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bemylord · 3 years

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↠ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴄʀᴀᴛᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴅʏ ↞

characters: gojo, sukuna, itadori, megumi, nanami, toji x fem!reader.

warnings: smut, aged up, marks/bruises, creampie, daddy kink [toji and nanami], oral [fem!receiving], degrade and praise kinks, grammar errors.

a/c: or s/o gave them scratches on their body. hc + drabble. kento's, toji's, and sukuna's part might be rough. also i may used inappropriate word don't blame me.

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ:

would be teasing you in the morning for being too horny to suppress your nails. although, he doesn't hide the fact he adores the little pain when his clothes touch places where you left stripes.

also likes those moments when you're leaving fingernail marks on his thighs or hips whilst sucking his dick. it'd be better spelled if i specify that gojo using your head as a toy for his pleasure.

would praise you for marks you've given him, labeling his muscular body as yours, letting your fingers traveling all over his back to the chest, outlining every muscle.

prefers to do it slow but deep, touching the spongy coil inside you with his every push, feeling your hands on the back as you're trying to take his dick, being capable of not losing your mushy mind at his sharp pushes as how he's overbearingly fucking you.

'giving me all your juices and marks you've gotten for your master' satoru might be playful during the training time, but you've known he likes to talk dirty and be dominant railing you. those marks perfectly suiting on his skin so why not leave them?

despite being overdose with your cum and a facial expression - you opened your mouth releasing ragged whimpers and arching your back, approaching towards gojo's chest in the climax, cumming all over the base - he'd thrust in you more 'till you'd turn into the drooling mess below.

'yes, honey, you're doing good, so good. constricting my dick so good' obscene squelches become louder, as you could feel satoru's released on your stomach. 'you did so well, honey, i'm gonna take good care of you'

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴊɪ:

okay, i think itadori would be the softest boy through all monsters we've got here.

but don't let his innocent face trick you. despite of the fact that most of the time he's a soft bun, he'll make you scream.

ok, make you scream and be asking if he isn't tempestuous.

he'd be disconcerted if you asked him to heal his back. for what? he thinks is a sort of a recall so he could remember what the two of you had been doing in the night and how loud you were while giving him your residue of cum.

he might take some photos of his skin pattern in marks so he could ogle at 'em later, repeating seconds where you were patterning his back.

'take off your shirt, yuji. i'll heal your back'

poor itadori is sitting on the couch totally discouraged as he heard your request. he glanced at you with a bambi look: eyes wide open, as if you said something vulgar. he aimlessly rubbed the back of his head, tossed his head back.

'but i like your marks, baby'

he whined, grabbing your palms in his, forcing you to sit on his lap, wrapping arms around your waist.

'you gave those stripes because you.. you were feeling good, yeah?'

you put your head down at his question but nodded, putting your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat.

'then i don't need your recovery, baby, let your marks stay until you'll add new ones'

ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ:

let people know what sex is. let it be a slogan for your intercourse.

he could fuck you all night due to his long-term capability and would be smug after intercourse as he'd watch the disorder [?] you did on his biceps.

mostly biceps, cause a man knows the main destination of his tongue, masterfully giving you an oral. goddamn that tongue.

he'd let you scratch his back as he'll know that it'd be possibility to show off the mark his love gave him. on other days, you're pulling his hair into your pussy, burying him even more, letting him to destroy you before the fun will start.

his arms full of red stripes. though it wasn't your fault - how can you inhibit yourself while toji is literally eating you like a meal?

'being waiting for my tongue, huh?' he's a teaser - you're at the edge of the bed, baring your dripping pussy to the one he can lick you as you need to whilst teasing and degrading you.

'being waiting to be demolished by me you little whore, don't you?'

you grabbed his strong biceps, dotted them in half-moons then squeeze as toji peeks at you.

'answer me, slut!'

his low voice makes you open widely your legs as not closed to squeeze his head. he's running his tongue on your crotch and labia, teasing you, forcing you to say how reckless and anguished you were without his tongue and fingers.

'yes, daddy, i-i've been waiting f-for you' you sharply breathe, letting out the whimpers, feeling his tongue playing with your swollen clit.

'i'm about to ruin you tonight, are you ready?' he giggled once more, getting into the little game he's been waiting for since he left the house.

ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ:

it is in their genetic code to make a woman scream but since megumi hasn't got a huge sexual experience as his father does, he'd be tender at first, asking abt your well-being, if he can move, etc..

when he watches at the mirror in the morning, he finds out his back and a few shoulders are drawing by your nails.

he'd be overwhelmed and speechless as he saw a reminder of the night.

'gumi will make up an excuse, sort of: 'i got into the fight with a curse, nothing special'. itadori'd have been asking him if he's okay, how it was but satoru isn't a naive one.

deep inside would be proud of himself that only he could put you on the pleasure, privately enjoying those patterns.

'y/n?' he pronounced your name in a question way, rubbing his shoulder aimlessly, as you glanced at him. you let out a quiet mooing as a response, staring as to how megumi taking off his school uniform.

'would you mind heal me a little?'

you smiled, coming closer to your boyfriend, grabbing a tube of medicine on the way.

'don't think i don't like your.. marks, just-'

'don't apologize, 'gumi, it's kinda chaos on your back' you giggled at your comparison, running with medicine on red stripes. his tensed and muscular body is overwhelming: those abs and pretty strong arms conquering every time you've got an opportunity to ogle.

'tho i love the chaos you made'

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ:

i'm certain you'll be scratching his back because nanami is packing - big dick energy, lol.

screaming his name as you've been drawing illegible patterns, mostly on his wide back, so lately he'd smirk at his reflection in the mirror.

those nights when you're trying to fill the lack patterns on his back by drawing lots of geometrical figures or promiscuous tracery.

every move with his tight white shirt at the office makes his stoic face change as he reminisces the night you gave that pleasant pain.

he wants to find half-moons littering his biceps as you were holding 'em while giving creampie on his dick.

if you want it spicy - trail your fingers on his back suddenly, giving nanami little goosebumps to switch his mood.

'darling, you want me to stop?' he unaware question left you desperate as nanami stopped pumping, left a soft kiss on your forehead. 'am i fucking you way too hard?' seldom moment of nanami being tender as he gets used to fuck recklessly 'till you'll be a dripping mess under his cock.

you didn't see fit to answer the question but smack your lips against his, as a silent response named: 'i'm fine, my love, you can move' your wet, deep, and in some way subtle kiss that doesn't fit on the action you've been doing. you trail your nails from the back of his neck to the coccyx, ogling as to how his facial expression changes.

'you want to be used like a slut you are, don't you?'

you couldn't respond, only purr as how nanami suddenly turned on into daddy. feeling how your empty pussy being filled out with a thick kento's cock again as he's making a demolishing [?] pushes.

'get what you want, slut, scratch my back so it'd dotted lately with your nails'

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ:

as for that rough man..

he gives hickeys - you give him patterns on his back.

he'd be exceedingly obsessed after had seen your marks on itadori's body. still, itadori is a vessel for him, so sukuna will be even more self-satisfied. why? a little reminder for the owner who took possession of your body at the night.

once he'll take possession of the body, itadori it'd be or someone else, he won't stop himself as long as his back will be patterns of yours nail on it.

he does literally everything to make you scratch his back, whether it be licking your swollen clit to the way your legs got shaken or fuck you on his lap.

'let the bastard see what matures did it the night' his pace increase as he uttered the phrase that makes the butterflies in your belly thrives off.

his lowly and husky voice intermingled with ragged breathing, little drops of sweat on his hairline as he crushes devastating punches, letting your moans out of your mouth.

you're digging into his skin on the back as he masterfully target into the spongy coil in your stomach, feeling as your orgasm is building up with his every hit. he wants to see his back littering in patterns of your nails, wants to have that sweet but stinging pain in the morning.

's-sukuna, ugh~' you let out a whimper as your cunt constricting creampie on his dick. he chuckled as your hole clenching his thick cock while nails trailing all over back.

//~~//

idk i start always from sukuna and i've got inspiration only on kento's part, that's why nanami and toji might be rough than a king.

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swordgayist · 3 years

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cultural appropriation in ATLA (hinduism edition)

i’m sure there’s already a ton of posts about this, but whatever, i’m still making one idc.

ATLA’s cultural appropriation, everyone knows about it, the white people don’t speak about it, and the asian and indigenous people get ignored. we know the cycle. but i wanted to come here and highlight some of the most prominent examples of ATLA abusing hinduism, as i am kinda sorta hindu (i was raised in a hindu household, i go to chinmaya mission, that kinda shit). i might forget some things so keep that in mind.

this is gonna be divided into 3 main sections, since there are different ways that they disrespect hinduism that i don’t wanna lump together.

and i’d say i know a lot about hinduism but that doesn’t make me an expert, obviously, so if other hindus have anything to add and/or correct then please do !! and if anyone else wants to share how their cultures were appropriated then please do that as well !!

so let’s get started shall we?

appropriating hinduism

1) the avatar

we’ll start with the most obvious example: the avatar itself

i know that there are parts of the avatar mythos that are taken from other cultures as well but the idea of the avatar itself is primarily from hinduism.

basically in hinduism, the term dashavatara refers to the 10 reincarnations of lord vishnu (the god of preservation), with avatar(a) meaning form or incarnation in sanskrit, and das(a) meaning ten. it was said that whenever the world was out of balance, lord vishnu would come down to earth in a certain form to restore balance. Each reincarnation is considered a different life with a different story. the avatars of lord vishnu are often considered the saviors of the world.

so basically, the central idea of the show and the actual name of the show is largely based on hinduism.

2) chakras

many different indian religions have a concept of chakras (chakra meaning wheel or circle in sanskrit), but hinduism is the one that primarily preaches the system of seven chakras, the version used in ATLA.

chakras connect the physical body to the ‘subtle’ body (referring more to the spirit and the psyche) by connecting parts of the body to aspects of the mind. the idea is that through different forms of steady meditation you can manipulate the different chakras and allow the pure flow of energy through the body.

the whole idea of chakras on ATLA is that aang has to unblock them all to let the cosmic energy flow through him so that he can go into the avatar state at will. so yeah, pretty much that whole idea was taken from hinduism.

3) terminologies

these are just a few terms that were taken from hinduism. i’m pretty sure there are more that i can’t think of right now but yeah.

“agni” kai

i’ll be honest i don’t know where the ‘kai’ part is from, i don’t think it’s from hinduism but if it is well fuck me i guess. ‘agni’ in hinduism is the god of fire, so the creators used it in ‘agni kai’, the name for a firebending duel.

“bumi”

this is in reference to the hindu word for ‘earth’, which is bhoomi. this is also in reference to our goddess of earth, bhoomi devi. also this doesn’t really bother me but i wonder if the creators knew that bhoomi is a name typically used for women (as are most hindi names ending in ‘i’/‘ee’).

in general, concepts like having multiple complex gods (the spirits) who are capable of good and evil and the reincarnation cycle are prominent in a lot of asian cultures, including (and arguably primarily) hinduism.

mocking hinduism

now we get into the mockery of hinduism in ATLA, because it is very much there.

1) whoever the fuck that baboon guy in the spirit world was

now what the fuck was this.

i mean i wouldn’t say this is the most egregious example of them making fun of brown people but lord why did this even need to be there? this random guy from the spirit world has an indian accent ? and is fervently chanting ‘om’ for some reason, and it’s clearly meant to be seen as comical. also portraying brown people as monkeys....... really.

2) combustion man/sparky sparky boom man

when rewatching ATLA in 2019 i actually had no idea that this was a thing, because the last time i had watched it was as a kid and i didn’t finish it.

so lord was i in for a surprise when i saw...

now... now what.

if you didn’t know, combustion man’s ‘third eye’ is designed to replicate the hindu god of destruction, lord shiva. right down to the vibhuti on his forehead (referring to the three line markings around the third eye).

in hinduism, lord shiva’s third eye is used to reduce people to ashes, though as far as i can recall, not very frequently. the primary significance of the third eye is that it represents the ability of higher spiritual thought and higher consciousness.

the ATLA writers take the ACTUAL significance of the third eye, throw it out the window, and then take its destructive abilities to make a super duper cool and dangerous new firebending technique.

and if that wasn’t bad enough, the actual person who uses this technique, and is meant to emulate a GOD who is PRAISED, is a scary, burly, half metal man who is a villain and an assassin. not to mention the design of his facial hair replicates that super duper scary “terrorist” depiction of brown people, particularly of muslims, that white people are so thoroughly terrified of for no reason.

this is a parody of a god, and they portrayed him as this terrifying, maniacal fucking assassin who, along with p’li, the combustion bender from LOK, is constantly referred to as a “third-eyed freak”. i’ve made this analogy before and i’ll do it again, this is like making jesus into a hitman.

now onto my favorite example...

3) guru pathik

ah, this motherfucker.

i don’t really have any problems with him as a character, i mean hell, must’ve taken a fuck ton of patience to handle aang’s “why would choose cosmic energy over katara” bullshit.

but we all know it, we see it plain as day, don’t even try to deny it.

“guru” literally just means teacher or guide, so i don’t really know why pathik needed to be referred to as “guru” so distinctively from aang’s other teachers and guides, but that’s just extremely trivial compared to all the other issues with this character.

first of all what is this character design? what is he even wearing? if they’re trying to replicate the clothes of swamis and priests and stuff this is already wrong, realized people don’t dress like this. and why the fuck does he have an indian accent? and why was this indian accent done by a non indian (brian george)?

once again, the poor but extremely heavy indian accent is clearly meant to be mocking, if it wasn’t, they wouldn’t’ve gone out of their way to get a non indian person to DO an indian accent, and instead they would’ve just gotten an actual indian person to play the role.

and oh yeah, the onion and banana juice. because hindus just eat weird shit right.

whether it’s actually weird or not, the show certainly portrays it as weird. and as far as i know no hindu actually fucking drinks onion and banana juice.

ironic because brown people can absolutely destroy white people in cooking. but i digress.

i know what you’re all waiting for. because the guru apparently didn’t have enough fun with guru pathik, so they just had to come back to him in book 3:

where do i begin.

so this is obviously john o’bryan’s super funny and hilarious depiction of pathik as a hindu god.

usually when a god has multiple arms it’s to carry an array of things, from flowers to weapons to instruments, and one hand is typically free to bless devotees (ie. goddess durga and lord vishnu respectively):

but of course white people see this as weird and so they make fun of it, hence guru pathik having multiple arms just flailing about aimlessly (save for the two that are being used to carry the aforementioned onion and banana juice).

then there’s the whole light behind pathik’s head which is usually depicted in drawings of hindu gods to show that they are celestial.

also what the fuck is he holding? is that supposed to be a veena? because this is what a veena looks like:

and i assume the reason this was added was to mock the design of goddess saraswathi, who carries a veena:

but that right there in the picture of pathik looks more like a tambura than a veena.

and it also just kinda looks like a banjo?

but i guess the animators just searched up “long indian instrument” and slapped it on there. actually no, that’s giving them too much credit, they probably didn’t search it up at all.

and then the actual scene is pathik singing crazily about chakras tasting good or something while playing the non-veena and it’s all supposed to be some funky crazy hallucination that aang is having due to sleep deprivation. just some crazy dream, just as crazy as talking appa and momo sparring with swords or tree-ozai coming to life.

our gurus and swamis and sadhus and generally realized people are very respected in hinduism, they’re people we look up to and honor very much. and our GODS are beings that we literally worship. and the writers just take both and make caricatures out of them for other white people to laugh at.

4) other shit

before we move to the next portion i just wanna mention there are also smaller backhanded jabs that i can’t really remember now, but one example was when zuko was all “we’ll be sure to remember that, guru goody goody”. or when a character would meditate and say “om” only when the meditation is supposed to be portrayed as comical or pointless. or in bitter work when sokka was rambling on about karma. small things like that. but moving on.

south asian representation, or lack thereof

now i finally get to the “losing” hinduism part. by this i mean the lack of actual representation there is of south asians (the region where hinduism is primarily practiced) despite the fact that hinduism plays such a big role in the show’s world design.

i think it’s safe to say that broadly the main cast consists of aang, katara, sokka, zuko, toph, azula, iroh, mai, ty lee, and suki.

a grand total of none of these characters are south asian. the writers don’t even attempt to add any south asian main characters.

there are characters with dark skin, like haru and jet, but a) they’re not confirmed to be south asian and don’t have any south asian features or south asian names, b) they’re side characters, so they don’t count as representation, and c) even if they were south asian and main characters, jet wouldn’t even count because he’s portrayed as a terrorist.

the ONLY truly south asian character we get is fucking guru pathik. so yeah. not representation.

i don’t get how the creators of this show rip off of hinduism (among many other south asian cultures they rip off of), mock indians, and then don’t even have the decency to HAVE a main character who is south asian.

i’ve never gotten a chance to compile all this, and this definitely isn’t all the creators have done, but i hope this was somewhat informative.

#atla #cultural appropriation #hinduism #guru pathik #combustion man #chakras #avatar

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ptergwen · 3 years

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Hey could you write one where the reader helps tom, who's heavily drunk, get home? Somehow tonight he's a sad drunk and cries about random things to the reader it amuses the reader, but later surprised when tom cries saying that he thinks the reader is dating someone else because he saw the reader going out with a guy days before??

warnings: lots of drinking mentions and swearing

a/n: woah this is pretty long 😭 got a little carried away heh enjoy

“you’re where?” you ask into the phone, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of tom’s drunken speech.

he seems to have gotten himself into a little bit of trouble. all his critical thinking skills blocked out by the alcohol, he ended up calling you. you’re now determined to find out where your friend is and help him home. tom has a track record for doing stupid shit when he’s drunk.

“th’ pub,” tom slurs back. “you wanna join me? have a drink?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. he’s leaning on the bar, but his arm slides and draws an oh, shit out of him. so he doesn’t hear your giggling, you put a hand over your mouth. “y/n/n, you coming?” he asks sort of desperately once he has his balance.

“yeah, tom. i’m on my way,” you reply and head to your front door, keys already in your hands. “hurry,” he commands, then takes a sip of beer from his nearly empty bottle. he’s not making this easy for you. the drunker he gets, the harder it is to drag his ass out of there. “i am, i am. see you soon.” you hang up with a sigh.

it doesn’t take you long to get to the pub, which is a good and sometimes bad thing, this time good. you find parking and speed walk inside. your eyes instantly scan the place for your buzzed best friend. he’s not hard to find in one of his signature white t-shirts, hair slicked back. he’s hunched over in the stool, and his head is down. that’s concerning.

the bartender is cleaning up a spill nearby him when you approach the bar. tom whines out a series of, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m really sorry,” to him. he’s crying. weeping would be more accurate. his whole body moves while he sobs into his arms. you sit down next to him and put a hand on his back.

he looks over at you with tears falling down his cheeks. “tom, what happened?” you frown, already turned to face him. his eyes water again. “i- i spilled my drink and it got all over and i feel so bad, y/n,” tom tells you in a high pitched tone, the bartender placing down another beer in front of him.

you shoot him a glare because he’s clearly had enough. he swings the rag he was using to clean over his shoulder and shrugs. isn’t part of his job knowing when to cut people off?

“thank you,” tom mumbles to the guy, who gives him a nod before tom grabs the beer off the counter. you snatch it away from him. “oh, no. that’s enough already.” you put his drink down on the other side of you. that encourages tom to cry some more, hiding his face in his arms for a second time. “no fair!” he yells and sounds like a child while doing it.

“you’re gonna have a really bad hangover, or puke this all up, or both,” you explain your confiscation to him. “probably both.” tom lifts his head up, eyes sad yet hopeful at the same time. he grabs your hand with both of his. “will you take care of me?” the question, mostly how he asks it, makes your heart clench.

“of course. let’s get you home, okay?” you stand up and loop an arm around his back. tom follows suit, you pulling him towards you and grabbing his jacket off the stool. “no, i wanna stay with you.” he insists, stumbling forward as you lead him towards the exit. you’re hoping he already paid because you don’t feel like that sketchy bartender coming after you.

