouth, where it painted his teeth and tasted coppery on his tongue.

He remembers rage, white hot, swamping his mind. He remembers uproarious indignation that anyone could fell him like that, crack his head open on the concrete like that, knock the air from his lungs like that, make him taste his own blood like that. He remembers his every breath being a wheezing effort. He remembers the sun searing him, blisteringly bright, when he could manage to pry his eyes open to the spinning sky above. He remembers a ringing that stole all sound from his ears.

Bakugou no longer knows anything past that. His memories aren’t his own. The ones that were are overwritten, or buried, deformed beneath the crushing weight of denial. But he hadn’t meant to. He knows he hadn’t meant to. It has to be that he hadn’t meant to.

A slamming at his door tears him from his hazy half sleep. Bakugou sits bolt-upright, and his heart is slamming in his throat.

“Yo, dude, you get dinner yet? I haven’t seen you like all day. What’s up?”

Bakugou blinks, bleary-eyed, and the clock at his bedside swims into view. It’s 8:47 pm.

Bakugou lays back down. His every nerve remains on fire.

“Go away, I’m sleeping.”

Bakugou can sense the hesitation at the door.

“Alright,” Kirishima answers, and his voice is careful. “Catch you tomorrow then.”

…

In the common area, Kirishima walks in with his fingers threaded through his loose hair, his motions agitated, and he falls onto the couch beside Midoriya.

“Yo, hey, Midoriya, you know Bakugou pretty well, yeah? Do you think something’s like, up with him?”

Midoriya looks up from his phone. Iida, sitting on the adjacent couch, slams his book shut with entirely too much force. “Bakugou had an excused absence from class today! I can confirm this, if you are worried he is shirking from his student duties.”

“Nah nah – I mean – maybe that’s part of it, I dunno. But it’s not just that he wasn’t in class but like, I haven’t seen him at all today. And I tried to go bug him just now but he shut me out.”

“Bakugou goes to bed early,” Iida continues.

“I know he does but like. I dunno. It’s different. It’s kinda reminding me of how he acted after Kamino.”

“I saw him earlier today, but just for a little bit,” Midoriya answers. “Todoroki was talking to him, then he told me to talk to Todoroki.”

“Why?”

“Um, I don’t actually know. Do you know, Todoroki?”

“I don’t know,” Todoroki answers from the floor, where he sits leaning against the couch Kirishima and Midoriya occupy. After a moment of silence, he adds in, “But it’s something bad.”

Kirishima straightens, couch springs straining beneath him. “What do you mean bad? What do you know?”

“He was with Fujimori.”

“Who’s Fujimori?” Kirishima asks. All eyes remain pinned on Todoroki, not a flash of recognition in anyone else’s face, not even Iida’s.

“He’s a U.A. lawyer.” Todoroki fidgets. “He’s… a specific kind of U.A. lawyer. I saw a lot of him, when I was very young. After Mom went away, I saw a lot of him, pretty much every day.” Subconsciously, Todoroki raises a hand to skim along the uneven skin of his left eye. “Dad was his client.”

“Oh, um, I met a couple U.A. lawyers after we rescued Eri.” Midoriya shoots a quick glance to Kirishima. “Me and Kirishima both. Bakugou’s doing a work study right now. Maybe it’s like… maybe something like Eri happened.”

Todoroki shakes his head. “You and Kirishima have not met Fujimori. Whatever U.A. lawyers you talked to, they weren’t Fujimori.”

“What makes you sure?”

Todoroki lingers in the silence. His lips part, but he says nothing immediately. He thinks long and hard on the words hanging behind his tongue. There’s a twitch along his mouth, some repressed fidget of hostility that comes slowly burning into his eyes.

“I’ve been told not to talk about Fujimori. My father has told me not to. But… I think I don’t care what my father told me.” Todoroki pushes off from the couch he is leaning on, settling toward the center of the carpet and turning in place, so that he completes a circle made of himself, Kirishima, Midoriya, and Iida. “I might still get in trouble with U.A.… But maybe I don’t care about that either.” Todoroki pauses. “Fujimori… Fujimori is a monster. Scum, the lowest and most disgusting sort of person humanity has to offer—no, not humanity. Calling human would be too generous. He’s a weapon, not a human.”

Midoriya scoots a fraction forward. His body leaks with uneasy tension. “And he’s… you said he’s someone who works for U.A.? U.A. hired him?”

“U.A. would be sunk without him,” Todoroki declares coldly. “And Fujimori… does not get involved lightly. And he would never be involved in the Eri mission, because U.A. wasn’t at fault for anything bad that happened there.”

“I…” Midoriya fidgets again, waxing uncomfortable. “I mean, um, not all the details of that mission were made public, you know. It um… that mission didn’t go as planned. I mean, I don’t… I’m not blameless, I think, for the things that went wrong.”

“Me neither,” Kirishima cuts in.

“Sir Night Eye—”

“I know Sir Night Eye died,” Todoroki responds, chillingly flat. His eyes appraise Midoriya once-over. “Did you kill Sir Night Eye?”

“No,” Midoriya answers. “Why would you even—”

“Then Fujimori was not your lawyer.”

Silence fills the room. A palpable dread sets in over them, like a blanket of fog, clammy and cold to the touch.

“What… do you think Bakugou did?” Iida asks.

“Something as bad as my father did to me and my mother,” Todoroki answers, and he does not hide the personal condemnation from his voice. “Or worse.”

…

Bakugou wakes at 6:15 am to another message from Fujimori. It requests Bakugou meet him outside once more. No dress code is specified.

Bakugou appears wearing the sweats he fell asleep in, leery eyes meeting Fujimori who stands along the same dew-swept section of street beside the U.A. dorms. Bakugou shifts furtive glances up and to the dorm windows, face racked with tension.

“People can see us from the windows,” Bakugou comments, curt.

“Does that worry you?”

“Yes. Todoroki knows you. Why the fuck does Todoroki know you?”

Fujimori lets out a good-humored chuckle. “Ah, Todoroki’s boy. Figures he may not be too fond of me.” Fujimori adjusts the suspenders digging into his shoulders. He is more casually dressed today. “Well then – here’s some excellent news for you: this will be very, very brief, so brief you don’t have to worry about being spotted with me.” Fujimori curls a smile, wide and self-satisfied on his flushed red face. “Would you like to hear another lick of good news?”

“What?”

Fujimori extends a hand, low and firm, an invite to be grasped and shaken. “All charges against you have been dropped. You’re a free man with a clean record, Katsuki Bakugou.”

Bakugou does not take Fujimori’s hand. He doesn’t so much as move. He feels as if the ringing in his ears is back. He feels again as if he’s misheard.

“…There hasn’t been a trial yet.”

“You’re right about that. We nipped it in the bud before it even reached that stage. That’s a fantastic development, because trials have their way of dragging their feet. For years, sometimes. You’re a fortunate young man.”

“How?”

“Hmm?”

“How did the charges get dropped?”

“Well I just compiled your case is all. Argued it before the district judge and the chief of police over a nice batch of chamomile tea I brewed early this morning, and they’re both exceptional, bright, reasonable men of conscience. Not one person in that room wanted to see a U.A. star’s future snuffed out before it could even begin.”

“I killed—”

“—And there’s a few weeks off, being offered to you too, courtesy of the U.A. President Nedzu himself. He wants you to take the time you need to heal from this trauma. There’s a therapist too, under U.A.’s direction, that we’d like you to meet with daily. Sorry, that part’s non-negotiable. But she’ll be good for you. You’ve been through a lot for a boy so young. Everyone just wants to see you succeed.” Fujimori steps closer, and he rests a heavy hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. “And most importantly, the events from that day are under gag order. No word of this will ever reach anyone outside that precinct or outside U.A.”

“The villain…”

“Pardon?”

“What happens to him now? With his—with the—with what’s left of him. …What happens?”

“That’s not for people like you or me to worry about. You, especially, my boy. Just focus on the happy news.” Fujimori retracts his hand, and he lumbers back toward his car. There is no attendant this time. He opens the driver’s side door and glances back to Bakugou from overtop the car. “There will be a few more meetings in the coming weeks that you’ll have to attend with my colleagues, and a few more things for you to sign, and just a few attestations. But no one will ask anything difficult of you from here-on out. The hard part’s over. Quite luckily, this may be the last you see of me.”

Fujimori tips his hat once more, and disappears into his car with the tinted windows. It’s nice—the car. It’s exceptionally too nice, and too proper, and too clean for a man like Fujimori.

The engine revs. Fujimori vanishes along with the car at the next left turn.

Bakugou is left alone in the cold clammy morning air, with the sun wicking at the grass-top dew drops mingling with the cuffs of his pants.

Time restarts for Bakugou.

Now, and only now, Bakugou feels the passing wind against his cheek, and the wetness at his ankles, and the cadence of songbirds characterized by their punctuation through time. Time is moving fast again, with him in the stream, spinning dizzyingly forward.

Fujimori is right, this news is good news, Bakugou understands that. There’s a future in front of him again. A hero path ahead of him. He can carry on. He can graduate from U.A. He can become the #1 Hero. He can surpass All Might.

Bakugou’s memory stirs.

He is stricken with the image of two eyes looking back at him, gray and befuddled, panicked and unsure. They are eyes which belong to a head, a head with belongs to a body, all atop legs too scattered to know where to run. The image is a quivering bit of prey in front of him, cowed into a quaking revolting shell. It is a thing filled with regret at the sight of the rage it spurred from Bakugou by daring to slam Bakugou into the pavement first.

Bakugou remembers pulling the pin from his gauntlet. He remembers doing it with revelry. He remembers the sweet, nigh-intoxicating high, the euphoria that came with the sense of complete command, absolute control, unchecked power, the drive to win, to win, to win.

He remembers the lock and jolt to his shoulder, now. The eruption of searing heat. The explosion ringing in his ears. And the quaking, shivering thing of prey, in a moment of panic, darting directly into the blast, when all common sense dictated that it should have darted away.

Bakugou now remembers the blast erupting into black smoke, with a smell so wretched on its wind that Bakugou had buckled on spot. Bakugou now remembers the feeling -- suddenly greasy, suddenly unclean with the blowback of the blast, suddenly sticky dripping sapping wet with—

Bakugou remembers the torched wick of a torso – with full context now, he sees it. Suspended in time. Atop legs that should not stand.

Alone now in the cold morning air, alone outside the U.A. dorms, Bakugou buckles at the waist. He doubles over, falls forward like the image so seared into his mind. He moves forward in time with the dismembered legs, both his knees and its knees hitting the ground. Bakugou’s palms strike the dew-strewn lawn, his legs sink into the wetness. He holds himself up a moment, on arms too trembling to command, with a heartbeat too slammingly loud in his ears, and he loses his stomach contents into the grass below.

…

Bakugou is in class that same day. He does not take any of the offered leave, even when Nedzu appears at his dormitory door that morning at 7:30, even when Aizawa pulls him aside at the classroom entrance to ask, in as few specifics as possible, if Bakugou really intends to be here.

Bakugou confirms both times that he’s fine, and that he’s going to class, and that he doesn’t want them to mention anything to do with this ever again.

In class, he pretends to not see when Kirishima tries to catch his attention. He pretends not to feel the cold lick of malice from Todoroki’s eyes probing his back. Hardest of all, he pretends not to notice Midoriya’s pleading look, that detestable, abhorrent disarmed expression of weakness and worry so characteristic of him.

…

The partners are presumably random, but Bakugou stares on with disgusted certainty that Midoriya’s been intentionally assigned to him for sparring practice. Each pair of students has been spread about in sparring rings around Ground Beta, ample room given between each location, such that no quirks, and no voice, could carry between any two. Only the loudspeaker affixed to the Ground Beta building issues commands to each group.

The round starts.

Bakugou squares his feet, crouched slightly, hatred burning cold in his eyes. Midoriya meets his gaze, and squares his own feet, and raises his own hands. A silent few seconds of tense nothing passes between them. Bakugou’s gauntlet-less hands itch.

