#If it doesn’t get fixed soon I might combust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skinnyducky · 3 years

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excuse me, i love you // v.h.

requested by @thatmultifandomlovingmf

a/n i hope this lives up to your expectation ! i had an idea prior to writing this and i thought it would be nice to sort of mingle the two ! sorry, if this wasn’t what you wanted ! and also same, i still don’t know my ff terms that well either :D

Word Count: 1535, edited

WARNING: fluff, language, fluff.. and more fluff.

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Vinnie and you were chilling in his room, lying on his bed. Well, at least he was chilling. You were cuddled into his side and fast asleep—college will do that to you. He took this chance to admire you. He truly loved everything about you, and it made him think: how was he so fortunate to have someone like you? Sure, you’d been best friends for a long time, but that didn’t mean anything—at least to him it didn’t. This thought danced around in his mind, and he recalled back to the event that started your relationship…

Two years ago…

It was a Friday night and Vinnie was sitting in his room, scrolling through Instagram and liking whatever random photos popped up on his feed. This wasn’t how he typically spent his Friday nights. Normally he’d be with his best friend, you. However, due to a series of unfortunate events—aka Jackson Dougland asking you out on a date—he was left to his own devices.

As he sat at the edge of his bed, he wandered why him? What made Jackson Dougland so great that you actually entertained going on a date with him? He was just your average dimwit who cared more about his sport achievements than anything else. You deserved better than someone who was just going to use you as a trophy; you deserved Vinnie—or at least that’s what he thought.

Vinnie was unsure of when and why he started to develop a crush on you. Maybe it was because you’re the only girl who really understood him, maybe it was because you’ve been best friends for years, or it could be from the fact that you appeared in every one of his dreams—and that includes the nightmares with Elmo. There was just something about you that made his love for you shift from platonic to romantic, and he had no clue why. He couldn’t tell you that though. For one, it’d be embarrassing if you rejected him. And two, he couldn’t bare to risk your friendship. So, he thought it’d be better to conceal his feelings than to let them pour out.

As he mindlessly stared at his phone, he heard a slight tap at the window. He fell into confusion as he looked over to see nothing there. Shrugging it off, he went back to looking at the small screen in his hands, but once again, there was a tap at the window.

“What the hell?” Vinnie muttered to himself, getting up and going to check out the ruckus. He opened the window and stuck his head out, finding no sign of where the tapping could’ve come from. That was until he was hit in the face with a pebble.

“OUCH, dammit!” He shouted as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. He looked down to see who the culprit was, only to find you standing there. “Y/n? What the hell?”

“Sorry,” you sighed. Vinnie noticed something different about your demeanor. Normally you were happy and cheery, but right now you were the complete opposite, from the slight frown on your face to your hunched stature.

“Can I come in?”

Vinnie nodded and rushed downstairs to open the door for you. Letting you in, he led the two of you back upstairs and into his room. Once you were inside, he shut the door and watched as you plopped down face-first on his bed.

“What’re you doing here?” Vinnie asked, leaning against the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with Dougland?”

You let out a groan and sat up, looking your best friend in the eye. “I was, but then I found out he had other motives.”

“What do you mean by ‘other motives’?”

“He didn’t really wanna go out with me. He was just using me for sex.” You said, fiddling with your thumbs. “I was just another notch on his belt; another girl he could brag about getting with to his buddies.”

Vinnie frowned as he sat next to you. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Completely nothing.”

“I thought he was so sweet. He went on and on about how we were gonna go to homecoming together, and that he wanted to spend the rest of high school with me. But come to find out, it was nothing but lies.”

“I know, I know.” Vinnie sighed. He hated seeing you down, especially in this instance. You deserved nothing but complete happiness, and the fact that someone came along and ruined that for you, it pained him. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Maybe I do,” You replied, your voice breaking. “Maybe this was a sign that love isn’t for me.”

Vinnie shook his head as he looked at you. “Now, Y/n.”

You groaned, “It’s the truth. Think about it, no guy has ever shown interest in me before, and if they have, they’re either like Jackson or they’re in middle school.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“No, it’s not. I’m just gonna have to face the facts: I’m meant to be alone.”

“Y/n-“

“I should’ve known better.”

“Y/n-“

“Nobody would ever want me.”

Vinnie growled, getting up from beside you. “There are people who want you, Y/n! You’re just too blind to see it!”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, and who might that be? And if you say one of your baseball boys, I swear to god-“

“Me, Y/n…it’s me.”

You finally stopped your yapping and sat there in shock. Vinnie felt at peace, glad that he was able to get you to calm down. However, that peace was disrupted once he soon realized what he had said. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled to himself, although it was loud enough for you to hear.

“What’d you just say?”

“Oh shit.” He repeated, though he knew what you were referring to.

“Not that, idiot, what you said before that.”

He sighed, sitting back down. “Fine. I said that I want you. And before you go off the rails, I truly meant what I said. I don’t know when I started having feelings for you, but I do know that they’re strong. I get that we’ve been best friends for a while and it’s weird, but I just can’t help the way I feel for you.”

“Vinnie, I-“

“I completely understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect you to.”

“Vin-“

“Just promise me that we can still be friends. I don’t know what I’d do without-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you smashed your lips against his. He was taken aback; so many thoughts were roaming around in his head which was nearly on the verge of combusting. When you pulled back, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a good minute.

“Wow.” He breathed, causing you to laugh. “I was not expecting that.”

“I could tell.” You grinned. “Do you really mean all of that…all of what you said?”

He nodded. “Of course, I do, Y/n. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. I care about you, and it sucks to hear you go on and on about not finding someone when I’m right here, someone who wants to be with you for you and not for your body or anything. I love you, like so fucking much.”

A smile crept onto your face as your hands found their way to the back of Vinnie’s neck. “You are absolutely too pure for this world, Vin.”

The boy laughed keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “I honestly don’t know what to say. No one has ever said something that sweet and meaningful to me. Maybe it’s because you’re my best friend but hearing it from you feels ten times better.” You smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Vinnie. The fact that I mean that much to you, it’s sweet.”

“This feels like a friendzone speech.” Vinnie said as his shoulders fell.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was planning on friendzoning you.” You chuckled, stroking his head. “I really wanna try this out.”

“You mean like…you for real wanna go out? This isn’t for play-play?”

“Yeah. I feel like we’ve always been a couple. It just took some maturing, a moment of weakness, and one of us to say something for us to figure it out. And now, since we’ve figured it out…I think we should try and see where it goes.”

Vinnie gulped, “But what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t wanna lose you, Y/n.”

“And you won’t.” You reassured. “We’ve been in each other’s lives far to long to just walk out. I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”

“If that’s the case, then I guess all that’s left to ask is…Y/n, do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes, Vinnie. I would love to go out with you.”

Flashback over…

As the scene left Vinnie’s head, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years ago, he would’ve never thought being with you would be possible. But here he was together with you. He had all he could ask for.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

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“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner.

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back.

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared.

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed.

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen.

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat.

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together.

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout.

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low.

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp.

“Pretty good now,” he said softly.

“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest.

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ.

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand.

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen.

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ.

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head.

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts.

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking.

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg.

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves.

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said.

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said.

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss.

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said.

“Thank you for today,” he said softly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen series #jensen x reader #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic

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genshin-latte · 3 years

Note

Childe propaganda anon here! While it is expected that I request content for my clown, after reading the winter holiday prompts I would like to request a scenario for adventurer reader and diluc using the prompt "Come here, you're freezing". Maybe winter has fully set in, and the Dawn Winery is covered in snow, and the reader swings by from one of their travels, definitely underdressed for the weather change and Diluc offers them a way or a place to warm up. I just suddenly wanted soft cute winter vibes w Diluc 🥺💖💖💖

Lmao #2 was somehow the most requested but where’s the surprise. Also I put off posting this till my birthday, it’s the 21st here alr so yay! Smol birthday present for myself too 😳👉👈 Im legal I can write n$fw now

P.S they r both stupid

Prompt #2 : “Come here, you’re freezing.”

Pairing : Diluc x gn! Reader

Word count : 1,210 words

Warning : mildly suggestive

It was a little after dark, the air was piercing cold and the streets were dark except for the few dim lights. Your dragged yourself through the snow, your ragged breaths quickly turning into misty clouds. You shivered as you rubbed your hands together, attempting to create some heat.

You had planned to return earlier, but that commission took way longer than you had expected. By the time you were done the sun had set and you wouldn’t have enough time to get back to the city. Furthermore you had not expected for it to snow in the middle of your trip. So you headed to the closest place you could think of, the winery.

Snow covered the winery’s grounds as they settled on the wooden crates sitting just outside the entrance, the usually green grass was buried in white, the roofs were pure white, it was white as far as the eyes can see. The colourful fairy lights hanging on the building’s walls stood out compared to the rest of the scenery. You see a grass ring with the words ‘merry christmas’, hanging on the front door.

The sight made you smile, it was rather surprising. You hadn’t expected Diluc as the type to enjoy Christmas to the point he’d decorate the place. If anything, you had thought he’d despise the holiday, or perhaps it was the maids who decided to bring in the christmas spirits. Either way, it was a rather refreshing view.

The click of the wooden door brought you back to the present, the man from your thoughts suddenly standing infront of you. His usually tied hair falls loose to his waist, he was wearing an extra coat, and you notice that his gloves seem to be thicker than usual. It seems like he was about to head out.

“What are you doing out here?” He eyes your shivering form. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you try to shoo away the cold.

“Y-yeah... you see...” you trailed off, laughing nervously in the process. He only sighed, stopping your explanation

“Come inside.” He held the door open just enough for you to slip in.

“I-I thought you w-were heading out?” Your words trembled along with your body. He looks at you with his usual deadpanned expression “and leave you to freeze?”.

“Uhm. I-I guess?” You felt rather bad having to interrupt his plans, you know how he dislikes having them ruined. “Thank you.” You whispered as you took his offer, stepping inside the warm room.

He gives you a small nod, and perhaps it was just you but you could’ve sworn you saw his expression soften. You see him mouth something to his butler before leading you to the guest room.

“Achoo!” that was the third time you sneezed. You sat on his sofa across the fireplace, wrapped with layers of blanket, attempting to take a sip on the hot chocolate he had prepared for you.

You heard him sigh, he stood from his seat and moved beside you. You immediately felt warmer, perhaps it was because of his vision but you want nothing more than to snuggle him so you can feel more of his warmth.

As if he could read your thoughts, he said, “Come here, you’re freezing.”

“Huh?” You looked at him in confusion. Was he? Is he? If it wasn’t for the cold, your mind —you heart— would have combusted. You shifted closer anyway, awkwardly laying your head on his shoulder.

“Like this?” You hear his dissatisfied grunt as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. With your head resting on his chest, and both his arms around you, you could feel nothing but the rising heat on your face and your heart that seemed to beat twice, no three times faster.

It almost overlapped with his, but you could hear it, his heart beat was no more steady than yours. Was he nervous? You shifted your eyes to him. His gaze was locked on the window, perhaps he was watching the snow fall, or perhaps he just couldn’t face you.

The light blush on his cheeks was subtle, even more so in the dim light of the fireplace but it’s there, your eyes couldn’t have lied. You let out a little laugh, he was too cute for your liking. The way he averts his eyes and the way his lips would turn into a firm line, the things he does to hide the intense emotions he feels, it’s so endearing. You could kiss him right there, perhaps, you could.

“Hey.” Your voice might have cracked out of nervousness but that’s the least thing you’re worried about.

He turns to you, you didn’t give him a moment to spare and pulled at his shirt, pressing your lips against his. You pulled back, attempting to see his reaction though you didn’t get the chance to do so. He leaned in further as you move back, placing a hand on the back of your head to push you back for another kiss.

Things escalated faster than you would expect, the more you tried to pull back the more he’d deepen the kiss. His kisses soon turned needy, aggressive. In less than he minute, you had him pinning you against the sofa, your arms around his neck and legs tangled together.

“Mhm.. Diluc?” A small moan left your lips, as he started trailing kisses down your jawline, nipping at the junction of your neck. You might have started it but you no longer had any idea what was happening.

Hearing a knock, you shifted your eyes towards the door, whilst your companion had pretended to ignore it. He saw your attention was no longer on him, placing a thumb on your chin he caught your lips once again. Tongue pushing past clenched teeth, you couldn’t help but melt into him.

“Master Diluc?” You recognized that voice, it was his butler, he must have told him to come earlier.