“sure, you can spend the night. we haven’t had a sleepover in a while,” you agree, pushing open the door with your foot, arms preoccupied with tom. your offhanded joke makes him emotional again. there’s more to it, though. “it’s- it’s been so long,” tom sniffles out. “aw,” you chuckle and tighten your arm around him.

he used to stay over your place a lot before he moved in with the boys and harry. he misses being able to crawl into your bed and snore while you lay in his arms. you also miss it, so it’s funny how neither of you have said anything.

the tears in tom’s eyes make his vision blurry, which in turn makes him trip over a rock. “sorry, man,” he apologizes to it, you steadying him and letting out another laugh. he’s funny when he’s so far gone. “we’re almost at the car,” you let him know with a tiny smile. “‘mkay,” tom nods and wipes his tears away, leaning into you for the rest of the way there.

tom does fine for most of the car ride. there’s an incident where he gags and you almost pull over, but he ends up not needing it. he feels so awful he nearly puked in your car that it makes him cry yet again. you promise him it’s fine, that you don’t mind and everything is fine. you’ve never seen drunk or sober tom act like this.

you bring him straight to your room when you get home, dropping him on the bed and huffing. tom falls onto his back. he closes his eyes and purses his lips. “do you need anything?” you pant, answering yourself before he does. “you should have some water.” “ok,” tom mumbles and drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “ma’am,” he adds.

rolling your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to get him a water bottle. you start to wonder why he got so plastered in the first place. seeing him in this state beyond worries you. you love tom too much to watch him fall apart. you really love him.

you come back to your room and flick on the lights. tom throws an arm over his head, mouth agape and a groan escaping it. “shit, sorry,” you giggle, shutting the lights off. “you’re a madwoman,” he rasps back. he sounds slightly more aware of himself now. “well, you’re a madman. here.” you toss him the water.

tom obviously doesn’t catch it, so it lands on his stomach. he rips off the cap and goes to take a sip while laying down. he’ll throw up for real this time if he does that.

“tom, tom, tom,” you murmur to yourself in a playfully disapproving tone. you take a seat next to him, tugging at his hand to get him to sit up. he smiles lazily and brings the bottle to his lips, watching a smile spread across your own face while he takes a sip. the two of you make eye contact for long enough that you notice something visibly shift within him.

tom looks down at his lap instead, taking his mouth off the water with a pop. he then exhales through his nose rather reflectively. you take notice of that, squinting at him in the dark. “what?” you wonder aloud. a few seconds go by without tom saying anything, deciding if it’s worth bringing up. he figures he might as well say it because it’ll come out eventually.

“the other day,” tom starts, voice deep and alcohol still in his system. “were you out with someone? a guy?” you’re not quite sure what he’s referring to. “huh?” is all you say back. “harry was picking up dinner, said he saw you on a date at the restaurant.” he gets quieter during the second part, almost upset. you sit up from the comfortable position you were in.

“harry was there? i didn’t know that,” you tell him as you try to piece together the story. tom takes that as confirmation. “so, you were on a date?” he caps the water and throws it somewhere on your bed. “i need another drink.” “it wasn’t a date- hang on.” it finally clicks with you why he was getting wasted by himself in the latest hours of the night.

“you were drinking because you thought i went on a date?” you ask tom softly, another smile pulling at your lips. “um...” he blows out of his mouth and nods, still nodding as he speaks. “yeah. made me feel shitty.” what you said now registers with him. he perks up ever so slightly. “but, you said it wasn’t a date?” “no,” you quickly dismiss. “he’s in one of my classes.”

“we were working on an assignment, and i thought having him over would give him the wrong idea.” you’re grinning by the end of your explanation because of what you feel is about to come next. tom beams back at you, moving closer to you on the bed. “good,” he affirms and brings a hand up to your cheek. his wide pupils search yours, thumb brushing your skin.

“‘cuz i like you, and love you.” his voice drops to a whisper. “love you a lot.” “i like you too,” you breathe out, enjoying the way his warm hand makes your skin tingle. “and, i love you.” “wish i knew that before i got fucking pissed,” tom mumbles, but seems unbothered because he leans in to kiss you. you’re met with his beer breath before giving him a push back.

“speaking of, you’re still drunk,” you laugh and comb your fingers through his matted curls. “i’m not,” tom protests, ducking away from you. scoffing, you retract your hand with a knowing look. “you are. i can smell it. we should go to sleep, tom.” he caves and lays down, letting his head fall in your lap. “fine. can we at least cuddle?”

he’s relentless.

but, you say yes.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut

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lex-n-weegie · 2 years

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HEY YOU 4

YEAH, @nerdstreak, @candyheartedchy, @magicalselfshipping, and @queenieboo22

MERRY HECKING CHRISTMAS!!!!

Surprise!!! I thought I'd make a special little Christmas gift for you 4!! It took me about 6 hours total, I really hope you like it!!

And ofc, here's everyone separately!!

I would have drawn more people, but unfortunately I only got the idea to do this yesterday and this drawing alone took me so long 😭

I refuse to leave them unthanked however!! So, special thanks to @ava-ships, @spooky-toastsnew, @jelly-buttons, @widowsdarling, @sapient-nes, and of course all of my followers, just for being here and being inspiring to me.

I actually wanted to do little special messages for you guys, but I'ma do that under the cut because it's gonna get loooong haha

Nerdstreak

About the drawing: I decided to draw Hannah working on DEL!! Right now she's trying to make sure it looks all good before seeing how the face projection goes. And yes, the background is a moon with a light blue hue. Gotta include your husband in it somehow!! I do hope that the glasses don't look off, I've never drawn glasses like them before haha.

About you: Gosh, where do I even begin? You've been so so SO inspiring to me during the whole time I've known you!! You got me into selfshipping, you've recently(ish) helped me finish a while story, something I've NEVER done before, and you've helped me with countless drawings and even a few s/i designs! Not to mention that you've been a great friend, and helped me with a situation I was puzzled with. You truly are amazing and inspiring, don't forget that!! I'm really happy we're friends, it makes me feel better about myself. I was so shy talking to others, but now I'm friends with so many of the folks I look up to. Little me would be so happy :)

Candyheartedchy

About the drawing: I was thinking about doing your bug bunny s/i, or your Scratch s/i, hell I even considered your new Mario s/i (as I am hyperfixated on the franchise lol), but in the end I went with the one who you seemed to be thinking about a lot rn. And btw, I love her design so much!! It's so simple yet so eye catching. I decided to do a small little callback to a small story you wrote with her and Fethery(def spelled his name wrong), a story of how they first met. She's sitting on the beach with an easel, trying to think of what she wants to paint. I also specifically 1. Put 2 seagulls in the back to represent the couple :) and 2. Put the clouds around her head, as if she's got her head in the clouds. I also remembered that pink is your favorite color, soooo pink beach! Also I hope the eyes are okay, I somewhat struggled 😭

About you: Okay so. Hi. You barely know me haha, but I've been seeing your art for a long time thanks to people reblogging it. Took me a bit to follow, but man was it worth it. Your art is just...so, SO pretty and beautiful!! It makes me feel all soft and relaxed, not to mention me awwing or laughing when you draw your selfships!! (I mean laughing as in you doing something funny, not me like thinking your selfship is funny- you get what I mean right???) I aspire to be similar to you some day!! Especially in the drawing comics area, each time I try I can only get to page 2 😔

Magicalselfshipping

About the drawing: I soooorta tried to so a special spin with the hair, which I hope is okay!! I wanted it to be spikey but soft at the same time, representing that while she lives in a villain castle, she's actually pretty kind. Also I AM SO SORRY I FORGOT THE EYEBROWS BUT IT'S WAY TOO LATE FOR ME TO ADD THEM NOW AND LIKE AAAAAA. Also, I believe that once you said that Kamek taught you magic, so I figured that yours would end up looking similar to his!! I also designed the background with him in mind, doing his little magic pattern and coloring it blue and a (almost) white, but like his robes and hat!

About you: Okay so 1. Mario Selfshipper hell freaking yeah 2. I was actually a little...rude at first I guess. I saw what you identified as, and I was admittedly sceptical. But I put some thought into it, looked at that one ask you answered, and looked it up. You kinda helped me be even more open minded, and for that, I thank you. Also, I never even thought of someone selfshipping with a blue little wizard, but seeing yours with him is so cute!! Especially since you've loved him for a long, long time, like me and Weegee!! I also enjoy your art, it's unique and I enjoy seeing it!!

Queenieboo22

About the drawing: I def wanted the spooky Queen to have a spooky vibe, so I made her as spooky as I could without it being full out horror. The hair curls may look odd, and I'm sorry about that, but I was trying my best to make them look like the Dark Moon from Luigi's Mansion 2, just in hair form!! I also made the shadow part of the background a slight blue, for your king ofc. And you know I HAD to add some boos!! I did put a bit more white in the middle however, as I have the small hc that Boos softly glow when in the dark, like a night light!!

About you: Oh my GOD your art is so freaking good!!!! Like holy crap!!!! You can make such super complicated designs and just, draw them over and over, perfectly!!! It's so insane and awesome!!! I still treasure that b-day gift you made me it's so goooooood. Also, you're just so sweet!! Like, super duper sweet!! You're so kind and caring and welcoming, it's awesome!! Also, anyone who loves spooky/creepy things is automatically like 100% cooler. You also inspire me with my art and s/is, hell my newest FNAF SB s/i, Evelyn, was somewhat inspired by your FNAF s/i! Your s/is are so unique, yet they fit in perfectly in any universe you put them in. I wanna be more like that myself!! Also, I'm happy we're friends, I still look up to you a lot and it's still so cool to me that I'm friends with people I look up to.

#lexi doodles #nerdstreak #candyheartedchy #magicalselfshipping #queenieboo22 #selfship community #self shipping community #self ship community #selfshipping community #surprise gift #merry christmas #and happy holidays #and ofc the other folks I appreciate #ava ships #spooky toastsnew #jelly buttons #widowsdarling #sapient-nes

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

I've read fics where Hermann disapproves of PDAs but what about the reverse? As in he's so stunned at winning the most amazing man in the Shatterdome (6 phds, literal rockstar, gorgeous Newt) that he deliberately provokes contact and shows of affection. Just to show off to people and send a clear back off signal. And Newt just dotes on him obliviously.

ok this one is another super old prompt and when I was writing it this week it KINDA got away from me. but I hope everyone enjoyyyys. partially inspired from conversations with @k-sci-janitor 👀 totally sfw, except for one brief reference

anyway, a fic about hermann being all affectionate with newt and also discovering what relaxation is

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The day after the world doesn’t end, Hermann brings Newt breakfast in bed.

Honestly, it surprises Newt more than the whole world not ending thing. Up until the previous evening, after all, Newt was pretty damn sure the guy absolutely hated him, and that if Hermann was gonna do something as out of character as bringing him breakfast, it surely meant he’d spat in it first. Or maybe poisoned it. If hated isn’t the right word, Newt would say Hermann at the very least barely tolerated. And then the whole sharing the neural load thing happened. And, after that, hugging, not once, but twice, and then falling asleep in bed together. And now Hermann’s perched on the edge of his bed (which they shared while they slept) and handing him a plate.

“You had quite the busy day yesterday,” Hermann says kindly. Hermann has never spoken to Newt kindly before. Atop the plate are two pieces of toast, a soft-boiled egg, and a mug of coffee. The coffee and toast (Newt notices) are exactly the shade he prefers. He wonders if Hermann picked up on it before or after the whole mind-melding thing. Before wouldn’t surprise him—Hermann has always been weird about noticing details like that. The egg, however, is something purely Hermann in taste. “I imagine you could use a nice spot of breakfast,” he adds.

Newt shoves his glasses on and blinks at Hermann groggily. He struggles to sit up, partially tangled in his sheets, and then takes the plate. A little bit of coffee sloshes down onto one of the slices of toast. “Are you wearing my sweatshirt?” he says.

Hermann smiles and looks down at the ragged old MIT sweatshirt he’s tossed on. He may have a few inches on Newt, but he’s still one skinny motherfucker, and it hangs almost comically off his frame. “I am,” he says. “I poked around in your closet, I hope you don’t mind. My clothing was in a rather sorry state.”

Sorry state is an understatement for both of them. Newt’s surprised they haven’t been formally ordered to burn the shit they wore to the bone slums yet. Blood, dirt, and kaiju guts aside, Newt’s, at least, reeks to high heaven with sweat. “No worries,” Newt says. He picks up the coffee and blows on it. He wonders where Hermann got coffee that smells this good. It’s been hard to find anything decent and non-instant on the base these days, and (thanks to limited rations) chain shops like Starbucks cost an arm and a leg for even a small. He also wonders what people thought when they saw Hermann strutting around the base with bedhead in a sweatshirt that obviously wasn’t his. Newt almost wants to blush on his behalf. Scandalous.

Before Newt can so much as take a sip of the coffee, Hermann is suddenly unbuckling and shucking off his grey slacks. “Dude!” Newt yelps, flushing bright red to the tips of his ears. Hermann blinks at him innocently. “What are you doing?”

It’s not so much that Newt is upset as it is that it’s so wildly out of character for Hermann that he feels he owes it to Hermann to act at least moderately scandalized. In all his years of knowing and working alongside Hermann, he’s never so much as seen Hermann’s bare wrist before. Now he’s in Newt’s goddamn bed flashing calves, and thighs, and neatly-pressed little white briefs… Hermann rolls his eyes and tosses the slacks (unfolded!) onto Newt’s desk chair. “Making myself comfortable,” he says. “Would you like me to stop?”

Does Hermann iron his underwear? It would be at odds with the rest of his clothing if he did, which is usually in various stages of frumpy to outright wrinkled, but Newt can’t think of how else it would look like that. He wonders if Hermann’s stitched his name on the inner waistband. It seems like the kind of thing Hermann would do. Newt suddenly realizes he’s been staring at Hermann’s briefs (and, worse still, considering how cute Hermann looks in just them and Newt’s sweatshirt) for an uncomfortably long time, so he quickly shakes his head and drags his eyes to Hermann’s face. One of Hermann’s eyebrows is quirked up. Newt hasn’t been subtle. “No,” he says. He clears his throat. “No, dude, you’re—all good.”

He chokes down a too-hot sip of coffee to have something to do with his mouth.

Hermann smirks.

The bedcovers are drawn back. Hermann slips under them and drapes an arm across Newt’s chest, his hand curling protectively over Newt’s hip. With his other hand he snags Newt’s coffee from his grasp and takes a sip. Newt watches his jaw and throat work as he swallows it, a funny feeling blooming in the pit of his stomach. The mug is handed back over, Hermann’s fingers brushing against Newt’s, which make Newt feel even funnier. “Newton,” Hermann declares. “I think we ought to have sex.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Can I finish my breakfast first?”

“Certainly,” Hermann says.

Newt’s heart pounds as he spreads a little packet of margarine across one of the pieces of toast; he can feel Hermann’s eyes on him, never straying once. Hermann’s hand draws little circles on his hip. Newt drops his toast twice to the plate before he can successfully take a bite, and even when he does, he doesn’t taste it. Hermann’s fingers dip under the hem of his t-shirt. Newt swallows his toast. “Why?” he says.

Apparently it’s the right question. Hermann nods, like he’s pleased Newt has asked. Like they’re talking theories or something. “I came to the conclusion while I fetching your coffee,” Hermann says. “It occurred to me that I wouldn’t have gotten up at seven in the morning to get coffee for just anyone. Then, of course, there is the whole drifting business—”

“You realized you wouldn’t have done that for just anyone too, huh?” Newt says with a smile. Hermann’s hand on his hip stills, and his cheeks go pink. Newt’s relieved to have gotten some ground back here. “Hermann, that’s sooo romantic.”

“The world was at stake,” Hermann sniffs.

“It’s okay,” Newt says. “I won’t tell anyone the great Dr. Gottlieb has feelings. So, what, you realized you have a big ole crush on me?”

Hermann takes the unfinished piece of toast from him and sets it down on his plate. He pulls Newt’s glasses off, kisses him soundly, and then puts Newt’s glasses back on. His mouth tastes like toothpaste. “On the contrary, I’ve always suspected it,” he says. “It’s just that now I have the time to confirm it.” He reaches up and strokes at Newt’s hair. “We have the time for lots of things, now, Newton. Whatever we’d like.”

Newt finishes off his coffee quickly, not even caring when he burns his tongue, and then tosses the remainder of his breakfast to the floor. His egg spills onto the massacred skinny corduroys he wore yesterday. Whatever, Newt’s burning them anyway. “God, get overhere already, man,” he says, tugging at Hermann’s borrowed sweatshirt. He needs to help Hermann confirm his crush or whatever, pronto.

It’s a few days before Newt and Hermann finally drag themselves out of bed and to the lab to tackle what little work remains for them to do—cataloguing what are apparently the last kaiju samples known to man (Newt), recording and backing up their drift data (Newt’s solo drift, and then their joint data), drawing some random scribbles on the board and pretending they’re important calculations about the possibility of the Breach reopening (Hermann. Okay, whatever, maybe they are important). Unfortunately, the delay isn’t for any sexy reasons, as much as Newt would’ve liked it to have been. The events of the last day of the war caught up with them pretty quickly after that morning in Newt’s bed, and they mostly just slept, ordered out dinner, popped ibuprofen for their various aches, and avoided medical at all costs. (Rumor had it the medical staff on base were looking for him and Hermann so they could do some brain scans. Apparently drifting with a kaiju brain is potentially dangerous, who knew.)

A rancid smell washes over them the second they push the heavy lab doors open, and Newt spots several hunks of kaiju organs rotting away on his workbench. Hermann clamps a hand to his mouth. “Oops,” Newt says, turning to Hermann sheepishly. He can’t help but cower as he does. He and Hermann got along swimmingly the past couple days—it’ll be sad to see all that hard work go down the drain over this. “Guess I forgot to clean up the other day. In my defense—we were kind of busy.”

But Hermann doesn’t snap at Newt, or thump his cane on the ground, or call Newt an idiot, or even look annoyed; he lowers his hand from his mouth and laughs. Albeit a terse laugh, but still. Newt gapes at him. “We were rather busy,” Hermann concedes. “So long as you clean it up in the next ten minutes, I—what, Newton?”

“Nothing,” Newt says, quickly. “I’m gonna—um—deal with it now.”

Hermann disappears from the lab while Newt is digging around in the storage closet for extra heavy-duty trash bags. When he comes back an hour later, he’s holding a cardboard tray of small plastic cups, and Newt has just hefted his last spoiled sample into the lab’s airtight biohazard bin (a bit mournfully, if he’s being honest, since he’s sure there’s still more to learn about the kaiju from them). Newt squints at the cups in the tray while he rips his messy disposable work gloves off. “What’s that?” he says.

“Iced coffee,” Hermann declares.

The gloves slap, wetly, into the biohazard bin, and Newt lets out a low whistle. “Dude. No way. From where?” He’s not sure when he gave off the impression that the way to his heart was good coffee, but maybe it’s true. Then again, Hermann could probably win him over with a cup of lukewarm tap water. Not because Newt is desperate or anything. He just really likes Hermann.

“A little shop a bit away from the base,” Hermann says. “I took the bus.” He draws back his chair and sits down with a soft sigh, setting his cane against his desk. Then he draws out a small brown paper bag from his parka pocket. He tosses it to Newt; Newt catches it with one hand. “They had these funny little cakes on sticks. I thought you might like one.”

“Cake pops?” Newt says.

“I presume,” Hermann says. While Newt inhales the little chocolate-dipped cake pop (which is so good, oh my God, Newt hasn’t had dessert that didn’t come from a vending machine in plastic shrink wrap in years), Hermann adds, “I wasn’t sure what sort of iced coffee you liked, so I made sure to get a variety.”

“Sick,” Newt says, spewing crumbs on his shirt. “Um. But, like, why though?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hermann says. “I suppose I wanted to do something kind for you.” He carefully slides a straw out of its paper wrappings and pokes it into the lid of one of the coffees. Once he crumples up the wrapper and tosses It into his train bin, he grips his cane, and uses the handle to nudge Newt’s desk chair towards him. “You worked awfully hard cleaning the laboratory.”

Newt preens a little, even as he privately wonders why Hermann’s acting so weird. Well, nice. But nice is weird for Hermann, so they’re basically the same thing. Is this part of his whole deciding whether or not he digs Newt thing? Newt just assumed the awesome morning they spent together would be proof enough of that. Then again, Hermann’s pretty thorough. “I guess,” Newt says. “It was kind of my mess, though.”

Hermann pats at the empty chair with a smile. Hermann’s smiles are so rare—crooked, and stupid cute—that Newt’s heart gives a painful little twist at the sight of it, and he realizes he doesn’t actually give a shit about why Hermann’s being all weird, actually. “You’ve earned a break,” Hermann says. “Besides, I’d like to spend time with you.”

Newt’s too stunned to argue with that one. When he sits down, Hermann inches their chairs together until their knees are touching.

They don’t necessarily fall back into their usual habits by the next week, but the better ones they’ve picked up (being a little kinder to each other, a little more patient, a little more respectful, and also the fact that Hermann can’t seem to stop touching Newt) all but fall into the background as Newt throws himself into his work with renewed determination. Unfortunately, his desire to get it all done as soon as fucking possible speaks less to his awesome work ethic, and more to the fact that he’s just not sure what else to do with himself now, and he likes that work gives him the excuse to not think about it. Hermann said they have all the time to do whatever they like now. Well, Newt likes working. He knows working. Relaxation is a foreign concept to him, and it was a foreign concept to Hermann up until recently. While Newt is toiling away over his decaying kaiju samples in the lab, Hermann is out—

“Where?” Newt says.