“Dodge!” Bakugou barks across the makeshift arena.

Midoriya loosens his footing a fraction, confusion crawling back into his face. “You haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Well get out of the way before I do!”

“If you attack me, then I’ll dodge.”

“Well you better! Because I’m telling you to dodge!”

Midoriya blinks. Bakugou remains rooted in place. In a split second, Midoriya has bounced from his spot. He winds back a kick, the shimmer of green iridescent veins spawning like stream rivulets down his thigh, down his leg. He closes the distance between them, and Bakugou only stares back wide-eyed as Midoriya’s shin connects with his jaw.

Bakugou stumbles, face smarting, a white-hot lick of rage exploding like a cannon from within his chest. The anger swamps his mind and drowns all thought and leaves him only with the livid, licking, untamable desire to fire back.

He thrusts a palm out, arm locked in tight at the elbow, immaculately drawing Midoriya into his line of attack. Midoriya’s eyes go wide, but he is still in the air, still falling, and won’t get the chance to course correct until he hits the ground. Bakugou has the shot.

Bakugou does not take it.

Time slips around him again. Leaving him behind, knocking him at the ankles, as if he is standing knee-deep in a stream to which he does not belong. The force threatens to make him stumble. He simply stands, hand extended, the promise of an explosion sputtering behind his palm.

Midoriya lands, and Bakugou has left himself wide open.

Midoriya doesn’t take his shot either.

“Do you want to… maybe call off the fight, Kacchan?”

“No! Attack me again!” Bakugou yells, hand thrown out harder, though nothing bursts on his palms.

“I…” Midoriya hesitates. He looks around, and he lets the rivulets of power bleed away from his arms and legs. He loosens his footing, stands taller, lets the tension ease out of his body. “You know, um… After we rescued Eri, I couldn’t really do much of anything for a few days. I couldn’t even use my quirk without having to focus way too hard on it.”

“I don’t care about your stupid mission. Attack me! Attack, you damn nerd!”

“Is it… something like that for you too, Kacchan? …Is it something worse?”

“Mind your own damn business! And get out of the way before I fire at you!”

“Todoroki isn’t being too kind with his guesses. …Kirishima refuses to believe what Todoroki has to say, if that makes you feel better. But I think I know you a bit better than Kirishima, actually, and I’m not sure what to believe.”

“What makes you think I give a single shit about what Icy-Hot thinks? Or what you think?”

“Are you allowed to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“…How bad is it? The thing that happened?”

“’How bad?’” Bakugou mocks. “Not at all! Zero! Nothing! Everything got resolved this morning. Nothing’s happening. There’s nothing more to it. You can tell that to Todoroki, and tell him he can keep his prying eyes the fuck off me cuz there’s nothing more for him to see. And you can fuck off for good measure too.”

“Everything got resolved… because of Fujimori?”

“We’re still fighting. Shut up and dodge! Attack! Do something!”

“Because – what Todoroki said – is that’s what Fujimori does. He makes problems go away. No matter what. By whatever means necessary. That he’s U.A.’s ace in the hole. That U.A.’s spotless track record – its perfect reputation – for decades…” Midoriya trails off. Bakugou falters at the sight of Midoriya wiping at his own cheek with the heel of his palm. “Stupid of me, huh, Kacchan?” Midoriya says with a bitter laugh. “I just assumed U.A. put out perfect heroes, all perfect heroes. That every pro from U.A. was like All Might. That every pro from U.A. just… could never do anything wrong. I idolized all of them. Every single one of them, for being perfect heroes. I thought Endeavor was a fluke… I wonder how many Endeavors U.A. has made?”

Bakugou lets out a strangled noise. He thrusts his right palm out with force, and he fires off a blast that lights and catches, erupting outward, hurdling toward Midoriya. Midoriya dodges it with hardly any effort, a simple step to the right and the blast does not so much as lick him. Midoriya doesn’t bother striking back just yet.

“What about you, Kacchan? …It wasn’t as bad as Endeavor, was it?”

“No—it—aggh! I told Icy-Hot it wasn’t even about me. My work-study—it’s just because my work study—”

“With Moonshot, yeah?” Deku curls a hand. He lets a wick of electric green static burst in his palm, which whips his hair with its ebb and flow. “Your work study is with Moonshot right now. Moonshot’s office is small. She only has herself and three sidekicks, and none of them are U.A. graduates. You’re the only person from U.A. working there.”

Deku strikes. His attack clips Bakugou’s left side. Bakugou bears it, not so much as a noise escaping his lips. He side-steps, ducks, and slams Midoriya beneath the ribcage with enough force to knock the wind from Midoriya’s lungs.

“You always think you’re helping, you damn fucking nerd. You’re not helping! You’re just prying into shit that doesn’t concern you. It’s over. It’s done with. And I can’t talk about it anyway! So shut up, before I make you shut up.”

Midoriya pulls in a few wheezing breathes. He coughs, and straightens, and speaks along a rasp.

“Actually… I don’t even think I’m trying to help, Kacchan. I want to help you. I always do. You know that. …But I’m afraid this might be something I can’t help with, or can’t bring myself to help you with, if Todoroki is right.”

“Icy-Hot knows nothing. He’s full of hot air and conspiracy theories, and it’s none of his business. Whatever he thinks happened is wrong, and he should shut the fuck up about it.”

“Are you sure he’s wrong… King Explosion Murder?”

“Shut up.” Bakugou’s palms crackle, and he squares his feet again. “Shut up and di--… Shut up and fight me.”

Bakugou doesn’t wait for a response. He throws himself right into the fray, with the one and only goal of firing his explosions off in quick enough succession to prevent Midoriya from getting another word in.

…

“Sensei! Sensei Sensei!”

Aizawa pauses at the sound of pounding mechanical feet hitting pavement, the rumble of vibrations shaking the ground, and fence, and rubble near Ground Beta. A wetness has stirred in the air, the threat of an impending thunderstorm.

“Iida, I was just coming to collect eve—”

“There’s a fight! Uh—well of course there are fights as this is a sparing match exercise but there is a fight which is not part of the designated sparing activity I mean! I’ve come to report an incident of student violence which I witnessed! I saw it happen and promptly came to find an authority figure and luckily you’re right here but I request you accompany me back to the meeting grounds where—”

“Who?”

“Bakugou, and—”

“Midoriya,” Aizawa concludes.

Iida shakes his head, frantic, spinning on spot and motioning Aizawa to follow as his suited legs take off once more. “Not Midoriya! Todoroki…”

Aizawa falters, and then he picks up his pace to match Iida. He steels himself, and it takes no longer than 20 seconds of threading through rubble for the two of them to round the corner, and enter the scene which had already announced itself with the rising cacophony of voices from 30 feet out.

With a split-second glance, Aizawa gleans three immediate pieces of information from the gaggle of 19 assembled students standing at the center of the training ground.

One, that Bakugou has been knocked down to the pavement, soles of his shoes, seat of his pants, and palms of his hands flat to the ground, left cheek split and leaking blood, with a creeping redness threatening to swell many times over in size across the breadth of the wound.

Two, that Midoriya has grasped Todoroki from behind, his arms looped up beneath Todoroki’s armpits and locked in place in a forceful attempt to restrain Todoroki, who’s lashing against the hold.

Three, that Todoroki’s right fist is split and bleeding, and he is staring down at Bakugou with the spark of murderous intent in his eyes.

“Tell me what you mean by ‘It’s been resolved’. It’s over? Meaning Fujimori already— What did you get away with? I think I know. I think I know what you did. So tell me I’m wrong. Tell me what that scumbag let you get away with.”

Bakugou says nothing. He raises his left hand to his cheek, pressing lightly. A heavy raindrop falls from above, landing with a patter on his cheek.

Todoroki pulls against Midoriya. “Answer me!”

“Todoroki!” Aizawa shouts. He marches forward, eyes alight with his quirk activation, though there is no need for it. Neither boy has used his quirk.

“This bastard’s been meeting with Fujimori.” Todoroki thrusts a hand out, index finger extended, sharp in its accusation as he turns bodily to Aizawa. “And whatever he did, he got off scot-free this morning! He’s bragging about it!”

“Todoroki. That’s enough.”

“He needs to tell us!” Todoroki challenges. A rumble of thunder affixes itself along the end of his words, as if chorusing agreement. “How can we be comfortable calling Bakugou a classmate until we know?”

“Midoriya, you can let him go. I’ve got this under control.” Aizawa’s eye flicker to Midoriya, who blinks, and hesitantly releases his arms from Todoroki.

Todoroki looks between Aizawa and Midoriya, his confidence wavering. “Sensei, you know who Fujimori is. You have to know who he is. You’ve been at U.A. long enough.”

“Yes, I know who Fujimori is. He’s a U.A. employee. Not a villain.”

“Then you don’t know who Fujimori is.” Todoroki counters. He thrusts both hands out. “He’s the reason my mom—he’s the reason my dad—he’s the reason I—” Todoroki catches himself all three times, unable to, or perhaps forbidden from saying more.

He backtracks, calms himself, a glint of desperation lighting in his eyes. Todoroki turns in place, bodily facing Bakugou once more. “Just defend yourself. Just tell me what happened. If you’re innocent then clear your name, and just tell us what Fujimori wanted with you! Why can’t you do that? Why?”

“Todoroki that is enough. This is not like you, and it is not acceptable,” Aizawa growls this time. He stalks forward, using himself as a means of separation between the boys, and he grips Todoroki by the shoulder. “I think you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way of common rationality. My office. With me. Now.”

Todoroki appraises Aizawa, and then his eyes go wide. A few more heavy drops leak from the blackened clouds above. They plick across Todoroki’s face, riding his expression, loosening with shock.

Todoroki opens his mouth, and the energy has been sapped from his words.

“…You know. You know what it is, don’t know? You’re part of this. You really are okay with this.”

“Not another word until we reach my office, Todoroki. If you defy me, I’ll consider it grounds for suspension.” Aizawa turns in place, and he surveys the rest of the class with deathly cold eyes. “Midoriya, Iida, take Bakugou to Recovery Girl’s office. Everyone else, get back to the dorm. I don’t want to hear a word about this by tomorrow morning, understood? The threat of suspension extends to all of you.”

There is a palpable unease in the air that rides along the rumble of the clouds. The rest of the students nod, Uraraka and Asui with a prick of tears at the corner of their eyes. Wordlessly, Iida extends a hand for Bakugou to grab, and lifts him from the ground.

Kirishima throws one last worried look in Bakugou’s direction as the skies fully open. The class is caught in the downpour, the scenery effaced by a thick sheet of heavy rain. The three boys vanish from view, and Kirishima raises an arm overtop his head for cover, and he joins the others headed back to the dorm.

…

Class begins wordlessly the next day. No one dares to mention it, but everyone has noticed Todoroki’s empty desk. The threat of suspension, of following in Todoroki’s footsteps, cows everyone into compliance. Bakugou sits stiff in his own seat, his insides too mangled, his dreams too riddled with his haunting memories playing on repeat to afford him more than a few moments of uninterrupted sleep the previous night. He feels full of cotton, his stomach in knots, his brain too much a hazy mess to make sense of what’s unfolded. His jaw has swollen, hot to the touch.

Aizawa enters, his face blank and tired. He shuffles a few papers and greets the class with a monotone Good morning. Most voices echo the greeting back, but quieter, mumbled. Only Iida seems to muster the energy for a proper greeting. The downpour from the previous day has lightened, but not vanished. It plicks against the muted gray windows, sealing in the atmosphere.

“The bin for your English essays is now on the front table. Present Mic says you may turn them in any time between now and Friday. Late submissions will not be accepted.” Aizawa shuffles the papers in his hands. “Also, we have another announcement.” Aizawa nods to the doorway. Faces turn.