He groaned, upset to have been interrupted. He stood up, fixing his shirt before approaching the door. You were frazzled. Perhaps the intrusion was what you needed to catch your breath.

You see the butler peek in through the gap of the door before the redhead shut it close, a tray of cookies in hand. He placed the cookies on the table before settling himself beside you, sighing in frustration.

It was fine during the heat of the moment, but now, embarrassment was starting to get to him. Well, you were the one who initiated it but he doesn’t understand what exactly you had meant by that.

“Sorry.” You coughed out, sensing that he must have been uncomfortable. You didn’t even dare to meet his eyes.

His brows furrowed as he looked at you, he didn’t mean to make you upset. He just... doesn’t know how much further you would’ve let him go. He doesn’t, he never wants to hurt you.

“Do you mind...?” You felt his hand brush against your thigh. You finally looked at him, biting your lip out of nervousness. The gesture only made his impatience grow. He wanted nothing more than to ravor you.

You let out a timid smile at his gesture,

“No, not at all.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact diluc #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin x reader #diluc #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin diluc x reader #genshin impact scenarios #cup of latte #christmas in teyvat

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tacticaldiary · 3 years

Text

Misunderstanding

Pairing: Reader x Tamaki Amajiki

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

She had been pining over him for years. He had been pining over her for years. Love makes people do strange things, like ignore the other or try to convince your friends that you, in fact, do not like the person you love.

Misunderstandings are bound to happen

Masterlist

There are many things that make Tamaki’s anxiety spike. Public speaking, drawing attention to himself, messing up. Y/N also fell into this category.

Y/N. Every time he saw her, he had the same reaction. His stomach fluttered nervously and although he loved butterflies this type of fluttering felt like that one time he accidentally manifested wings when he was 7, and proceeded to lose control of them and nearly fall off the monkey bars.

His mind went blank and his hands started to shake at the thought of talking to her. The prospect of actually talking to her alone, without Mirio or Nejire was terrifying, let alone actually confessing his feelings.

He knows that he probably shouldn’t be actively avoiding being alone with Y/N, but he couldn’t help it. He panicked, not knowing what to do, and usually ends up mankind an excuse to leave.

He feels like he might just combust at the thought of them being more than friends...in a good way, of course.

“Just do it! I’m telling you she feels the same way!” Nejire exclaims, standing next to the seat Tamaki was sitting in, hand on her hip.

“You don’t know what you're talking about.” He says in his usual quiet voice. His face is a light red as he denies the fact that he has a crush.

“So you don’t like Y/N?” Mirio chimes in next to his friend.

Tamaki grimaces and shakes his head, eyes fixed to the edge of his desk. He couldn’t tell them. They would pry and he would never hear the end of it. As much as he loved his friends, they could be a little...overbearing at times.

“I don’t...like her. I don’t like her at all.” Mirio starts to protest, about to point out how very obvious his crush was. The fleeting glances, the way his face flamed up instantly, the way he stumbled and stuttered more than usual around her. He doesn’t get to say anything, before another voice speaks.

“What…?” Y/N’s voice is fragile and a little faint. The three of them turn around and Tamaki feels his stomach sink as he sees Y/N standing in the doorway, her hands gripping a small box. She looks rather upset. “I thought...” She trails off, realising that the three people are still staring at her. Clearing her throat, she takes a small breath, before managing a small smile, her eyes glassy.

“Sorry for interrupting. I’ll just...” She places the small box on the desk nearest to her, making eye contact with a frozen Tamaki. “That’s for you. I was going to say something with it but...It’s clear you don’t feel the same way.” Her voice chokes up at the end as she turns around and quickly walks out the door. The tears start falling as soon as she closes the door behind her.

She thought he liked her too. People had assured her that Tamaki felt the same way but...apparently not. After she had gathered up the courage to finally confess…

Tamaki only snaps out of it when Nejire waves a hand in front of his face. The moment he looks at the box, his thoughts spiral into a panic.

Had she heard him? No, that was stupid, she clearly heard him. She was crying wasn’t she? Oh God she was crying, he made her cry. He didn’t mean it! He doesn’t hate her at all, the exact opposite. Did she hate him now? He wouldn’t blame her-

“-aki...Tamaki!” Mirio squeezes his shoulder, brining his friend to look at him with a panicked expression.

“I-no, I didn’t mean...I messed up, I-I didn’t mean it, I like her but she-she-” He’s grips the edge of the desk tightly, eyes wide and thoughts running wild.

“Okay, stop. Hey-” Mirio kneels down in front of him, meeting his gaze. “-It’s going to be alright. You can fix this. Just breathe first.”

Tamaki forces himself to let go of the desk and clasps his hands together instead, letting his friends calm him down.

It’s late at night, and Y/N isn’t asleep. Curled up in her bed under the cover with a tear stained face, she stares idly at the ceiling. She still can’t believe she thought she could be with someone like Tamaki. He was kind hearted and soft-spoken and just...perfect. She must have been really blinded with awe to think she could have a chance with him. Of course things wouldn’t turn out her way.

He seemed to not want to be around her these days anyway. Y/N thinks about all the times he’s ignored her or left the room when they were alone. It hurt to think about.

She lays there until she hears soft knocking on her door. It was so quiet, she doubts she would have heard it if she hadn’t been silent.

Sniffing a little, she gets up slowly and walks over to the door. Opening it slowly ,her eyes widen as she sees a familiar mop of purple hair.

“..Tamaki?” She feels a pang of hurt, but ignores it, looking at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”

Tamaki had spent the past 4 hours building up the courage to go up Y/N’s room to fix things up. After multiple times of turning back around, here he was. The moment she opens the door, he can feel his heart speed up and those god-awful butterflies fill his stomach.

“Hey...Can-Can I come in?” He asks, eyes glued to the carpet next to her feet. He sees her shuffle aside and he hesitantly steps in the room. His gut twists nervously as he hears the door shut behind him. He was in Y/N’s room, about to talk to her...alone. He feels himself start to panic, but takes a deep breathe, forcing himself to relax.

“Did you need something?” Her voice jars him as it cuts through the silence. He looks up at her and immediately feels a wave of overwhelming guilt crash over him as he takes in her appearance.

“I-...about today-”

“It’s alright.” She manages a small, sad smile that makes Tamaki want to reach over and grab her, to make her smile properly. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to return my feelings, Tamaki-”

“I do!” He blurts out, his eyes widening as he slaps a hand over his mouth. He did it. He said it. Trembling slightly, he lowers his hand and breathes. “I didn’t mean...what I said.” He chances another look at her and finds her standing there with a look of disbelief.

“You...what?” She frowns a little. THis couldn’t be real, he made it clear that he didn’t like her. “If this is about the gift, you don’t have to feel guilty about it. I got it for you, so you can keep it.”

Tamaki shakes his head a little, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box she gave him. Opening it slowly, he pulls out an intricate glass butterfly. It was delicate and beautiful and Tamaki remembers going red and feeling a wave of emotion when he opened it before. The glass catches and glints in the light, showing the lovely craftsmanship. It was a stunning piece of craft.

“This just...This-I love it and I- I just...” he struggles for a second, his throat turning dry and the words getting stuck in his mouth. His face slowly turns red. He had to do this, he had to.

“I like you, Y/N” he winces at the shakiness of his voice. “A-a lot. Since a long time.” He gulps nervously. “And I’m...I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t mean too, I-I swear. It was just to get Mirio and Nejire to leave me alone.” he finishes explaining, his gaze on the ground.

The silence that follows makes him want to shove his forehead against a wall and block everything out.

“You...Really?”

“R-really.” he assures her quietly.

After a beat, he hears her move closer to him, her socked feet coming into his view. He feels her hand gently touch his face, cupping his cheek. Beet red, he looks up with wide eyes. Gingerly, he reaches out and grabs her other arm gently. He’s taken aback as she tugs on his shoulder and pulls him forward, into a hug.

Shocked for a second, because he was actually hugging Y/N, he stands there frozen. He feels her huff a small laugh against his chest, before he brings himself to slowly ad loosely wraps his arms around her, and...oh.

This felt good. He buries his face in her hair and takes a deep, shaky breath. He’s overcome with a wave of emotion. This felt really nice. They stand there for who knows how long before Y/N breaks th silence.

“Hey Tamaki.” She whispers. He responds with a hum, staying where he is, Y/N wrapped in his arms.

“I like you too.” He smiles, a warm, content feeling spreading through him.

Requests Are Open and Welcome! Feel free to stop by and say hi :)

(18/03/2021)

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harrypotter-imaginess · 3 years

Text

Part 2 Here!

Commission info for a Love Letter from you favorite character here!

- You’re probably someone on his morning routine, or who could easily become apart of his daily routine

- Maybe a friendly barista at a café he’s curious about on the way to the his store

- But I like to think you’re someone that works at the local flower shop

- He catches you on his way to work one morning, choosing to walk that day to stretch his legs

- Apparating is convenient, but if he’s not careful he’ll get out of shape pretty fast.

- He see’s you across the street, watering the plants you keep outside the shop, talking to each of them, a smile across your face as you do

- The morning light hits you just right, the golden glow spreading across your face

- “Well aren’t they quite cute?”

- He starts walking to work everyday from then on

- It’s on the fourth or fifth day you notice him-

- Well really you notice his hair, it’s such a rich red

- A livelier shade than any rose or hibiscus you could grow

- “I bet it’s hair dye.” Your co-worker tells you “you know how these city boys are-“

- Well your store is in the heart of the city, on the Jump Street, sandwiched between a book store and a boutique

- And yeah, most of the guys around here do seem impeccably dressed,

- one of your very handsome regular's who comes in to get flowers for his husband every Tuesday even admitted he has a running bi-monthly appointment at the spa, he gets a spray tan, dye job, eyebrows tweezed, the works.

- “It’s just what I have to do to compete, there’s so many young CEO’s now, you’ve got to keep up appearances.”

- And you’re sure he’s not the only one

- Still.. you can’t help but believe that a shade of red that vibrant- that beautiful- can’t be from just hair dye

- “Maybe” you mumble, turning your attention to the peony’s

- You wonder if you’ll see him walk by at the end of the day when all the offices close

- But even though you keep your eyes glued to the store front window, he never shows up

- You see him again the next morning, walking across the street

- This time you take a little more of him in

- He’s pretty tall, though you can’t make out much of his build when he’s wearing that rust colored coat

- And a splatter of freckles across his face, almost like constellations

- He’s got a long nose, but it works with his face

- He’s pretty handsome

- What comes next shouldn’t surprise you, but it does

- Perhaps he felt your eyes on him, silently assessing him- studying him

- Because his eyes lift up to meet yours

- They’re the deepest brown you’ve ever seen, especially when the morning light hits them just so

- Oh sh*t, he caught you staring

- Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t.

- Okay, it’s fine

- Just okay- Just play it cool

- So, you pretend like you weren’t just staring at this handsome stranger admiring his features

- And shamelessly offer your best smile and a wave

- To your surprise he grins, smile spreading across his face

- A light pink dusting his face as he waves back

- And so you become waving friends

- Waving to each other every morning

- Which slowly evolves into trading morning greetings

- “How’s your morning going?” He asks from across the street

- Miffed commuters give him disgruntled looks as they walk around him rushing to work, but he stays rooted to the spot

- “It’s alright can’t complain!” You shout back from your spot by the gardenia bush, earning several looks as well

- “How about you?”

- He gives a teasing look to all the angry passerby’s and gives a “so-so” hand motion

- You almost laugh so hard you cry

- This goes on for a few more days, and your co-workers take notice

- “Flirting with the red head (Y/N)? On company time?” Your co-worker mock gasps and you roll your eyes

- “Oh hush, I’m just being friendly to a neighbor.”

- Your co-worker doesn’t look like they’re buying it, but they don’t say anything else

- It’s late in the afternoon when the shop bell rings

- You’re up to your elbows trimming and re-potting the hydrangeas

- You figure one of the others will get

- You hear some footsteps but ignore it,

- This part is tricky, if you damage any of the roots the plant might not be able to make it

- “Um excuse me, I was wondering if you might help me with something?”

- Ugh, don’t they see you’re in the middle of something

- You’re about to turn around and tell them that customers aren’t supposed to be in back room-

- When you catch a glimmer of vivid red in the corner of your eye

- No that can’t be right, he doesn’t even walk back this way in the afternoon

- Your heart stutters in your chest, face growing hot

- Your crush is getting out of control-

- When you look up, there he is

- His adorable freckles face in all its glory

- Here in the homely, rather dirty, back-plant room at your flower store

- A hesitant smile curled on to his lips

- “I’m sorry, it looks like I’m interrupting, the clerk in the front said you would be back here-“

- Of course they did

- So well what’s he here for?