Hermann gives Newt the most serene smile Newt’s ever seen cross his face. “I took a bath,” he says. “It was very nice. I bought some nice soaps, and lit some candles, and looked online to see how to do one of those mud masks. It was very relaxing. You ought to try it.”

“Try bathing?” Newt says.

“Yes. Well, no. I mean taking a bath. Is there something you’re not understanding?”

Newt tries to imagine Hermann with a mud mask on his face and cucumbers over his eyes and fails miserably. Hermann hates messes. He would never stand for mud, let alone on his skin. Where’d he even find a bathtub? Did he break into the rangers’ locker room again? Aren't candles banned on base for being a fire hazard, anyway? “Yeah,” Newt says. “Pretty much all of it.”

Hermann shakes his head with a snort, and Newt catches a whiff of something floral and fragrant—his fancy new soap or oil, he guesses. “I’m not surprised. You know, Newton, you are awfully tense.”

Hearing that from Hermann of all people, the king of having-a-massive-stick-up-your-ass, is probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened to Newt. He laughs out loud and plunges a bare hand into his kaiju sample with a gross squelching noise. “Sure, dude.”

He’s almost too engrossed in his sample to feel Hermann sidling up behind him and setting a hand at his waist. He definitely feels Hermann nose a kiss behind his ear, though, and the hot flush that spreads down across his neck from it. Newt’s hand goes sweaty around his scalpel. One thing he definitely wasn’t expecting from a post-no-apocalypse Hermann is how free he is with affection in any and all forms. “Give it a rest, love,” Hermann murmurs. He nudges at the heel of Newt’s boot with the end of his cane. Love? “Why don’t we head back to my quarters and watch a film? You can pick.”

“But.” Newt fidgets. “I have—my sample—”

Another little kiss. The soapy-oil smell is stronger now. Newt thinks it might be lavender. He wonders if the mud mask left Hermann’s skin all soft. “It won’t be going anywhere, Newton.”

Newt sets down his scalpel.

When they they pass by a group of LOCCENT staff in the hallway, Newt makes to drop Hermann’s hand (which Hermann had laced together with his own before they left the lab), but Hermann holds fast, maybe even faster than before, and looks at him with his stupidly sweet set of big eyes. Newt waits until they round the corner to say anything. “Sorry,” he says, lamely. “Um. I thought—you wouldn’t want—” Hermann continues to stare at him. His iris is still ringed red like Newt’s. “I just mean I know you’re weird about stuff like that. Public stuff.” Hermann has been a closed and tightly-bound book for as long as Newt’s known him; he can’t imagine that would suddenly change and he would start broadcasting his emotions far and wide in the course of a week just because he’s a little less stressed.

Or, you know. Maybe Newt’s totally wrong on this. “Ah,” Hermann says. He nods, very seriously. “Yes. I have been considering that as well. I see no reason to hide recent developments in our relationship.” He squeezes Newt’s hand. "In fact, I see no reason to not be quite, er, proud of them. You’re quite the catch.”

Newt remembers the stolen sweatshirt. Maybe Hermann wearing it out to get them breakfast was more calculated than he realized. “So if I made out with you against the wall right now you wouldn’t be mad?” Newt says.

“Well,” Hermann says, inclining his head to his door, "seeing as my quarters are right there, it seems a rather unnecessary inconvenience.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Newt smiles as Hermann leads him in. “Can I really pick the movie?”

“Within reason.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #esperata

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: iii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 4

word count: 4.2k

a cheeky drink and some mutual sabotage.

warnings: oh no, they say s*x, fluff, pining, the usual, and a wittle angst on the side, reader smokes cigs bc its a salem trademarked fic thing

enjoy folks ;^) the whole of this piece is gonna be about? ten chapters. so. hold on tight!!!

beta read by @keiqos, heart EYES

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“Let that sit for a second or you’ll burn yourself—”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, angel. I know the drill.” Hawks replied with a wink.

You weren’t ever going to get tired of that.

You really expected Hawks to disappear out of your life. You really, truly expected him to run off for good. How many bigger, better, and more important things did he have to do? Even if you managed to speak to him and regard him like any other customer (or, perhaps acquaintance, and more recently, friend — ), your mind swam with insecurities that only seemed to get worse over time.

You were waiting for the metaphorical thread to snap.

You waited for the day Hawks simply would stop texting you flirty bullshit on a somewhat regular basis.

But, holy fuck, the dude didn’t.

You couldn’t think of why. You weren’t complaining about the attention, but you also were terrified of getting too used to it. Hawks was a part... bird (?) right? He was flighty by nature.

Despite this, Hawks continued to not only text you but also stopped by the shop fairly frequently for his special, quirk-fueled beverage fix. Politely, he’d text you the day before he planned to make an appearance to check and see if you were working, and then show up the next day like it was nothing.

He usually wouldn’t stay for long; the hero was ungodly busy and always on the move. But, he always took the time to flirt and get a full description of his drink before dashing out to save the world once more.

Most days he visited were his ‘hero work’ days. He’d appear in his costume, done up and dashing for a sip and a quick talk before disappearing once more into the skies. Every once in a while, Hawks had an ‘office’ day where he’d be confined to his agency to catch up on his insane backlog of paperwork. On these occasions, Hawks would talk (stall) at the tea shop for as long as possible. You talked and joked with him as long as he would let you. Sure, it put you behind on work, but no one at the shop was going to tell you off for fraternizing with the number two hero (whose repeated presence was drawing more customers anyways). You both reveled in each other's attention, drinking in the other’s slowly softening smiles and quick wit.

On this day, Keigo’s wings were the shittiest they had been in a while. Plucked and almost barren with how much he’d been working lately. Total exhaustion seemed like it was constantly on the horizon, tugging as his eyelids and weighing down his chest each morning.

It was easier to get out of bed when he got to think about seeing you.

Sure, your drinks were a perk. Very much so. He was getting so used to the artisan beverages you crafted that the taste of his normal canned coffee was starting to bother him.

But, what his real thrill in visiting the tea shop was that he got to see you, and that made his heart pound.

He sat across from you, looking down into your newest drink. It swirled between dark and milky, a heady, rich aroma billowing up with the steam it produced. He had requested something ‘surprising, new, and horribly caffeinated’ as deep fatigue was the worst villain he’d likely see that day. You had just nodded, cheekily starting to prepare his drink with a bounce in your step, pupils going wide.

“I feel like you’re gonna start running out of ideas one of these days,” Keigo laughed, adjusting himself on his stool, gloves and jacket removed. He almost looked like a normal patron.

You grinned to yourself, idly cleaning around you as you often did, “I dunno, I’ve got a lot.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, “Tell me about them.”

“Nope, top-secret,” You shook your head, digging into your apron to flash him the small notepad you carried on you.

Scrawled in nasty handwriting, you carried your many ‘feeling’ ideas around with you. Different concepts and abstractions all scribbled down, a nice long list to look back on whenever Hawks would make his appearances and his own vague requests. Your backlog of ideas made it easy to find something more than suitable to make for him.

When Hawks saw your notepad his eyes widened, tilting his head and a devious smirk coming to his lips.

Your expression fell, and you stuffed the papers back into your pocket, hiding your hot face by idly cleaning some more.

You left yourself very open for teasing, it seemed.

(Not that you or Keigo minded.)

“You keep a little list of all of your ideas! I’m beyond flattered,” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, flashing a cocky smile for you.

“I have to stay prepared, can’t be disappointing my celebrity sugar daddy,” You winked as Hawks’s eyes went wide, half-hearing a choke get caught in his throat. (You loved it when you were able to get him visibly flustered. What a treat.) You nodded down to the drink, “Should be good to try now.”

Keigo really liked spending time with you. He knew it was always fleeting and short and consistently he wanted to find reasons to stay with you at the tea shop counter for longer and longer. Your quips and chides continued to get quicker and more clever and he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his cool around you. Most of the time he smoothed himself easily, not showing a trace other than that which he neurologically couldn’t control.

But sometimes, you were bold enough and ballsy enough to get him to gag on his literal words and he was positive that you were the only person to ever have him break composure in such a way.

He covered his weakened poise by sipping the new drink, mindfully letting the taste wash over his tongue.

Increasingly, you’d been changing up the so-called ‘vibe’ of your beverages. It seemed like each time Keigo dropped in, you had something new and vibrant to show him.

This drink was particularly different.

The taste was rich, dark, and smooth, rolling into the back of his throat and down his spine. It coated his insides with a warm, low heat. Peeking through were sweet, light accents, warm but almost... teasing?

His dick twitched.

Hawks’s mouth dropped open, any and all professional veneers dropped as you just beamed so fucking smugly at him.

“What do you think?” You leaned a bit forward, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Is... Is this supposed to taste like sex?” Hawks asked, taking another mouthful to confirm. Based on the way his eyes briefly shut and some of the tension rolled from his shoulders, he thoroughly confirmed it.

“Technically, it’s crafted based on like... a late-night rendezvous. I left it fairly up to interpretation beyond that. The rest is on you.” You shrugged, still bouncing as Hawks took another chug.

“What the fuck, (Y/N),” Pleasant shock colored his features, but clear amusement stretched across his lips as he continued to drink.

“You wanted something surprising and horribly caffeinated. That’s a dark chocolate mocha with two extra shots, our in-house raspberry and rhubarb syrup, a bit of white chocolate syrup, and a few of my add-ins as well. It’s pretty different from what I’ve made you before,” You blinked at him, stomach twisting as his expression remained unguarded. “I... I probably should’ve asked before giving you a drink that definitely could’ve been taken as sex. That’s my bad. I can remake you something else if you’d like?”

Keigo shook himself from his stupor, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure. He took another sip to emphasize his words, “No, nope. It’s okay. Definitely okay. The drink is really good. I’m just now wondering something.”

“And, what’s that?” You asked, reaching behind the counter to grab your own iced beverage.

“Can your quirk be used to manifest bad feelings and concepts, just like good ones?” Keigo asked. Normally, he’d add more nuance, but he was getting impatient and sloppy around you. He’d have to keep that in check.

Especially with the way your shoulders drew up and tensed. You turned a bit away from him, any and all potential for eye contact torn away.

He hit a nerve.

“The type of abstract feeling doesn’t matter, I can emulate it,” You replied, pulling at your nails. Keigo had long picked up that it was one of your habits when your anxiety spiked.

He dropped it, but didn’t forget. There were public files on quirks. Maybe he’d look into it. Maybe. It felt a bit invasive, but considering plenty of that data was freely accessible, it hardly was an invasion of privacy, right?

(Except for the fact that it obviously made you very uncomfortable to discuss the more unsavory potentials of your quirk.)

(He just wouldn’t tell you.)

Keigo switched topics, easily rolling away from the topic, “Any particular... event that inspired this one?”

You pressed your hands into the counter, leaning over it to glare at him, “Are you referring to something with that comment, Hawks?”

He shuddered when you said his name, but you don’t notice.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Keigo shrugged easily, going for another sip.

The drink was inspired by the several day cinematic, wine-bender you went on a week or two prior. An entire weekend with just you, your cats, three entire bottles of wine, and a backlog of movies to catch up on. You tried to consume lots of different types of media, but what had been catching your eye lately had been anything with gushy romance for fairly obvious reasons.

(There was an embarrassing amount of ideas for drinks that were a bit too romantic to properly indulge with your quirk. You’d never tested the limits of how certain feelings could manifest, and you weren’t quite ready to face the reality where you could make people nut from caffeinated milk.)

“It is good though, the drink,” Hawks smacked his lips together as if it would make his coming analysis more credible. “It definitely does taste like sex, but more so complicated. Darker.”

“Deeper.” You smiled. “Your palette is getting more refined. I’m proud.”

“Are you saying it was bad to begin with?” Hawks pouted, flashing you falsely weepy eyes and a puffed out lip.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, you yourself have admitted this. You drink canned coffee still, so I can’t even call your taste good.”

Hawks gasped, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, truly wounded.”

“I’m sure you are, tailfeathers.”

“I really thought I had reliably moved up to ‘birdboy’, angel.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, “Just goes to show how quickly the tables turn, tailfeathers.”

Hawks’s pager suddenly chimed, a familiar sign. He took a quick look at it and sighed, moving to re-robe. You were surprised by the speed at which he did so, and the way he became tense so quickly.

It made you realize that he was always tense.

(Unless he was talking to you.)

“I thought today was an office day?” You asked, a bit of a disappointment clouding your voice.

Hawks just gave a small smile, fully plastering back on his heroic facade, “Duty calls. Lots happening lately.”

He flicked his visor back over his eyes, slid you your normalized wad of cash, and whisked himself out the door, immediately taking to the skies from the streets.

He’s in a bit of a hurry.

He... didn’t even say goodbye.

Wonder what’s happening?

Truthfully, Keigo was a bit startled by the notice on his pager. The whole reason he’d started patrolling the particular neighborhood the tea shop was in was because there was word of a villain syndicate working nearby. It hardly seemed right for the neighborhood, but Keigo knew that villains hid anywhere. Whatever they were planning was still relatively shrouded, but it was clear that it needed to be treated delicately. That particular neighborhood was rife with pedestrians, businesses, and homes and any sort of villainous activity had the possibility of reaping a heavy amount of collateral damage. Keigo and the Commission had been on their guards about it, but things had been steadily becoming more intense over the past few weeks.

Plopping himself on a rooftop, Keigo took up residence to stake out his newest lead, watching figures and silhouettes in a nearby office building.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Funnily enough, the rest of your week went horribly. Just downright shitty. You figured at some point, things would let up, brighten, but they didn’t. Each day brought some new, personal calamity.

The first was a trip to the emergency vet with one of your cats after she swallowed a hair tie. An expensive vet bill later, she was perfectly healthy, but you remained wracked with anxiety.

Another day, the owner of the tea shop paid a visit to chew you out for your newest tea blends not fulfilling his picky seasonal requests. You were relieved it had nothing to do with how Hawks monopolized your time. Still, getting yelled at easily within earshot of both coworkers and customers made your insides twists.

The final small disaster was when a particularly asshole-ish customer chucked a hot drink all over you and your cute white sweater. One of the younger openers had been dealing with a difficult patron and an incorrect order, nothing out of the ordinary. When you tried to step in and de-escalate the situation, the man ripped the lid from his cup and splashed you with the burning liquid. You held back any sounds of pain even as your skin stung like hell when you offered to remake his drink.

One of your managers luckily allowed you to go home early. Thank god.

By the end of your shitty week, you fell into your apartment and just cried. White sweater stained and day feeling fairly ruined, you let yourself have a good, solid sobbing session to just release how terrible things had been.

It would pass, you knew. But it sucked at the moment.

It also didn’t help that Hawks had been particularly absent after running out the last time he came around. He’d still managed to shoot you a funny text or two, but mostly, it was silence from him. You rationalized it by reminding yourself of how quickly he flew off at the end of his last visit, hero business forever more pertinent than you and the shop.

You reminded yourself to keep yourself grounded in Hawks obvious impermanence, even if you were starting to get used to (and really like) having the hero around.

You decided that your Friday evening would be good. You treated yourself to a hot shower, noting with a hiss the pink scalded skin that covered your chest from your collar bones to just below your breasts. You threw on a facemask and uncorked a bottle of wine you had been saving for a rainy day.

You clicked on one of your favorite shows, an older cartoon that brought you consistent comfort in times like those. Curled up with a knit throw blanket and your healthy cats, it did help soothe the burns, mental and physical.

That is until you got a bit too drunk on red wine and it turned into sad drunk.

So, you made your way to the roof.

You weren’t fucked up beyond belief, despite the fact that you were towing an open bottle of red in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the left. The cold would sober you up, along with the nicotine. You hoped it would force you out of your head.

Upon throwing open the door to your apartment complex’s rooftop, you were made very aware of its wintertime disuse. The gardens that grew during the summer were snowcovered. The chairs and tables for lounging were in a similar state. You didn’t mind.

The view was still nice.

You set down your bottle and zipped up your coat. Quickly, you brushed off the flurries from a rickety lawn chair and plopped yourself down. You threw on some music from your phone, playing some sweet, old songs that made your chest ache when you needed it to.

The city stretched in front of you, beyond the rooftop. You didn’t live in a particularly wealthy district, but there was no shortage of dazzling neon and bright street lights dotting the ground below. You watched how the rest of the city stretched far beyond your little pocket, still gleaming with multi-hued lighting and dazzling in the wash of the crescent moon.

You took a swig, fishing for your self-dubbed ‘sad cigarettes’ and lit up. With your exhale, you watched as smoke lazily swirled away, carried by the soft winter wind. If you were any less drunk, you’d be freezing.

A shadow, winged, fell across the snow.

“You know, I get nervous when I see pretty girls on rooftops with bottles in their hands,” You jumped at the voice, whipping your head to the source.

Hawks stood, scarlet wings fanned outwards, on the lip of the rooftop.

Your eyes widened.

You took another sip.

He gave an affectionate laugh, jumping down into the area where you were seated.

Keigo had just been out on his normal, nightly patrol. The leak had been correct and he’d been stealthily tracking the villains while completing the rest of his hero duties. He was able to laugh off his exhaustion, but it was starting to eat him. Several cans of coffee a day was hardly doing it for him. He hid his sleepiness and aches well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. All the same, his typical roles had to be fulfilled.

He was surprised to see you, all alone on a rooftop with a lit cigarette between your fingers. Keigo let himself be surprised before noting that ‘ yes, you definitely probably live in this apartment building and you’re just outside to smoke’, but the sudden jolt of panic he felt was crushingly unbearable.

Mostly because it was personally protective and not heroically instinctual and he couldn’t start acknowledging that aspect of his feelings for you. Not yet.

Keigo walked towards you, asking, watching you blink blearily at him “You doing alright?”

Eyes downcast, you shrugged, “We all feel shitty sometimes. Just depends on how you cope, ‘ya know?”

“And how do you cope, (Y/N)?” Keigo asked, pausing before brushing off a chair. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use a second to rest my wings.”

You nodded, almost offering him the bottle, but quickly pulling it back to your chest before taking another inhale. Offering a pro hero alcohol while he was pretty obviously working seemed like a bad move, even in your tipsy state.

“Most of the time, I watch nice stuff and distract myself, like most people, ya’ know?” You exhaled as you smoked, relishing the nicotine buzz. “Sometimes, though, I just feel extra shitty and need to extra cope.”

Hawks hummed in agreement, sitting back in the chair. His wings were folded up and over its back, the longest feathers trailing in the small snowdrift behind him.

“Do you get cold, being in the sky all the time?” You asked, eyes going cloudy as you stared up at the lights of the city and higher into the sky.

“Most of the time,” Hawks chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head, “I’ve told you this, angel. It was one of our first conversations.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, mouth open with a hearty laugh.

It made Keigo’s eyes water a little. He blamed it on the wind.

“I’m silly, I can’t believe I forgot,” You nestled back into your chair, tracing the lines between constellations. “It’s the whole reason you came to the teashop in the first place.”

Your voice resonated, focus foggy. Somewhere else, old memories played in your mind, recounting your first few meetings with Hawks.

A warm, small smile stretched across your face as you traced the stars.

Keigo watched, enraptured. You were cute, especially like this. All bundled up in your winter coat, half-zipped. There was a lot less stress in your shoulders than he normally saw at the shop, especially as your thoughts were so far away.

He wanted nothing more than to commit the contours and shadows of your face in the white moonlight to memory, never forgotten in the blissful cold.

You interrupted his thoughts so beautifully.

“Thanks for talking to me.” You took a sip from your bottle just after speaking, half-drowning your words, but Keigo caught each one. “I appreciate you.”

“P-pardon?” Keigo couldn’t tell if you caught his stutter, but even if you did, you didn’t show it. The comment felt like a jab to his jaw, half-knocking the wind of him and turning him into a filthy masochist. He’d take any whiplash if it meant you saying such kindnesses to him.

How could you just say shit like that?

What exactly did you mean by that?

Why did your attention make his legs tremble?

You turned your attention from the night sky to Hawks, something like uncertainty bubbling in your chest, “I appreciate you, ya’ know? Coming by the tea shop still, teasing each other and shit, you humoring me—”

Hawks interrupted you, feathers tensing at his back.

“I’m not humoring you.” Hawks deadpanned, staring at you oddly seriously. The yolks of his eyes seemed even more intense in the neon and night light.

“You’re... not?”

There was utter disbelief in your voice, accented by the way your jaw was half-opened.

Hawks shook his head, standing in emphasis, feathers fluttering as he did, “ No, angel. Not at all. I visit because...”

I like you.

“Because I like your drinks.”

Because you make me feel good in a way I’ve never felt.

“You’re fun to talk to, too. Added perk.”

Because I want to hear your voice when I breathe and when I die.

“I enjoy it, you know? You're fun.”