Shinsou stands at the entrance, face drawn into a bit of a grimace. He rubs at his neck and looks away. “Um… Hi. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. Some of you already know me.”

No one answers him, because the class already knows Shinsou, and they’re all weary of what answering him may lead to. On a different day, friendliness might have won out over fear. Today, no one can muster the optimism.

“He’s transferring into 1-A starting today. Please extend a warm welcome.”

Silence beats around them. Iida manages a clipped greeting. A few more students nod. Bakugou watches it all unfold from his hazy fog.

Shinsou is no more lively in his acknowledgement of his introduction. He looks away, hoisting his bag on his shoulder, and shuffles down the aisle. He reaches Todoroki’s seat, and places his bag atop it, and sits down.

Midoriya’s chair screeches backward. He is standing, his face a mask of concern. “Uh, Sensei, Shinsou, um, that’s Todoroki’s desk. Todoroki sits there.”

“Todoroki has decided to transfer to Shiketsu High School, effective today,” Aizawa states simply. “Sit down, Midoriya, and raise your hand in the future if you wish to speak.”

Bakugou feels the ripple through the air. The potent unease. The prickle of disbelief that comes in just the form of a few slipped gasps, a few wide eyes swinging to Todoroki’s seat, and then swinging over to him, as if staring at him may reveal the answers they’re never allowed to know.

The haze in Bakugou’s brain won’t let him think. It’s made worse by his own shock, and his own disbelief, and his own gnawing discomfort in his gut when he looks over, and finds Todoroki absent from his seat.

It’s Kirishima’s pained eyes that he accidentally meets in the process.

“Bro… what’s happening?” Kirishima leans across the aisle. He speaks as quietly as he can for someone suppressing shock. “Please man, please just tell me it isn’t anything bad. Tell me Todoroki was wrong. Please dude. Please, I just gotta know you didn’t—”

“Kirishima!” Aizawa barks from the front of the room. Kirishima goes stock-still, spine stiff, head snapping forward to face the teacher. Aizawa turns to face the board, and he grabs a piece of chalk, snapped at the midpoint, and begins to write textbook page numbers on the board. “Not another word on the topic. I thought I made myself clear yesterday, or would you like to be an example?” Aizawa turns, and lifts an eyebrow in Kirishima’s direction. Kirishima, white in the face, shakes his head. “Good. I didn’t think so. Now be quiet. Class is starting.”

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #violence //#non-canon character death //#angst //#hello welcome to a bad idea that got worse.

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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Sacrifce

Warnings: Dub-con, breeding kink, Human sacrifice

AO3

The winter had been harsh and long. The snow was thick over the fields, making sure that no crops would grow. The village was down to its last few animals; even the ones that had perished due to the harsh conditions had to be used up and eaten. The winter rations used up long ago, when the people thought it would be a normal cold season. No one had suspected that the ice would remain for this long. Spring should have started by now, the fields should have been lush and green, lambs and calves should have been dotted around the meadows and pastures. But here you were, cocooned in all the furs the family owned, ignoring pangs of hunger, and wishing to feel the warmth of the sun once more. Clearly this was the anger of the gods, and something had to be done in order to appease them or else your entire village would perish. A decision was made. A sacrifice was needed. It couldn’t be livestock; you were already struggling. The village elders had decided that there were already too many mouths to feed, so a human life it would be. It couldn’t be one of the boys, because obviously strong young men were needed to do what little labour was needed in the village. Elders were needed to pass on knowledge. Mothers were needed to raise the children. And this particular entity did not accept the lives of children. That left the girls of marriageable age. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself. Something in the back of your mind told you that it would be you. Your family wasn’t particularly important, you had no elders to vouch for you in the council, and as much as they cared about the ‘good of the people’, they were not prepared to let go of their own granddaughters. When the decision was announced, you were not surprised. You hoped it was quick, whatever it was. //// For some morbid reason, you were dressed like a bride. The ceremonial garb was far too thin for the temperature. Maybe you were to freeze to death. Whoever this god was, his temple was located in the mountains near your village. It was, however, a surprisingly short trek. You assumed you would perish along the way seen as you were barefoot, without furs and not well fed. The people of the village could not even extend those courtesies to you. You looked around at the entrance of the temple, it just seemed like a dark and icy cave. It had gone unused for so long. The Jotun god, Loki had fallen out of the people's favour long ago. Mischief and chaos were not welcome by the people. Instead, his brother, Thor remained as the favoured god of the region. Maybe the harsh winter was revenge and punishment for forsaking him. A harsh reminder to the people that he still existed, and that his anger was not to be taken lightly. An elder spoke to you as your hands were tied, you weren’t really listening. A bitter drink was given to you, it burned on the way down, but it was the most warmth you had felt in a while. A thick veil was placed over your head, apparently you weren’t allowed to see what was about to happen, a small mercy. You were led into the temple, the lack of harsh wind making things a little more bearable, but the pure ice on the floor made your bare feet hurt. You were pushed onto your knees, the cold seeping into your bones. The elder walked away. You listened as the voices of the men drifted away from the entrance, leaving your fate in the hands of something unknown. Your only company was the constant dripping, echoing from somewhere in the cave, and the sound of your own thoughts. You hoped it was worth it. A numbing sensation began to take over, probably caused by the drink from earlier. //// You jolted awake at the sound of total silence. The wind could no longer be heard, and the dripping had stopped. You still couldn’t see anything. Yet somehow the room seemed a lot bigger, you felt more exposed, missing the strange comfort of the enclosed space you were supposedly left in. Had you been moved? As your eyes began to grow heavy again, you heard a shuffling from in front of you. The noise causing you to sit up straight. Whatever it was, its presence was suffocating. “Now what do we have here?” The voice was like velvet. Otherworldly even. It seemed to descend, getting closer to you. “A shivering little lamb, all for me.” This must have been Loki. You fought the urge to run out of wherever you were. “Well, it seems like the people haven’t been able to forget me, no matter how hard they try.” He grabbed your tied wrists, the rope falling away like water. His hands felt so big compared to yours. His cold touch made you tingle. “Oh you poor thing. Freezing, aren’t you?” You could only nod. He responded with a light chuckle. “Are you going to eat me?” you blurted out, not thinking about what you were saying. He moved away from you. You could feel him staring at you. You knew he was grinning. “Of course, I am,” he got closer again, “it is up to you how,” he whispered. You gulped. There seemed to be innuendo in his statement. He moved again, this time directly in front of you. You gasped as you saw his fingers hook under your veil. Big and blue was the only way you could describe them, with raised ridges. You wanted to trace them with your fingers. Your thoughts were cut short by the tugging on your veil. Your hands shot up to cover your scrunched up eyes. You felt the veil come off, the cool air hitting your head. “Look at me, Y/N”, his voice boomed around the space. You never told him your name, you were sure of it. His tone left no space to argue. How could you defy a powerful god anyway? You knew what his wrath could bring first-hand. You lowered your shaky hands first, placing them on your thighs, gripping your knees. You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the new light. Your eyes fell to the bottom of the dais you were kneeling at. Ever so slowly your gaze travelled up, taking in each individual, intricately carved step. Finally, your eyes landed on the being sprawled out over his crystal throne. His head rested on his hand, a bored expression on his face. The only way you could describe him was ‘magnificent’. A beauty like no other. You could see why mortals would fear him, but he was not the grotesque creature you expected him to be. He seemed amused at your expression, raising a brow at you, causing you to blush, you wanted to be back behind the veil to hide your own embarrassment. “I expected a little more screaming, mortals usually can’t handle what they cannot understand,” he finally spoke again. You could do nothing but owlishly blink. “Stand,” he commanded. You scrambled up, your legs resisting after kneeling for so long. “Come here,” he made a ‘come hither’ gesture with his finger. You slowly made your way up the icy steps, becoming painfully aware of your bare feet. You tried to look away when you stood directly in front of him, even sitting the god dwarfed you in size. His icy hand reached forward, gently holding your chin and making you face him. Those red eyes seemed to study your face intensely. You stared right back, taking in all his features. High cheekbones and a sharp nose, all accented by the same ridges he had on his hands. You followed the patterns to the column of his throat, stopping yourself from letting your eyes wander further down; you knew he was covered in the lines. You wondered if they were natural in Jotuns, or if they were burned into the skin, like a rite of passage of sorts. You had heard other tribes in your area had similar traditions. Your thoughts drifted to mapping them out with your own hands. “Such a curious little thing you are,” he said. He must have caught you staring, your eyes darted away from him as he chuckled. You caught a glimpse at his teeth, pearly white and sharp. He pinched your cheeks as you tried to turn away, thoroughly enjoying the heat that rushed into them. “I forget how soft and delicate Midgardians are,” he mumbled. He pulled away from you, looking you up and down as he thought what to do with you. “Your people want salvation, yes? They want the winter to end?” he asked. You quickly nodded; it was the reason you were here. He hummed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. A grin spread across his face. The room around you began to spin before you fell back onto soft furs. A fire crackled nearby, you sighed at finally feeling warmth after so long. Loki stood above you, staring you down, the light from the fire making his features sharper than before. You felt like a mouse at his feet. You almost screamed as he got down, hovering above you on all fours, engulfing you with his body. Your noses touching. “I will offer your people reprieve from my winter,” he started. “Th- Thank you,” you stuttered. “However,” his grin became more malicious, “If you do not provide me an heir by next spring, the winter will plague your lands until you do,” he whispered in your ear, placing a cold hand across your belly. His tone left no room for question, the future of your people depended on this. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Loki carried you to the furs next to the fire, warming you up even further, you hadn’t noticed you were shivering until you stopped. “I am a cruel god, but I will show mercy to those that deserve it,” he mumbled. His cool hands trailed their way down the column of your throat, you gasped as his lips flowed close behind. Stopping along the way to mark and nip you with his sharp teeth, the marks would scar. This was the closest anyone had ever been to you. His hands made quick work of the cord holding your dress together. He peeled the thin fabric away from you. You tried to cover your bare skin, but your hands wouldn’t move, held down by some sort of magic. His hands found your soft skin again, making you groan as he paid attention to your breasts. “What sweet sounds you make, little maiden.” He made eye contact with you as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands broke free and buried themselves into his hair, your head falling back in unfamiliar pleasure. He smiles with his wet lips, before moving onto the other. You felt like you were burning up inside. He let go of your nipple with a ‘pop’, the cool air brushing over them. “I hope these will be full soon.” His lips travelled down your abdomen to the tops of your thighs. His hands ran up your legs until they met his lips. In one swift movement he held them open, your legs over his shoulders as your wetness was exposed to him. You covered your face in embarrassment. His fingers ghosted over your sensitive flash, causing your hips to jerk at the sensation, wanting more. “Is your cunt dripping for your god?” His mouth was so close to your heat. He used his magic to remove your hands from your face, making you look at him again. His red eyes burned into yours as his tongue liked a stripe through your folds. You sighed at the feeling, tightening your thighs around him and wanting more. He continued to noisily suck, distracting you from his finger that began to enter you. The intrusion was so foreign to you, but you couldn’t help but give in. Wanting more. You felt so greedy, you had never felt this sort of wanting before. You didn’t think your mother would be happy with you if she found out. Loki began sucking at your sensitive bud, bringing you to the edge of whatever this was. “Please...” you breathed out. You looked down at him with teary eyes, you didn’t know what you were begging for. With one final suck, Loki had you seeing stars, finally falling off the edge you were headed towards. Your legs jerked around him, keeping him where he was as he looked up at you with amusement in his eyes. You looked down at him after coming down from your high, his face wet with your release. You let your legs relax, allowing him to move up to you, this time capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He broke away, leaving you breathless. Using his magic, he quickly got rid of what little clothing he was in. You were right about the ridges being everywhere, your hands were loose again, and you reached for his chest, finally getting a feel of the cool skin. He growled as your fingers traced the ridges down to his stomach. His hands stopped yours as you reached his hips. You let your eyes wander down, they widened at the size of his cock. He chuckled at your reaction. “Mortals are quite adaptable are they not? I’m sure your cunt will be able to accommodate me.” He brought your hands to feel his ridged and velvety skin. He sighed at the feeling of your warm hands. He shuffled you around again, spreading you open for what was to come next. He rubbed his cock along your folds, the temperature difference already making you hiss. You didn't think he would fit. With one hand on your hip, he guided the tip to your entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, stopping to let you stretch around him until he bottomed out. The only way you could describe the feeling was ‘full’. You knew no mortal man could ever fill you like this, they wouldn’t even get the opportunity to. His hand pressed down on your stomach, “Can you feel me here?” he groaned. All you could do is nod, no coherent words forming any time soon. Both hands found your hips this time, he began to thrust in a steady rhythm, slowly picking up the pace. You knew you’d never get used to his size, however long you were here. The room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, you moaned anytime he hit that spot inside you. Loki moved you so effortlessly, as if you were simply a toy, made for his pleasure. The coil in your belly began to tighten again, you didn’t know how much longer you would last. “Please, My King… I…” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight the feeling.