- Is he here to ask you in a date??

- You might just combust from joy at the thought

- Or maybe he’s here to order a large bouquet for his lover, and the rest of your co-workers think it’s time you get yourself out of this little crush of yours

- The thought fills you with both embarrassment and despair

- Only extreme highs and lows with you, it seems

- “- I’m a business owner a few streets over, and I thought some flowers might add some atmosphere, they said you’re the expert”

- He gives you a boyish grin, his hands shoved into his pockets

- So somewhere in the middle then

- Aright you can work with that

- “Do you have an idea of what kind of flowers you might want?” You’re already moving towards the sink, washing the fertilizer off your arms.

- George blanks, he hasn’t really thought that far

- “Not particularly, do you have any recommendations?”

- You nod, lips pursed as you grab the order form

- “Well what kind of store do you have? Peonys’ and orchids’ are always good with boutiques”

- You figure he owns an upscale boutique or maybe a restaurant, those tend to be the places that do the best in this area.

- And by the looks of his taupe coat, his store is doing very well

- “Hmm well-“ his hand rubs his chin

- Technically it’s a joke shop, but it’s grown to be more than that isn’t it?

- He sells potions, charms, stationary, prank goods (of course), muggle novelty’s- it makes sense to him- but his store has grown to be quite eclectic over the years

- Besides he doubts he can explain it you

- He’s still on the fence whether you’re a muggle or from magic like him

- You’re plants have him suspicious, no way a muggle could grow a gardenia that would put Neville Longbottom to shame-

- Still, if you were a witch there’s no way you wouldn’t have recognized him by now

- The Weasleys have all become some sort of warrior clan war hero, he’s even on a chocolate frog card now.

- Well, he would rather not risk it

- He’s always been the cautious one

- “It’s sort of a hobby store? Well it started out as one, but now we’ve been expanding and we sell a bit of everything.”

- “So kind of like a department store?”

- Department stores are a bit more tricky, each room has a different vibe, but the overall tone has to be neutral

- Hmmmm

- “Maybe some white roses? Orchids might be nice too, and if you’ve got a bit of a green thumb I might recommend succulents or some devils ivy?”

- This is all going straight over George’s head, he never did pay much attention in herbology

- But you’re talking to him as if he’s an equal and he doesn’t want the cutie who works at the local flower shop think any less of him because he doesn’t know a d*mn about plants

- “Those sound lovely”

- He’s not entirely sure how it happens, but by the time he’s left he’s got an armful of plants, and a rolling order at your store to pick up plants every Tuesday

- “Are you sure you’re alright? We deliver for free you know?”

- “No no it’s fine-“

- The tall leafy plant shakes every time he shakes his head

- “Besides I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to see you again” he winks before turning to leave

- You feel your heart skip a beat

- “Did you ask if it was a dye job?” You co-worker yells from the other side of the store as soon as he’s gone

- “Of course I didn’t Ainsley! For one that’s awfully rude”

- They nod knowingly

- “Yeah that’s really fifth date talk”

- They laugh when you throw one of the cards at them

- And like clockwork George comes in every Monday afternoon, and leaves with a handful of arrangements and plants

- You still talk to each other on the street

- “How are the hydrangeas working out for you?” You ask and he gives a ‘ditto’ hand gesture

- “They’re class! I was wondering if I could get a few more?”

- You nod

- “We’ll have more ready for you on Monday, are you sure you don’t want delivery?”

- He manages to carry them off every time, but it sure makes you nervous, just one tumble and they would be ruined

- “We’ve been over this, how would I get to see you then?”

- He gives you a lopsided grin and you find yourself reflecting the expression

- “Oi! Would you two stop flirting in the middle of the street, you’re blocking traffic!” Someone shouts

- He just laughs and offers you a wave

- “What’s with all the plants?”

- They’re the first words out of Ron’s mouth when he steps inside the shop, he’s already shrugging off his coat making his way to where George is fiddling with a new contraption

- “I thought they would make the place livelier”

- False.

- He just wanted an excuse to talk to you.

- He does like the plants though. The white hydrangeas you recommended for the potions section are absolutely lovely

- Though he did use a few charms to make them larger, and stay fresher longer.

- He’s basically got a wall covered in hydrangeas now

- Still lovely though

- “It does look nice” Rob admits

- “So where are the products you need help fixing?”

- George groans waving towards a few oddly stacked boxes

- The packaging on his restock of the portable swamps came in the wrong color, not a big deal he can always change it with a spell

- But it is tedious work, especially when you have to do it one by one, otherwise it might upset the contents.

- And he does not want a swamp in his store

- Ron only nods, unpacking the box

- “You want purple right?”

- There’s a moment of silence between the two

- Purple was Fred’s favorite color

- He used to joke it was because that’s the color Snape turned when he was mad

- But George knows it’s because purple’s the color of the first fireworks they saw.

- He, Fred, Ron and Ginny had snuck away when they were younger to a muggle festival in the village, awestruck by the shapes the fireworks took.

- Fred would have carved that moment into his bones if he could.

- George clears his throat

- “Yeah, purple, same shade as the shop sign”

- Ron nods, pulling out a products wordlessly, motioning with his wand

- “So what’s really the deal with all these plant?” Ron asks, and George sighs

- “Nothing I just thought it might be good for business”

- “Did you get swindled by an attractive salesman?”

- “I wouldn’t say swindled” you gave him a pretty generous discount, and you were even offering free delivery

- That’s kind of a lot to give for a muggle shop

- “So they were attractive then?” Ron says with a grin, he’s only ribbing

- But George’s inquisitive look and the pink flush across his freckles nose makes Ron think he’s on the nose

- “(Y/N)’s fairly attractive”

- Fairly is putting it mildly though, George thinks your adorable

- Ron stutters halfway through the transfiguration spell

- “(Y/N)? Like hot (Y/N)? From the flower shop?”

- George is puzzled but nods

- “You went to hot (Y/N)‘s shop?!?!? WITHOUT ME?” Ron looks like he’s about to cry

- “How would Hermione feel is she heard you talking about another person like that?”

- Ron just gives him an incredulous look

- “She would say ‘I can’t believe George went to hot (Y/N)‘s shop and didn’t invite us’!”

- Apparently you’re quite popular in the shopping district. Your flowers have won the city award twice, before you opened your shop you won a contract as the city’s horticulturist.

- “Last Valentine’s Day Harry and I stood in line for two hours to pick up our bouquets” Ron tells him, he’s already done with the first box

- He figured business was good, it’s almost impossible to run a flower shop in the middle of the city if it isn’t.

- But he didn’t imagine you were award winning or anything

- He sighs so you are a muggle, and you’ve got no need for magic, you make up the difference in talent and skill

- He likes that, maybe he should get some shirts or art prints that say something like that

- He feels a small smile creep onto his face

- Oh well, probably for the best, he’s not sure he has time to date what with how busy things have been

- “Free for dinner? We can go wherever you want, my treat.” George says, slipping on his coat as they finish with the last of the products.

- “How about (Y/N)‘s flower shop?”

- George laughs

- “I’m pretty sure they close at 5....also they don’t have food Ron”

- Ron sighs like he’s just been told Christmas is just cancelled

- “The leaky cauldron is fine too I guess”

- But George can’t stop thinking about you for the rest of the weekend.

- It’s not really that big of a deal if you’re a muggle, but-

- Well how would that even work?

- The closest thing to a muggle he’s personally known is Hermione- who’s a witch and just muggle born

- He wouldn’t be able to tell you about being a wizard- not until you were married, or at least serious enough that he knew you both were going to get married. Which he doesn’t know how he feels about

- So he would have three full time jobs

- Taking care of the store, being your boyfriend, oh and hiding his magical powers from you

- Lovely

- But Merlin- wouldn’t his family love it if he brought you home?

- His Dad would be over the moon, and his Mum, well she’d be happy he found anyone at all. But she wouldn’t mind the pointers you gave her on how to get pinker roses.

- Percy wouldn’t really care either way. He might even like it, a muggle in the family might help his political agenda.

- Good for optics and all

- He already knows Ron likes you

- He and Hermione will be quite pleased they get to ogle you all they want at holiday dinners

- Ginny will like having another person in the family, she would personally give you a tour of the burrow

- Fleur will like having another in law in the family- and Bill will be happy that she’s happy

- Charlie would love it, asking you all about what kind of plants his dragons might like, and if you might plant a few for him, come visit in Romania- the port key’s always open for family-

- Actually he might have to watch out for Charlie, his older brother might legit steal you away from him

- .

- ...

- Fred would have loved you

- Fred would have never let it go on this long

- Fred would have seen George’s lovestruck expression the first time he saw you and said-

- “Well are you going to ask them out?”

- Fred always was the bold one, George was just following his lead most of the time.

- That fireworks thing in their last year was entirely Fred’s idea.

- George would sputter and shrug in response

- ‘I was just lookin’, a man can look can’t he?’

- Fred would have given him one of his wicked grins and said:

- “Look if you don’t ask them out now, then I will”

- And pushed him across the street, holding him to it

- And then when he was halfway across the street towards you Fred would shout:

- “And see if they’ll give us a friends and family discount for the store!”

- George is grinning just imagining it

- Fred wouldn’t have cared at all that you were a muggle.

- All he would care about is that you would make his brother, his best friend, happy.

- “Honestly George, you get hung up over the dumbest things-“ Fred would have said

- “You like them don’t you? They make you feel good about the world and life?”

- And George would just dumbly nod

- “Then that’s all that matters doesn’t it? That you care about someone, and that you can see a future with them. All that other stuff- it’s just noise”

- Alright he’ll try then

- Not just for Fred, but for himself too.

- George strolls into your shop on Monday, an hour before you open-

- “Oh hello George! You’re a little early, I’ve got your hydrangeas trimmed I just need to get your potted plants ready and-“

- “Would you like to go out sometime?”

- “-then I’ll fix up the roses for y-“

- Huh?

- You freeze for a moment, almost dropping the plant in your hands

- Did he just ask you on a date?

- “If dinner is too much, maybe just tea- or coffee?”

- Maybe it’s not exciting enough for you

- Ugh! He knew he should have suggested something more fun like the zoo or maybe a botanical garden?

- But you’re around plants all day, he didn’t want to make you think he only knows one thing-

- “Friday?”

- His eyes shoot up to look at your face, he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at his shoes

- “What?”

- “Friday” you repeat, you’ve got a smile that seems lovelier than any of the flowers you grow.

- “Is Friday good for dinner? I close up at six”

- He grins so wide he’s afraid his face might break

- “Friday is perfect”

#harry potter imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley #fred and george imagine #george weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #weasley imagine #harry potter reader insert #harry potter headcanon #george weasley headcanon #harrypotter-imaginess

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charmingyong · 3 years

Text

Make a Wish, Boy

Genre: Jaehyun x fem!reader, angst, fluff

Warnings: self doubt/insecurities

Word count: 1.7k

Plot: After Jaehyun’s ex crushed his confidence, he met you. The same girl that his genie hyung tended to.

A/N: Sequel/spinoff to Make A Wish, Girl but you don’t have to read that one. Something @cosmiclatte28 suggested and I wanted to write months ago and I finally did it :D This is the official end.

- ❀ -

A heavy weight on his shoulders had never left Jaehyun ever since his girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, dumped him. It was more her words that devastated him than the actual breakup as he had seen it coming with her growing disinterest in him.

“You’re not the same as I thought,” she reasoned. “You’re so clingy and emotionally sensitive. It’s really annoying.”

Her reply made all the self love he tried so hard to build over the years crash down at his feet.

Jaehyun pressed the button for the elevator and let out a long sigh. An old friend of his from school times moved into a nearby apartment, and so he decided to make a trip and visit Jungwoo.

He watched the red lighting display above, the numbers slowly decreasing as the elevator descended. During the wait, he felt a presence beside him and turned his head to quickly glance at his temporary lift buddy.

Only for the air to get knocked out of his lungs when he saw your face.

You were the same girl in the biodata he suggested to his Taeyong hyung, and he then realized that this was the same address he read on there.

The elevator doors opened and you walked in casually, pressing on the button to your floor. You noticed that the boy you stood beside didn’t budge from his place as he gawked at you.

“Are you gonna come in?” you asked, holding onto the button that kept the doors open.

He shook out of his thoughts and hurriedly jogged in. “Sorry,” he muttered while avoiding your gaze shyly.