Some feeling in your chest, something full of hope, crushed itself and compacted to the point of pain. You sniffled at his admission, blaming it on the cold. In a fucked up, sad way, part of you was so relieved.

He likes the shop. He likes your drinks.

He’s around because he wants to be.

But not because you’re special to him.

His words reminded you of your insignificance in Hawks’s life. No matter how much you craved his attention and words, and more recently found yourself staring at the plumpness of his lips and the curve of his cupids bow and daydreaming about how much you wanted to lean over the tea shop's counter and kiss the constant, teasing smile off his face—

But.

You don’t matter that much to him.

Sure, he likes you, but he’ll never feel the same way about you.

You made the decision then to make the most out of Hawk’s affections and sweet words. You’d take what you could get, even if it was fleeting and probably eventually heartbreaking. It seemed smart, to refuse to get your hopes up for someone so unattainable.

You let out a shaking sigh, “Thank you, Hawks. I appreciate you coming around. You really light up my day.”

Keigo saw the fall of your face and bottled himself up. Shoved down everything. Fuck his feeling, fuck how he felt about you, this was all fucking terrifying. It was getting to be too much and he had to try and control himself.

Just like he’d been taught so well.

He was just so happy to be around you. He could squash his feelings, even if they were fairly obviously somewhat mutual. God knows that he didn’t know how to handle anything like that.

On the gods, his pager beeped.

“Duty calls?” You said, standing up yourself and brushing off the stray snowflakes.

“Seems so.” Hawks sighed, nodding, “Thanks for letting me rest here. It was good to see you, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You waved goodbye as Hawks disappeared as quickly as he came, launching himself from the roof with the heavy sound of wing beats.

Soaring away, Keigo risked a final look at you. He swore he saw tears in your eyes.

He forcibly repressed his feelings, reminding himself that your company, words, and quirk-made beverages were more than enough. The flutter in his chest when he thought of you wouldn’t rest, but he could learn to ignore it.

On the roof of your apartment, you felt fatigue in your bones and wetness on your cheeks. You ignored both in favor of smoking another cigarette, soft, melancholy music being your only constant, reliable companion.

You reminded yourself that he, Hawks, was a temporary fixture, more flighty than most and liked you just enough and for surface-level reasons. You could take that. You’d do anything to be around him more, even if it never amounted to anything.

You, just as Keigo did, pressed down any larger feelings.

(The thing about feelings, though, that neither of you was very good at remembering, was that they don’t go away. Sure, you can let them go, but that takes time or a practiced mind!)

(When you take feelings, big, aching, soaking feelings and shove them down into the deepest parts of you, they just tend to make you bleed. The ‘hidden’ feelings color your blood as it spills, even if you don’t notice when it falls and its change in hue.)

(One can only hope that both Keigo and you listened instead of lied.)

Both of your hearts ached, and neither of you fully understood why.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #reader insert #mha x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #takami keigo x y/n #lavender latte #bnha x reader

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imaginedxlan · 3 years

Text

Drivers License Pt. 2 (Ron Weasley)

a/n: You guys absolutely went off for part 1, thank you so so much!! Someone requested that I make a part 2 where y/n finally gets a happy ending, but without ron so I decided to kind of run with the idea, this time sort of from ron’s point of view.

disclaimer: the timeline in the books/movie are gonna line up in this one. I know they didn’t have a seventh year and i know ron kissed lavender before winter but this is obv not cannon, go with it, also fred dying was a prank anyway so YOU THOUGHT it would be included. absolutely not.

After taking y/n’s affection for granted, Ron realizes he’s made a huge mistake when she’s moved on to be happy without him

warning(s): cussing, sadness, broke my own heart writing this

Pay attention to the gif, keep it in your mind towards the end.

Part 1

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And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you, but I kinda feel sorry for them 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

It took a long time for you to move on from Ron, you didn’t have to look very far to do so. Ginny had told off Ron one night for hurting you without realizing the twins were awake and hearing all the nasty things Ron put you through. By that point he and Hermione were no longer together, she realized he was too good of a friend to lose to a ‘stupid school relationship.’ So now he was alone, completely clueless to the fact that someone else had begun pining over you.

“Merlin, not this again.” Harry groans into his textbook. The wizarding world was on the verge of destruction and all Ron could speak about was how much he missed you. “Ron, we get it you fucked up with her, get over it.”

The boys had heard the same speech everyday. He would first start off with ‘I know I say this a lot’ then go onto name the things he misses most about you. Your hair, your eyes, your laugh, how small your hands are compared to his. He then groans about how stupid he is for, well, everything.

“I never heard you talk about her before now,” Dean adds, actually semi-invested in the drama that surrounded Ron’s love life. “Whats so special about her anyway?”

How could he even begin to explain what was so special about you. As much as he wished he could say he lied to you about everything he said to you, how easy it would be if he never gave a shit about you, that just isn’t the case. You had this way of making him feel safe whenever he held you. He wasn’t lying when he told you that you felt like home, he just didn’t mean to say it to soon. Maybe that was the reason he decided to kiss Lavender Brown, knowing you were watching. He wanted to push you away in the most hurtful way possible that you never even thought about coming back to him, but immediately regretted that decision.

You also had this weird hold on him, even when he was with Hermione, he would catch a glimpse of your smile and his heart would drop into his stomach. He would see your eyes sparkle in the light of the living room fire place when you were visiting the Burrow and want to scream out that he never meant to hurt you. He notices things about you that you probably hadn’t even noticed about yourself. The way your nose will scrunch when you focus really hard when Ginny tries to teach you wizard chess, how he wishes you would let him close enough to teach you. His heart aches when he notices you shift away from him, even after he and Hermione broke up. When you and Gin walk into the Great Hall for dinner and you go out of your way to sit as far from his as you can.

“You don’t understand,” Ron huffs out, rolling onto his side, wishing you were laying close into his chest like you used to. “She’s something else.”

“Ron, I know you miss her and everything but I have to tell you that you missed your chance,” Harry tells him. “Ginny tells me more than she probably should about all of this, she’s finally moved on from you mate, let it go.”

But how could he? How could he move on when you’re constantly around? He can hear a laugh from all the way down the hall and immediately know its falling from your lips, he’ll hear the sound of an engine from his bedroom window and know you’ve arrived for one of your weekend stays. The way you get on so well with his family, you’re perfect for him, you always have been but he took you for granted and now all he can do is complain to his friends about how he let you go.

And I know we weren't perfect But I've never felt this way for no one, oh And I just can't imagine How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

He thought for a long time that you were a temporary fix for his feelings that ran deep within him for Hermione, but being with her only made him realize that it was you all along. How could he have been so stupid? He refused to let his friends know you were together, in fear that Hermione would lose the feelings he had prayed she felt toward him, but in doing so he only pushed you away.

“Ron, we can’t keep sneaking around like this.” You would tell him after he pulled you into a broom closet in the middle of the day. “They’ll find out eventually, it’s not like Ginny would be cross with either of us.”

Ron was never able to give you a clear answer when it came to why you had to hide from everyone, not wanting to admit to you that it was because he was hung up on his best friend. Looking back now, it was the stupidest decision he ever made. While your relationship was chaotic and spontaneous and secretive, it was still something he now yearned for everyday, he needed to feel what he felt for you then. More specifically, he needed you to feel what you felt for him back then too. Admittedly, he never loved Lavender Brown, she was only there to stroke his ego. He thought he loved Hermione, but how can you fully love someone if your heart is connected to someone else? Loving you felt different than with anyone else, his chest burned and his hands tingled whenever you were around him.

That’s why it hurt him so badly to see you move on, and not to just anyone. After Ginny’s outburst toward her brother over how he continued to treat her best friend, a certain Weasley grew closer to you. At first, George wanted to apologize to you for the way his brother treated you as well as help you navigate co-existing with the boy. However, the more time you spent with George, the closer you became. You found yourself laughing at his stupid pranks that wouldn’t have even warranted a grin years ago. You felt the need to be near him grow more everyday, Ron noticed your sudden draw toward his brother as well.

He couldn’t understand how after, according to Ginny, crying over him for days on end, barely being able to get into your car to drive to the Burrow in fear of seeing him you could all of a sudden move on to his brother. Now that he realized how bad he messed up, he’s miserable that you weren’t around him, that you didn’t love him like you used to. How could you not feel the same hollow feeling he did?

What Ron didn’t see was that you did feel that hollow feeling, for months actually. You watched him fall in love and out of it twice before he realized you were the one, but by that time you didn’t have anything left to give him. You were healing in a way that caused you to grow apart from him even further. You found happiness is sleepovers with Ginny, helping Molly in the kitchen, and now long drives with George. You no longer felt like you needed Ron to survive. You didn’t eat, sleep, and breathe him anymore and that killed him.

You were careful to never make Ron feel the same way you did when you saw him with Lavender and Hermione, you weren’t as cruel as he was back then, but it was no secret that you and the twin had sparked some sort of relationship. Ginny was over the moon, as she began to lose hope in having you as a real sister by being with Ron, George came in and saved the day. If you thought Ron was mature for his age, George was practically ten times more. The more responsible of the twins, he always seemed to know exactly what to do and say in every situation. He always gave the best advice. What to do when a professor wouldn’t let up, how to sneak around the halls of Hogwarts at night, and most commonly how to continue in your growth while the one person who seems to stunt it is living only a stones-throw away. While you were still in school and he was running the shop, he would send you letters updating you on his life and beg you to come work at the shop with him and Fred when you finish school, telling you that you would make an excellent addition to the team. His words never failed to make you blush.

He’s three years older than you, almost twenty by the time you had moved on completely from Ron, so nothing ever really happened with George then, but your growing companionship could only be expected to blossom from there. Ron couldn’t stand it. Of all people you could seek comfort in, it had to be his brother. He would hear you gushing to Ginny about the most recent letter you received in the Common Room or witness you and George chatting about something completely arbitrary over Christmas and seethe with anger. In his mind, if you had ever truly loved him like you say you did, you wouldn’t be so content knowing that you two would never be together.

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

It was no longer a secret to any of the Weasley clan that Ron was miserable. When he’s at school, he’s complaining to his friends about what he could have done differently so that he could have you. At home he begged his sister to stop bringing you around, as if he had any say in whether or not you visited the Burrow. Now being old enough to use magic outside of Hogwarts, he would apparate out any time he heard you pull up to his driveway. He would go to London mostly, distracting himself in the busy streets and crowds of people.

It never worked. Somehow everywhere he turned he thought he would catch a glimpse of your hair blowing in the wind. He would shake his head just to realize you were never there. Any white car that passed next to him would immediately strike fear in his heart, thinking you were behind the wheel, but you never were. He couldn’t decide if he was looking for you in everything or if he was so afraid to see you that he imagined you everywhere. Nevertheless, there was nothing Ron Weasley could do that would effectively distract himself from you, and he’s now starting to realize it’s all his fault.

If he hadn’t been so self centered to fall into Lavender Brown’s compliments and praises due to his egomania, he would have never kissed her in front of you. At the time he thought of it as kind of a test, how far could he push you before you were no longer kissing the ground he walked on. Seeing you still tremble at his touch or your cheeks heat up whenever he said your name made him feel good, like you would never leave him. Now that you’re gone, he’s kicking himself for pushing that limit. He didn’t know it would take him falling into Hermione’s arms in that hospital bed in front of you to ruin your good opinion of him forever, but if he did he swears he would have called out your name that day instead.

On top of the Dark Lord plotting to take over the wizarding world as he knew it, his last semester was filled with memories of you. Any time he would walk into the common room his heart would fill with sorrow, recalling how it felt to first kiss you there. He would also replay the moment he kissed Lavender Brown in that very spot, after pulling away catching a glimpse of you rushing through the crowd of Gryffindors to get away from him. In that moment he felt like the world’s biggest arse, yet it didn’t keep him from holding onto Lavender a bit longer. He avoided certain hallways that would force him to pass the broom closets and empty classrooms he pulled you into throughout the school day, hiding you from his friends. What a stupid thing to do. Part of him knew back then that he would never feel the way he felt about you for anyone else, but he was greedy.

Seeing you happy without him ripped his heart out of his chest and tore it to shreds. How you would smile down at a piece of parchment, assuming it was a letter from his brother. The sound of your voice carrying through the dorms as you and Ginny would stay up late in the common room talking about nothing and everything all at once. He couldn’t bear living right next to you, co-existing with you, while you just ignored him and grew apart from him.

“Y/n,” He calls your name. You’re alone in the common room, that is until he came in. You hadn’t heard him say your name in a while, you find it doesn’t have the same impact on you as it did a year ago and you’re grateful for that. “Y/n, can I talk to you?”

“What is it, Weasley?” You ask him, hoping the dismissal you intended in your tone translates. You had spent months avoiding him, avoiding the longing gazes, so that you could pick up the pieces of your heart that he shattered and put them back together. He doesn’t respond for a while, just admiring how you look in the glow of the fireplace. “I don’t have all night, get on with it.”

“Right,” He replies, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He takes a seat on the arm chair across from the couch that you’re sat on, careful not to get too close. Your face is cold, he almost doesn’t recognize you without your smile. “I messed up, Y/n. I know I did. I fucked it all just to have a quick fix because I’m arrogant and selfish. I was so lost back then, in my own pride, that I didn’t know what I wanted out of life. But I know now what I needed then, what I need now.”

You don’t reply. Your heart is sinking but you do a great job of hiding it. Your face doesn’t change even though your inside is screaming. After months of crying and misery, watching the first boy you had fallen in love with fawn over what felt like every girl in the school, you had finally stopped hurting. Your heart doesn’t ache when you see him anymore, you don’t blush when you hear his name and you stopped yearning for his touch. Yet now, he has the audacity to try and fix it. Months ago you would have welcomed this grand gesture of what you can only assume to be a confession of the love he never lost for you, but you’re not the person you were then, thanks to the boy sat in the armchair that forced you to grow up and move on from him so soon.

“Say something.”

“Say something?” You ask, gawking at his audacity and slamming your book next to you. “You dangle your little relationships in front of me for almost a fucking year, pretending like I never meant anything to you and you’d like me to say something? Do you understand what kind of pain you caused? I cried until I had nothing left because you told me all these nice things about me, you told me you loved me, then you kissed Lavender right in front of me. Not only that but I spent hours, Ron, hours sitting next to your bed in the hospital scared shitless that you were going to die in there. You know who came twenty minutes before you woke up, Granger. I was there for hours and who’s name you did you call out? Hers. Months ago I would have eaten this shit up, Weasley. You could have come in here and told me my hair looked different and I would have fallen in love with you all over again. Not anymore. I’m finally happy, you don’t get to ruin that because things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to with Hermione.”

He sits in front of you, shocked. Part of him expected you to always want him, to come back to him even after all this time but he was wrong. He looked at you, hoping that maybe you were lying, that you were just scared to get hurt again so you put on a face for him but the look in your eyes told him more than what just fell from your lips. You hate him.

“Y/n, please.” He whimpers as you start to collect your things to leave this room immediately. There are only two of you but you feel suffocated. “I love you.”

“Shut up.” You tell him, not in jest, not to tease him but genuinely wanting him to stop speaking. “Don’t you dare say that to me ever again. You don’t deserve to know what it’s like for me to love you, you never did.”

You leave him sitting alone in the common room, heart shattered from your words that dug into him like a thousand knives. He replayed it over and over again, to feel something other than the numbness that was sure to come in time when you love someone you cannot have. He still had to be around you, watch you live your life without him. He had to see you laugh and know he could never put a smile like that on your face ever again. In order to fully heal from the heartache he was facing he knew he had to separate himself from you, to leave for a while so he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his brother, but he couldn’t. He decided he would rather have you in the smallest way possible, watching you from afar, seeing you smile like you once did at him, then never see you again.

Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe

Years Later

Following your last year at Hogwarts, you followed George’s orders and began working at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. The twins were overjoyed to have your help, George especially so to have you around so often. With you 18 and he 21, after all these year he made his move on you, your friendship blossoming into something more.

You finally knew what it felt like to love and be loved back. George never tried to keep you from his friends, he never snuck off with you to hide your relationship, rather he paraded you around, proud that ‘someone like him was able to swing someone like you.’ He made you blush every time he looked at you, his handsome smile always pulling at your heartstrings. You had become addicted to being loved in that way.

Ron didn’t love your new relationship with his brother as much as as you did. He knew you deserved someone good, someone who would treat you right, he just wished it didn’t have to be someone who placed you in his life indefinitely. His heart ached whenever he would see George’s hand reach for yours as you giggled through the backyard of the Burrow. The worst was when he caught the two of you kiss for the first time.

It was late in the Summer, just after you and Ginny finished your years at Hogwarts. You were visiting just like you always did that time of year and late one night Ron heard rustling down from the main floor. Fearing that an animal had gotten in the house, he immediately searched for the origin of the noise. What he was met with was worse than if an acromantula had found its way into his kitchen. There you were, your hands tangled in his brother’s fiery red hair and his resting on your waist, your body pressed up to the sink. As he watched your lips against his brother’s, he felt as if a fire had engulfed his heart, his chest beginning to sting as it became harder to breathe. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t stop you two, just turned on his heels and darted back to his bedroom. When he was finally safe in his solitude, he slid against his door and broke down. The memories of the two of you in that very kitchen years ago flooded his sense.

During winter break of his sixth year and your fifth, the two of you spent your time cooking and cleaning together in that kitchen, laughing over the littlest things. Even when you weren’t right next to each other, he could still hear your laugh over all the commotion in the house. It was and still is his favorite sound. He wishes that he could bring that sound from your lips again, hoping that maybe one day you’ll realize your love for his brother is really misdirected love toward him, but that all changed.

You’re now 22 and George is 25. You have officially been together for four year. The shop had expanded immensely, renovations to the first store and new shops opening up all over the country and the continent. You count yourself lucky to be a part of it, to be able to say your boyfriend was the co-owner of the most successful joke shop in Europe. Being able to see how his eyes glow like it’s his first day of work every single day still makes your heart smile.

Tonight is another unveiling event of a new shop, this one in Spain. However, this new location being the 10th shop to open up in the continent, the boys decided this launch party would be more formal than the last, a bigger celebration. You all are dressed up, George in a tuxedo and you in a floor length gown. You loved seeing George in his everyday clothes, thinking he would look handsome in a potato sack, but there is something about that boy in a suit. All your friends and family are there, investors too. It’s a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Ginny is still your best friend, you can’t imagine a day when she isn’t. You still have sleepovers in the Burrow even though you had your own lives and own flats. She’s still with Harry, a ring now occupying her left finger. When he proposed you and Ginny immediately started planning the wedding, there was no question who the maid of honor would be. She practically begs her older brother to make an honest woman out of you every time she sees him because she wants to, like almost everything in your lives, go through this experience with you.

Ron is there, of course he is. One of the biggest milestones in his older brothers’ career paths so far, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He works at the shop sometimes, never with you, Fred and George would never be so cruel to ask him to do such a thing. He watched you for most of this night, his brother’s hand resting on your lower back every time he looked. While he knew your smile that you were putting on for investors and old friends was partly exaggerated so you could better play your role of proud girlfriend to the co-owner, he still admired how it sparkled like no one else’s he had ever seen. You grew more beautiful with every year you aged, this of course hurt him to still see you so happy without him.

You catch Ron’s stares throughout the night, you ignore them for the most part. You have come a long way, you were sixteen with you had your heart absolutely shattered by the boy and now you’re an adult. You have a job, a home, a life that at one point you could have never imagined living without him. The boy you were once completely and utterly bewitched by is now just a faint memory, a small ping in your chest when you think of how someone could hurt you so badly at such a young age. You catch his eye and smile at him, no longer angry with him. Like most things, George helped you process your anger. He couldn’t stand to see you so furious anytime you saw someone who mattered quite a bit to him. George has his moments when he hears something Ron did to you for the first time and becomes outraged, now that he loves you and everything, but he always reminds himself that its in the past.

Ron smiles back, you can tell he’s forcing it, but it’s a step in the right direction. Something tells him that he’ll never fully get over you, that part of his heart will always be in your possession. The only way he can describe his feelings whenever he’s around you anymore is blue, every shade of blue. Sometimes are better than other, a sky blue, a bit brighter but still a hint of sadness. Other times are a navy blue, complete and utter darkness. He hasn’t decided what tonight is blue-wise.

“Fred and I would like to thank you all for coming tonight.” George speaks into a microphone placed on an elevated surface in the new shop. You can’t help but admire his features, he looks so mature. “As you all know, courtesy of this bloody massive sign above our heads, this is our tenth shop to open across the continent. It feels surreal to say, eh Freddie?”

“You said it, George.” Fred replies. “Everyone in this room holds a special place in our heart, you’ve all, in your own ways, made this shop what it is today. We are so grateful to have such loyal and fantastic business partners, friends, and family.”