“You want to cum again? So soon? Aren’t you being a little greedy mortal?” he taunted. His words made you clench around him a little tighter. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hoping he would show you this one mercy. “Pathetic little thing,” he grumbled, his fingers reaching for your clit, letting you tumble off the edge again. He kept on thrusting through your aftershocks, heightening the sensations. He fully sheathed himself inside you before his head fell back in ecstasy, pumping you full of his seed. You went limp on the furs, trying to catch your breath. The heat of the fire felt too much for you at that moment. Loki pulled himself out with an obscene noise, inspecting the aftermath of his work.

“Your people are lucky to have sent you, little mortal.” He effortlessly carried you back to the bed, letting you sink into the covers. “You were strong enough to last through receiving my seed, and you’ll be strong enough to carry my heir,” his hand rubbed your tummy, seemingly deep in thought, “Not many would have survived.” He climbed in behind you. You groaned as his fingers found your sensitive cunt. He speared you back onto his already hard cock, you whimpered at the stretch. “I’ll let you rest for a little while, but you will keep me warm until we can start again. You have a purpose to fulfil, remember?” “Yes My King,” you whispered back, trying to adjust to the foreign sensation.

#My writing #oneshot #loki laufeyson #loki x reader

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throwawayfish · 3 years

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𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐏𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: it’s never easy to always be in the honeymoon phase of a relationship, but being with the pogue king just needs a bit more effort to keep it that way

warnings: platonic!rafe x reader (not a lot in this chapter), fluff, angst, language, minor drowning incident, lowercase intended, typos for sure

a/n: we’ve reached the end of the series! whew! it’s been a long time coming. read to find out what happens to jj and y/n!! gif used is mine :)

interact with the series masterlist or let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

the morning light didn’t shine through your windows for hours on the daily. the drawn curtains shielding you from the rays as you used as a barrier from the outside world, waking up later than what you’re used to. it was with bold determination that you managed to gather yourself and do what you normally would. get up, fix the bed, do bathroom agendas and cook food— either only for you or the best friends you had plans to meet with.

three days had passed since you last saw the group. staying within the rundown walls of your house, wallowing in heartbreak and, although you hate to admit it, self pity. but today was different, as pope persuaded her to surf - knowing that he was just trying to get her to go by using flattery - but she agreed after telling the lad he poor enticing skills.

the sun was at somehow at its peak as you arrived your usual spot, colossal waves in view as the silhouettes of your friends surfed from the distance. their laughs being carried away with the wind towards you let your feet sink in the hot sand.

though you loved hearing their faint laughters, the absence of the the one you were too nervous to run into once again didn’t come unnoticed. you propped your board by the palm tree that offered shade, peeling off the summer dress you had on as it revealed your favourite bikini. you waxed hastily, ready to get your body submerged in the ocean.

tucking your board under your arms, you ran to the white water that’s widespread on the shallow part, watching your friends wait for the set that was coming up as you ventured to them excitedly as you passed the shore break, using the riptide to get on the deep end faster.

once you reached the section they were at, it was as if it was your deep seated understanding with the rest to paddle out and catch waves of your own. it was deemed throughout the group- that eventually became passed on the island, that you and the blonde pogue were one’s greatest competition when it came to surfing. you both found it funny, setting the pressure aside and let your adoration for each other mask it.

the swells were developing faster, some breaking earlier than usual and some not being worth to catch. soon enough, the two boys left to rest for a little while, having been there an hour before kie and an extra half hour before you.

silence filled the air for awhile, the only thing easing the tension in the atmosphere was the crashing of the waves. it was soon ceased as the brunette spoke, “i’m sorry...” you looked at her, prompting her to continue “about you and jj.”

your lips formed a thin line, not knowing whether to make a face or smile. “i hope you guys could work it out.” that statement alone impelled you to let out a scoff.

“you’re actually telling me that...you’re actually telling me that?” you asked in annoyance, she bowed her head before building up the courage to speak again.

“we weren’t doing anything behind your back.” she started, “i know it doesn’t seem that way but believe me, we didn’t. i can’t do that to myself, to jj, and i respect and love you too much to do that to you.”

although you guys we’re still floating on your surfboards, hair and skin soaked in salty water, you could guarantee that a few tears fell from her eyes. but knowing kie and being best friends for so long, tears were not what you needed to have assurance of her sincerity, it was simply her bringing her walls down to talk her feelings away.

“i appreciate that a lot. i’m sorry too if i doubted you, it just wasn’t hard to do so when he has chosen you over me multiple times. and it’s not like it’s a bad thing to be closer than ever, he just doesn’t know how to get his priorities straight, i guess.” you answered, letting the water cradle you as you eased through a conversation.

it was not hard to forgive kiara, positive that what she was saying was true. you looked out to the horizon as you were at the apex of a wave, closing your eyes but cutting it short as you heard her speak, “he loves you...” you looked into her eyes and can see the honey colour of them spill out genuineness

“...so much. but he was doubting as well. the reason why he kept on meeting me was he was asking me stuff to know if you were sure about him.” you furrowed your brows, keeping you gaze at her as your stare asked for more questions.

“it’s not my place to speak for him. it’s better if you guys talk. that night was full of rage, make another one full of understanding. all i want right now is to be your best friend again.” a lot of weight was lifted off your shoulder, you clouded mind started to clear as you paddled slightly over her to wrap her in your arms “you never even lost me, kie.” she returned the hug as you both caught a few more waves.

as you both decided that it was time to paddle back, the period dropped as the tide leveled out offering a few entries into nice waves. kiara, out of breath let you have time for yourself as you insisted that you’ll be fine alone and waited a few minutes for a nice set to conquer and kick out the channel.

a herculean wave came to view which quickly capped out. paddling over after it broke, you saw the second one gaining such momentum as it approached someone like you who’s been expecting a day ender.

intimidating was the word you described it in your head. it towering over you as the sun rested at the shoulder of it, the glare making it harder to examine what it’s going to do whether it is going to close down or give you the time to catch it.

after seeing the line for previous waves, you decided to paddle out, fully committing in it being one of the difficult waves that size that you surfed in.

but that commitment lead you to a minor downfall as the higher you got, the clearer the reefs became as it drew off from the ocean ground. making you realize that it would be a steep giant that you needed to brace yourself for.

things didn’t not go your way as your board basically was propped on air, not giving you any control to position yourself. you dropped on the cold water, covering your head as you landed exactly where the impact zone is.

reeling your board in, you tried to catch a decent sized wave, hoping to ride out on the white water to get out of the section faster. your arms were killing you, not cooperating as it just made you slower.

soon enough you once again submerged, a plethora of underwater billow surrounding you. the current tossing you around, making you tumble worse than a gymnastics class make their students do.

when you surfaced, an engine could be heard nearing you, a voice shouting your name as it reached your seemingly lifeless body. the yells were indistinct, your board long forgotten as your back hit the fine sand before you were rolled over to your side, your eyes still closed.

“y/n, you okay?” you heard, slowly gaining back your consciousness, you felt hands soothing your back as you opened your eyes, meeting your favourite blue ones.

jj had his moments, and running to you was his solution to everything. but when he got in a fight with his father, rebuttals about you set his insides on fire as luke degraded him to the point where even he, the guy who shrugs everything off and continues to live his life, questioned if he was even worthy of you.

that’s what lead him to spending his time with kie. as he couldn’t feel any pressure when he’s around her. asking her what he could do to improve about himself to be enough for you and always getting the same response that he already was.

but as he saw you with rafe, that set off the recurrence of his negative thoughts. the smile that you give to mostly everyone suddenly became a special one for the kook, the goodbye wave you did suddenly became a secret message of i miss you, and the words of his dad of him being useless suddenly became true.

it was illogical, as him out of all people should know who you were, being that you’ve been friends for as long as you can remember. but you ending your guys’ relationship worsened the situation.

he came from the garage where the his dad kept his equipments. having to steal keys from a drunk luke wasn’t such a task as he was drunk himself, the confidence sinking in as he approached the steps of the house that didn’t even look like one.

he did the sort of thing every now and then, taking the phantom for a spin was his escape, even though it was usually followed by a few punches when his dad finds out. he learned overtime how to be more furtive about it, knowing when to take the boat and how to use it without his dad finding out.

the surfing invite got to him, pope never leaving anyone out of the group. however, he still refused as he knew you were coming. positive that you cannot last three days without acting like a sane person, he wanted to give you a fun day to be with the others without him ruining it.

but he could just not see you, so he drove to your constant place to surf. the place where you both came to terms with your feelings and the one where you had discussions of how you both will have the chance to surf at Mavericks.

he watched smiling at your figure dancing on your board. the water glistening beneath as if it was worshipping you as you became one with the ocean, letting it control you. but he immediately was in action as he saw you wipe out and get toppled by gigantic swells multiple times. it wasn’t an easy task, as the set made it difficult to reach for you in his first try, having to drive away briefly as the set approached. he pulled your body onto the phantom as he finally had the chance to, his heart breaking at the sight of your once velvet lips now turned blue.

the others were just as worried for you when the blonde reached the shore. jj performing cpr before turning you sideways to let out any saltwater from within as he shouted your name. he felt helpless, but it was soon replaced with relief as your weak eyes made contact with his cerulean ones. the tightness in his chest loosening the grip it had.

you sat up as you looked away and was immediately given water by john b. jj running a hand through his already messy locks “don’t you scare me like that ever again!” frustration masked in his voice.

the others were reassured of your safety already, but they also knew that it was time to leave you two to talk, and with that being said they excused themselves to go wait in the twinkie.

“uh..thank you.” you broke the awkward silence, offering a smile that didn’t last long as you looked at anywhere but him “you’re welcome. are you fine? do you need to go to the hospital?”

you shook your head, walking back to the palm tree where your things are. you put on your dress as the golden cast from the sun complimented your tanned skin. you began to pack up when you heard him speak

“can we talk?” he pleaded, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. your head and lungs were still stinging from almost drowning, and you knew tears were not going to help. but you also knew that if you didn’t talk now then nothing will ever be resolved, so you nodded, sitting on the beach chair john b brought, him sitting on the other one across from you.

“what have we become?” you joked and just as you were expecting he laughed with you while nodding in agreement “i was an asshole— screw that, i still am! i’m an asshole.” he paused and looked down before getting out a regretful laugh “but i’m in love with you. i still am.”

“an asshole that’s in love with me? what a dream.” tears brimmed the corners of your eyes. you reached out, grabbing his chin to make him look at you, “you hurt me,” swallowing the lump that formed in your throat before continuing “you made me feel like i was nothing to you anymore. you were my definitely when i was just a maybe to you.” you breathed deeply “but i hurt you too.” you sniffled

“the ways you tried to take your mind off things, me, was kinda fucked up. you weren’t thinking about me, only yourself...” he tried to cut you off but you raised your hand to let him know you weren’t finished.