You hummed. “It’s okay. Where are you heading?”

He was about to press the button for Jungwoo’s floor until he noticed that it was already lit up. “Oh. Same as yours.”

“Ah.” You flashed him a genuine smile and Jaehyun’s heart melted at the simple gesture.

When the doors opened, you strolled out with him following behind. Jungwoo’s suite arrived first, making him halt in front of his door.

“Oh! You live here? I live right next door,” you mentioned with a lively beam.

It was way too fast for him to move on this quickly, especially with the existing insecurities. But he couldn’t help it when his heart combusted at your bright self and you had only met him a few minutes ago. “Actually, it’s my friend’s place.”

Your face fell slightly at the reply and he sensed it, immediately adding, “I don’t live far though. I mean that’s if you want to... um... meet me again.”

Oh shit.

No.

Please say no.

He regretted blurting it out.

But the beautiful smile that formed on you afterwards made his heart drop.

“Sure! I’d love that.” You pulled your phone out and clicked on the screen while Jaehyun grew restless.

He shouldn’t have. This wasn’t right. He’d only drive you away just like his ex.

“You can put your contact in here,” you said and handed the phone to him.

He slowly took hold of it and hesitantly added his name and number before giving it back.

You grinned upon reading his name. “It’s nice meeting you, Jaehyun. I’ll text you later. And oh! I’m Y/N.” You nearly forgot to introduce yourself.

But even if you hadn’t, he remembered your name. “It’s nice meeting you too, Y/N,” he responded with a forced yet excited smile.

You headed towards your door and right before stepping out of his sight, you waved your hand happily, in which he mirrored with an anxious heart.

Once gone, he turned to ring the doorbell but his friend had beaten him and swung the barrier open, a mischievous smile plastered on Jungwoo’s face. He had heard and seen everything through the eye hole.

“So?” Jungwoo was excited to hear the details from his friend about the next-door girl that he had bumped into once.

Jaehyun heaved out a sigh and walked past him. “Just someone I met on the elevator.”

“And you gave her your number. Wow, I didn’t think you’d get over your ex that fast.”

He didn’t. He was still emotionally scarred after exposing his vulnerable side. Jaehyun hated feeling this way, regretted putting his heart on his sleeve. “I’m worried she’ll leave me.”

Jungwoo tutted, disapprovingly shaking his head. “Tell her the truth. Honesty is the best policy.”

- ❀ -

Jaehyun sprinted with his pounding heart. He spent way too long striding around in his home that the time now read 2:05 pm.

Five minutes past the agreed time for meetup.

His hair was a complete mess, having ran through them constantly due to stress. He texted to inform you of a delay due to an unforeseen circumstance. It technically was one, when he didn’t think the fear would get to him this bad. He was a little relieved when you replied back.

Y/N: Oh! Dont worry about it. I’ll be waiting for you :)

You really were an angel that he didn’t deserve to ruin.

Sipping on the cappuccino, you hummed in a delightful tune while waiting for the boy. Waiting didn’t bother you as long as you weren’t being stood up and were informed about it. It was only for a matter of minutes and you’d forgive him ever since receiving multiple frantic apologies and assurances that he’d be there soon.

While taking another sip, the door to the café burst open, and you smiled upon seeing the flushed boy.

He spotted you right away and jogged over. “I’m so sorry! I- I was troubled with something.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. But what were you troubled with? Anything I can help you with?”

Jaehyun gawked at you, amazed that you’d be really calm despite the wait. If he did that with his ex, he’d have to make it up to her.

He really didn’t deserve you.

He sheepishly smiled. “Well, it’s something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”

“Ah.” Admittedly, you were anxious with what he had to say, seeing that he was troubled by it before the meetup. “What is it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and released a deep breath. “I...”

You waited patiently with your entire attention fixed on him.

“I have problems.”

You stayed quiet, unsure what he meant.

Jaehyun looked away from you, his saddened eyes clearly evident. “Like problems in me,” he continued.

You blinked. “I really don’t understand. What problems do you have?”

Jaehyun sucked in a breath and thought back to his ex’s words and listed them off to you. “I’m clingy, emotionally sensitive, overprotective, don’t know how to give space...” he spoke quietly.

When he didn’t continue after trailing off, you urged him gently, “And? So... these are the problems you think you have?”

He shook his head. “I know I have them. It’s the reason why my ex-girlfriend left me.”

You hummed. “Good thing she left.”

Your words stung him hard. He should have seen it coming, yet had a little hope flickering inside that you might be different and tell him that his ex was bad. Looked like he was wrong. He really was all the supposed bad things that his ex had mentioned, and he felt like digging up a grave for himself, hoping he could vanish from the face of the earth.

Until you continued.

“She doesn’t deserve you, making you feel like something is wrong with you when the problem is in her. She couldn’t understand you and that’s her issue. These aren’t problems, Jaehyun. Everyone is different. These so called problems sounds more like you’re the caring type and I like that.” You reached forward to put your palm up, silently asking for his hand. He placed his in yours hesitantly, his heart melting when you curled your fingers around his, rubbing circles with your thumb on the back of his hand.

Jaehyun loved feeling the butterflies in his stomach from your touch and wished you wouldn’t stop the interaction. “You really don’t think I’m bad?” he asked with a hopeful shine in his eyes.

You shook your head, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Nope.”

He sighed, looking down at the table. “You will when you spend more time with me.”

When he didn’t hear your response, he lifted his gaze to see you staring intently at him. You remembered feeling this way, heartbroken a few months back when your ex cheated on you. But thanks to Taeyong, you healed and were now the best version of yourself to date.

And like the way Taeyong helped bring your shine back, you were going to do the same for Jaehyun. With determination in your eyes, you said, “Wanna bet?”

- ❀ -

Jaehyun walked back to his place and was startled to see a figure lazing on his couch. He jumped and placed his hand over his heart. “Oh gosh, hyung! What are you doing here?”

Taeyong huffed. “Well, of course I would only be here to discuss about one thing.”

“What is that?”

“Y/N.”

Jaehyun pressed his lips and looked away.

The genie sighed. “Your breakup really took a toll on you and I notice it every day. But you have to understand that Y/N went through the same thing before. She’ll understand you better than anyone else can. You have to trust her word.”

Jaehyun scrunched his face in confusion. “Her word?”

Taeyong smirked, silently thinking back to your meetup at the café with Jaehyun where the genie was present in disguise to hide himself. “I overheard the bet.”

Jaehyun furrowed his brows. “What bet?”

You smiled, pleased that he was going to give you a chance to prove him wrong. “Let’s say one month. If in one month I run away, I’ll go back to my ex and beg him to take me back.”

His jaw dropped at the absurdity. “You wouldn’t do that.” It didn’t make sense to him and you shouldn’t have to do that.

You crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair, smiling confidently. “That’s how confident I am.”

He gulped nervously. He couldn’t let you do such a thing if you lost. Jaehyun was going to have to get over his internal battle and learn to love and accept himself wholly. “What if you win? What if you don’t leave me in a month?”

A wide grin took over your features, making your eyes crinkles happily. “I want be your personal genie. I’ll make every wish of yours come true.”

#cznnet #nct #nct 127 #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #charm

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30secondstoanime · 3 years

Text

The Birthday Present

pairing: Pro!Hero Midoriya x Fem!Reader

genre/warnings: Reader Insert, Birthday Sex

Kinky Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Gets Out of His Comfort Zone, That's Not How You're Supposed to Use Your Quirk, Porn With Plot, praise kink?, very smutty, Rough Sex, role-playing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Light Choking, Doggy Style, Fluff and Smut, after sex cuddles

word count: 7,467

→ summary: Your birthday is around the corner. What better gift than your boyfriend, the #1 Hero Deku, finally giving you what you want the way you want it: rough and kinky. But first plot!

a/n: Sorry about the crap summary and title, I'm working on that lol. So this is my first fic for the bnha fandom and first attempt at writing very explicit sex scenes and venturing into kinks/BDSM, so please be kind, but also I’d love feedback! This was supposed to be a cute four-page oneshot but turned into a sixteen-page, 7k+ word behemoth, hence the self-indulgent tag ‘cause I couldn't stop writing. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor ;)

In a few days, you’ll be turning twenty-four. Your birthday has always been an odd day you think for someone with your quirk because age really was just a number. That’s not to say you weren’t planning to do something fun, at least if you could figure out what you’d like to do. Okay, so that was a lie. You knew exactly what or should you say who you wanted to do and that it involved getting your back blown out. As soon as the thought pops into your head, your epiglottis forgets its job, and you choke on the sip of UCC coffee, you had tried to swallow. You cough to clear your airway, gasping when air finally expands your lungs. You tap your pen nervously against your desk, eyes scanning the other pro heroes’ faces in your agency. It seems your sudden outburst hadn’t disrupted the comfortable silence of the natural lull of the workday. A beep from your hero pager pulls your attention away from people watching in the office. Coordinates flash in five consecutive seconds before the transmission ends. You stand grabbing your toolbelt and strapping it across your hips; you make your way to the front. As you near the exit, you hear your hero name being called. You turn and see Yaomomo briskly walking towards you.

“Hey Creati, you got the page too?”

“I did, sounds like they’ve made a bit of a mess of things.” You scoff good-naturedly.

“When do they ever not. Were they really like this during your time at U.A.?” She giggles and nods her head. You wonder if you’ll ever stop cleaning up after the nation’s top three heroes.

“Better get going then, we both know they share a singular brain cell, so there’s no telling how much time we have to fix things.”

“Atomic!” You laugh at Yaomomo’s weak attempt to scold you — the amusement in her black eyes softens the tone.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Oh my.”

You blow out a low whistle. Ice and scorch marks are scattered across the street and surrounding buildings. Explosive ash is still gently falling from the sky, and black tendrils are haphazardly keeping electric poles, exposed building foundation, and an abundance of wrecked vehicles from collapsing.

“Creati, check the building foundations. Create new beams and weld them together if necessary. I’ll get started on the pole, we can’t have a live electric wire falling.” She nods, and you split off. The work is slow and arduous, but the orderly nature of reorganizing and coaxing atomic particles back into place helps the time pass quickly. You’ve just finished rearranging the anatomical structure of a car hanging from a, thankfully, undamaged light pole, so that it falls to the ground weightlessly. You touch the damaged side, pull it back together, and return the car to its original density. You give the car a quick tap with the toe of your foot to test the structural integrity, satisfied you step back taking in your handiwork. What had a few hours ago looked like a DEFCON 3 military mission gone awry is now back to looking like an ordinary Japanese street. Well, as normal as you and Yaomomo could reconstruct — you weren’t miracle workers, and Ground Zero’s explosive residue was hard to get rid of. Instead, the way it collected and hung in the atmosphere made it difficult for your quirk to erase without condensing the air. That was out of the question unless you wanted to suffocate Yaomomo. Which you didn’t, so the employees of these buildings would be dealing with the smell for at least a week. Sighing, you tuck your hands in your pockets and make your way over to Creati. Her welding mask obscures her face, but you know it’s in deep concentration. After she cuts the torch and pushes the protective gear up, she gives you a smile.

“All done?”

“Just about.”

“I’ll page H.Q. Might even lodge a formal complaint against those three bird brains while I’m at it.”

“(Y/N), you can’t be serious.” She shoots you an incredulous look.

“They make this huge ass mess and don’t even bother to wait for us to arrive before dipping. Total dick move.”

“Ah-huh.” You don’t like the teasing note in her voice.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You cross your arms defensively.

“Spit it out, Yaoyorozu.”

“You sure your foul attitude has nothing to do with not seeing Deku?” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll see him at home like I do every day. So no, I’m not upset about not seeing him.”

“If you say so.” She gives you a look, and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“You cannot still be stuck on that!”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” She bats her eyes at you innocently while creating a duffle bag to transport the welding equipment.

“That God awful theory you and Ashido have about me having a hero kink for Izuku." You begin to walk side by side back to the agency. You hand her an energy bar from your utility belt.

“I mean, you do get very flushed whenever you see him on patrol. Like, if it were a hentai video, you’d definitely be drooling with your tongue lolling out of your mouth.”

“Ugh!” You shove her with your shoulder. “That is so gross.” Both of you laugh, and after a small lapse into silence, you give.

“Okay fine. I might get instahorny whenever I see Izuku in costume, but I can’t help it. He just looks so good, and it’s heightened because I know what he looks like out of costume, and then all I want to do is jump his bones, but of course, I don’t because propriety. So I’m left with all this pent up sexual frustration!”