You want to cry, not a sad cry, but burst into tears over how far the two of them have come. When you first joined them in working at the shop, it was just a corner store on Diagon Alley, now it’s a world wide chain. You see the ins and outs of the business, knowing just how much work the two of them put into this dream. You’re able to catch George’s gaze, mouthing an I love you which he returns with a wink.

“Before we let you all get back to the party, theres one person we would like to specifically thank,” George speaks again before pointing down to you and motioning you to come up with them. You shake your head at him, not wanting to impede on the well deserved attention and praise the boys are getting. “Y/n, this isn’t an option come on up here. Alright, for those of you who don’t know this is my lovely, gorgeous, smart, talented-”

“Alright, get on with it Georgie!” Fred interrupts, making the crowd of people laugh. “I think they get the point.”

“Okay, okay.” George puts his hands up in defense. “Like I was saying, or those of you who don’t know this is Y/n. She’s better known to most of you as the lady who was stupid enough to say yes when I asked her to be my girlfriend, but she was the stores first hired employee. She has been with us for all the renovations, all the expansions and has always supported us in every hair-brained idea Freddie and I have come up with. She has since become our creative director for the company as well as held a seat on our board for, well as long as we’ve had a board. Without her, I think we might just crumble to the ground.”

“Oh stop that!” You don’t mean for it to come out so loud, but you make the crowd laugh again and your cheeks heat up. You slide in front of George to bring your mouth up to the microphone. “They’re making my role seem much larger than it is, all of this that you’ve seen over the years has very little to do with me.”

“Pay no mind to her, she’s being humble.” George retorts, and you decide to stop fighting it. “I guess what I’m trying to say is our lives, especially mine, would be a lot harder if Y/n wasn’t in it. I couldn’t think of a better place, in front of a better group of people, to ask this question.”

Before you can process his words, your boyfriend is lowering down on one knee and pulling a small box out of his pocket. You hear gasps and whistles coming from the crowd, making you turn to see Ginny with the biggest smile on her face. You look back down to George, your hands going to cover your gaping mouth. This is not real. The red haired boy opens the box to reveal a ring, a massive diamond in the center with what seemed like a dozen smaller diamonds surrounding it. So this is where all the money the shops have been making was going.

“Y/n, my dearest love,” He doesn’t even get a full sentence out and you’re already shaking. “It will never make sense to me why you said yes to being my girlfriend, but I’m hoping whatever came over you that day is over you now so you’ll say yes to this one too. Y/n, will you make the happiest bloke to every walk this earth and marry me?”

You can’t even form words, your heart feeling like it’s migrated to your throat. You can only nod and pull him up from his kneeling position to pull him into the tightest hug you’ve ever given. “Yes, yes. One thousand times yes. Georgie, I love you!”

George gives you that smile that melts you in every way and places the ring on your left finger. Ginny finally got her way. He pulls you in for a small kiss and your friends and family clap and shout with joy. You can hear Molly shouting over everyone else. Everyone in the room is clapping and celebrating but one person.

Ron’s mouth is agape, watching as you say yes to spending the rest of your life with his brother. He wants to be happy for the two of you, he wants to be able to celebrate with his family but the dull ache in his heart that has been present since the night in the common room that you told him to never say the words you just shouted to his brother turns into a sharp pain. This is the final nail on the coffin that is the hope Ron held that you would one day be together. That small glimmer dying as the ring is placed on your dainty hand. It doesn’t take long for Harry to notice the look on his best friends face, excusing himself from Ginny for a moment.

“You alright?” Harry asks quietly, careful not to draw attention to the one person in the room that isn’t happen for the newly engaged couple at the front. “Ron you have to at least pretend to be happy for them.”

Ron looks over to Harry and shakes his head. “I wish I could be happy for them mate. Everything in me wishes I had done something differently so it was me asking her that question.”

Harry is quiet for a while, watching as Ron’s face keeps the shocked and defeated look that its held since he saw his brother get on one knee. He balls his hands into fists every few minutes to keep himself from going completely numb. “You really still love her, don’t you? After all this time.”

“‘Course I fucking do.” Ron whispers, not meaning for it to come out as harsh as it did. He and Harry talk for a little while, just to keep his mind off the obvious stressor in the room, until Ginny is pulling Harry away to come and congratulate her best friend. Ron is left alone as we watches your smile, a genuine one this time, is glued to your face as you show anyone and everyone the ring. George is standing proudly beside you, holding your waist. You never look his way, too involved in sharing the most exciting moment of your life, though Ron wishes you would look over to him. He wishes he could catch your eye and sense some form of regret, then come save the day, but that never happens. Today is the darkest shade of blue imaginably, knowing for certain that your whole heart belongs to someone else. Quietly, for no one else to hear but him, he utters:

“I love you, I always will.”

#ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #weasley imagine #weasley twins #gryffindor #gryffindor imagines

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slutsofren · 3 years

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Danger Days Chapter 2: Kill All Your Friends

missed chapter 1? read here!

summary: things get thrown for a bit a loop at the dam when two strangers appear, revealing to be Joel, Tommy's younger brother and a young girl. their presence makes things a little tense but soon gets heated as danger follows them to thr power plant.

word count: 3,352

read on ao3 here

warnings: slight cursing, guns and well, canon-typical murder, hunter attack

notes: does anybody else look at joel and just wanna,,,, punch him in the face with kisses? just because he deserves it? no? only me?

Humid. It was always fucking humid. The lot of you have been out at the dam for nearly a week with little to be shown as progress. Things in Jackson were doing fine, wonderful even, and then the power went out. Turns out one of the turbines busted, it’s taken you and the whole group working day and night to repair it.

You leaned against the wall, taking in the greenery that was slowly encompassing the whole hydroelectric dam. It was rather beautiful. You glanced over to David, one of the few engineers from the old world, was hunched over the table mumbling softly to himself looking over a rather poorly drawn map of the turbines, trying to figure out what was going wrong. Then glanced to the far side of the courtyard where Tommy and Maria were, both engrossed in some tense conversation.

Whatever they were whisper-arguing about wasn’t going to be any of your business… until Maria finds you later on to vent at least. A little push off the wall and you grabbed your rifle before swinging it onto your back, groaning that your little break was probably over by now. Today you had guard duty. How fun.

You approached the duo, hoping to simmer down whatever was going on between them, likely both were stressed beyond hell for the turbine to come back on. Maria saw you first and put her hand on her face, rubbing away some tension. She said your name and pulled you into a half hug and you didn’t miss the small thanks she whispered in your ear for interrupting.

“Goin’ back on duty, want me to keep near the front gate?”

Maria nodded, “Sounds good. I’ll follow you in a minute.”

Tommy looked at you and gave you a friendly smile. Although you were casual friends with the man long before you met Maria, he knows where your loyalties lie but also knows you have his back on the field. When you first arrived at Jackson, bloodied and bruised, Maria didn’t trust you as far as she could have tossed you, but as things go, you both wormed into the others hearts through sheer sarcasm and your ‘take no shit’ attitude.

That’s when Tommy knew he was fucked being the only person between the two of you.

You left and went to go to your post, fanning out the jean jacket you were wearing to help relieve the humidity on your skin. The entrance to the hydroelectric dam was hellbent on attracting unwanted attention. For the near week you’ve been out here you had two bandit attacks, not to mention the ones back at Jackson, causing you to feel even stickier.

You found a spot up top the entrance to keep an eye out through the scope of your rifle, not noticing anything for another couple of hours, Maria not even coming by to her post. Just as you were going to call your shift, you noticed some slight movement across the concrete jungle of the remains of the power plant.

And some more movement.

Then more.

You grabbed your radio and phoned in, “Activity to the east. Two spotted.” The radio clicked and produced static until another click sounded.

Maria called back, “Eyes.”

“Noted. Out.”

With that, you knew exactly what to do. Everybody did. When it came down to it, nobody really did want a gunfight. When the code ‘eyes’ is spoken, it means shut up and watch. If the people pass, they go on their merry way. If they don’t, well, they typically don’t leave alive if they so much as hint at being a threat.

It��s unfortunate this is the way life is now but who are you to fight the changing tides.

You peek through your scope again, watching a dark haired man and a smaller woman work their way through the maze, figuring out how to cross the water. You took your eyes off the scope and began to watch them without the tool until they both began pushing at the gate. You grumble, “Contact made.”

Maria pops in behind you on your left and together you two and two more of the on duty guards on the other end of the gate point your rifles at the duo, revealing yourselves. The man doesn’t take notice until the girl points a gun at your companions then you and he backs off the entrance.

“Don’t even think about drawing your weapon! Tell the girl to drop hers. Now,” Maria shouts besides you.

The man backs up a couple steps, sticking his hand out to the girl, “Ellie, so as the lady says.”

She looks at him and puts her arms up in surrender, “Okay.”

Maria, still holding her rifle at the two strangers, says to the man, “Please tell me you're lost.”

“We didn’t know the place was occupied, we’re just trying to make our way through,” he points through the gate.

“Through to where?”

Then a deep voice picks up, “They're alright.”

You and Maria look away from the two down to the voice, seeing Tommy approaching the gate. “What, you know these people,” Maria asks him.

“I know him,” Tommy grumbles as he opens the gate, “He’s my goddamn brother.”

Oh.

You’d heard stories of the man before, of Joel Miller. From what Tommy has said before you recalled that the man was a bit of a brute, shut off from everybody after losing his daughter. He was a hunter and did some goddamned awful things in this world but quite frankly, who hasn’t? You know you have in the past to ensure your survival. It was something Tommy hated that his brother participated in but you couldn’t blame him, not after the shit you’ve seen and done.

Joel looked at his brother and his shoulders slumped, “Tommy.”

“Holy shit,” he said and moved past the safety of the gates and went straight to Joel, wrapping his arms around him.

“How you doin’, baby brother?”

Maria shot you a look that clearly stated she didn’t trust the man, despite being her brother-in-law, she heard the same stories you did. The man was a hunter, a murderer, even a smuggler. The very kind of people that don’t bode well with Jackson. With a sigh, you both put down your rifles and headed down to the gate to meet Joel and the girl, Ellie. She walked right up to the two men and you could faintly hear Tommy say, “You got fuckin’ old.”

“Easy - it’s gonna happen to you too,” Joel quipped.

Tommy took a step back, you watched how he shuffled on his feet and introduced Maria. “Be nice to her, she sorta runs things around here.”

“Ma’am.” Joel nods his head towards her. “Thanks for not blowing my head off.”

You roll your eyes at this from where you’re watching this all unfold, internally gagging at Joel’s whole ‘southern charm’ bit. Although he should be more grateful to you for not shooting him. Maria looks at Tommy beside her, “Would’ve been embarrassing, considering you’re my brother-in-law.”

An amused smile immediately hits your lips as you watch Joel try to absorb that information. He looks between the couple a few times before Tommy says, “We all gotta get wrangled up at some point.”

Maria turns to you and you lose the smile as she extends a hand for you to approach. “And this here is my second in command,” introducing you to Joel by giving him your first name and he nods his head, both of you deciding to not say a word to each other, silently sizing the other up. His eyes don’t leave yours but for a brief moment you swear his eyes flash down your body and back up as he lets out a low huff.

Oh, it’s on old man, you think.

Maria chuckles, noticing whatever the hell is happening between you two, and she turns towards the girl. “Ellie, right? What brings you through here?”

Ellie looks towards Joel for guidance, “Uh… it’s kind of a long story.”

Tommy immediately notices all the other eyes and ears watching this interaction unfold and puts his hand on Maria’s back, picking up the clear signal for some privacy. “Why don’t we bring ‘em inside?”

“Yeah, you hungry,” she asks Ellie.

“Starving,” the girl groans. You smile a bit, feeling pretty amused at this whole thing. From the stories you’ve been told about Joel it seemed very unlikely he’d be traveling with a companion, much less a child.

Tommy steps aside as you walk back through the gate first, Maria and Ellie behind you. “False alarm. They're friendlies,” you shout, walking further in the power plant leading the group. You take a quick glance around at the other scouts on shift, watching them watch the newcomers. Everybody was on edge, everybody was wary. The fact Tommy and Maria were letting some strangers in, in the midst of repairing an essential component to Jackson functioning properly, was not going past anybody.

You can hear Maria as she explains the stares and the heavily armed posts to Joel somewhere behind you, “We’ve been dealing with raids. Lots of bandits in this area.”

“It’s been quiet for a few days,” Tommy adds on, explaining why they answered at the gate so aggressively, as if it was any consolation of almost killing his brother and the girl.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought I’d find you in Jackson.”

“Been trying to bring the plant back to life,” Tommy explains.

This time you chime in, “We had it working before, but one of the turbines went south about a week ago. Been tryin’ to fix it up.”

Tommy adjusts his rifle on his shoulder. “We have electricity Joel… had. We’ll get it running again.”

Ellie runs past you, approaching a few of the horses. “No way! You guys have horses.”

“We got a whole lot of ‘em,” Tommy tells her. You watch as she puts her hand on the brown and white one, petting it softly.

Beside the horse is Cherry, one of the few horse wranglers in Jackson, she was kind and sweet, pretty young too all things considered. She was tall and bulky from years of shoving heavy loads of hay, sometimes you’d wonder what it’d be like to get tossed around by her. She’s kind of notorious for winning hand-to-hand combat scenarios in the training hall. Not that you ever went.

Cherry tells Ellie about the horse and they get to talking about the animal. You also hear Charlie over your shoulder asking Tommy for help with one of the iron shoes on another horse. You take a few steps back then marching towards the warehouse, settling against the wall next to Earl and he gives you a brief nod acknowledging you. He’s sweet, you think, you’ve never spoken to him much but you recall he’s one of the maintenance men around Jackson. Thankfully he’s the silent type and you don’t have to try and make polite small talk with him.

As you both lean against the wall quietly, you begin watching both Ellie and Joel and how they’re assessing the environment. Ellie seems very excited petting the horse and talking to Cherry but Joel looks on edge, mirroring everyone else. He catches you staring and looks away slowly, now watching Ellie talk to Cherry about going riding later on.

Maria and Tommy make their way towards you and you push off, walking up the stairs and opening the door, you faintly hear Maria talk to Earl about heading back to Jackson. The door creaks open and you let Tommy, Joel, Ellie, then Maria into the warehouse until both your and Maria’s radios crackle. “Maria, we’re in the control room. Steve’s about to start it back up. Do you wanna come check it out?”

Maria sighs and mumbles back to you, “I’d rather eat with Ellie.”

You stifle a bit of a laugh at her candor in front of the others and Tommy interjects, “It’s my turn anyway. I’ll go.”

Joel then volunteers to go with his brother, telling Ellie to go with you and Maria but not before flashing you a look that says something akin to ‘try something and I’ll hunt you’.

Before Ellie could protest, Maria pulls her along. “C’mon, Ellie. Let’s give the boys some space.”

The three of you are relatively quiet leading back to the office room where the food was. Ellie kept looking over her shoulder, likely for Joel. You started wondering how he came across her, doubting any possibility she was his daughter. Tommy would have known if that were the case.

You gave a look over at Ellie, now seeing her a little closer. She looks slightly gaunt, likely hasn’t eaten in a few days you suspect which worries you a bit. No kid should have to go without.

“When was the last time you ate,” you ask her.

She ponders for a moment, “Before we got here I was pretty sure that the next squirrel I saw I was gonna eat.”

You and Maria raised your eyebrows at her admission before gently laughing as you reached the room. Maria pulls out some jars of fruit and a container of jerky from underneath and hands it to her, “Here, eat some of this. We have better options back in Jackson but while we don’t have a full service kitchen out here, this is the best we got.”

“That’s okay! I’ll eat almost anything at this point,” she openly admits. You take notice in how expressive she is, likely warming up to you and Maria now.

The three of you get to talking, making idle chatter over a few opened mason jars and a hefty supply of jerky. The more you talk with Ellie, the more you grow to like her. She’s got a mouth of a sailor and sarcasm that’d turn any old man running.

Wonder if she’s annoyed the hell out of Joel, you muse. Now you sit, chewing on fruit and imagining how easy it’d be to get under his skin. You’re torn out of your thoughts when the lights suddenly turn on, “Thank the damned stars! I’m ready to get out of here. Everybody is driving me up the wall.”

Maria throws a loose grape at you, “Thanks a lot, asshole.”

“Anytime,” you wink.

“How long have you two known each other,” Ellie asks you both.

You pop a piece of fruit in your mouth, “Just two years. She was already married to Tommy when I arrived.”

“Can’t believe you’re married to his brother,” Ellie groans. “Joel is such a grump, can’t imagine how the other one is.”

Maria nods and smiles, still eating some of the peaches. “Oh, trust me. Some days I want to strangle him. Didn’t expect to ever meet Joel, if I’m bein’ honest.”

“I couldn’t recognize him, not even by that photo,” you say mindlessly, reaching for your canteen and drinking water.

Ellie picks her head up a little more, “Photo? What photo?”

Maria gets up from her seat and walks to one of the duffle bags in the other room, she searches around before she pulls out a photo and when she returns, hands it to Ellie. She gestures to you, “Her and Tommy went down to Texas about a year ago, he wanted to see what was left of his and Joel’s old life and scavenge what they could.”

“We didn’t find much,” you continue, “Tommy didn’t think he’d ever see his brother again, it was like his way of saying goodbye so he took this photo of him and a couple others.”

“Who’s the girl,” Ellie asks looking at the picture.

“Sarah.” You shift in your seat, not feeling entirely comfortable with this conversation anymore.

Maria finishes your sentence, “She was his daughter. She didn’t survive very long after the outbreak.”

Before you could try to steer the conversation in another direction, a loud siren echoed through the hall as shouts filled the warehouse.

“Bandits,” someone shouted as gunshots rang out.

You stand up and push Ellie behind you, looking for your rifle. It was too far away, tucked under one of the abandoned desks. “Fuck,” you shout as you see a handful of hunters enter the room.

Drawing the two handguns strapped to your thighs, you begin to take shots at them, not exactly hitting them where it was vital but enough to make them stumble and drop. Maria grabs you by the shoulder, “Let’s go!”

You retreat backwards into the closed off manager-type office and from the corner of your eye you see a man rise from the other side of a broken window and take aim at Ellie behind you. You whipped around and shoved against her with an ‘oof’ just as you hear something whizz past you and hit the wall above the two of you.

Hovering above Ellie, you keep her head down with your right hand, abandoning the gun beside her as you and Maria take alternating shots at the invaders. “Move, Ellie,” you tell her, lifting yourself up to give her room to maneuver into the office while shielding her.

Maria shuffles into the room after you and the girl, “There’s more coming in. We can’t take all of them.”

“Shit, okay,” you look around frantically. You were running low on bullets now, the rest of your spare ammunition was left in your backpack. In an entirely different area. Your eyes searched around the small room and you got Maria’s attention, together you pulled a nearby table into the office, barricading yourselves.

“Under the table, now,” she yells at Ellie then looks at you.“Guess we’ll have to wait for the men to save us,” she says a little bitterly.

Together, the three of you hid. Waiting for the echo of bullets to cease after what feels like a lifetime.

Faintly, you could hear the familiar voice of Tommy yelling and a gruff one responding, likely his brother. You released the breath you had been holding onto as the last gunshot rang out. Between you and Maria, Ellie had her hands over her ears and she slowly lowered them until jumping up and shouting “They’re all dead!”

Maria rose to her feet as Tommy and her called out for each other, “The kid’s with us!” She jumps out the shattered window and runs to her husband as they check over each other.

You help Ellie out the office room the same way and Joel looks over her the same way as she recalls the attack. “Joel, oh, man…,” Ellie begins talking so fast that she’s out of breath. “They were coming in from every direction and they were both like ‘we gotta run’ and so we dove over these tables and this huge guy blasts in with a shotgun-”

“Slow down, slow down. Listen-,” Joel cuts her off. He puts his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye, “Hey, hey, are you hurt?”

“No!” She looks at you, “She protected me!”

Joel follows her gaze and you look him in the eye, cocking an eyebrow at him.

You’re not really competitive, you don’t really like attention either, but there was something about Joel fuckin’ Miller that really got to you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be mindful of everything, maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over your body, maybe it was the fact he was unfortunately making you squirm where you stood as his hardened glare seemed to see right through you, asking you to try him.

Whatever it was, his hardened stare made you quiver ever so slightly. You took a few very mindful steps away from the man, walking towards Maria and Tommy when you caught the tail end of whatever he was saying to your best friend, “- to talk.”

It seemed like that was not what Maria wanted to hear as her already pale face grew paler and her signature scowl etched back across her face.

#joel (the last of us)#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller / reader #joel tlou x reader insert #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #danger days fic #joel tlou x reader #asher's writing

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cobaltusami · 3 years

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Tropical Vacation pt. 3

Hey hi hello! This part has been my favorite to write thus far, obviously because I am obsessed with Sakura 💙 lol.