“but jj you need to know you’re enough for me.” this time he interrupted “kie told you.” he said in statement rather than a question. you nodded, grabbing hands and held it tight.

“she did. and how dare you think i’m high maintenance and have high standards! you have more skincare products than me!” he laughed and wiped the tear that threatened to fall.

“i just thought you deserved better. seeing you with rafe at the ferry just set it off even though i know you would never cheat on me. you cried when you saw a frog eat a fly! but i could never give you the life he could, or any other guy in this case. i live off of beer and extra grits from the wreck—”

“i love you. i think that’s an enough answer, is it not.” he stoop up for a moment before dropping on his knees to match your height. caressing your rose blush cheeks that got more saturated as he tried to catch your eye.

“can we please try this again?” he queried, his eyes showing the red veins as he tried to stop his tears from falling once more. you smiled, nodding and throwing your arms around him, him almost losing his balance as he caught you.

“i thought you’d never ask.” you placed a chaste kiss on his cheeks and buried your face on the crook of his neck. it was quiet for a few seconds before he muttered

“what about rafe...”

you kissed him. your soft ones brushing against his chapped ones. but you didn’t care, his lips were on yours, at that moment you knew it was definitely him, you weren’t wrong the first time.

“i’ll eat grits for the rest of my life if it means being with you. rafe’s my best friend but you’re the one i want. now shut up and kiss me again.”

your hearts beat faster and faster as your lips collided with his own. he knew this kiss was the seal he needed. you thought it would be only be a short and sweet one, but as you began to pull away his arms were on your figure. one at the back of your neck as he deepened it, the other on your lower back to pull you closer. a gesture that didn’t compare to a surging tide as it made your knees weak.

once he pulled away, he brushed his nose with yours. his eyes stayed close as he was contented in feeling “you sure you’ll be satisfied being with me? because we’re off on a really bad start already and i’m telling you, you ain’t going anywhere.”

“i think that kiss was an answer in itself, love.”

you pulled in an embrace, placing a kiss on your temple as he squeezed you lightly “hell yeah!”

you drove up the roads of the outerbanks, the windows of your old vehicle rolled down as you bathed under the starlit canvas, the breath of the moon sending soothing kisses to your face.

the estate was still well lit, majority of the light in the deck turned on as a shadow appeared from one of the pillars that was blocking it. you ventured forward, confirming your guess as to who it was. once they looked down, you waved and they immediately ran down to meet you.

“y/n!!!” they yelled in excitement as they clung onto you. you giggled as you put your index finger on your lips, mentioning for her to lower her tone as you pulled their hair jokingly “what’s up, sneezy”

“you’ve missed 8 sleepovers. that’s a lot to make up for if you ask me.” she sassed and you just rolled your eyes.

soon enough you were inside the mansion once again. it felt like a void has been filled, feeling like going there was a part of you. not because of how big it is or how you get to experience staying over once in a while compared to your house or the uncomfortable pull out that you loved nonetheless. it was because you felt like the people here, or atleast the ones in your age range, considered you as family.

sarah jumped up from the living room couch as she saw you, rambling about how she missed you and how you miss out on a lot. but she promised to tell you all about it, asking you if you wanted to stay the night. you knew she wasn’t going to let you go anyway so you agreed. promising to catch up after you do what you initially came for.

the high end door was slightly open, a faint light from the inside tainting the dimly lit hallway. you pushed it open eagerly, seeing the boy on his bed finishing a can of soda. his slicked back hair making you laugh as you leaned against the doorframe.

“hey kook! wanna be friends again?”

the end.

it’s been a journey writing this series! i hope you guys enjoyed the ride as much as i did. it took a minute to finish it bc i had finals but especially because i wanted to somehow give an unsatisfyingly (if that even is a word) satisfying ending. thanks for the love on this series and see you guys in my other works!! ♡

i couldn’t tag some of you guys for some reason. there are also others who probably changed their usernames so if you see this and want it updated or you want to be added to the taglist just let me know :)

@sunsetholland @bibliophilewednesday @drewswannabegirl @spilledtee @ifilwtmfc @maybebanks @obx-snippets @glux64 @rae131415 @pink-meringues @jeyramarie @lust-for-pan @k-roleplay20 @prejudic3 @rafeyybabyy @mj-20182 @makrenee @hoodpankow @softtfordrew @diverrdown @obxhstyles @suicidexdarkness @edyn-nicole @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @obxloves

#outerbanks #jj maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x reader #obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank series #obx imagine #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #john b routledge #pope heyward #jj x reader #obx series

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

So you wanted requests? Can I maybe get a breeding kink with Ransom Drysdale? I feel like we don’t see that a lot and dammit we should! And maybe if you have time, Henry Cavill realizing he’s in love with his girlfriend? Like maybe she does something cute or funny and it just hits him that he loves her. Anyway I hope you feel better soon! Toothaches are the worst 🥺

Hey love, sorry for the long wait! Been trying to work more on my WIP’s and my collab. I’m gonna reply to this with the main request you put in with the Ransom breeding kink and then i’ll do a separate post for the Henry Cavill request.

I really hope you love this and i agree, this is something we don’t see enough of.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Smut, language, fluff, praise kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, oral (male receiving) and spit play (sorta, i guess) 18+

Word Count: 3,225

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @definitelysoftransom go check them out 💙

Knock You Up

As a woman who firmly believes in romance and all of that mushy stuff, it sure is questionable as to why you’re in a relationship with Ransom Drysdale. He’s everything you should detest and yet you don’t, you adore him.

He’s the only man you’ve ever been in love with and you cannot see that changing anytime soon.

You’ve lost count of how many times your loyalty and love for Ransom has been questioned. Friends constantly ask and say

‘but why are you with him?’

‘you deserve better’

But you brush them off. Even his family, his own flesh and blood call you out on your apparent terrible choices. You just put it down to them not knowing him the way that you do. They don’t see the other side to him, the side that feels, loves and has a kind heart.

Of course he isn’t always that way, he has a temper, he loses his cool. He kicks off, throws stuff, shouts and screams. And that’s just the aftermath of one of his family parties. Which you’re at right now.

You’ve been here for an hour with your boyfriend of 2 years and you’ve had just about enough of their digging and sarcastic remarks about your relationship. It’s like they are always mocking you. Making fun of you behind your back and to your face even, they have no shame. No remorse.

“What did you just say about me?” you speak up, after listening in on their conversation for long enough now “i’m sorry” Walt turns to face you, watching as you stand in the doorway, sipping at your drink.

“You heard me. You’re all having a jolly good time mocking my love life, the relationship i’m in with Ransom, why don’t you explain yourself” his smile soon drops, he’s straight faced, staring you down as he scoffs “i’m good thank you” you just chuckle as you walk over to him.

You kneel down in front of him, your eyes locking on his “if you can’t explain yourself, the jokes you make, the digs. Then i suggest you keep your ugly mouth shut” you mutter, earning gasps from everyone in the room. Including Ransom who is more shocked at your attitude and bravery. You’ve always been the type to just sit pretty and ignore everything whenever you’ve attended a Thrombey party. Not tonight though, no, tonight you’re finally sticking up for yourself and your boyfriend.

“He’s your family and you all treat him like dirt. You should really take a good look at yourselves in the mirror, because you’re all disgusting” you stand up as you speak, glancing over at Ransom who starts laughing, unable to hold it in, you laugh too.

“God i’ve spent 2 years holding all of that in and i’m so glad to finally say it. Walt, you’re a stuck up, old as fuck, ugly hearted bastard. Joni, you’re a money grabbing, selfish and self centred bitch. And as for you two, Linda, Richard. I’m glad that i don’t have to play nice with you anymore. The pair of you should have never been allowed to be parents. Ransom might be a lot of things but at least deep down he has a kind heart and one of the best personalities i’ve ever had the privilege to see. But you wouldn’t know that would you? Because all you’ve done his whole life is throw money his way and pray for the best results. It’s sad. Tragic even. Come on Ransom, we’re leaving” you strut out, Ransom follows closely behind.

Once you’re in the beamer, he crashes his lips to yours. It’s fiery and passionate.

“Have i ever told you just how much i love you?” he says as he turns the key in the ignition before stepping on the gas to get the fuck away from all of them.

“You might have a couple of times” you giggle, his free hand finds yours as he drives, holding it and intertwining your fingers before lifting it to his mouth so he can press a couple of quick kisses to your hand. He really worships the ground you walk on.

And that just makes you love him more. He treats you like a princess whilst also fucking you like the whore that you are for him, every day and night.

He pretty much speeds his way back to your shared place, well it was his place before you moved in and now it’s both of yours. Courtesy of Harlan Thrombey of course. One of the few members of Ransom’s family that you actually have the time of day for.

Ransom pulls up to your house and as soon as the engine stops, he’s rushing out and jogging round to your side to help you out, as he always does. He pulls you from your seat, lifting you up into his arms before kicking the door shut and continuing to carry you bridal style inside.

“Ransom” you squeal as he smacks your ass before putting you down.

He spins you around, making you go dizzy.

“You were on fire tonight baby, might have to rile you up more often” you smack him playfully on his chest, rolling your eyes as you do so.

“I’m sorry i know they are your family and all and i’m supposed to just keep out of it but they make it so hard to do that when they are constantly bashing you and mocking what we have” you say, you can hear the care in your voice. How much he means to you and how much the relationship means to you.

“It’s fine baby, really. I know i joke about it and play it off but really it’s fine. It stopped getting to me years ago. All that matters to me is you and our life together. Nothing else can faze me” you stand on your tip toes, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck to pull him down to meet your lips. Which of course he does.

Your lips fit together so perfectly, it’s almost as if you were made for each other.

And you believe that you were. You’ve always been a firm believer in soulmates. Someone for everyone, even Ransom Drysdale. A man who most would describe as an asshole. But even he found someone, he found you. The only woman that can bring him to his knees, the only person that knows everything about him that there is to know.

You know all of his sweet spots, all of his kinks, all of his secrets. It took him a while to get there but when he did, it was so special. When he finally opened up, properly.

Like the first time he cried in front of you, it broke your heart. It was actually the night you first slept with him. You were a virgin when you first met him so naturally, you made him wait.

You really weren’t kidding with the whole ‘he’s the only man you’ve ever been in love with’ thing. It’s the truth.

“I love you so much, you know that right? I never want to lose you, i want to be with you for the rest of my life” you say, cupping his face with your small hands, making sure to give him direct eye contact so he can see you properly.

“I know. I love you too, i’ve never felt like this about anyone. You’re never getting rid of me now baby, you and me forever” you smile before diving back into the kiss.

Tongues battle for dominance and teeth nip at bottom lips as you both tug at each others clothes. There’s a strong hunger that’s become very prominent since you left the party. Actually no, the hunger you have for each other is always prominent. You always crave each others touch and kisses.

“I want you so badly” you moan out as you remove his grey cable-knit sweater and he removes your tank top. You jump up, letting him catch you and you wrap your legs around his waist. He starts walking to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the Egyptian cotton sheets. Soft to the touch. Makes it even harder for you to leave the bed every morning.

“Do you have any idea how turned on i am by you?” he starts, removing the rest of his clothes and his boxers before hovering above you “you sticking up for me against my highly dysfunctional family and putting them in their place” you giggle from his open mouthed kisses as they begin at your jawline and trail down to your neck.

“No but i’m sure you can show me just how much” he pulls away, giving you the look. The look that even by now you know means he’s taking you up on that request. And boy will he show you how much he loves you and how hard you make him.

He gets off the bed and stands at the foot of it, signalling for you to join him and when you do he glares at you “do i even need to ask you pretty girl?” you shake your head no as you sink down to your knees, taking his hard cock in your small hand and pumping it a couple times.

You give the tip a couple of kitten licks to rid it of the pre cum that’s leaked out during the lead up to this moment. He groans as you take him in your mouth for the first time, throwing his head back and letting his mouth fall open slowly “oh god, just like that. Such a good girl” he praises, taking your hair in his hands to hold it up and out of your face, letting you really go for it.