“So, are you going to ever mention this to him? Your birthday is in a few days and if I may be so bold —”

“It’s never stopped you.” You mumble under your breath with a smile.

“I’d suggest you request it be your birthday present.”

“Pfft. Yaomomo, we’ve been together almost a year and a half, and while our sex life is fucking phenomenal, I’m talking multiple orgasms almost every time, amazing — it’s been very strictly vanilla. Not from any lack of trying on my end, but every time I’ve tried to spice things up, he gets as close as humanly possible to spontaneous combustion. Don’t even get me started on the one time I tried to get him to choke me while I —”

“(Y/N)! Stop, goodness, I do not need the play by play of your and Izuku’s sex life. I just,” she massages her temples, “wanted to make a suggestion. While I’m relieved you feel so secure in our friendship to be so open, please remember I went to high school with him. He’s like a little brother.”

“Oh, Yaomomo, there’s nothing little about him.” Her face pales, and you can’t stifle your cackle. It quickly becomes a full-blown laugh that rattles through your body.

“I went a little too far with that last comment, gomen. On a serious note, though, how would I even go about asking him? ‘Hey babe, it’s my birthday so I want you to fuck me until my knees are jello while in your hero costume because it gets me all hot and bothered oh and since I’m risking it all I’d love it if you tied me up and maybe choked me too.’”

You glance over your shoulder, a look of profound regret is plastered over Yaomomo’s face. You give her an impish grin.

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue does it.”

“Oh (Y/N).” Your friend shakes her head. When you finally turn the corner onto the street, your hero agency is housed, you catch sight of a mop of green hair. You pick up your pace, a mischievous grin on your face. Using your quirk, you redistribute your mass, so your footfall’s noise against the pavement is silenced. Izuku is talking with someone, his back turned to you. The goods were on display. When he’s in reach, you stretch out your arms, hands cupping his butt you feel him stiffen as you whisper against his ear.

“You’re under arrest for transporting illegal buns of steel.” You watch the blush creep up from his neck before capturing his entire face. He turns his neck, trying to get a good look at you.

“Wh-what!” You begrudgingly let go of his ass, and he turns his body to face you, his freckles standing out against the pink hue of his flustered expression.

“Sorry hun, I don’t make the rules.” You shrug your shoulders.

“I- I, (Y/N) that’s not even a legal penal code! A-and there’s no way I could transport enough steel on my person to warrant a body search.”

“Ooh Deku,” you loosen up the state of your atoms, allowing them to vibrate in mock arousal, “I love it when you talk legal code at me. Repeat it: penal.”

He flounders for a reply, mouth agape at a total loss for words. You giggle at his expression, a total deer in headlights. The person he’d been talking to finally makes themselves known.

“Atomic, you’re still teasing the living soul out of Deku per usual. Glad to know things haven’t changed ‘round here.” His shark tooth smile pulls an equally toothy smile from you.

“Eijiro! When did you get back? I’ve missed you.” You rush to the redhead, and he reciprocates your hug, holding you tight.

“Man, I’ve missed you too (Y/N). The States were cool, but there’s no manlier place than home sweet home.” You pull back and take him in. He looks the exact same if not a little bit more tanned.

“Damn straight.” Yaoyorozu arrives at the end of your reunion. Her excitement at seeing her old friend is nearly palatable. They catch up enthusiastically, and you saddle up next to your boyfriend, who’s finally gotten his blush under control.

“Hey, babe.” You give his cheek a chaste kiss, and he smiles.

“Hey, love,” Izuku gives your hand a squeeze, “How was your day?”

“It was pretty run of the mill except for the utter shitstorm Yaomomo and I had to clean up in Minato City.” You glance down and watch his feet shuffle from side to side.

“Huh, sounds pretty epic.”

“Not the first, second, or even the third word I’d use, but we’re all entitled to our opinions. And don’t you try acting coy with me, Izuku! That blonde ticking time grenade, the confused weather pattern, and your quirk were all over that place.” Izuku gulps.

“I expended a lot of energy cleaning up after you and your friends baka. As compensation, you’ve gotta cook me curry rice. Deal?”

He kisses your cheek in assent.

“Great!” You beam. “I’m gonna go change, be back in fifteen.” You disappear through the agency’s massive double doors. Yaomomo watches until you’re out of view before she walks over to Midoriya.

“So about (Y/N) ’s birthday . . .”

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

When you come out, you find a peculiar scene waiting for you. Yaoyorozu has crafted a fan for, you presume, Izuku, who is so red you could almost see the light refraction from his face’s heat and sweating by what looks like the gallon. Eijiro is by his side, trying to calm him down. You heighten the sensitivity of your cochlea to pick up the tail end of their conversation.

“It’ll be super manly, dude!”

“Bu-but I’ve never . . .” Your boyfriend seems tongue-tied.

“You’ve definitely got it in you,” Eijiro slaps Izuku on the back, “Plus Ultra!”

Izuku echoes Eijiro, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it.

You return to your average level of hearing and walk up to the trio.

“Everything good?” They all look at you with expressions that clearly scream, ‘No, everything is not good dumbass.’

“Riiight, foolish question. Izuku, babe, do you need me to help you?” He squeaks, and that stops you dead in your tracks. The last time he had squeaked in your presence was when he’d asked you out on your first date, and you think it was mostly because you had bluntly told him you had every intention of having sex with him if not after your first then for sure after your second date. He didn’t even squawk when you made good on your declaration, and you had been positive he was going to. Your assurance cost you a ¥2,000 bet with Ochako and Shoto. Whatever had transpired while you were changing had him spooked.

You crouch down and gently take his face between your hands. His cheeks are unnaturally warm. Closing your eyes, you reach out with your quirk to scan his vitals. What the actual fuck? Izuku’s pregenual anterior cingulate cortex is enormous. Your boyfriend is next level embarrassed. His heart rate is in the 200bpm range, which should have been impossible because it only ever got that high when he was exercising, and you were quite familiar with getting it there.

You’re honestly shocked his heart hasn’t started to palpitate with the sky-high levels of cortisol in his blood and high heart rate. Taking a deep breath, you begin to gently persuade the firing neurons near his PACC to chill, its size slowly decreases. You travel down to his hypothalamus and rearrange some of its chemical balance, so it stops producing corticotropin-releasing hormone, creating a negative feedback loop that would lead to his body to drop its cortisol production. You vasoconstrict a handful of the blood vessels in his face for good measure, hoping to cool it down. Your eyes flutter open, and the ruddiness is gone, and his cheeks feel cool against your palms. He gives you a weak smile and gosh that smile, these freckles, those lively emerald eyes. You lean your forehead against his, taking a moment to collect yourself. You kiss the tip of his nose before pulling yourself up, stretching once you’re fully upright.

“Well damn, I’m starving now. I know I said you had to cook for me, but I don’t think I’ll last. What do you say, Number 1. Hero, care to take me out to eat?”

Izuku gets to his feet, with a bit of help from Eijiro, who keeps a hand wrapped around his waist to keep him from stumbling.

“Yeah, of course, love. Just tell me where you want to eat.”

You grin in delight. Before making a decision, you turn to your two other companions. You’re not sure when Yaomomo had time to change, but she’s no longer in her hero costume.

“Would y’all like to join us? Izuku’s treat.” Your cinnamon roll’s protest is drowned out by their loud acceptance.

“I mean, if my bro is gonna treat us, then how could I say no?”

“How gracious Izuku, I’d love to share a meal with everyone.”

“Let’s get going then!” You grab Izuku’s hand and turn around, heading in the direction of the train stop. The walk will give you time to decide where you want to eat.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Hold on one sec, almost got it.” You pace next to Izuku; the pressure on your bladder almost debilitating. At the click of your front door unlocking and seeing Izuku push it open, you rush through over the threshold. You kick the heels off your feet, your slippers abandoned at the entryway as you make a break for the bathroom. You can’t get your underwear off quick enough. The relief is almost pleasurable. You’d forgotten what it felt like to pee while exceedingly inebriated. Typically when you go out drinking, you elevate your liver’s production of alcohol dehydrogenase so you can avoid getting drunk, but tonight was your birthday celebration, and you wanted to get shitfaced, so you dialed it back. Now that you’re home and not interested in a hangover, you make the necessary adjustments to your liver. The night out had been a pleasant surprise. More people had shown up than you’d been led to believe would, most importantly, your younger siblings had stopped by — you hadn’t seen them since moving to Musutafu to pursue your hero career. You finish reminiscing over the night’s events. Quickly wiping, you flush the toilet and wash your hands. When you open the door, you find your slippers are there waiting. He was a total sweetheart.

You slide your sore feet in and sigh at the fluffiness. You make your way to your bedroom, surprised to find it empty. Where had Izuku gone? You take off your earrings, dropping them into your jewelry box. Making your way to the main bathroom connected to your room, you’ve just finished wiping away your makeup when you hear the door open. You walk to the bathroom door to peek and gasp as soon as you spot the figure closing the door behind them. Now you’d be the first to admit you are a horny bitch, but never have you felt your pussy throb with such a deep longing the way it was throbbing now. You stand still dumbfounded at seeing Izuku in his hero costume in your bedroom.

“Babe?” You try to suppress the quiver in your voice.

“Ma’am,” He tilts his head in greeting, “I got reports of a villain in the vicinity. I’m Deku, and I’m here to take care of you.”

Why the fuck did he just introduce himself? And a villain? You reach out with your quirk but don’t feel an unknown presence nearby. You start to walk towards him but stop at the foot of your bed. He meets you there, and you don’t know what to expect, but it definitely was not him pushing you onto your back. You fall with a muffled thud against the comforter. You stare up at him at a complete loss. You then become hyper-aware of what you’re wearing. The sparkling strappy mini dress leaves little to the imagination, and you’re positive that from his angle, Izuku can see your panties and the growing evidence of your arousal.

“Apologies, ma’am, but I’ll be using my quirk to restrain you as a precautionary measure.” Your mouth goes dry as you watch Blackwhip manifest wrapping around your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, and adhering to your shared bed’s headboard. You have to scoot yourself back a few inches to ease the tension in your shoulders. Holy shit. He just tied you up. This whole time he’s been standing at the end of the bed taking you in. You know your face is flushed, and you can feel your nipples brushing against the material of your dress now that you’re so turned on. Izuku’s hands come into view, and that somehow gets your mouth to work again.

“What are you going to do?” You arch an eyebrow and part your lips to let your tongue dart out and wet them. Fuck Yaomomo wasn’t off the mark with her comment.

“I’ll need to do a full-body search to ensure you’re not concealing anything illegal on your person.” You don’t have time to respond before his gloved hands caress down your pinned arms, across where your neck and shoulders meet. Leaving goosebumps in their wake. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You groan as the sensation travels down, pooling between your legs. He moves down your sides, slowly over your exposed thighs sticking strictly to the outside of your legs until he reaches mid-calf. You feel his hands move, and suddenly their inching closer to your aching cunt. Using his right hand Izuku runs a finger teasingly up between your clothed slit and your hips give an involuntary buck. He removes his finger and tuts at you, that pisses you off.

“What the fuck Izu —” You stop yourself when you see another tendril of black materialize near your face.

“Don’t make me gag you. My name is Deku, and you will address me as Deku-sama.” There’s a finality in his tone that leaves no room for argument. You’re torn between being really fucking aroused and very vexed at this role reversal. You’d always been on top, literally and figuratively, and now here he was, your cinnamon roll, threatening to gag you and not even blushing about it. He takes your silence as understanding and begins to hike up the bottom of your dress. With your midriff exposed, he finally settles between your legs, his toned abdomen flush against you. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above your belly button, his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. Izuku’s lips continue to roam over every inch of your exposed abdomen, sucking and biting. He’s going to leave love marks all over your stomach, you’re sure. His hands travel up under your dress, coming to rest just below your breasts. You feel the flat of his tongue working its way towards his hands. When you can feel his breath tickling you already hard nipples, he pulls his face away. You squirm and pull against your restraint — you feel them tighten.

“What is it you want, villain?” Fuuuck. The word falls from his lips wrapped in sinful promise sending another steady pulse of need through your body. Your nervous system was on fire.

“I want you to touch me.” You try to taper down the pleading in your voice, but the mildly amused expression on Izuku’s face says you failed.

“Like this?” His hand runs down your neck, over your dress and through the valley of your cleavage, past your naval stopping at the band of your panties. It dawns on you that he was teasing you.