I hope you like it!

Characters in this part: Switch!Sakura, Switch!Mondo, Ler!Hiro, technically Ler!Taka?, Leon, Hina

Word Count: 3,299

PT 1: [Click here.], PT 2: [Click here.], PT 3: [You are here.]

Later on In the day, the vibe was back to normal. The beach sounds were actually pretty calming...

Well, that’s what they would have liked to say. The sounds would have been calming, had It not been for the loud laughter and swearing drowning It out.

You see, Mondo thought he would try to lie in wait for Sakura, but the minute he touched her, she grabbed his hands and judo flipped him onto the floor, pinning him down and proceeding to wreck him with tickles.

“You don’t learn, do you?” she hummed, her fingers tickling every patch of unprotected skin she could reach. “Did you honestly think I was going to let you jump me?”

“Fuhuhuhuhuhuck! Ahahahahahahaha!” Mondo laughed. “Hohohohohow did you eheheheheven seehehe me!?”

“I am not an idiot. I knew you would be waiting for me, You don’t give up that easily.” She replied. “But to answer your question, I didn’t. Hina gave you away.”

Hina giggled deviously as Mondo glared as best he could at her. “Youhuhuhu’re so dehehehehad AsahinahahaAAAHAHAHA-- SHIHIHIHIT!”

He shrieked as Sakura managed to slip her fingers under his arms, which were pinned to his sides. “Don’t threaten Hina.” She chastised.

“SAHAHAHAHAKURAHAHAHA I AHAHAHAM SOHOHO GONNA WREHEHEHEHECK YOU FOHOHOHOR THIS! MAHAHAHARK MY WORDS!” He declared through his fit of hysterical laughter, squirming to no avail.

“Yeah sure you will.” She rolled her eyes fondly at her hot headed friend. “You’d need two of you to hold me down, And unfortunately for you that doesn’t appear to be likely… Unless you have some kind of cloning power I was unaware of--”

Mondo was going to make a smartass retort, but was unable to when Hina joined in, tickling his stomach and ribs. “FAHAHAHAHACK! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” He cackled.

“Are you able to clone yourself? No? Well… That’s unfortunate for you.” She teased, speeding up.

“Guess you’ll just have to lay here and laugh instead!” Hina giggled.

Oh, they were so going to the top of Mondo’s list- Move over Leon you’re no longer public enemy number one as far as Mondo Is concerned.

“Did you seriously try to tickle Sakura again? How dense are you, Mondo?” Leon chided, unable to help himself from grinning at the sight before him.

Okay, Maybe Leon stays at the top of the list too…

“DOHOHOHON’T JUHUHUHUST STAND THEHEHERE!! HEHEHELP ME!” He shrieked.

“Are you nuts? Do I look like I have a death wish??” Leon laughed.

“IHIHIHIF YOU DON’T HEHEHELP ME YOU DOHOHOHO!”

Leon sighed. “Fine. Hey Hina, Wanna go get some donuts with me?”

Hina stopped tickling, perking up at the mention of donuts. “Donuts??” She looked up at Sakura with pleading eyes. Sakura chuckled.

“Yes, You can go.”

“Thank you!” She squealed, jumping up and running towards the kitchen, grabbing Leon’s arm and dragging him behind her.

Mondo managed to pull an arm free, he quickly latched on to the first part of her he could reach and wasn’t guarding or anticipating- her leg. He delivered a few squeezes to her leg just above her knee, this action made her flinch and a smile briefly cross her face.

She grabbed his hand and pried his off of her, pinning it down to the floor with a small indignant huff. “Was that your best attempt? I suppose I was expecting something better from you.”

Mondo narrowed his eyes as he caught his breath. “Yeah? How’s this?” He pulled his other arm free and shot his hand up under her shirt, attacking her side.

She yelped, her body jolting away from his touch, a few giggles slipping past her lips. “Mohondo-- I will rihip your hand off!”

“I thought you weren’t ticklish?” Mondo grinned, his fingers following her wherever she squirmed to. “You look pretty fuckin’ ticklish to me.”

Sakura giggled a bit more, deciding her best course of action now would be to get away from him before she broke out into full on giggles. Because as soon as she did that, She was toast.

Whenever Sakura has been tickled In the past, she would become completely helpless and immobilized by her laughter, like her body would lock up and just stop responding like some slow web browser.

Only two people knew about this weakness of hers, Kenshiro and Hina. The only two people brave enough to tickle her. She would prefer not to add Mondo to that list.

She flew off of Mondo, taking a moment to recompose herself. Though she could only take but a moment because Mondo swiftly followed, having since recovered from his laughing fit.

Sakura knew she couldn’t reach her room, she’d have to run right past Mondo who would undoubtedly be waiting and catch her in his arms. So she ran into the dining hall where Hina and Leon were eating donuts.

“Oh hey Sakura, How’s It going?” Leon asked casually.

Sakura ran around to the other side of the table as she heard Mondo burst into the room. She eyed him carefully, the table serving as a barrier between the two. “Where do you think you can run to that I won’t catchcha?” Mondo asked teasingly, approaching the table.

“Mondo… I will reverse anything you try.” Sakura tried to reason with the Biker as she backed up a bit so that she was out of his reach. “So It’s pointless to continue.”

He thought about It, she was probably right… She’s faster and as much as Mondo hated to admit it- stronger. Maybe he should--

“Nuh uh!” Hina interjected, her mouth full. “Sakura’s lying, She freezes up when you tickle--”

“HINA!”

Leon snorted with amusement.

Mondo raised an eyebrow. “Reeeaally? Well, I guess It is pointless to continue… Pointless for you.” He smirked. “Just accept your fate and maybe I won’t be as merciless… though, I wouldn’t count on it after that little stunt you and Hina pulled.”

Sakura sighed internally. Thanks a lot Hina… Now her worst fear is coming true, Mondo now knows about her weakness. Guess she has to use her speed now. Her eyes darted around for a way out, but before she could find a route, Mondo lunged across the table at her.

Though thinking fast as always, she dove under the table at the same time and bolted out the door, with Mondo swearing and chasing after her.

She was going to run back to her room, but saw her friends In the hall and didn’t want Mondo to accidentally run them over so she made for the stairs and dove into the rec room to hide.

She leaned back against the wall next to the door, gasping softly, catching her breath. The room was empty, though she wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

She stilled her breath as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, they lingered outside the rec room for a moment before becoming silent. She wasn’t sure If he was looking in the room or just standing there.

After another moment of silence, she heard footsteps go running down the hall and she let out a breath of relief. She stayed there a bit longer before peaking out the window, There wasn’t anyone there.

She opened the door and went to run down the stairs but a strong arm hooked around her waist and pulled her back into the rec room with a startled yelp. “Where do ya think you’re going?” Mondo grinned as he kicked the door shut.

Sakura pulled out of his hold and backed up nervously. “M-Mondo… Think about this, I told you earlier that It would take two of you to hold me down.”

“Oh, I know what ya said.” He chuckled evilly, advancing towards the retreating Martial Artist. “But I also know what Hina said, Too. Ya lock up when ya get tickled.”

“If that were true, then how did I get away from you earlier?” She challenged.

“If It’s not true, why are you nervous?” He retorted, closing in on the white haired girl.

Sakura didn’t have a response to that, well, except for a small gasp when she bumped into the couch and almost lost her balance.

Mondo took this opening and coiled his arms around her, pulling her down to the couch next to him. She resisted as he suspected she would so he had to throw all of his weight into it.

Immediately his trained fingers were scribbling all over her sides. “Gotcha~” he grinned.

She let out a strangled whimper before bursting into breathy giggles, she tried to get away but the remaining strength she had wasn’t enough to get free once he sat on her legs. “Mohohondo! Stohohop It!” She complained, wrapping her arms around her midsection in a feeble attempt to block off other spots.

“I thought ya weren’t ticklish? What happened to that?” Mondo teased, running his fingers across her toned stomach experimentally. He wished he had enough time to ask Hina where she was most ticklish at, but figured it would be more fun to find out for himself.

She giggled a bit harder. “Okahahay, I’m tihihicklish! Are you hahahappy?”

“Yes.” Mondo smirked. “‘Cause that means I can get some revenge on ya!”

“Ihihi swear you’ll rehehehegret thi-- AAH! NOHOHOHO!”

Mondo immediately honed in on that spot upon drawing that reaction from the fighter. “What’s wrong? A lil ticklish on your hips?” he asked teasingly, squeezing at her hips relentlessly.

Sakura tried to contain her laughter but it was no use. “DOHOHOHOHON’T!” She grabbed uselessly at his hands, unable to pry them away.

“Don’t? Don’t what?”

“I AHAHAHAM GOING TO KIHIHIHICK YOUR ASS!” She threatened, blushing bright red. Well, Looks like she wasn’t gonna fall for the obvious trick like Taka would...

Mondo laughed, shaking one of her hands off. He reached up and fluttered his fingers against her neck. “Oh yeah? Tell me all about how you’re gonna do that. All I gotta do Is tickle you and you’ll crumble to the floor In a cute giggly blushy heap.” He teased.

She brought her shoulder up to try to block him. “SHUHUHUT UP!” She blushed more.

Ah, So that’s what her trigger is. The cutesy teasing approach. Mondo grinned evilly at the realization. “What? You don’t like being told you’re adorable?” He cooed.

He moved his hand away from her neck to tickle her newly exposed ribs thanks to her trying to block him from her neck.

“STAHAHAHAP!” She laughed harder, trying to turn on the side he was currently attacking to protect her apparently very sensitive ribs.

Mondo released her hip much to her relief but to her dismay his fingers were now mercilessly wiggling against the ribs on her other side. “Man, We should tickle you more often… You’re just so cute when you laugh! Maybe I’ll tell Hiro and the others about--”

“DOHOHOHON’T YOU DAHAHAHARE!” She laughed, her body trembling, not used to being tickled.

“Why not? I think you could use it. You’re so stoic all the time.” Mondo chuckled, tickling the spots between her ribs.

While that may be true, Sakura still would prefer no one else be brave enough to tickle her because she finds it completely embarrassing. When she was training with Kenshiro sometimes he’d cheat and make her submit by completely destroying her with tickles. It was totally unfair, He knew all of her worst spots thanks to them being friends for so long.

She would also prefer no one hear her squeal like she just did. She tried to wrack her brain to come up with a way to turn this around and get out of Mondo’s tickly grasp, but It was really hard to concentrate with him viciously tickling her.

“What? Don’t got a smartass response to that?” He smirked, speeding up the tickles to her ribs. “Ya givin’ up already, Sakura?”

C’mon… Think! Think think thi… oh god It tickles so bad!

“NOHOHOHO! I NEHEHEHEVER GIHIHIVE UP!” She retorted stubbornly, trying to will herself to throw him off. But alas just as previously mentioned, her body wouldn’t respond to her brain.

“Aight, Whatever works for you.” He shrugged, giving a lopsided grin. “I’m pretty content tickling you and listening to your cutesy laughter.” he teased, marveling at the way her face turned pink at the teasing.

Oh! That’s It! Maybe she can’t outpower him right now, but she can outwit him!

“YOUHUHU KNOW, FOR SOHOHOMEONE WHO GETS SOHO NEVEROUS THEHEHEY YELL WHEN FLIHIHIRTING, YOU’RE AHAHAHAWFULLY CAHAHALM RIGHT NOW.” She struggled to taunt him through her loud laughter.

Sakura managed to open an eye to observe his reaction, just as she hoped he would, he got flustered and turned pink himself. “U-Uh yeah, that’s ‘cus I’m not flirting with you.” He tried to dispute awkwardly.

“REHEHEALLY?? SOHOHO DOHOHO YOU CAHAHAHALL EVERYONE CUHUHUTE OR JUHUHUST ME AND CHIHIHIRO?”

“H-Hey! Don’t get it twisted!” Mondo stammered awkwardly, stopping his torment of her. “I’m not-- ACK!”

That was just the opening she needed, She grabbed him by the arms and flipped their positions, pinning his arms above his head as she caught her breath. “H-Heh….heheh…” She giggled still, her body still slightly trembling.

“Wh-Wha-- You fuckin’ tricked me!” Mondo growled.

“Of course… Just as you were… I used your weakness… against you…” She smirked tiredly. “I… Know you didn’t… mean It like that… But I also know… How awkward you are about that sort of thing…”

“That’s so not fair!” He complained, struggling in her iron grip.

“I don’t believe there were any ground rules laid out, were there?” She retorted. “You brought It on yourself when you started teasing me.”

Think quick, you’re in danger now Owada… Do to her what she did to you… Ooh, He can work with that.

“I brought it on myself when I started teasing you?” He repeated for confirmation, continuing after she nodded. “Soo… that mean you actually like being tickled, just not teased?” He grinned slyly.

She felt her face heat up. “Wh-What?!”

“Do you actually like being tickled?” He repeated.

“I heard what you said!” She snapped, flustered. “N-No! Of course I don’t! How girly do you think I am?!”

Ohh, Maybe he accidentally hit the nail on the head? Therapist Owada Is detecting some deep rooted issues she has about being perceived as weak or girly.

“Well, It’s just your wording Is kinda confusing… wouldn’t I have brought It on myself the moment I put my hands on you?” He grinned cheekily at her.

“Of course you did! I just meant that the teasing was the final straw!”

“So the tickling itself wasn’t bad enough?”

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the biker. “Do you think I don’t see what you’re doing? I know you’re purposely misconstruing my words to distract me so you can reverse our positions again.”

Before Mondo could argue, She used her free hand (bc of course she had a free hand) to mercilessly attack his belly and underarm. “I warned you that you would regret it.”

“BAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHAKURAHAHAHA STAHAHAP!” He barked through fits of laughter.

The door to the rec room swung open. “Bro?? I heard you scream! Are you--” Kiyotaka paused, taking in the unusual sight before him.

“Hello Taka.” Sakura greeted nonchalantly.

“FAHAHAHACK! TAHAHAHAHAKA HEHEHELP!” He cackled, trying to throw the Martial artist off.

Taka chuckled a bit after he got used to the scene in front of him. “Bro, What did you do to end up like this?” He asked amusedly, approaching the two.

“He thought I would let him get away with tickling me.” She answered.

Taka raised his eyebrows in surprise, Mondo actually managed to catch her? And he missed It? Damn. “Kyoudai, why would you do something so reckless?!”

Sakura chuckled.

“WHOHOHOSE SIHIHIDE ARE YOU OHOHOHON!?” Mondo shot back.

“R-Right, Sorry.” Taka smiled sheepishly. “U-Um, How am I supposed to help you?”

“You don’t.” Sakura replied, her tone warning as she glanced at the Moral Compass.

“JUHUHUHUHUST TIHIHICKLE HER! SHEHEHEHEHE FREEHEHEHEHEZES UP!”

“Taka,” She paused her torment of Mondo to look at Taka. “I feel I must offer you a fair warning, If you tickle me, I will hunt you down afterwards and make Mondo’s tickles look like child’s play.”

Taka squeaked nervously, his arms wrapping around his midsection subconsciously. “Y-Yes ma’am. U-Understood.”

“Fuck It, I’ll do It!” Hiro said, suddenly at the other end of the couch.

“Wh-Wha-- Hiro?? When did you get he--”

Hiro squeezed her sides, causing her to yelp and burst out laughing. She tried to get away by sliding to the floor, but Hiro followed, laughing along with her. “Man Sakura, I never would’ve guessed you’d be this ticklish!” He grinned.

“Stahahahap hehehehelping hihihim he stahahaharted it!” She complained childishly.

“I’m about to end It, too.” Mondo smiled evilly as he got down on the floor with them.

“Hey, Quit squirming will ya? It’s making It harder for me to--”

Hiro immediately stilled his fingers in surprise when Sakura shrieked. Mondo’s eyes shot to Hiro’s hands, they were resting on the back of her ribs. “Well well…”

“Hey are you okay, Sakura?” Hiro asked, concerned he had hurt her.

Before Sakura could recollect herself to get away, Mondo attacked. Wiggling his fingers incessantly against the back of her ribs.

She shrieked again, this time hysterical laughter following. “AAH! NAHAHAHAHA! MOHOHOHONDOHOHO DOHOHOHON’T!”

Hiro blinked In surprise. “Ohhh! I see, Your back Is ticklish!” He laughed as he realized, his fingers tracing delicately across her back. This made her squeal uncharacteristically as her body shook with laughter.

“Looks like Hiro found your ticklish spot.” He chuckled, tickling the spots between the back of her ribs without mercy.

“NAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE YOUHUHUHUHUHU JEHEHEHEHEHERKS!”

“Hey, Don’t be mean!” Hiro frowned, squeezing her waist. This drew another squeal followed by louder laughter from the fighter.

“Yeah, It’s not our fault you’re so fuckin’ ticklish~” Mondo teased, He glanced up at Taka who was watching with a bit of amusement. “Wanna help us?”

“W-What? But she said--”

“You think she’s In a position to be threatening my Kyoudai?” Mondo smirked, speeding up his tickles to emphasize his point.

Taka hesitated, It felt kind of mean to gang up on Sakura like this, but on the other hand… When does an opportunity like this present itself? And her laughter does sound lovely…

Sakura was hoping that Taka wouldn’t give in, but was sorely disappointed when she felt another set of hands on her, Nails gliding gently across her back. This paired with the harsher tickles to her ribs and the squeezes to her waist and hips made her laugh turn wheezy and borderline silent as she shook violently with laughter.

It wasn’t long though before they heard the familiar chime come across the monitor. Mondo and Hiro both groaned as they all ceased their tickling, much to Sakura’s appreciation.

“Ahem! This Is a school announcement!” Monokuma’s voice spoke. “All Students please report to the Gym for a special surprise!”

“What do you think It Is this time?” Mondo sighed to his classmates.

“I have no idea, but whatever It Is It can’t be good.” Hiro frowned, crossing his arms, Taka nodded In agreement.

“Sakura? Ya good?” Mondo chuckled at the still giggling heap on the floor.

“G-Give me ahaha… minute… hehehe…”

“You have a cute giggle.” Hiro complimented, much to her dismay.

“D-Don’t sahahahay that… wohohohord to mehehe…”

“What word?”

“Cute.” Mondo snickered at the weak glare she gave him. “C’mon giggles, Let’s get to the gym.” He said as he stood up, offering his hand to help her up.

She took it and he pulled her to her feet, once up she pulled him in closer to whisper to him. “This Isn’t over, Owada.” She declared threatening, letting go of him.

Mondo cleared his throat nervously, He knew that wasn’t just a threat… It was a promise.

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bisou-doux · 3 years

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The Starving Games ft. Freddie Weasel: AKA Pt. 1 of my Hunger Games x Harry Potter crossover series (OC x Fred Weasley)

Warnings (None of these are really graphic, but feel free not to read if any of these things make you uncomfortable!!): Blood, knives, knife wound, character death(s), severe injury mention (lost limbs), dead animal mention?? (a rat)

This is the first fic I’ve ever written! I got the idea from a post I saw from @wand3ringr0s3 Comments and criticism are GREATLY appreciated and it’d be really cool to get some feedback on my writing style!!

a/n: Also if I do write more, this is gonna be an enemies to allies to lovers situation bc I <3 angst

Tagging my mutuals: @ourloveisforthelovely @darthwheezely @amrtxntia @anchoeritic @kellsslut @whizboingies @beiahadid

Darkness. Pure black. I hear noises coming from somewhere. Muffled. Echoing through the endless void around me. The noises become louder. Someone is talking. The more I listen, the louder and clearer they get. Clear enough that I can almost make out the words. Suddenly, everything goes deafeningly quiet. My ears start ringing. But then, a single voice echoes through the silence, “Seph?”. I recognize it immediately. “Maeve?” I call out. “Seph? Is that you?” she responds, her voice shaky with fear. “Yes, yes, Maeve, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” she responds, panic rising in her voice. “Seph, I’m scared.”

“I know. I know, kiddo,” I swallow hard, “Hey. Hey, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay? Just stay calm.”

My heart is racing. I look around for some sort of clue, but nothing but complete darkness surrounds me. I tentatively reach my hand out in front of me. My fingertips graze something. Something cold. I take a step forward and reach out again. My hand finds what feels like a thin chain. I roll it around in my fingers before pulling down on it. The space is immediately flooded with blinding white light. I blink a few times to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness. I’m at home; a tiny one room flat that I share with my mother, sister, and our cat. Except it’s empty- no furniture, not even a door. I see my sister standing a few feet in front of me, her hands bound together by a thick rope. “Maeve!” I rush towards her. “Seph!” she cries. As I reach out to hug her I’m pushed back by an invisible force. I look up and there she is- standing inside a giant glass dome. I take a few steps back, trying to register what I’m seeing.