And you do.

Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth and he stills your head so that he can take over “that’s a good little cock slut” he mutters, his thrusting pace picks up, grunting and groaning each time you gag and splutter all over him.

All of a sudden he pulls out. He bends down to pick you up and throw you onto the bed like you weigh nothing.

“You like sucking daddy’s cock, hm? Like causing a big mess all down yourself baby?” you nod, biting your lip “yes daddy” he smirks, as he wipes your chin.

“Open that mouth for me” you do as you’re told, opening nice and wide for him. He hovers over you once again, lowering his head and spitting into your mouth “like that huh? want me to do that to your cunt, spill my cum inside of it after i fuck you senseless?” you can’t help but feel more turned on as the minutes tick by. He’s always been able to get you crumbling so fast. He knows all the tricks.

“Yes. Please cum inside me”

He slowly removes the rest of the clothes that cover you up. The bra that hides your breasts. You arch your back, allowing him room to unhook it before tossing it behind him, setting them free. He leans down to show them love. Pinching the hardened peaks in his fingers before taking one in his mouth. Sucking and biting.

He shows the same amount of love to the other nipple before pulling off with a pop.

Next up are your jeans, he slides them off once undoing the button and pulling the zipper down.

And now you’re left in nothing but your red lacy panties. He licks his lips, growling as his eyes rake over your figure “so sexy”. His fingers hook into the waistband before he removes them in an instant. Like it didn’t even take him a second to do it.

You spread your legs for him, giving him a good show “look at this” he grazes his knuckles over it before pulling his hand away and tossing your panties.

Once they are on the floor he kisses his way back up to your sex, starting at your legs. You feel shivers all over your body as he gets higher, the pool in between your legs is growing more and more with each one he presses to your skin.

“Please, hurry. I need you” you beg, gripping onto the strands of his hair. He just tuts “so desperate to be fucked, to get stuffed full of my cum aren’t you?Well not so fast baby, let daddy take his time” you arch your back as your head falls back down to the sheets underneath.

“I need you now though, i need your cum now” he chuckles, as his face is now inches from your soaked pussy “oh you need it do you? And why’s that sweetheart?” you just hum in response, enjoying the feel of his breath on your clit.

“I asked you a question baby” you prop yourself up on your elbows “i love how it feels when you spill your cum inside of me” you lie as he licks across your folds briefly before pulling away.

“Let me guess. You want my cum so you can have my baby is that it? Should know by now that you can’t fool me sweetheart” you feel your cheeks heat up at the embarrassment of your broody side coming out, now of all times.

“Wait, no. That’s not it” you lie again. The thing is, Ransom is a lot of things but one thing you’ve always assumed of him is that he’s not the father type. That kids will never ever be a thing he wants. You don’t want to scare him away with how you feel. Lying is the best option right now. You don’t want to kill the buzz.

“Now now, don’t get all hasty. My woman wants a baby, she’s getting a baby” your mouth hangs open in shock as he moves upwards so that his head is level with yours. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance.

“So wet for me, just the way i like you”

He slams in without warning, not that you expected one. It’s Ransom. You should be used to it by now. You grip onto his biceps, letting him ram into you again and again. With each thrust you move further up the bed. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him in even deeper, you need to feel him deeper.

“Daddy” you moan, your toes curl “you like this? Like me fucking this tight cunt, stretching it out nicely” you nod, biting your lip as you cup his face and pull him down for a kiss.

The kiss soon turns into a make out session to which you break away from, taking his tongue with you as you suck on it before he licks his fingers and presses them down onto your bundle of nerves.

“SHIT” your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling every nerve in your body going crazy at how good he’s making you feel. All the hairs standing on end, goosebumps appear.

The tip of his cock pokes at your g-spot and you can quite literally feel him in your stomach at this point.

“Want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy?” he moves his hand from your nub to your stomach “want me to put a baby in here? hm? would you like that sweetheart?” you can’t even muster up a single word to respond to him with. The pleasure is mind blowing and toe curling. You know if things continue like this then you won’t last much longer.

“God i want to knock you up so badly, make me a real daddy” he chuckles “you’re gonna make the best mother. Nothing like mine. You’re gonna care for our child like mine should have” his pace is rendering on animalistic at as the coil twists and twists.

“Gonna watch you glow as you carry our child”

“Yes. Ransom. Fuck” he keeps going “make you my wife some day huh? would you like that? To marry me, be my wife?” all the words that you never expected are leaving his mouth as he grunts and growls, shocking you to your core.

You never imagined him to ever want marriage or kids and yet here you are. Discussing it as he fucks you so good. As he pushes you close to a state of pure ecstasy and pleasure.

“Yes, i want that. I want all of that with you, please, give it to me. Fill me up daddy, give me your cum” he lowers his head, burying it into your neck, kissing and sucking.

“Fuck, i’m gonna cum daddy, make me cum” you whine, reaching your hands around to his back, scratching at it as you let him send you toppling over that cliff for your sweet release.

Your walls flutter around him deliciously, gripping onto his cock and keeping him from leaving you completely.

His thrusts go from fast and rough to slow and hard, he’s close now. You pull his head from your neck so you can look into his eyes as you say “give me your cum baby, make me a mommy” and that’s all he needs to fall.

“Fuck”

“Gonna fucking knock you up”

“Give you a baby”

“My little fucking whore wants to be a mommy huh? Then she’s gonna be a mommy”

“That’s it. Keep squeezing my cock like that sweetheart, milk me”

“Fuckkkkk, i’m cumming”

Soon enough you feel him twitch and spasm inside of you before the warmth of his seed spurts inside of you, painting your walls and doing exactly what you both wanted, filling you up.

“god, that was incredible” he pants, falling down onto the bed, beside you. You both just lay there, trying to take in everything that’s just happened.

Everything you both just said.

“So you want a baby” you speak up, breaking the silence “i do. I never thought i’d ever say that but i do. But i only want one with you, i only want any of that serious shit with you” he turns on his side, you join him.

His thick digits trace their way down your arm and eventually falling onto your waist and resting there.

“I didn’t think you were after all of that?”

“It’s you Y/N. You do this to me. How have you done this to me? I never wanted any of these things before and yet with you, i want it all and nothing else matters except from you. You’re the only person i care about”

“I love you so much Ransom”

“And i love you, more than you know”

You kiss him quickly.

“I guess now this means more sex for us, we won’t make a baby doing it twice a day”

You squeal when he picks you up as he gets off the bed. He carries you over to the bathroom and into the shower.

“You gonna let daddy fill you up again baby?”

You just nod as you feel him slide inside of you, his cock still hard. How is that even possible. Once the shower is turned on and the water cascades over your naked bodies, he pushes you up against the wall. Picking his pace up gradually.

You can’t wait to spend forever with him.

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

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thearvariblues · 3 years

Text

A Valentine’s Day Non-Date (AKA Lambert Was Fucking Right)

Because it’s Valentine’s Day and even though I definitely don’t celebrate it, I still got this funny little idea that simply refused to go away until I write it down. So... Yeah. Enjoy the Witcher boys and their Valentine’s Day non-date!

“It’s just… So unfair!” Jaskier whines, downing his glass of wine and holding it out to be refilled.

“Yeah, I know. I know,” Geralt murmurs, turns the bottle upside down and frowns confusedly when only a drop falls out. “Fuck. Are we out again?”

“Looks like it,” Jaskier nods solemnly. “Ugh, it’s probably for the best. I think I’m a little drunk, Geralt.”

“No shit,” Geralt chuckles.

“You don’t understand. I’m just… I’m a very romantic person, you know?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it romantic–”

“But I am! And it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow and I’m not gonna have a date for the first time in years!”

“Good. Valentine’s Day is bullshit, anyway,” Geralt mutters. “That’s your biggest problem?”

“Is it not enough?!”

“Boo fucking hoo. Look at me. I’m single too, you know?”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Good. Because I am! I’m almost forty, I got a divorce last year, and I’m so fucking broke I can’t even get my own apartment and have to have a thirty-year-old–”

“Excuse me? I’m twenty-nine, you asshole, I’m nowhere near being a coffin dodger like you, thank you very much!”

“Yeah, whatever. When’s your birthday again? I’ll buy you a cane.”

“See? I’m single and old! I’ll spend the rest of my life all alone, die alone and then I’m gonna be eaten by my cats.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“I will. Because I’m gonna turn into a little old cat lady!”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, because I won’t be able to afford an apartment on my own anytime soon,” Geralt laughs. “I’m just gonna keep living with a twenty-nine-year-old roommate who plays in a semi-famous local band, fucks everything that moves, steals my gaming laptop to play Sims and serenades my ass when he’s bored.”

“It’s a gorgeous ass,” Jaskier smiles dreamily. “So perfectly round and firm…”

“Oh, fuck off, Jask,” Geralt chuckles.

“You know what we should do tomorrow?” Jaskier frowns, thinking. “We should go on a non-date together!”

“Non-what?”

“Non-date! Like a date, but like… as friends. Because we are. Friends.”

“You wanna go on a date that’s not a date… On Valentine’s Day.”

“You said it was bullshit, didn’t you? So what’s a bigger fuck you to the day than going for a friendly dinner with your roommate slash friend?”

Geralt sighs, closing his eyes. The world is beginning to spin a little.

“Just for the record, if I refuse to go,” he mutters, “are you gonna spend the whole evening drinking, crying, listening to terrible pop love songs and, well, being all miserable?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Oh, whatever. I’m in.”

Geralt opens is eyes just in time to see Jaskier grinning at him.

“Are you? Oh, Geralt! I promise it’s gonna be the best non-date you’ve ever been on!”

And then Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt and kisses him on the cheek and Geralt knows he’s just made a horrible mistake.

“You,” Lambert says when he finally stops laughing, “are a fucking idiot, Wolf.”

“I know,” Geralt sighs, hiding his face in his hands. “It’s a horrible idea.”

“What, to go on a date–”

“A non-date.”

“Even worse. To go on a non-date with a roommate you’ve been madly in love with for the past eight months, on a fucking Valentine’s, knowing he’s not even gonna fuck you when you get back home – because, let’s face it, getting laid is the reason why people really go to those pretentious dinners… That’s incredibly stupid even for you!”

“You’re right. I’ll just cancel it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s stupid!”

“It is, but you can’t do that to poor Jaskier, can you? And who knows, maybe you will get laid in the end.”

“That’s bullshit, Lambert,” Geralt sighs.

“Is it? I don’t know. He likes sex, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, but he’s my roommate, for fuck’s sake!” Geralt shakes his head. “What about you? How are you spending Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh, we’re gonna stay at home. Aiden’s bought a new strap and he refuses to show me, so there’s no way in hell I’m gonna wait for a whole fucking dinner.”

“Patience is a virtue, you know?” Geralt chuckles just as Lambert’s boyfriend places two cups of coffee on the coffee table in front of them. “Thanks, Aiden.”

“You’re welcome,” Aiden smiles. “And don’t listen to the asshole. He’s the one who started it. He said he bought me something special for Valentine’s Day and then he refused to tell me what it was. This is just a little revenge.”

“What did you buy?” Geralt asks, turning to Lambert.

“An engagement ring,” Lambert shrugs, smiling.

“See?” Aiden smirks. “Every time I ask him, he just thinks of another stupid thing he could give me. I’ve heard like fifty of those already, from lace lingerie to a puppy. This one’s probably the best yet, though. As if you’d ever propose, you bitch.”

He slaps Lambert on the head playfully and returns to the kitchen.

Geralt raises an eyebrow questioningly and taps his left ring finger.

Lambert smiles and nods.

For real? Geralt mouths silently.

Lambert just nods again.

“Well, fuck,” Geralt chuckles.

“Yeah, well. At least one of us is gonna get laid tonight, right?” Lambert laughs.