“Or like this?” You’re not sure when his gloves came off or how he managed it, but one second you’re covered by the flimsy dress material next, the straps keeping it up are torn, and the dress pulled down. You hiss at the shock of the sudden temperature change, but quickly warm up as calloused fingers massage your breasts. A greedy moan is the only answer you can manage as you arch your back into his touch. He leans closer, breath warm against your neck, and moves a hand down to grip your ass,

“Let’s see if these are illegal buns of steel.” Even with how incredibly husky his voice is, you almost laugh at his remark’s absolute absurdity. Still, having maybe foreseen your reaction Izuku wraps one of your nipples between his lips before you can utter a sound.

“Deku-sama.” You inhale sharply coming completely unwound as his tongue flicks and swirls. His mouth sucks and pulls playfully. When his teeth graze your nipple, you contemplate making your hands boneless to escape the restraints just so you could tangle your hands in his hair; even with the undercut, you knew you could make him moan. The idea is quickly dashed as Izuku releases your now overly sensitive bud with a resounding pop that sends the ache in your pussy into a frenzy. Good god , he hasn’t even gotten inside of you yet. He treats your other nipple with much the same attention. However, this time, he lets his teeth give it a gentle nibble, and the shock of the feeling causes your skin to prickle. You feel him grin at your reaction before giving your nipple a farewell lick. He captures your lips, shoving his hips down against your own, as his hands’ ghost over your neck. You hook a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, trying to create as much friction as possible as you roll your hips upward. He lets out a breathy chuckle, as his mouth moves to replace his hands. He kisses up your neck, his breath tickles your ear, and you stutter out a needy whimper.

“Someone’s eager.” You groan in frustration as he pulls back. His hands grab hold of what’s left of your dress, and you help him get you out of it. He runs a finger up your stomach, stopping just below your sternum. The tip of his index finger traces a lazy circle before leaving a trail of goosebumps back down to your hip. The pressure of his finger is replaced by his mouth, biting the flesh of your hip crease hungrily. He kisses his away across to your opposite hip, traces of his kisses wet against your skin. You feel his fingers toying with the lacy hem of your panties before he hooks them in the elastic, pulling them down. You lift your hips as they pass over the curve of your ass, and you wriggle in anticipation. Izuku braces his left forearm against your right thigh, pushing your legs wider. His index finger explores your wet folds, dipping briefly into your slit, before brushing against your swollen clitoris.

“Deku-sama, please .” You don’t care how desperate you sound, the ache in your pussy is becoming unbearable. The slow burn was killing you.

“Since you said, please.” He slips a thick finger inside of you, curling it just so it massages the soft and spongy spot that makes your toes curl and lewd obscenities fall from your parted lips.

“Aah, fuck. Fuck, yes, there, right there. More. Izuku give me more.” A second finger is roughly inserted. You cry out as a jolt of ecstasy consumes every inch of you. He begins to scissor his fingers back and forth, “It’s De-ku sa-ma,” each thrust emphasizing the syllables of his declaration. You rock your hips up, trying to get his fingers deeper because you are close. You can feel the dam getting ready to burst. When his thumb circles your clit, you feel yourself clench around his fingers. He inhales sharply. You bite back a moan as stars begin to dance across your vision. The rhythm of his fingers picks up, and the pressure on your clit begins to be too much.

“You’re about to cum.” It’s not a question, but you manage to pant a yes, and it becomes your undoing. Tongue replaces fingers before you can bemoan feeling empty, hands wrap under your thighs, keeping you exposed when they instinctively try to shut. His fingers dig into soft flesh, and the pain leaves you dizzy for more. He unhooks his left arm from your thigh, again using his forearm to keep your leg down. Two fingers spread you open, and his breath is warm, and you screw your eyes shut because fucking hell, you feel ready to erupt. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slips inside you and starts to lick around. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps up your wetness. When he takes your clitoris in his mouth, you feel yourself at the edge of a precipice.

“Y-your fin-fingers. Deku-sama.” You frantically tug against your binds as you arch your hips rutting into his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel yourself drowning in pleasure when his fingers join back in the fray. You’re full, and his tongue is everywhere. Inside you along with his fingers, pressing in all the right places. There’s no room to be embarrassed by your body’s wet sounds as you thrust against his fingers or the sounds he’s eliciting from you — loud, throaty, and gluttonous. He laps up the juices wherever they end up, on your thighs, in your folds, the space between your pussy and ass. At your clit he teases with nibbles, quick flicks of his tongue, and long flat strokes. He was treating you like you were his favorite meal. Coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths. You lose track of time. The air crackles with electricity, Izuku, the electromagnet to your copper coils. It sparks against your skin. Were you doing that? You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter because something was building. You feel it in your core, your quirk causing your atoms to buzz in excitement. He lets you hook your legs around his back, locking your ankles. You make a strangled noise when a particularly aggressive thrust combined with the head-splitting euphoria of Izuku’s tongue on your clit brings your Earth stuttering on its axis.

“Oh fuck, oh kami. Shit, Deku-sama!”

You flicker in and out. One second howling Izuku’s name like a prayer to the Gods, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. The next, you find yourself weightless in a void no longer in a corporeal form. What the fuck? It lasts no longer than a second before you return to your body and the sound of him cooing against your aching cunt.

“That’s it, cum villain. Cum for me.” And cum, you do. Waves of fiery ecstasy set your body aflame. You clench your fists and use your legs to pull Izuku’s face further flush against you. When you think you can catch your breath, Izuku surprises you by coaxing you into another smaller orgasm. You don’t know how he did it, but you really can’t complain, you’re feeling blissful as fuck. The bed creaks as he shifts back onto his knees, unwrapping your legs from around him. Blachwip is deactivated, and your arms fall uselessly to your sides. You feel your legs quiver from exertion, and you watch your chest rise in fall sporadically as your breathing levels off. You prop yourself up on your elbow to give Izuku a once over. He’s got a bit of sweat on his forehead, you can see the outline of his erection against the front of his hero costume, and your cum glistens on his nose, mouth, and chin. Not sure how you manage it, with your body feeling so close to putty, but you scoot back, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and rock forward onto your knees so you’re facing him.

You move closer, so your knees brush against his. Now that you’re close enough, you can see how blown his pupils are. They almost wholly eclipse the dark shamrock of his irises. He had it bad for you. You could fix that. You grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting it down to your lips so you can lick it clean. When your tongue traces the outline of his mouth, a low moan rumbles in the back of his throat. You get his mouth open with a hard nip to his bottom lip. Tasting yourself in his mouth and on his tongue makes you squeeze your thighs together briefly before you let your free hand wander between your legs to stroke your clit and moistening labia. You give the tip of his nose a cutesy peck that almost brings a blush to his freckled face, but he remains in character, so you palm his cock with your damp hand grinning devilishly when he stutters an exhale.

“I want you, hero.”

Izuku’s chuckle is rich, and you can feel it reverberate against where your chests connect. You start to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, the short buzz of his undercut tickles your fingertips. Sliding your hand up, you finally get to tangle your fist in his hair, your grip tightens, and you pull his head back, exposing his neck. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to just below his earlobe, all the while your hand strokes him into fully hardening.

“I’m not fucking around, Deku.” Your voice is thick and your tone dark, dangerous. He grabs the wrist of the hand that’s between his legs and growls,

“Neither am I villain slut.” You swallow hard at his inflection on the word slut. You’d never been called a slut during sex, and under any other circumstance, you’re sure it wouldn’t have sent a thrill of arousal pulsing from your fingertips down to your toes. He brings the hand up above your head, reaching behind his head to grab your second hand. You give him a feral grin, and his eyes flash before he sends you to your back. You’re about to stretch out your legs when he commands you to flip over onto your hands and knees. You do as you’re told, biting your lip as warmth begins to once again pool between your legs. You wish you could help him out of his costume, but it sounds like your help wasn’t needed. His dick grazes against the back of your thighs. A finger follows the curve of your spine. You arch into the touch and moan when it dips at your hip to tap your clitoris.

“You’re so wet already. You villains really know nothing about bedroom decorum.” He skims a hand over your stomach, stopping to grope and tease your hardened nipples.

“Oh? Keeping a woman in suspense isn’t exactly proper in my book De-ku sa-ma.” You look over your shoulder with a smirk.

“You’re,” he thrust into you without warning, quickly turning the grin on your face into an open-mouthed ‘oh,’ “not,” he pulls out, so the tip of his head just barely touches your cunt, “a woman.” He pushes into you, swearing under his breath as you push your hips back to meet his momentum. A ragged breath escapes your lips as you adjust to him, filling you. Shit, the boy is thick. His nails dig into your hip as he continues to fuck you at a painfully slow pace. Fingers tweak your nipples, and you feel your whole body flush with pleasure. You clutch the bedsheets in two tight fists when he starts to quicken his thrusts. His chest is slick with sweat against your back, his tongue tracing circles into your shoulder. An aggressive stroke sends the head of his cock rubbing up against your G-spot, and you feel your walls squeeze around him.

“Shit, shit, fuck Deku. That’s it. Just keep putting pressure on that spot.” You feel your elbows buckle, and you expect to crash into the bed. Instead, black tendrils wrap around your arms to keep you upright. This is definitely not how Lariat intended Blackwhip’s tendrils to be used. The thought makes you giggle. It seems that this was not a sound Izuku wanted to hear coming from you. He bites down on the spot of your shoulder he’d been suckling, making his displeasure known. You feel him adjust himself behind you, perhaps too quickly, because he slips out of you, and you protest immediately with a loud whine.

“I’ll give you something to whine about.” He thrust back into you, your knees go weak, and your pussy’s stimulation begins to pull the taught rope of your impending orgasm closer to snapping. One of his hands grabs the hair at the base of your neck, tugging with just enough force to tease a guttural mewl from you.

“That’s more like it.” You’re so overstimulated, with the rhythm of his dick coming in and out of you. The attention he’s paying to your clit, you scarcely have the headspace to be shocked by the personality change. Izuku doesn’t release his hold on your hair; instead, he deactivates Blackwhip and uses the grip to guide you, so your back is flush against his chest. You can smell the muskiness of his sweat with him so close. It mingles in the air with the scent of your arousal. Sex, the whole room smelled heavily of your fucking. He brushes a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down gently. You open your mouth, taking it in, holding it gently between your teeth, your lips acting as a cushion. You suck on Izuku’s thumb, letting your tongue swirl over the tip treating it how you would if you were instead sucking on the head of his cock. You hollow out your cheek and release his thumb with a satisfying pop. Your reward is the sound of Izuku’s heated gasp. The sound tightens the coil in your groin. You feel his right hand lightly trailing up your side. You expect him to stop to cup your breast, but a tingle runs up your spine when he skips it entirely. His thumb rests a few inches under your right ear, the fleshy part of his palm rests against your trachea, the remaining four fingers occupy the same spot under the opposite ear. You can’t hide your excitement as he begins to apply light pressure to your neck. It’s amplified when he whispers in your ear,

“Whose slut are you, villain?”

“I’m yours. All yours.” He squeezes a little tighter, and you squirm, gripping his left hip for stability.

“Yours, Deku-sama. I’m all yours.” You choke over the words while he loosens his grip satisfied with your correction. The brief bout of intoxicating lightheadedness dissipates quickly, but he keeps his hand around your neck.

You feel him, hard and slick, throbbing inside you, and you know he’s close. You prepare to ride out the coming crescendo that you’ll set off with your silver tongue.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, hero? I can feel your cock pulsing.” He squeezes your neck tighter than he has before reminding you who was in charge. You dig your nails into his hip and bite your lip. Was he turning into a masochist, or were you?

“I want you to cum in me. Make me your bona fide villain bitch — think you’re up for it, big boy?” You were being so bold, goading him. It does the trick. He releases his hold on your neck, you’re a little sad, but are swiftly distracted by a sudden burst of heat and green energy crackling, the telltale sign of Full Cowl being activated. What the hell was he up to? Your answer comes moments later when his hands push your bent legs further apart, hooking his arms under your thighs to lift them up. You feel weightless, free, and so very wanton. Then like being dosed with ice-cold water, you come back to your senses; you’ve always been terrified of being picked up during sex. Your arms flail, searching for anything to grab hold of. They settle awkwardly at Izuku’s neck. Your breathing is a little erratic.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Oh, he was being a total ass.

“Absolutely not.” You bite back.

“Heh.”