“Shall we draw the names?” I whip my head around to see a woman in a magenta frock standing on the other side of the room. Her dress is covered in so many frills and flounces that she takes up half the flat. On her head is a ridiculous blonde wig that must add at least two feet to her height. Her face is covered entirely in white powder, with her cheeks overly rouged, and her top lip painted magenta to match the dress. She looks like a very posh clown.

“I-I’m sorry what?”

She laughs airily, “The names, darling. Surely you remembered?”

“Remember what?”

She tsked then pulled out two smaller versions of the glass dome from the frills at the front of her dress. They each had a small slip of paper in them. “Go on. Pick one.” Her voice was incredibly high-pitched, and she spoke with a capitol accent. I stepped towards her and hesitantly reached into the bowl in her right hand. I unfolded the slip of paper, ‘Maeve Whitlock’. I stared at the name in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Will you take her fate as your own?”

“What do you mean? What fate?”

The woman let out another laugh, this one high and cold, it echoed around the entire room and caused the floor to shake. Suddenly, I heard Maeve call out to me, “SEPH!” I looked back to where she was in the dome. There was a dark, shadowy figure standing behind her, holding a knife to her neck. Her hands and feet were bound to a small wooden chair, and her mouth was now gagged with a dishcloth. I ran towards the dome, panic rising further in my chest. “MAEVE!” I shouted desperately. She looked at me fearfully, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. I banged and kicked and rammed my body at the glass so hard, I should’ve shattered something. But it was no use. I looked back to where the woman had been standing, but she was gone. The shadowy figure stood still, holding the knife to my sister’s neck.

“LET GO OF HER YOU FREAK!” I cried, banging my fists against the dome. Maeve was panicking now, her chest rising and falling rapidly, tears running down her face, her muffled pleas penetrating through the glass. “MAEVE.” I cried out; my voice cracked as the salty tears streamed down my cheeks. But I was too late. The dark figure suddenly slashed the knife across her throat, her cries stopped and she slumped down into her seat, eyes still half open, blood now seeping into her blouse. “NO!” I screamed, sinking down to the ground. The glass squeaked as my hands dragged down over the exterior. I looked back up towards the shadowy figure, only to see it was no longer there. In its place I saw myself, a satisfied smile on my face. I heard the clownish woman’s disembodied laugh echo through the flat, “What a pity,” the voice said, “you could’ve saved her! But now, I’m afraid, you must face the consequences of your actions.” The clone slowly raised the hand still holding the knife, and pointed directly at me. Suddenly, I felt the cool touch of metal against my throat. The other me winked, and I felt the blade drag deep across my neck. I started to choke, the blood pooling into my airways. I instinctively brought my hand up to the wound. My vision started turning black around the edges. I looked down to see the front of my dress already soaked in red. The last thing I saw was my own hand, holding the knife, droplets of blood falling steadily from the tip of the blade. Then, everything went dark.

My eyes shot open. All I saw was fur, and something was blocking my breathing. I sat up quickly, and the ball of fluff leapt off my face. The cat looked up at me from his new place on my lap- those big amber eyes practically staring into my soul- and meowed loudly. I sighed in annoyance. “Stupid cat.” I grumbled as I lifted him up and let him jump to the floor. I rubbed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heartbeat. My body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. I looked down at the bed to see my sister still sleeping soundly beside me. I took a deep, shaky breath and stroked the top of her head, moving away some of the stray hairs lying across her face. I glanced over at the digital clock next to me, SUNDAY: JULY 4. 8:26 AM. Today was Reaping Day; no wonder I had that horrible nightmare. This would be my 4th year participating in the drawing, it was Maeve’s first. How unlucky it was that her twelfth birthday had only been three days prior. If she’d just been born a few days later, she could’ve been spared for another year.

I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My mother was already awake, sewing some buttons back onto Maeve’s school shirt. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, just now.” I yawned.

“Is Maeve still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 8:30. Should I wake her up?”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighed, “let her sleep some more. I’ll wake her up soon.” She held up the shirt to examine her work, “Still needs a few more stitches…” She held the needle between her teeth and reached down to her sewing basket to grab another spool of thread. I looked down as I felt the cat’s bushy tail brush past my ankles. I knelt down and scratched behind his ears.

“Did you feed Tulip yet?” I asked. The fluffy, tricolor, flat-faced cat was now sitting at my feet, purring contentedly.

“Didn’t have to; he caught his own breakfast. A huge rat, which he so lovingly dropped on my pillow this morning.” My mother replied.

I stifled a laugh.

“Since you’re already up, go ahead and shower. I’ve laid out your clothes for you on the kitchen table, so when you’re done, just change into them and come back here so I can do your hair. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She smiled at me then went back to her work. I grabbed some soap and a clean towel from the small shelf near the entrance and walked out. “Make sure you don’t use up all the hot water!” she called out as I closed the door behind me. “Don’t worry, I won’t!”.

We didn’t have our own bathroom- there was one toilet and one shower per floor, which could be shared by anywhere from 5 to 20 people. There were 5 apartments on each of the 4 floors- all one room- with one bed, a stove, a sink, a small table and chairs, and some shelves for storage. Each apartment had a heater and air conditioner, but they were never guaranteed to work when you needed them. Sometimes only one side of the building would have heating, or only certain floors had AC, or only specific apartments. Often, the whole building wouldn’t have either for days at a time. The same thing happened with the water and electricity. You could never fully rely on any of the appliances being in working order. As a result, we shared a lot with other apartments. If someone’s stove wasn’t working, they could just knock on a neighbor’s door and use theirs. If only one apartment on our floor had heating during the winter, there were no objections when everyone else would come over and make themselves at home. It made it feel like we were all one family, and it was customary to refer to many of your neighbors as your aunt or uncle. This was common throughout the District, as almost everyone aside from the mayor and peacekeepers lived in small, rundown tenements, expanding outwards from the city center, which was home to the Justice building. Here, in District 8, we produce textiles. There are 6 factories in total; one of which is entirely dedicated to making peacekeeper uniforms. We typically start in the factories at 14, splitting the day between school and work. We aren’t assigned specific jobs until we turn 18. Until then, those in charge of production make requests for certain numbers of workers, and we go wherever we’re needed. Once we finish school, we’re assigned permanent job positions based on both our aptitude tests and our performances in various factory tasks. The better you do on the aptitude test, the better (or at least safer) your job will be. Those with the highest scores tend to be assigned as desk jockeys- where the risk of dying on the job is fairly low. Those with the lowest scores are sent to work in the most dangerous parts of the factories; you can always tell who works there because chances are, they’ve lost some part of their limbs...or face...or they’re, you know, missing a hand...Then there’s those whose scores fall somewhere in the middle; if they have a specific skill, like baking, or perhaps healing, they’re assigned a job based on that. The rest are assigned mid-level factory jobs, which were still dangerous, but the chances of getting to keep all your fingers were significantly higher! (But not guaranteed).

When I turned on the shower, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was delightfully warm. It took everything in me not to keep standing there, enjoying the warmth, until the water would turn cold. I shivered as I stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped my towel around me. I walked swiftly down the hall and flung open the door to the apartment. I grabbed my outfit from the kitchen table. A white trapeze-line dress ending an inch or so above my knees, long billowy sleeves pulled tight at the wrists, and a mock turtleneck with tiny ruffles adorning the edge. My shoes sat on the floor next to it; dark blue suede ankle-boots with small square heels.They were a birthday present from my mother; most definitely from the black market. I got dressed and pulled up a stool in front of my mother’s chair. She combed through my curls as gently as she could, but I still winced when she pulled too hard at a knot. She braided four small plaits at the front and sides of my hair, pulling them into two larger braids that she twisted together and pinned to the back of my head. She handed me the mirror. I looked into it and smiled, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I turned around and hugged her tightly. She smelled of soap and clean linen, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on- all I knew was that it was comforting and warm. I held on a little longer than usual. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. She brought her hand up and gently stroked the back of my head. We both knew what could happen today...I tried my best not to think about it. Maeve soon came back from the shower and changed into a mod-style purple dress and black mary janes. My mother braided her hair in a similar style to mine, adding a small flower clip at the side. She looked us once over, nodded, then stood at the mirror and added a few pins to secure her own hairstyle. She sighed, “Ready?”

“Yeah.” “Yeah.” my sister and I said in unison.

My mother chuckled lightly as we stepped through the threshold.

We walked the few blocks over to the underground and boarded the train headed to the Justice building. The train car was packed. Everyone was dressed in their best (and most colorful) outfit. These types of clothes were only worn on special occasions; those above working age wore grey coveralls to work and school, and something drab and ill-fitting otherwise. As we exited the train car, I kept a tight grip on Maeve’s hand. As we emerged from the underground, our eyes were bombarded with light, and I squinted as the brightness flooded my vision. When my eyes adjusted, I spotted the registration table. I gave my mother a brief hug and went to join the girls’ line with Maeve. Soon, we’d reached the front. I looked down at Maeve, “You want me to go first, kiddo?”

She glanced up at me with wide eyes, then stared forward and shook her head.

“You sure?”

“Mhmm. I just wanna get it over with.”

“Okay.” I hunched over and whispered into her ear, “You’re gonna be fine, I promise. It’s not as bad as you think. I’ll see you in a few minutes, yeah?”

She nodded. I gave her hand a squeeze and watched her walk up to the table. I heard them speaking faintly and a few minutes later, she turned around to look at me, a nervous expression on her face. I gave her a reassuring nod then headed over there myself.

The woman at the table sat there with a bored expression. She looked to be in her 30’s, but the heavy dark circles under her eyes seemed to age her quite a few years.

“Last name?” She said. She didn’t bother to look up at me.

“Whitlock.”

“Whitlock…” she muttered, flipping through the pages, “Right, Whitlock. Persephone?”

“Yeah.”

She crossed my name off the list. “You’re sixteen?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she sighed, “Hold out your hand, please.” She took a small device next to her and clipped it onto my index finger. I winced when I felt the needle prick my skin. She unclipped the device then stamped my wrist with the capitol’s sigil.

“You can go join your age group, fourth line from the left.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

She paused, then looked up at me sympathetically, “And um, good luck.”

I nodded and gave her a curt smile before heading over to join my peers. We were arranged by age and gender, boys and girls separate, all standing in rows in front of the stage. I stood waiting, and mindlessly watched the rows slowly multiply. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon enough, I looked up at the stage to see a woman in a bright magenta pantsuit. The hem of her skirt was decorated with a flounce of fabric, and she wore a light pink blouse underneath her suit jacket. The front of it contained so many ruffles, you could hardly see her neck. Her hair was pale blonde, and styled in a way that made it look like a cloud sitting on top of her head. Her face was powdered white, save for her blushed cheeks and glossy lipstick. Her lips were absurdly over lined, both painted a shocking fuchsia that closely matched her outfit. She approached the podium with tiny steps and cleared her throat daintily, “Welcome, everyone, to the reaping ceremony for the 59th annual Hunger Games!” People remained silent; the only reaction being a cough from someone in the crowd. She cleared her throat once more, “As always, we shall begin by watching a special film from the capitol, telling us the history and origins of this unique tradition, and to remind us why we are all standing here today.”

At her words, the two televisions turned on to display the Capitol’s sigil. It faded out, and a film about the glorious history of Panem started rolling. I tuned out and stared blankly at the rows of people ahead of me. When the film concluded, Ms. magenta up at the podium clapped enthusiastically. She was the only one. “Oh, wasn’t that wonderful?” She exclaimed, “What a rich history this nation has.”

I scoffed, that’s one way to put it, I thought.

“Now, as always- ladies first.” She stuck her hand into the large glass bowl on the right side of the podium and shuffled her hand through the slips of paper before snatching one up. She gingerly unfolded the paper and held it delicately between her index finger and thumb.

She cleared her throat and read out the name, “Maeve Whitlock.”

I felt my heart stop in my chest.

No.

My eyes darted through the crowd and I saw people make way for her as she slowly walked to the stage, shaking with every step. Images from my dream flashed through my mind- most poignantly, the image of me watching helplessly, as a dark shadowy figure slashed a knife across my sister’s throat. Panic rose in my chest; my heart beat so loudly in my ears that I barely heard myself shout, “WAIT!” Everyone turned to look at me. My breathing sped up as I suddenly felt at a loss for air, “I volunteer.” I added, my voice cracking slightly, “I volunteer as tribute.” Maeve looked back at me with pleading eyes and shook her head furiously. I avoided her gaze and stared straight ahead as the crowd parted to allow me through to the stage. I paused to grab Maeve’s hand and squeeze it tightly. I cradled the back of her head and planted a kiss atop her forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as I shakily released her from my grasp and allowed the other girls in the crowd to place a comforting hand on her shoulders as they quietly pulled her away from me. I walked up to the stage and slowly climbed the short flight of steps to then take my place just behind the glass bowl from which my sister’s name was drawn. I can’t believe I’m about to be shepherded to my untimely death because of a stupid glass bowl. I felt my hands getting clammy, and I held to the hem of my dress to keep them from shaking. Ms. Magenta smiled and stepped towards me, “And what is your name, dear?”

“Persephone Whitlock.” I stated.

“And you are…?”

“Her sister.”

“Her sister! Oh, well, of course you are!” she remarked, “Well, that was a very brave thing you just did, Persephone. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that this was a truly inspiring moment! Well done! And may the odds be ever in your favor.” she smiled brightly and turned towards the crowd. There were a few measly claps, but they quickly fell silent. “And now, let us draw our male tribute.” She stepped over to the glass bowl on her left and repeated the process. I stared blankly past the rows of people; only when she read the name was my trance broken, “Frederick Weasley.” A tall, redheaded boy emerged from the crowd. I stared as he made his way up to the podium. I recognized him from school. I didn’t know him well, but I knew he had a twin brother- George, I think- who’d lost an ear in a factory accident a few years prior, and was thus ineligible to compete in the Games, as his injury would be an unfair advantage to the other tributes. Apparently, he’d been checking the cogs underneath a broken machine when it somehow turned on and cut his left ear clean off. It was formally reported as an accident, but it’s been rumored that he did it on purpose. There were no witnesses, so no one can say for sure, but if it was intentional, I can’t say I blame him for doing it. There are very few ways you can get out of the games if you’re under 18- something as extreme as losing an ear would certainly fall under that category. I stared at the redhead as he took his place behind the other glass bowl. He was tall, at least 6 foot 4, and seemed to tower over my own 5 foot 10 frame. I’d always thought I was fairly tall for my age, and was used to surpassing most adults in height; but standing next to him, I felt like a child. His entire body was long and lean, but I could tell from the way his shirt clung to him that he was not just skin and bone. He had a well-structured face. Round brown eyes, thin lips, a prominent, romanesque nose; his jaw was clenched as he stared straight ahead and refused to look at me. Him and his brother were known for pulling pranks and cracking jokes at school- there was a strange, impish quality to his features that unintentionally revealed his penchant for mischief. Every inch of his cool, pale skin was covered in freckles. Despite his pallid complexion, his cheeks always seemed to have a slight blush to them that made everything about him appear bright and lively. However, at the present moment, his face had been drained of all colour, save for a rather sickly green tinge. No wonder he doesn’t want to look at me- poor kid looks like he’s about to puke. Ms. Magenta finally stepped forward, “Excellent! We now have our two lovely tributes! Both of whom will now be escorted into the Justice building to await further instructions; Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!” And with that, the Capitol’s sigil was once again displayed on the TVs, and its anthem blasted through the speakers. Suddenly, I felt four hands grab me by the arms and forcefully pull me backwards. I stumbled slightly, and looked up to see the two peacekeepers responsible. They continued to pull me across the stage before practically shoving me down the stairs and onto the cobblestone street. From the corner of my eye, I could see that my fellow tribute was receiving the same gentle treatment as they dragged- I’m sorry, escorted him- to the large, looming structure behind us. As they “escorted” me towards the building’s heavy brass doors, I looked back frantically, trying to spot my mother and sister. But the crowd had gotten rowdier, and they were all being jammed together as the peacekeepers continued to push them away from the stage. My breathing quickened, and I could feel the blood pumping through every vein in my body. When we reached the threshold, the brass doors opened to reveal a high-ceilinged marble hall, and a rush of cool air escaped them. So THIS is where all our air-conditioning goes, I thought to myself. Every sound echoed through the building’s marble interior. I craned my neck upwards and tried to take in every opulent detail as I was dragged down a hallway and shoved into a small room, where the peacekeepers finally released me from their vice grip. “Wait here,” one of them said. They both left and shut the door behind them. I massaged my sore upper arms. “You didn’t have to pull me so hard, you know!” I shouted at the door, “not like I was planning on going anywhere!”. I sighed and stepped back from the door. “Assholes,” I muttered to myself. I plopped down onto a green velvet armchair and examined my surroundings. The walls and ceilings were paneled in rich, mahogany wood. The square panels above me were covered in intricate carvings, complementing the elaborate crystal chandelier hanging in the center. While I assumed the floor was wood, it was hard to tell because of the heavy oriental rugs that adorned its surface. There were two large windows behind me, both framed by plush velvet curtains. They were the same emerald green as the chair, and were tied back with a thick, gold rope that had tassels on the end of it, so as to allow in natural light. There was not much furniture in the room aside from two armchairs- one of which I already occupied- a round, wooden coffee table between them, and two empty bookshelves inlaid in the wall on either side of the room. A thin blue vase containing a single white rose sat in the center of the coffee table. The smell of it was unnaturally overpowering. Something about it made me uneasy, so I carefully pushed it to the far side of the table and shifted away from it. I unconsciously started chewing on my lip. I couldn’t sit still. Sitting there shaking my leg, or playing with the hem of my dress, wasn’t helping. I let out a frustrated groan and jolted up from my seat. I continued to chew my lip as I restlessly paced back and forth across the room. The heavy rugs didn’t hide the creaking of the floorboards as I stomped across them. After what felt like hours, I heard the door creak open. I stopped in my tracks and ran to the door to greet my mother before she’d even entered the room. Her and my sister enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug which I eagerly returned. The peacekeeper standing behind them cleared his throat. We slowly let go of each other and turned to face him. “You have ten minutes to say goodbye- not a second more.” he said in a gruff voice. As my mother and sister stepped fully into the room, the peacekeeper roughly shut the door behind them and left.

END OF PART ONE

a/n: If you’ve made it this far, 1. Hi, I love you 2. Will I write more for this series? To quote John Mulaney, “Who’s to say?”.

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cherryblossomstars · 4 years

Text

III. Midnight (W. Ushijima)

Taken from my AO3 series of one-shots & reposted here

Pairing: Ushijima x F!Reader

Word count: 2,051

Genre: fluff/slight crack bc seijoh

Summary: Aoba Johsai's volleyball team has never been able to defeat the Great Ushiwaka of Shiratorizawa. Their manager, however? She can bring him to his knees in mere seconds.

Or, Ushijima Wakatoshi is helplessly in love with Seijoh's Ace's twin sister, and the Aoba Johsai VBC is not appreciative of it.

Previous | Next

"Go fish." Oikawa says with a straight face.

Matsukawa huffs and picks up a white card from the middle of the table, "just when I had Uno."

"Suck it up." Hanamaki smirks, "Eevee uses quick draw. Draw a card, Iwaizumi."

"No, because you activated my trap card." Hajime flips over a card that was on the table.

"That doesn't count!" Oikawa yells.

"Yes it does." Matsukawa defends.

"No, it doesn't." Hanamaki cuts in, trying to avoid losing.

"What does the card czar say?" Oikawa turns to look at you.

You hold cards from Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh, Uno, Cards Against Humanity and a regular deck of playing cards. You're not sure what you're playing right now, but the upcoming third years seem to have played this before, seeing as they don't have a lick of confusion written on their faces. Next to the large deck in the middle of the table sits a cup of dice. "Er... Makki and Hajime roll a, um, D6 for initiative. Highest number goes first, so, um, their card will be the affective one."

The group around you nods. Makki rolls a 3, then Hajime follows up with a 6. Makki groans in defeat.

You nearly sigh in relief, you weren't sure if what you said was even close to what you were supposed to do.

The summer break of your second year in highschool, all the second years had decided to go together on a volleyball summer camp in Tokyo. Naturally, they convinced you to tag along as well. The camp was split between age groups, middle school and highschool were grouped together and being taught by adults, while elementary was being taught by adults as well as teenagers. The camp had no need of volleyball managers, so you had submitted an application to be part of the staff supervising and teaching the elementary kids.

Because of your decision to be part of staff, you were required to go to the camp at least a week early to get the basics of both teaching and safety for the camp. There, you found out that because the amount of people coming to this summer's volleyball camp was much more than they normally had, middle school and highschool would be separated this year and they needed extra hands for the middle school division. You had volunteered, meaning you would be supervising both middle school and elementary.

Later, you found out they were getting an extra influx of campers because they had decided to make the camp co-ed. You grumbled about it when you found out the camp was co-ed. You must not have seen the option when you signed up online, likely because Oikawa had been pestering you to bump a ball around with him while you applied. Stupid Oikawa.