“What are you wearing, anyway?” Aiden asks, coming back with his own cup of coffee.

“Oh, you know, the usual. It’s not a date, remember?” Geralt shrugs.

“So, black jeans, black shirt, that wolf medallion of yours… Poor Jaskier,” Aiden nods.

“More like poor me,” Geralt sighs. “I don’t even want to know what he is going to wear…”

The answer is purple jeans, white shirt, a dark grey waistcoat, an excessive amount of silver rings… and dark red lipstick.

Geralt nearly faints when he sees Jaskier for the first time, and then every single time he looks at him.

Jaskier looks simply beautiful, more beautiful than Geralt has ever seen him, and Geralt simply cannot take it. It wasn’t just a stupid idea, it was a completely idiotic idea, and the only thing that keeps him from running away is the fact that he’s doing it to keep Jaskier from being sad.

He’s near oblivious to everything that happens during the dinner except the parts which directly involve Jaskier. That’s why he, when asked later, has no idea what he was even eating but can easily describe the way a stray drop of red wine stained Jaskier’s lower lip.

No matter what he tries to tell himself, it’s not a dinner between two friends – at least for him it isn’t. It’s a date. The only date he will ever have with Jaskier, probably.

And perhaps that’s the reason why, when the door of their apartment closes behind them and Jaskier smiles at him and thanks him for the dinner and says that it was the loveliest evening he’s had in months, Geralt does the one unthinkable thing he just can’t stop thinking of – he grabs the back of Jaskier neck to bring him closer and then simply kisses him.

He feels Jaskier hesitate and he’s nearly sure he’s royally fucked up just now, but then Jaskier sighs and wraps his arms around Geralt and kisses him back…

And that’s the point when Geralt stops thinking at all.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” Jaskier chuckles into Geralt’s hair.

“Mhm,” Geralt smiles and snuggles up closer to him. He feels light-headed, perfectly fucked out, content… happy.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Jaskier continues, his fingers drawing lazy circles on Geralt’s skin. “Melitele’s tits, it was even better than I imagined.”

That makes Geralt lift his head and look into Jaskier’s eyes.

“You imagined it?” he asks.

“You really have no idea how hot you are, do you?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt. The serenades to your ass were no joke. I just never thought you’d be interested.”

“Interested? Jaskier, I’ve been in love with you since… Fuck,” Geralt whines and buries his head in Jaskier’s shoulder. “Forget I said that. Please, forget I said that.”

“Never,” Jaskier says, wrapping his arms around Geralt. “I love you too, you big moron.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” Jaskier murmurs as Geralt lifts his head again.

“So…” Geralt says, licking his lips. “I guess it’s safe to say the non-date didn’t go very well, did it?”

“Quite the opposite, dear heart,” Jaskier grins. “I’d say it went splendidly.”

“I thought the point of a non-date was to have a nice dinner and stay… friends.”

“But you are still my friend, Geralt. My best friend,” Jaskier smiles and runs his fingers through Geralt’s white hair. “You just happen to be my lover now, too.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna be serenading me much more often from now on?”

“Absolutely.”

Geralt chuckles, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s.

“All right. I guess I can live with that…”

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #the witcher #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #lambden #lambert x aiden #yeah they just sneaked into another fic #also why can't I fucking stop writing trans!aiden?#fluff #tooth-rotting fluff #mutual pining #idiots in love #friends to lovers #oh my god they were roommates

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armysantiny · 3 years

Text

Ateez Headcanon; Their s/o is a fantasy nerd.

Pairing: Ot8 x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, fantasy (kinda), headcanon

Includes: movies, tv shows, merch, movie nights, playthroughs, gifts,

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: n/a

Rating: PG

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @kpopscape, @ultkpopnetwork, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub, @k-dinernet, @lovesick-net, @whipped-kpop-creators, @kafenetwork, @8makes1teamnet, @ateezlovenet

Taglist: @teeztheflag | Taglist form

An: I had so much fun writing this! Members under the cut!

홍중 (Hongjoong)

Literally so invested

When he sees the sparkle in your eyes as you explain the lore, his heart is doing flips I tell you.

How hadn’t you told him sooner?

Doesn’t say a word while you talk, only going “Mhm~” with stars in his eyes.

If it’s a videogame, or a roleplaying game like D&D, he will practically beg you to give him a crash course in what to do.

“Are you sure you want to learn how to do this Joongie?”

“Mhm! I wanna learn, it looks fun! Just teach me the basics for now~”

Supportive boyfriend right here.

Will look up playthroughs and explanations of the lore in his own time to get a better understanding.

If he knows a little more, than it can be something the both of you enjoy!

If it’s a franchise like LoTR or something similar, he’ll definitely put the movies on when it’s movie night.

Cue Joong asking you about your favourite and least favourite parts about the franchise.

If there are any spin-off titles, he’ll ask if you recommend watching them too.

May end up becoming a fantasy nerd himself.

Makes you little memorabilia whenever he can.

Honestly loves how large your imagination must be for you to be into fantasy.

성화 (Seonghwa)

He kinda just goes “Woah...” at first.

You think he doesn’t like it; he was sitting there more or less speechless.

When he sees your dejected face, Hwa panics.

Because he does like it, he’s just surprised he hadn’t caught on sooner.

Reassures you that he is interested, and pokes at you to continue talking about it.

Cue several cute interested Hwa sounds

Asks if you have any merch you wanna show him.

He hasn’t told you, but he’s started looking into the franchise for himself.

Might not end up being his taste, but he still keeps a small interest in it.

It was something you were interested in after all.

Chuckles to himself when he sees you really into the series.

Something about you excited about the fantasy franchise you were into was endearing.

Always lends an ear to your theories and headcanons

You surprise him-

He swears you’ve just described an entirely new novel to him.

The headcanon is just that detailed.

Definitely encourages you to try creative writing/design courses to see if you could take your interests further

Asks if you want to create your own fantasy series.

Supportive boyfriend #2 over here~

As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

윤호 (Yunho)

He’s honestly more excited than you are to be honest

Bounces like a child when you describe the lore to him.

If the stars in his eyes could get any brighter, they would. He is literally the pleading eyes emoji

You mention that you’ve created original characters inspired by the franchise, and he almost pounces on you with even more questions.

Will ask if you’ve created a character based off of himself.

Which you have, and when you show him, he gets even more excited - if that’s even possible.

Will ask you to explain the character’s entire backstory.

Falls in love with you even more - if he even can at that point.

Finds every way possible to have you talk about any and everything fantasy related.

Calls you in the middle of the night to listen to you ramble about your latest character design.

Tells all the members that you’ve created a character about him and boasts about it for months.

You might have another fantasy nerd on your hands now.

여상 (Yeosang)

Kind of a fantasy nerd himself.

So, when you reveal that you’re into fantasy, he kinda goes “Oh? Me too!”

Excited giggles from both of you

Cue fantasy themed date nights...you cuties

Curled up in a blanket together with a load of snacks, watching your favourite movies together.

Oh god the theory discussions you two have.

Now you two can call each other at God forbidden times of the night and talk about your favourite series.

Since he’s the only one who knows, he’s glad only he gets to see that excited grin on your face when you talk about the show.

Low-key starts boasting about it too.

Like, only he can see you when you’re this cute, you know?

You’d take his drones away if he told any of the boys about your fantasy shows, so it becomes your shared little secret~

Buys you cosplay pieces so you can dress up as your favourite character.

Compliments you for days.

Literally so pretty :(

Takes a thousand pictures (Yes, he keeps a set as his background)

He’s already dressed up as Harley Quinn, so he’s more than happy to dress up as one of the major ships.

Especially if it’s your favourite ship too.

Conventions! Omg you’d go to as many conventions as you could together.

Couple goals~

Singing to soundtracks together as you get ready.

Definitely uses it as a way to tease you.

Sees you having a fan moment over a character and pretends to get all pouty.

“Your boyfriend’s right here, but you’re only focusing on them? Fine then...”

Laughs when he sees the blush on your face

Of course, he gets the same treatment from you.

Healthy relationships, we love to see it. Now where do I get this?

산 (San)

Cannot control the absolute look of admiration in his face at all.

Looks at you with all the wonder in the world. His eyes’ sparkle :(

It may sound a little confusing at first to him, but hearing you describe it with so much passion warms his heart.

Asks you to take the plot step-by-step, so he can understand it a little better

Watches some of it when he can, and he can definitely see the appeal

Interesting characters, an entirely different world, no wonder you love it so much.

He has his games, and you already knew about them, so he’s happy he knows about you more, ‘hidden’ interests.

When he heard you ask him not to find it weird after you’re caught having a fan moment, he pouts immediately.

Why would he find it weird that you were a fan of something? He was quite the fanboy himself, after all

Spends a considerable amount of time reassuring you that he doesn’t find your interests or you weird.

No one is feeling insecure about liking a franchise that makes them happy on his watch.

Buys you merch as soon as it releases.

Little excited claps when he sees your reaction.

It soon becomes your favourite merch item and he’s so proud.

Sees you wearing it literally wherever you can

When you invite him to have a movie marathon with you after he finishes his schedule, San swears he’s head over heels because he agrees without hesitation.

No second thought required

Be prepares to have several more marathons while he asks a million questions at once.

Might have to create a PowerPoint for this cutie.

민기 (Mingi)

Honestly, he’s kinda lost at first

You kinda have to tell him again and he goes “Oh...I get it!”

Does not get it.

A bit like San, a presentation may be needed at some point.

When he kinda gets it, this baby gets really excited, but he’s almost a little sad.

Because you didn’t tell him until now, you know?

Asks you about the entire main cast, and your favourite character.

Finds you watching your show and quietly sits beside you

He wants to try and understand the plot for himself.

Gets so engrossed, his eyes turn into the pleading eye emoji

He’s so cute, I swear-

Honestly, Mingi finds it so cool that you enjoy fantasy.

“Y/n, can we watch it together from now on? I really like it!”

Yeah, you might end up marrying that man right there and then.

Starts asking you to introduce him to other shows you like that you think he might like as well.

Ends up with a full list and starts watching them all.

I mean all of them

Hell, I think you’ll turn him into a fantasy nerd as well.

Borrows one of your merch hoodies and wears it around the house.

It’s his now :(

Please, he looks so small

You end up buying him a matching hoodie

Refuses to take it off unless he has to.

Listens to all of your fan ravings

Learns about all of your favourite ships.

High-key starts analysing them with you

Yep- you’ve got a fantasy nerd on your hands now, enjoy!

우영 (Wooyoung)

Okay, excited child alert

Another one who literally bounces when you tell him. Gives you puppy eyes for days.

Why didn’t you tell him sooner?

Bugs you constantly about the shows you like and your favourite character.

Which leads him to go on an internet deep-dive (Definitely on Twitter)

He enjoys cooking, so he finds a way to cook the food from the show.

And holy shit it tastes better than you imagined.

Once he sees your reaction, Wooyoung makes it his mission to surprise you with dishes from the show.

Late nights binging your favourite shows together is now a must.

Does kinda laugh a little too loud in your ear, but you’re used to it.

In all truth, you appreciate that he wants to watch it with you

He may be watching it with you, but he also loves seeing your reaction to what’s happening on screen

Please, he thinks you’re the cutest human on earth.

Maybe he takes a picture or two. Maybe

Finds really cute keepsakes from the show while he’s on tour and buys them for you

Takes a picture of them and send them to you with the caption, ‘Look what I got~’

You literally squeal and call him immediately

A proud smile on his face when he hears your voice

You’re rambling thank yous in every language you know and Wooyoung’s there on the other line giggling

Yeah, you’re being spoiled with merch from now on.

Precious baby :(

종호 (Jongho)

Probably has the most neutral response out of all the boys

Kinda just goes, “Oh, that’s cool, fantasy’s really interesting.”

Low-key sounds uninterested, but trust me, he is. Even if it’s just a tad.