Sensing your discomfort, he places you back down on your knees, his hand returning to your neck — where it belonged. Shit, it was you, you’re the masochist. You feel him throb inside you, the head of his penis gets a little bigger and his cock harder. His movements become more sporadic. You take his free hand and lead it to your clit, you’d be damned if he cums before you. His groans become music to your ears, loud and ravenous as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. Soon that’s all you can feel, like tunnel vision nothing else matters, there are no other options, but his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you as his fingers dance around your clit. He flicks and pulls, rubs circles, and you savor every second of it. Everything cumulates into a blinding flash of white-hot light as if you’re staring directly at burning magnesium. You hear him crying out your name, and it mixes with your carnal pleas into a cacophonous soundtrack to your mutual climax. He finishes inside you, the thick viscous liquid of his orgasm, filling you with more warmth than you anticipated. As you ride out your orgasm, you don’t stop gyrating your hips until you feel Izuku become soft. You let out a shaky breath as you come to a stop to catch your breath. You’re thankful that he doesn’t seem eager to pull out quite yet while you bask in the quiet exhilaration of having orgasmed three times this night.

“I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

You nod your head slightly, words out of reach with your euphoria’s hum still clouding your mind. Cum trickles down between your thighs, the sensation almost ticklish, but far more erotic. With nothing connecting you to Izuku, your body gives in to its exhaustion, falling forward unceremoniously. He wraps an arm around your waist, setting you gently down on your stomach. Rolling onto your back, you shimmy up onto a pillow to support your head. You glance up at Izuku and sigh in content. Hair stuck to his head, abs contracting as he slows his breathing (his heart rate close to 180bpm), and his left-hand traces the scars on his right arm absently. Even in such a worn-out state, he looked otherworldly. You lock eyes, and you pat his side of the bed next to you.

“Cuddle with me.” At hearing those three words, he sheds his façade, his eyes soften, his jaw loosens, and he eagerly obliges your request. He rests his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair as he gently brushes your side. You stay like this for a few minutes until he starts out of your arms like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. He sits up, you follow suit intrigued by what’s got him so worked up. You watch him reach across towards his nightstand. He pulls out a notebook and a pencil. You have to suppress your snort as he begins scribbling furiously. You couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, catching bits and pieces of his muttering.

“. . . dominated . . . choking . . . loud . . . buns of steel. . .” You can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you. He glances up and gives you a sheepish grin, his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“You fucked me into another dimension, jot that down in your sex notebook.” A blush erupts across his face.

“I-I what? Seriously?”

“Mhmm, as seriously as my orgasm.” Embarrassment flickers momentarily in his eyes, quickly replaced by intense curiosity. You dare say you see a little triumphant gleam too.

“What happened, tell me everything, love.” You recount what he’d been doing with his tongue and fingers. The feeling leading up to it and what it looked like in this other dimension.

“Sounds like you’ve unlocked another facet of your quirk.”

“Looks like it, but it’s not really useful.” He gives you an inquiring look; you roll your eyes. He could be so dense sometimes.

“I can’t exactly have you eating me out in public every time I want to astral project now, can I?” His blush returns full force.

“Maybe there’s another way.”

“Possibly, but I’m beat. My legs feel like jello, and I’m starting to feel sore.” You massage your neck, glancing at your exposed breasts and the marks that speckle them. Izuku looks at you with worry.

“You can’t fix it with your quirk?”

“I can, but where’s the fun in that? One of my favorite parts of sex is feeling it the next day. I’m definitely going to tomorrow and maybe the day after thanks to you.” You give him a wink and admire as he fumbles with his words.

“Oh! Well, I mean. Yeah. No problem. I think?” He was definitely back to being your cinnamon roll. You giggle quietly.

“Before I go clean up, I’ve gotta know. How did you do that.” You motion with your hand, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does.

“Simple, lots of research.” You squint at him, touching the pulse at his neck. It was slightly elevated.

“Ah-huh, and what else?”

“No-nothing!” The pulse quickens a little more.

“Did you role play with someone?” The idea sounds absolutely preposterous, but when he pushes your hand away from his neck and gets up off the bed, you know you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re using your quirk, that’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war. So, who was it with? Shoto? Eiji? Or was it Katsuki ?” The light hue of pink that creeps up his neck is all the confirmation you need.

“Ah,” you bob your head sagely, “it makes sense, babe, he gives off a total masochist vibe. I’d have practiced with him too. What was it like? Would he be open to a threesome? Or would it be a foursome since he’s got that not, so secret thing going with Eiji? Could I even handle the three of you?” You wonder out loud.

“(Y/N)!” Izuku rushes into the bathroom, adamantly trying to end this conversation. You weren’t letting this go, oh no siree, so you get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where Izuku’s turned on the shower and is standing under its current.

“Nice try. You’re giving me the details.” He sighs defeatedly.

“Can it wait until we’re in the bath.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting.

“I guess.” Izuku grabs you, pulling you into the shower with him. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. He gives the top of your head a kiss.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

Happy fucking birthday to me. You smile to yourself.

#bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #midoriya izuku #midoriya fic #reader is female #reader insert #midoriya fluff #the gift that keeps on giving

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lloydskywalkers · 3 years

Note

let me just start out by saying i love ever single one of your stories!!! i’m pretty new to the show and your works just add so much more feeling to everything and it’s sooo good!!! i don’t know if you ever do requests or not, so don’t bother with this if you’re busy!! but if you ever get a chance could you write smthg abt Jay and Kai? their friendship is so underrated but so good and i live for the moments in the show when Kai’s big brother instinct(tm) kicks in for him as well as Nya and Lloyd

aH thank you so much!! i’m so glad to hear that :D and this isn’t...exactly what you asked for, but Kai and Jay have this fun of dynamic that reminds me a lot of me and my brother, and i’ve been tossing around little bits of interaction between them for a while now, so i tried to make something coherent out of those :’D

Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at the whole compartmentalizing thing, for the most part. Mainly because he actually knows what it means, and it is not, for instance, locking your team up in a literal compartment while rushing off to fight the other compartment that is your resurrected homicidal father into submission.

“That was one time,” Lloyd will grumble, as if he’s only almost-died once. And then Jay will flinch, because that’s where his compartments come into play.

(Nadakhan gets one, Unagami gets another, the whole fun-times adoption reveal another, and everything else can get stuffed into the metaphorical attic since they won’t pay rent.)

Unfortunately, the attic is where the bad stuff lives.

Metaphorically.

If Jay had a nickel for every time he almost lost all of his friends, he’d have two nickels, plus another nickel for Cole falling into the fog, and another for Lloyd getting crushed by a roof, and another for Zane blowing up, and another for Nya in that awful dress with paling skin as her breathing stutters and the light in her eyes draining and —

And Jay is way, way too familiar with how it looks when his family dies, and all the nickels in the world won’t help that.

So while Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at compartmentalizing, he also thinks he’s got a valid excuse for the way he reacts when Lloyd goes down in the fight that afternoon. Sure, some vague part of his mind remembers that they’ve got a plan they’re running, and Lloyd should easily be able to handle a tiny little stumble — but Jay’s mind is stuck in glaring oranges and health bars, the unsteady gasping noise Lloyd had made before he went down, dissolving into digitized cubes just like everyone else, and Jay—

Jay can’t handle that, compartments or not, so he clears the space between them in a heartbeat just in time to take the bullet that comes hurtling Lloyd’s way.

It’d probably be a very noble and touching scene, if one) Jay didn’t make a hideous squeaking noise when it hit because bullets hurt, and two) the bullet would have missed Lloyd by a good two feet anyways.

Ah well, he thinks, as everything devolves into panicked yelling. It’s the thought that counts.

Except thoughts do not count when Kai is involved, apparently. Or any of the rest of the team, for that matter.

“What is wrong with you?” Kai hisses right in his face, eyes wild and sparking. “I was covering Lloyd, what were you doing?”

“Filling in for you, obviously,” Jay retorts. He has an excellent followup to that, real snappy and all, except that’s the moment Kai’s hand clamps down on the bullet wound in his arm to stop the bleeding, and Jay ends up stifling a shriek instead.

Great, he thinks, fighting back stinging tears of pain as he tries not to take Kai’s apparent wrath too personally. At least Cole looks worried, along the the rest of the team, who are dutifully concerned for his wellbeing like proper teammates should be.

“He’s going to need the hospital,” Zane informs them, his voice a lot steadier and calmer than his words make Jay feel. Zane��s eyebrows furrow as he studies his arm. “Stitches, probably.”

Jay swallows, trying not to curse. There’s a sharp scream as Nya finishes taking out another attacker just beyond them, and Jay figures that’s good enough.

“Okay,” Lloyd says, squeezing Jay’s wrist briefly. Either in comfort about the stitches or thanks for trying to cover him, Jay’s not sure. It’s a nice gesture, nonetheless. “Kai, Cole, can you get him there while we finish up? Sooner the better.”

Cole gives a sharp nod, and offers to take Jay from where Kai’s got him in a death grip. Kai shakes his head, and Jay’s stomach sinks. Sure enough, as soon as they’re clear of the scene, Kai starts going off.

“What did you mean, ‘filling in for me’,” he grinds through his teeth, clearly not about to let this go.

Jay bristles in response at his tone. “I meant,” he bites out, through a hot flare of pain in his arm. Kai’s always merciless with the bandages, even when he’s not in a mood. “That you weren’t there. So I covered.”

He should leave it at that, but Jay’s in a foul enough mood to finish with a condescending, “You’re welcome.”

Kai’s expression grows thunderous. “You didn’t need to. I was right there, you shouldn’t have — you weren’t needed, you should’ve held back.”

Jay feels his chest go tight. His head is clouding with anger, and the pain in his arm isn’t helping, but — ‘you weren’t needed’? Kai really didn’t skimp on the jerk juice this morning, did he.

“Oh, like you could’ve done so much better,” Jay glares. “Lloyd would’ve been toast by the time you got to him.”

“I could’ve made it!”

“Yeah right—”

“I would have, and I wouldn’t have gotten hit!” Kai snarls back. Something in Jay snaps. Or maybe it’s just the steadily increasing blood loss, but of all the nerve—

“Well you didn’t, ‘cause you weren’t there!” he snaps back. “You were too slow, which is real funny since your brain is too!”

It’s not his best comeback, he’ll admit, but Kai looks as if he’s about to light him on fire, if he weren’t stuck carrying Jay like the cover of some awful romance novel, blood getting all over his uniform as they both scream at each other. Maybe Jay will get lucky, and Kai will combust, and they’ll both go up in flames before they can remember that Cole is right there watching them.

“Cut it out, now!”

Oops, too late. For all the incensed authority in Cole’s voice, there’s still a traitorous falter that lets them both know they’ve screwed up. They fall silent, the atmosphere heavy with the lingering tension and new sense of guilt.

And the disgusting sound of Jay’s blood leaking through the makeshift bandage and hitting the ground, truly revolting, he hates blood.

“Just…no more. Please, shut up until we’re at the hospital.” Cole marches forward, snatches Jay from Kai’s arms, and proceeds to beat the fastest route to the hospital at a militant pace.

Jay still looks like some helpless romance cover heroine, dangling from Cole’s arms like he is. It occurs to him that he doesn’t even need to be carried — it’s his arm that’s hurt, he can still walk—

But any protests die rapidly at the look on Cole’s face. And at least this way, Jay thinks sullenly, he can fixedly ignore Kai.

Then again, Kai’s got a killer glare, and Jay’s always been garbage at ignoring people when his feelings are hurt.

* * * * * * * *

Despite the fuss everyone makes, Jay’s arm really isn’t that bad. They hook him up with some pretty sweet meds so he remembers zero of the actual arm-fixing, and he wakes up just in time to complain about being held in the hospital for ‘observation’ or whatever.

“It’s to make sure there’s no infection, or that you don’t rip your stitches out,” Nya tells him pointedly. Jay cringes under the look she gives him at that last part. Geez. You get kicked in the stitches one time after sneaking out early and suddenly no one’s got any faith in you. Typical.

“Why couldn’t we have just gone to medbay,” Jay grumbles. “Pixal gives way better stitches than this, anyways.”

“Gun wounds get hospitals,” Nya reminds him. “And it’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on Pix when we can avoid it.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Nya glares at him. “It most certainly was that bad.”

“Oh, so when you get your arm crushed by a car, it’s fine,” Jay glares back. “But when I get a tiny little bullet nick, it’s that bad.”

Nya rolls her eyes, ignoring him. “Just think of it this way,” she says. “Now you have a little more time before Lloyd starts weeping apologies all over you.”

“Aw, no,” Jay groans, leaning back in the hospital bed. “Tell me he’s not blaming himself, Nya.”