It was only the third day of camp (and your tenth day of being there), but you were already so very tired and excited to leave. The camp itself would last three full weeks. Afterwards, you would be forced to stay behind an extra few hours to help clean the school that had allowed the camp to use their campus. Luckily, you managed to rope your fellow second years into staying behind with you to help clean up as well. Matsukawa owed you one for spraining your wrist the month before (even though it was an accident, you still successfully guilt tripped him), Matsukawa had asked Hanamaki to stay behind as well, Hajime had given you a shrug and simply stated "wherever you go, I go", and Oikawa had given into peer pressure.

You rarely got breaks during the day and practically only saw your classmates at night after the elementary and middle school's curfew. Highschool did not have an assigned curfew, which is why you were sat on the floor in front of a coffee table in the common room of some other school's dormitory with your classmates playing an abomination of a card game while three of your underclassmen (which surprisingly included Kyotani) sat on the couches around you.

It was already surprising to see Oikawa up late since he was so strict with himself when it came to his schedule (with the exception of studying other teams' past games before tournaments), but what was really shocking to you was seeing your boyfriend and his best friend come down the stairs at 12am.

It seems your classmates already knew he was here, judging by the lack of shock from everyone around you. The saltiness that immediately began to radiate from your friends and fill the atmosphere, however, was practically tangible.

"Wakatoshi! What are you doing here?" You jumped from your position on the floor to walk alongside him and Tendou, heading for the kitchen.

"Tendou wanted a snack." He shrugs.

"A little birdie told me that the kitchens stock midnight snacks after the middle and lower school's curfew!" Tendou practically bounced into the kitchen, opening up all of the cabinets and digging through the pantry to find a snack suitable to his taste.

Your boyfriend and you stood next to the kitchen island, waiting for him. "No, Toshi, I meant here. At camp. I didn't know you were coming."

"I tried to call you to tell you, but you never answered so I left a text."

"You did?" You tilted your head.

"He did!" Tendou chirped, his head poking around in the fridge, "he was even complaining about how you weren't answering. He got all worried cause his precious little girlfriend wasn't answering her phone~"

"When?" You asked.

He is quiet in thought for a moment. "Last week."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to tell you I was coming here. The club kinda convinced me to come with them last minute, right before the application deadline." You explained.

"It's pretty cool you're here with us, though." Tendou began to empty out the freezer, looking for something. "Oh! You know what, Iwa-chan?"

You hum, "what?"

"I don't think you've met little Kenjiro yet, right?" Tendou asks, tossing a bag of frozen vegetables onto the countertop.

"Kenjiro...?" You think for a moment.

Ushijima slips an arm around your waist. "His last name is Shirabu."

"Hmm... Nope. Never met him." You confirm.

"He's our brand new up and coming setter. He'll be a second year when the school year starts, but he's already pretty good, right Wakatoshi?"

The man next to you nods, "he's very competent. He's here at the camp, too."

Tendou grumbles, "there's no ice cream sandwiches." He turns to you, "Iwa-chan! How come the guys upstairs had ice cream sandwiches? I can't find them anywhere!"

You let out a light laugh, "that's what you were looking for, Satori?" You remove yourself from your boyfriend's side and begin to head towards a freezer with a lock on it.

Tendou nods eagerly, "yep. Why's that got a lock on it?"

You fish out your lanyard from your pajama's pocket and attempt to find the right key out of all the keys you were given. "Because there are certain snacks only meant for the staff. The camp wants you guys eating as healthy as possible while you're here, even when it comes to snacks. It's why there's pretty much only protein bars in the pantry and fruits in the fridge."

"You have a key?" Ushijima asks from behind you.

You finally find the right key and pop open the fridge, "chocolate?" You ask. When you hear Tendou confirm it, you toss an ice cream sandwich his way. "Want a popsicle, Toshi?" You close and lock the freezer when he shakes his head no. "Yeah, I've got a key. I'm part of the staff. I gave my Seijoh boys some ice cream and popsicles earlier too. Oh, but make sure no one knows I gave you guys these."

"Oh, you're part of staff, huh." Tendou nods in understanding.

"That must be why I haven't seen you around the campus." Ushijima adds.

"Yup. I'm part of the middle school and elementary staff, so I don't see highschool a lot except for after curfew. And since I'm so busy with them, I pretty much never check my phone. Sorry about that, honey." You take your spot next to Ushijima's side once again and get onto your tippy toes press a kiss to his cheek.

Tendou almost visibly cringes, "I'm gonna go upstairs before I get any more uncomfortable. See you in our room, Wakatoshi-kun!" And with that, he leaves the kitchen happily munching on his ice cream, leaving you and your boyfriend alone.

Almost immediately, Ushijima's arms snake around your waist and he rests his forehead against yours. "You worried me."

"I'm sorry." You press another kiss onto his cheek and wrap your arms loosely around his neck.

He hums, "what are you doing after camp ends? My family wants to see you again."

"Sorry, my love. After camp I'm going to Sapporo with Oikawa."

He freezes, "just Oikawa?"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have phrased it like that." You bite back the urge to laugh at his reaction, "I'm going to Sapporo with my family and Oikawa's family. We go every Summer, it's tradition. My uncle and my aunt live up in Sapporo, so we usually stay until the last week of vacation. Nowadays, though, the adults and Takeru usually leave early for work, so me, Hajime, and Oikawa get left alone, anyway."

"I see. That sounds fun."

"Yeah. It is. I look forward to it every year. I'm sorry I won't get to visit your family, though."

"They will understand. It's nothing to worry about."

"Can I postpone the visit until the last week of summer? We can all go to the festival together." You hop onto sit on the island's countertop and pull Ushijima to stand between your legs.

He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his hair lightly scratching you. "Yes, that sounds like fun. My cousins missed you."

"Pfft. Which ones? You have so, so, so many." And he did. His extended family may as well have extended to the entire country of Japan. When you had gone to visit his family during the holidays, there were so many people at his house it was hard to move around. And even then, he had told you that that was only a few of his relatives.

"Hayato missed you very much." He huffed.

Despite trying not to laugh out loud, your body betrayed you when you began to shake from your attempts at stopping yourself. Hayato, who was four when you last saw him, had claimed that he would steal you away from Ushijima and be the one to marry you. Immediately following that, another one of Ushijima's younger cousins had said she had already claimed you to be her playmate for life, so you would be unable to marry either little Hayato or Ushijima. "Your family is certainly a fun one."

"I'm glad you get along with them, but I won't be able to have you to myself at any point during the Summer."

"My first day back. I'll be all yours. I promise."

"You promise?"

"All yours, my darling love." You lean your head against his.

This feeling, being wrapped in the arms of the love of your life in the middle of the night, was pure bliss. The only accompanying noises were the muffled shouts of your best friends from the other room, and the thrumming of the kitchen appliances around you. And still, despite the incredibly unromantic environment, you couldn't help but feel yourself fall for the man in your arms even more. Yes, perhaps you were too young to be in love. Sure, highschool relationships won't always last. But this feeling was one you wanted to savor, and you were not planning on letting him go any time soon.

This is not a fairytale life. Ushijima certainly had the grace and looks of a Prince Charming, but, unlike in the storybooks, whether or not the clock strikes twelve would not matter. You would not run away and you would not be leaving a shoe at the steps. Instead, you would continue to rest in the arms of the man you love. And sure, there would be no huge, elaborate castle or jewels tossed your way, but this was more than enough.

Fin.

#Ushijima x Reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #shiratorizawa x reader #aoba johsai x reader

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Text

Sunshine

Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nudity, Violence, Sexual harassment

Summary: Your dear friend Ari had taken you for missions. You were in the army and he needed someone like you. But he didn’t know how confident and crazy you were when you hung around The Red Sea Diving Resort.

Authors Note: Ari Levinson is one of my favorite characters because it just gave me the 16 year old Chris Evans vibe with the hair. He needs to just leave it like that for a year. I love it so much.

Storyline is a bit off, not exactly how the movie plays, some parts were added to make the story

~~~~~~~~

“I need you,” He repeats, the sound of liquid began to pour inside a cup. “You don’t need me, you have-what? Sammy? Jake? Max? Who else did you say, Grace?”

“Rachel, that wasn’t even close-”

“Ah, whatever, I’m on my third glass here, give me a break,” Y/N sat down in front of him on the couch, holding the glass of liquor in her hand. She lifts the glass up to her lips, “You don’t need me.”

“I need you more than you know.”

Y/N drops the glass, her face scrunches to the burn down her throat, “How’s your wife? Uh... God... Was it... Mara?”

“Sarah,” Ari replied. Yes, Sarah hadn’t called him in a while. His daughter Maya was such a quiet one but he managed to tell her good stories, she really didn’t listen. “We’re having some difficulties-Can you just move on from the subject-”

Y/N lifts her hands up, “All right, Ari. All right.” Her dog comes up and sits beside her. Her hand gently rubs the canine’s forehead. “How long do we have for this mission?”

“As much time as we need. All we got to do is sneak the refugees out to the ocean sidelines.” Y/N downs the rest of her drink. “Sounds a bit risky, don’t you think? You know how those men with guns don’t really show mercy. I’ve seen it. Guns are no games until you mess with the wrong people.”

“We’re all gonna get them out of there, every single one.” Y/N sighs to his response and looks down at her dog. Gently smiling she pets him again, “Guess mama has to leave, bud.” Y/N turns back to Ari and nods.

“All right, I’m in.”

A few missions successfully has been paid off. Tonight, there was gonna be another mission, Y/N heard about another briefing and met the group in the back of the kitchen.

“What’s the plan tonight, lady and gentlemen?” She asked, the men looked at her before trailing their eyes down. Y/N watched them stare at her bikini top and jean shorts, her skin tone glistened either in sweat or water. Ari was the first to remove his eyes to focus back to the group.

“Tonight we’re gonna do the same thing similar to the others. Y/N and Max are on the look out, Sam, Rachel, Jake and I both safely and quietly take the refugees into the trucks.” The group nods.

“After we have them situated, we drive over the hill, Y/N and Max get into their truck then we leave.” Y/N nods. “All right, sounds like a plan.” Y/N walks off. They all stop when they hear loud trucks moving in. “Is it them?” Rachel asked Ari, he shakes his head.

“They shouldn’t.”

“I mean after last time, you crazy son of a bitch ram through their gate. You’re lucky it’s a bus,” Y/N says. Sam pushes by, “What?” Everyone goes out the entrance to see a large bus pull up and the doors open to people. “What the hell is this?” Jake asked, people walk up to Ari. “Are you the manager of this hotel?” The man asked.

Ari looks over to his group and nods, “Yeah,” Ari holds his hand out, “I’m Guy Thomas.” The man shakes his hand and smiles. If they’re willing to take over an abandoned hotel, they better make it one. The people looked around the area as Y/N walks up to Ari,placing her hands on her hips. “I guess we’re in business. We can’t do the mission tonight if we have people touring now.”

Ari sighs, “Then we need to make them comfortable.”

The Operation Brothers were helping the people into their rooms, some even relaxed outside the hotel. Y/N enjoyed every single of it. Y/N was part of the Michlen Star restaurant, becoming one of the hottest hostess to the visitors. Ari would get that some kind of star rating that Y/N was just beyond the most attractive hostess everyone’s seen.

Glad he didn’t see her with anyone.

Ari had the missions set on two different days each night. Rachel offered to do some yoga classes, sometimes Ari would watch them and see Y/N do some of the poses. Once in a while, she’d do push-ups in that room after their classes.

Being a soldier in the army, she clearly didn’t stop doing jumping jacks, sit ups and push ups. It impressed him really. The group would get together at night, laugh after a good day of satisfied customers. Missions were a success.

The next morning, Ari slipped on his cargo shorts and made himself a cup of coffee. Getting his feet into the sand, he watched the customers enjoy their time in the sun.

Including Y/N who laid herself on a towel, sun bathing.

“Ari!” The man turns his head to the boys under the awning. Walking over to them, he nods at them. Sam was leaning on the wall while Max and Jake were looking out t the beach. “Anything new?” Max asked, Ari looks out the archway to see the people jump into the water.

“Just some happy people.”

Sam smiles, “We’re all happy for getting a view like this.” All four of the boys look over to Y/N, back laid on the towel, her chest glistening under the sun. Shades covering her eyes. Wearing a two-piece bikini, the boys would all love to rip that off her.

Ari takes a sip of his coffee, drawing his eyes away. “Why did you even bring her? She’s just a distraction to us,” Jake says. They watched her turn her body, laying on her stomach, ass fully out.

They saw her lift up her shades towards them, causing all four of them to look away. She smiled, “You wanna keep staring or do you wanna put some sunscreen on me?” She called to them. Jake smiled, rubbing his hands together. He takes a step but stops when Y/N spoke.

“I meant Ari,” Y/N says. Jake retracts his foot and he looks at Ari in disbelief including his other friends. Jake throws his arms up in defeat, “Why do you got to do us like that, man?”

Ari sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. “I can’t wait all day, Levinson.” Ari hands his cup to Sam and walks over to her. She still laid down as she lifts the bottle up to him. Getting onto his knees, he takes it. “You know how to rub a girl down?” She asked.

Ari looks away from her body, staring out the ocean. “Not sure what you mean by that, Y/N.” He squeezes the bottle and gets the white paste into his hands. Rubbing his large hands together, he reaches down to her shoulders.

She flinched under his hands as he gently rubbed her shoulder than her shoulder blades. “You’re not rubbing...”

“I am-”

“More pressure, you’re not cheating on Sarah if she has papers for you.” Ari sighs and adds more pressure fulling giving her a massage, he tenses at his wife’s name. “Much better...” She hums. “How do you know about that?” He asked.

Y/N turns her head to the side, “I know when I see it behind a man’s eye. She was a good woman.” His fingers tweak the string of her bikini bra and went to her back, reaching lower to where he met her butt.

“You want to add some on my ass?” She asked, Ari looks down at her and she laughs. “I’m kidding...” Ari goes back to rubbing the white streaks, rubbing it all in till every sun lotion was rubbed in good.

Every now and then, she’d moan under his touch.

He’d ignore it and just pulled away. “Okay.” Ari stands up and heads back to the boys who were all completely jealous. Once he met them, Max taps his shoulder. “Hm?” Ari hums, Sam points to the boys gazes and Ari turned his to see Y/N stand up, reaching behind to untie her bra strap. “What are you doing?” Jake calls.

“I’m gonna skinny dip,” She stands up, her back turns to them and they see her bikini bra drop at her feet. She looks over her shoulder, “Feel free to join me, boys.” Y/N then hooks her thumbs on her bottoms and rips them down.

They get a good look at her ass, all smiling at the view. “You sure she’s a soldier? And not some model,” Jake says.

Ari watched her body sink into the water before she turns to them, the water half way up and they finally saw her chest. “Eyes up here, boys!” She called. She dips fully into the water and swims above the surface.

Ari shook his head. “Y/N is one unique person, that’s why she’s on our team,” Ari says. They leave her in the ocean enjoying the waters as she relax. Ari needed to get his mind off of Y/N and just figure out the next mission. It’s just Y/N being herself.

A lot more missions came after that, Ari’s team were almost caught by the men with guns. Letting the refugees go across ocean, the team fled the area and went back to the hotel.

“That was close,” Max says, Sam bursts in, “We almost put 50 people in danger,” Sam said. Ari followed the two who argued in the lobby. Y/N looks at Ari before heading out the other way to go to her room. Ari wanted to ignore all arguments about this mission. Yes, they almost got caught. Trucks moved in and the boats left but they reached the hotel in time without getting caught.

Ari left the two shouting.

30 minutes passed and Ari was doing his push-ups on the lobby desk, puffing exhales as he lifted himself up and down. The loud sounds of trucks triggered his halt and he looked up.

He immediately panicked when trucks of men pulled up to the hotel. Not them again.

Ari jumps off the desk while the other boys stood behind him. “What are they doing here now?” Max asked.

The man named Col. Abdel Ahmed, the leader that watched them, they even caught the refugees leaving. His team came last time to check their trucks and to find them empty. Ahmed walks up to the group with a smile. “So good to see my friends once again. You busy?” He asked, his men behind him held their guns to their chests.

Ari glanced back up to Abdel, “Sadly, no,” He replies. Abdel laughs, “How about dinner? We can get to know each other. After all, we’ve been seeing a lot of people leaving that town.”

“Well, we can have dinner if you’re all starving,” Ari says. The man nods.

The Operation Brothers sat at the table with Abdel and his men with guns. They even surrounded the hotel, keeping an eye out for refugees being sneaked out. “We’ve been having refugees being snuck out at night. You’ve heard of that?”

Ari shrugs, “I’m afraid I don’t understand. We just work at this hotel, mostly tourists from the US come and go.” Abdel nods. “A good hotel. Might consider a 5 star,” He laughs.

The whole table managed to laugh but Abdel stops his laughter when he spots a woman walk in. “Ah...” Abdel says, he looks at Y/N. She was wearing a short shirt that showed her belly with jean shorts as well.

Ari would kill her for that outfit at a bad time. Not a time to wear that.

“You,” Abdel says, Y/N looks at him, he gestures her over, “Come here.” Y/N looks at Ari who just stared at her. Do not refuse. The longer she stood there, his guard grabs her arm and pushes her into Abdel’s lap.

“Hey...” Ari says, holding his hand up, Rachel watched as Abdel’s hand lands on Y/N’s hip. Abdel admired her from behind, his hand caressing her skin. He could smell the fresh smell of her perfume. “She’s beautiful. Not like many women here,” He laughs.

“Enough, let her go,” Ari said.

Abdel continues to laugh till Ari reached his limit once he spot Adbel’s hand trail up to her chest. Ari takes a knife and stands up, “I said that’s enough!” Abdel stands up with Y/N and his men all hold their guns at Ari.

Holding Y/N by her arm, he laughs, “You really want to do that, Thomas? You with these men?” Ari glanced at the men behind him. It’s either die or let them take her. “Let her go.”

Abdel practically throws Y/N away from him and Rachel instantly catches her in her arms. Abdel walks up to Ari, that smile never leaving the Colonel’s lips. Ari may have made a mistake but he knew it was the right thing to do.

Abdel takes Ari’s wrist and rips the knife away and swung towards his face adding a kick to Ari’s gut causing the man to fall on his knees coughing.

“Let’s go,” Abdel says, he looks back at the group, “I’ve lost my appetite. Have a good evening,” The man retreat to their vans and they rode off, Y/N jumping out of Rachel’s arms, she kneels in front of Ari on the ground.

“Ari...” She helped him up and sat him down, brushing the strands of his dark brown locks to look at his face. Ari had a cut on his cheek.

Y/N caresses it as he looks at her with a grin, “If you’re all gonna say that was a shitty idea, I know,” He asked, knowing that everyone in the room knew that was irrational to do in some parts. For the sake of their missions and fake IDs.

“You did the right thing, Ari,” Rachel said.

“Yeah, you practically went Alpha on a fox who mistakenly took your omega for another,” Max jokes, Y/N brushed the falling strands again and placed her hand on his knee. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

The woman had taken Ari to her own room, Sam got her some supplies to clean up the small cuts on his cheek. “Y/N, really I’m fine,” Ari tries to push her hand away before reaching for his face. Y/N pulls her hand away and sighs.

“All right, just let me do something with it, okay?” Ari sighs up at her, his brown locks falling over his cheek. Y/N puts down the rag and reaches for his locks. Brushing it away to see his blue orbs.

She leans in and Ari froze in place as she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, she looked at him, “That was for what you did back there.” Ari grins softly. Yes, maybe the two have intimate situations during this whole mission thing but Ari thought she was way out of his league.

She deserved more than a guy that has everyone to follow him like dogs. He seem to get lost in her eyes, the moonlight was shining through the carved wooden window in her room with the dim light by her bed.

He pulled her in a kiss. This had her removed off her seat as she instantly sat in his lap. His hands on the small of her back as she dragged her fingers through his hair. It didn’t feel wrong to him. Sarah would’ve wanted them both to have a good life, she got the papers and so he felt that chain snap.

His hands drag down to her jean shorts.

Y/N pulls away breathless, keeping her forehead on his. The two pant on each other’s lips, loving the heat fan their lips as they looked at each other in want.

“I think you know where this is going, Ari.”

“Yeah. And I don’t think I can’t hold it back any longer since this whole damn mission thing. I shouldn’t have brought you with us,” He says, Y/N smiles. “You couldn’t leave your best friend behind.”

“Not my best girl, I couldn’t,” He kisses her again and stands up with her wrapped around him as he hovers over her in the bed. “I know some other way to rub a girl down.” Y/N moaned at that with a grin.

~~~~~~

Bleh, it’s whatever. I’m too scared to do sexual stuff yet, I’m not good enough to do it.

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