Jongho strikes me as the type to not tell you that he’s learning about your favourite show.

You’ll be watching an episode and he walks in, “Oh, [character]’s pairing with [character] is really neat. They wrote them really well.”

“Huh..? How do you know..?”

You thought he wasn’t interested in the show and he giggles at your confusion.

Granted, he isn’t into the idea of fantasy as the others are, but if it’s what makes you happy, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little about it.

Let’s you take him to conventions and helps you hold the bigger items you struggle with so you don’t drop everything.

Thinks you look amazing in full cosplay.

Lets you experiment on him from time to time.

You get him in some makeup, contacts and give him a prosthetic piece to put over his head.

He thinks he looks pretty good. Might consider trying it again sometime.

He’ll be shopping online and see something.

“Isn’t that from y/n’s favourite..?”

Buys it and surprises you the next time you have a date together.

“Oh? When did you get this? I love it”

“Ah, you know~ I was browsing and it reminded me of you.”

Ends up seeing you take it everywhere

Smiles to himself each time and refuses to tell you why.

Out of all the merch you own, you take the one he bought you with you everywhere

He’s touched.

Doesn’t always pay 100% attention when you’re watching tv together, but enough that he’s aware of the plot line, but not the finer details.

You may not have convinced him to be a fan, but you have turned your boyfriend into a casual watcher.

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todoscript · 4 years

Note

10, Tamaki Amajiki, fluff or smut

Support

prompt: 10. “You really shouldn’t touch that… I told you.” genre: fluff. pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader word count: 2.0k+ warnings: mentions of insecurities.

author’s note: This is longer than a drabble should be but I couldn’t control myself. Also, this is my first time writing for Tamaki so I hope I did well portraying him. Big thank you to @burnedbyshoto for being my beta reader as well as recommending the title for this work!

Tamaki Amajiki has experienced an extraordinary amount of circumstances in his life so far that not many boys his age could even imagine to go through. He’s fought crooks, robots, supervillains, hell even the yakuza, and has managed to come out in one piece every time and claim victory. Of course, he has his training and studies from a prestigious hero school to thank for equipping him with the tools he needs to combat such peril. However, no amount of training or experience could truly prepare him for this new, menacing adversary.

A classroom full of school children.

Being a trio backed up by the honorable title of The Big 3, Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki were given the opportunity to represent U.A. High School as they speak to classrooms of elementary students next week. This was a chance to talk with the younger generation and encourage them to think about a possible career as a crime fighter, while also ensuring that their futures were in safe hands thanks to heroes like them.

As a shy, introverted person whose solution in these social situations is to envisage everyone in the form of vegetables, Tamaki was not keen on this idea. Kids were boisterous and contained way too much energy in their little bodies to handle, making it much harder to conjure them as potatoes in his head. Not only that, but these days they’ve grown judgemental and full of themselves. They boast about their newly developed quirks amongst each other at playgrounds, already comparing their abilities at such an early age. All in all, his fragile spirit cannot handle interacting with these miniature monsters.

Nejire and Mirio seemed much better suited for this task. They glowed with charisma, and their energetic personalities naturally drew people to them. No doubt, the kids will especially be fond of how receptive they are to their young and frisky attitudes. Tamaki felt he just paled in comparison behind their light; however, his two friends would not allow him to deem himself that way.

“C’mon Tamaki, you have so many things going for you!” assures an optimistic Mirio during lunch as Tamaki sulks in the thought of meeting the kids. “You have an amazing quirk! I bet if you show it off, the kids will love it.”

True, the ability to manifest certain animal attributes depending on whatever he digests could tide the youngsters into liking him. But at the same time, would they really be captivated that easily? Aren’t kids at that age more into flashy things like lasers and explosions? No one wants to see him with cow hooves and clam hands, not with Nejire spiraling concussive vitality from her palms and Mirio shooting right up out of solid ground.

“I… I don’t know if the kids would be into my quirk…” he murmurs, eyes averting to his twiddling thumbs beneath the table.

“Amajiki, if you’re aiming to be a Pro Hero, you can’t let a bunch of ten-year-olds deter you!” chides Nejire. She forks a bit of her strewn pasta.

“Easy for you to say, Hadou. You’re bubbly and approachable. Everyone always comes to you. Meanwhile, the freshmen were intimidated by me before I even spoke a word.” Tamaki broods at his plate of food that grows colder during the conversation, but he can’t muster an appetite to eat it. “I can’t imagine how the kids would feel.”

Nejire chews on her noodles with a pitched hum. The trill ceases the moment her eyes light up, an idea flickering in her head.

“Say, how about you visit ____ at support during hero training today? I bet she can hook you up with some flashy gear that they’ll like.”

The utter of your name sends Tamaki’s body rigid.

“Oop, I think you touched something you shouldn’t have, Nejire,” Mirio gestures to the steely expression written over their friend’s face.

Dealing with children was one thing, but you were another matter entirely.

Being enrolled at U.A. since their very first year, the senior students of the hero and support departments coincided together. They drew out each other’s potentials—whether it was fighting on the battlefield or producing new innovative gadgets in workshops. Naturally, within that time, Tamaki developed a fondness for you.

You were a spirited individual driven by your passion for creating and bringing out the very best out of everyone you worked with, which included himself. With him, you were patient, never one to discourage or berate him despite his nervous and awkward nature that he viewed as probably a displeasure to work with. You took all his strengths and weaknesses to heart, and created the right tools to make him shine in triumph.

If Tamaki is the dead night, then you are the moon and stars that lit up his dark twilight, enlightening the world with his true potential.

However, the boy has never brought up his feelings to you, driven back by the thought you didn’t reciprocate, or wanted to focus more on your future as a craftswoman rather than prattle with romance. To bring you up in his dilemma of having to interact with mere elementary school kids is the last thing he wants to do.

“I don’t—”

“C’mon Tamaki! This is the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone!” Nejire enthusiastically waves a finger ready to describe her expertly thought-out plan. “You come to ____ asking for some of her gear, the ordeal brings you closer together, and then boom, you naturally confess your feelings and then impress those kids next week!” She sits with a proud, lifted head and hands on her hips after explaining her master proposal.

“Hm that’s quite an ambitious plan, Nejire,” chuckles Mirio.

“Way too ambitious if you ask me,” Tamaki scowls, uncertainty forming in his features.

“Confessing to someone you’ve liked for so long doesn’t come that easily…”

Nejire pouts, spinning the last remnants of her pasta around her fork. “Well I say you should still think it over! If anything, the new gear could help.”

And so he does. Lunch soon passes in the next flutter of an eyelash. During an academic class, Tamaki ponders the idea a bit more until it’s eventually time for their hero training course.

Lo and behold, he’s standing right outside the development studio with wickedly narrow brows and contemplating eyes, acting like if he glared at the door hard enough, all his problems would be solved. With his feet cemented into the ground, he doesn’t budge for the next couple of minutes. His mind bounces between his predicament and the possible solutions at hand, reaching to a standstill. Ultimately, he knows nothing will come out of not making a decision, so after another second of thought, he decides to progress.

The steel door jars open at a slide of the handle and Tamaki ganders at the messy workspace before him. He navigates through a mess of gizmos and gadgets with careful hesitant steps.

“____? Are you in here? I, um, need your help with something,” he calls, tentative voice drawing out across the room.

“Tamaki? Is that you?” He hears the distance between your voices, “Sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute…”

He nods to no one in particular, standing in place as his fingers play with the hem of his white, hooded cape. Too late to turn back now, he thinks. While he dawdles, he can’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, eyeing the vast amounts of meticulously crafted contraptions and accessories all developed in a high school workshop.

The support course sure is something else, Tamaki regards the creativity such students have, being able to construct so many complicated gadgets. He doesn’t know how you do it, but supposes that was another charm about you that he admired so much.

Suddenly, a whirring noise catches his attention, and he turns in its direction. He spots a device flaring in place on a table across from him, the widget shifting and flashing into an assortment of colors that isn’t comfortable for his liking.

“Uh… ____… C-Can you come out real quick? I think there’s something wrong with this thing,” he warns, tone rising with every dissonant sound the device continues to resonate.

“OK Tamaki, I’m done. What do you need— Whoa!”

Your words are cut off by Tamaki, pulling you to him using vines sprouted from his fingers, thanks to the vegetables he managed to eat today. Confused, you brace against his chest as the evident droning whir increases in volume. Tamaki holds a wavering hand over the device.

“Ah wait, Tamaki, you really shouldn’t touch that!” you cautioned. However, Tamaki’s entire hand transforms into a giant clam that quickly envelopes the contraption just as it flares and reaches its peak. He contains the small burst of energy within his shell with a wince, preventing any catastrophe from befalling on both of you and the work studio.

“Hehe, told you,” you shakily laugh off which makes him sigh as he releases you from his steady grasp.

“____, you could’ve gotten severely hurt,” he chides.

“But I didn’t because of you, so thank you very much, Suneater,” you say with a grin. Tamaki slightly tugs his hood down to obscure the growing blush on his cheeks that threaten to expose his flustered reaction to your gratitude.

“It... It was nothing,” he manages. You nod in response before approaching the faulty contraption, shifting your gaze side-to-side to inspect the damage.

“Sorry about that, I think this is one of Hatsume’s inventions from Class 1-F.”

You toss it into a pile of other defective equipment, relaying in your mind to reprimand your junior later.

“Anyways, is there anything I can do for you, Tamaki? You said something about needing my help?” Ah, right, he nearly forgot. He slowly nods.

“I need some new gear…” he admits. A light of passion infused with curiosity dazzles in your eyes.

“What for? Going to face a new powerhouse crime organization next week? Ooh, maybe another gangster threat in the criminal underground? Or perhaps you need something to combat a future natural disaster?” you surmise, but Tamaki only avoids your gaze at all your grand guesses when comparing it to the true reason:

“I need something to impress these kids I’ll be talking to next week…” he mutters under his breath, as if embarrassed.

“Huh?” You knit your eyebrows, muddled by the answer. Tamaki’s head imbues with self-conscious, anxious thoughts about what you must be thinking. However, your response to his predicament is one that leaves him more perplexed than you are.

“Why? You don’t need any gear to impress anyone. You’re fine the way you are,” you say without a single pause or hint of doubt in your tone. Tamaki pauses, grabbing his bearings at your statement before eyeing his spread out hands, unsure.

“But I’m so plain, not flashy or charismatic like Mirio and Hadou… Would kids like me the way I am?” he urges the question with uncertainty, keeping his stare on his calloused palms.

Would you like me the way I am?

You reach out for his hands, holding your own over them and bringing his wavering gaze to peer into yours.

“Tamaki, the kids will like you for who you are as long as you’re passionate about what you’re aiming to do. And that’s to save everyone and become a hero, right?” you assure, slightly tilting your head.

“You protected me without even a thought in your mind just now. That makes you heroic and courageous,” you continue, “Your nervous and shy personality are just small little quirks about you that make you who you are. You don’t need to change that.”

A smile of pure adoration forms on your lips. “Plus it’s what I like so much about you.”

Tamaki’s eyes lift in realization at your statement, his hands slowly gripping yours from below like he may not have heard you correctly.

“You like me?” he repeats, and you nod your head.

“I’ve liked you since our first year, silly.” You giggle at the stunned look etched on his face.

“I…” his words are caught in his throat for a second over the growing developments, but with every ounce of his being, he musters them out, his tone laced in only warmth and affection for you.

“I’ve liked you too, ___, I-I always have. You were so dazzling that I couldn’t help but let these feelings for you grow, and now, I’m glad I got to say them to you.” He finally admits to all the emotions stirred inside him for the past three years, and your smile widens. You inch forward, planting a small peck on his cheek that renders him a flustered mess from the surprise.

“Alright, go show those kids who Suneater is next week!”

Nejire’s plan was a success, after all.

#bnha #bnha x reader #tamaki amajiki #mha #bnhabookclub #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha x reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #my writing #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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