“I think we had a promise about not lying to each other, or something,” Nya says, sympathetically. She winces. “Pretty sure he made the connection, too.”

Jay frowns. “What connection?”

Nya shifts, her eyes darting from side to side. “The, uh, the whole…Prime Empire, thing.”

Jay stares at her for a beat, trying to reconcile his blatant shock with the roiling nausea at the mention in his stomach. Nya looking at him all kind and sympathetically isn’t helping, either, because she might have made it down to the final two, but she was never all alone, and the reminder that she’d have been fine if Jay hadn’t gotten her killed twice is—

Bad. Real bad, not good, zero out of ten stars. Maybe he can take a bullet for Nya, next, and that’ll — that’ll help things, maybe. Equivalent exchange? Restitution? Some kind of fancy word that means Jay swears he’s gonna make it up.

In the meantime, he smothers the rising sickness in his throat and sinks lower into the bed, sulking. “It’s too easy to recognize trauma in this team.”

“I hear you,” Nya sighs, wearily. She nudges his shoulder, rising from her seat near the bed. “Speaking of. Someone’s got something they want to say to you.”

It takes Jay a second, but his eyes widen as Nya heads for the door. “Wait, wait wait wait, don’t you dare—”

“Love you,” Nya says cheekily, before taking her merry leave of the room. There’s a brief scuffle from outside, and the sound of Kai yelping, before Nya shoves him through the door, slamming it shut behind him with a damning click.

For a second, Jay’s tempted to hit the ‘call nurse’ button as hard as he can, in some desperate attempt to escape. Then he gets a good look at Kai, who’s turned a pale, queasy color that frankly looks awful on him, which is saying a lot ‘cause there isn’t much that doesn’t look good on Kai, but the expression he has on now—

Aw, man, now Jay’s feeling guilty and it isn’t even his fault. Stupid moral conscience center, he curses himself.

“So, uh…” he begins, because far be it from him to let this kind of awkward silence stretch on any longer. “Nice, ah, weather we’re having?”

Kai doesn’t respond, staring fixedly at the floor, and Jay sizes up the ‘call nurse’ button again. Just for the both of their sakes, of course.

But then Kai takes a deep breath, blows it out, and rocks back on his heels, fiddling with his hands. “I, um. I’m sorry.”

Jay’s jaw drops open. Which is probably an overdramatic move, all things considered, but unless he’s suddenly lost the ability to understand words, Kai just apologized to him.

Kai apologized. To him.

It’s not that Kai apologizing is some great big deal — Kai might have his pride, but he’s also an intuitive and good-hearted person who knows when he’s messed up. But to him?

Jay knows how he and Kai work. Kai knows how he and Jay work, and he’s breaking the rules. Because Kai and Jay don’t apologize to each other. Unless it’s some awkward expression of sympathy, they’ve never needed to. They fight dirty, aim for each other’s kneecaps, swear eternal vengeance and hatred at each other before storming off, then an hour later Jay’s bounding into Kai’s room to show him dumb meme videos and neither of them even remember what they were fighting about.

Acknowledging said fight with something as gushy as apologizing is not only useless since they both forget what they’re apologizing for anyways, but also useless because it’ll take too much time, and counterproductive on top, because it’ll most likely end in another fight about who apologized better. So for Kai to walk in and say sorry—

“Oh no, who did you kill?” Jay says, paling.

Kai spears him with a look, but it’s so pathetically watered-down and miserable that Jay forgets to glare back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay mutters. “I just—”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Kai interrupts. He hesitates, then sighs. “But that’s fair. I — I was unfair. To you, back there. Like, really unfair, in a bad way, ‘cause you were shot and I know you meant well, but you—”

Kai gestures wildly with his hands, his stream of words cutting off. Jay is left to stare open-mouthed at him again. Babbling like this is Jay’s thing. Kai is breaking all the rules today, huh.

“I just…” Kai trails off, ducking his head. “I don’t like watching you guys get hurt. I don’t — I don’t like watching you get hurt. And I get scared, but it comes out angry, and then I make a mess of things so I’m — sorry. Really sorry, for biting your head off.”

He exhales, a little shaky, fingers balled up in tight fists as his head hangs low, refusing to meet Jay’s eyes. Something softens in Jay’s chest, like gooey melting butter or something else equally pathetic. But it’s rare that Kai vocalizes this stuff, despite the fact that Jay knows he cares, and it’s nice to hear it, so he figures he’s entitled to all the butter he wants.

Jay’s own gaze falters, and the something starts to twist. He bites his lip, tugging half-heartedly at the bandages around his arm.

“Well,” he pauses, thinking of the way his brain had shifted to autopilot when he’d watched Lloyd falter, the razor-sharp shard of terror that always splinters through him when any of their teammates come too close to the awful images of death left in his head. He swallows. “I guess I don’t really have any room to talk,” he murmurs. “Be pretty dumb if I blamed you for that.”

He’s preparing to sink back into his own well of self-pity and loathing, resigned to spending the next few hours until they check him out of the hospital replaying bad memories in his head, when Kai’s next to him all of the sudden, shoving him over on the hospital bed.

“Hey, hey, what’s the big idea—”

“Move, c’mon. You don’t need that much room, you’re a stick,” Kai grumbles, before grinning brightly in success as Jay makes him space. The contrast in expression is enough to startle Jay into silence, and Kai takes advantage. “I know that look. But you already got shot, so you gotta cheer up now.”

“So you’re forcing me into cheerfulness by stealing my hospital bed,” Jay scowls, but the sting is lost in the sudden surge of affection as Kai elbows his way on the bed with him, a steady warmth by his side.

“I’m gifting you my presence, you should be celebrating,” Kai huffs, as he pulls his phone out. “Now stop looking so sad and watch this video I got of a bunch’a geese chasing Zane at the park the other day.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Jay says, but he’s already snickering as he leans his head against Kai’s shoulder to get a better look.

He’s forgotten to tell Kai he forgives him, but like most things between them — Jay doesn’t really need to say it out loud.

#answered #ninjago #my fic #kai smith #jay walker #tumblr pls format right for once #Anonymous

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rein-ette · 3 years

Note

Prompt: 5 times England or Portugal died from being stupid, and 1 time they actually saved each other

I decided I'm going to post it in three parts because 1) once again the word count ran away from me and 2) for some reason I really don't like super long posts on tumblr. So here's the first two parts, outta six. I interpreted the word "stupid"...loosely :D

WARNINGS: blood, graphic descriptions of wounds and violence, character death, and what can definitely be classified as first degree murder

“You should stop drinking.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m serious.”

“There’s a lot of things I should do.”

Gabriel sighed. His head wasn’t exactly clear at the moment either, everything dulled by the three bottles of wine they had pulled from the hold on their way up. But now Arthur was onto his personal stash of scotch and leaning heavily on the railing of the crow’s nest, and — well. Gabriel wasn’t sure if he was sober enough to pull Arthur back if he fell.

“Stand near...here, at the very least.” He mumbled, slapping the mast. Arthur just raised an eyebrow at him. How he managed to look so scornful despite the fact that his eyes couldn’t even focus, Gabriel did not know. Perhaps practice did make perfect.

“I didn’t know you cared enough, darling,” Arthur slurred, now waggling those eyebrows at him. Gabriel had a vague urge to rip them off. “And I’m not drunk. You’re just not drunk enough.”

Gabriel frowned. “I am.”

“Are not. I thought you were sad? So drink.”

“I am sad.” Gabriel stared at the bottle in his hand. He was sad. He just couldn’t...quite remember what about.

Suddenly, there was a blade in front of his nose. Gabriel tried not to go cross-eyed, and flinched back a step. “What the hell?”

Arthur had drawn his dagger and was levelling it at Gabriel’s face. The tip floated sideways every couple of seconds, before Arthur jerked it back. “Let’s practice.”

“No. We’re—no. What?”

Not waiting for a response, Arthur lunged forward, forcing Gabriel back another step. “Arthur, stop.”

“You stop,” he sneered, and then added, “Coward.”

On the next swing, Gabriel pushed forward instead of back and gripped Arthur’s right arm. Forcing Arthur's blade down and away from him, he inwardly congratulated himself on still retaining enough coordination to manage such a thing. Sometimes Arthur got into moods like this and did stupid shit like fight 30 yards up a mast, and at times like this it's definitely up to him to be the responsible one and teach his rowdy boyfriend a lesson.

Intending to do just that, he yanks Arthur around, growling, “Stop! I’m fucking serious—“

In hindsight, Gabriel really didn’t need to pull that hard.

II.

The first thing Gabriel thinks as he slowly comes to is that his trousers are sticking to his leg. The second is that his back is wet, too.

It takes him a moment to realize it's blood.

Everything comes very, very fast after that. The smell. The weight on his legs. The feeling of something embedded in his right calf. And the skin-numbing horror that comes with the knowledge he is lying in a pool of Arthur's guts.

Gabriel tries not to retch as he props himself on one arm. The smell of burning flesh seems to slide straight up through his nose and envelope his skull — all he can taste is that and the iron slicking every inch of his skin.

His elbow is sliding against the floor. Gritting his teeth, he jerks it back underneath him and tries to sit up again, but in doing so inadvertently shifts the body pinning his legs further down and off his torso. There's a dull thud as a head collides with the floor.

It's drowned out by the scream.

Gabriel freezes, muttering every curse and apology he knows. He can see Arthur's back now, the burns that have almost chewed through his right shoulder and entirely consumed his clothes. A shard of wood has gone through Arthur's lower abdomen and into Gabriel's leg, and he must be injured elsewhere as well, because Gabriel can feel something slick and warm and pulsing against the side of his leg and holy mother of god he needs to not throw up right now and think, think, think.

He had told Arthur not to do it. He had said — but it doesn't matter now, doesn't matter when Arthur's breaths are shallow against the wooden deck and cheeks bleeding gray. Gabriel has to get him off so he can carry them out of here, because over the wardrum of his own heartbeat he can hear the snarling of the waves and that hollow, incessant sound that accompanies a dying ship as it's sucked into the sea. They are running out of time.

Somehow, Gabriel frees his legs. At some point as he maneuvers them around Arthur stops screaming with every move and just pants, wet and hoarse in the back of his throat. Small mercies, that Gabriel feels disgusted to be grateful for.

When he finally makes it to his knees and wraps his hands around Arthur's throat, even that rasp disappears. Gabriel tucks his nose into Arthur's shoulder, presses his cheek against the back of his head to give him what comfort he can, and squeezes.

"It's me." He whispers, "it's me, it's okay, love, it's just me. I'm here, sweetheart. It'll all be over soon. I'm here."

He holds his grip until Arthur's nails no longer make their scritch scratch against the floorboards.

Notes

In the second scene, the ship they're on is Arthur's ship. Her name is the Ariel, and she is prone to combustion. I rewrote part 2 like four times and this information was once relevant.

Also I just realized these two scenes are both set on a ship but they're not related hopefully the change in tone made that clear ajsmdndhrnje I might need to fix that

#hws portugal #hws england #engport #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: injury #tw: death #tw: murder #i've always wanted to write mercy kill engport #thanks needcake for giving me an opportunity #fic #once again i post and then proof haha check back in 2 business days for the no typo version #why does tumblr make me add those stupid fuckin dots to get a line space like sdkckajsdnf #request #needcake

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hannigramficrecs · 3 years

Text

Season 2 AU

Eurydice by peppermintquartz [words: 11,324]

Will took Hannibal's offer to leave before the dinner with Jack. They are now in a smaller town, and they have new lives. Will can't decide if this is better than before.

The Fox's Wedding by thehoyden [words: 11,325]

Because Will’s life is bullshit, he gets gently kidnapped from the hospital after Hannibal guts him.

Small Repairs by Devereauxs_Disease [words: 20,945]

It started with a clogged drain. Will put himself in a position to rescue Hannibal's dinner party, hoping to ingratiate himself to the good doctor as he gathered evidence. What he didn't anticipate was how much fun it was to fix things for Hannibal Lecter.

Peccavi by Yggdrastiles [words: 30,067]

After a terrifyingly vivid dream, Will realizes that he's going to need to pick a course of action, and the one he picks no longer involves betraying Hannibal. He knows he'll have to confess because if Hannibal were to discover the original plan on his own, it would tear them apart, and Will's not planning on letting him go anytime soon.

Clarity by luvkurai [words: 11,596]

Because he knows Hannibal is a psychopath, or something similar, and therefore cannot feel affection, at least not in the classical sense. All these tiny things, these tiny methods of expression cannot, by definition, be anything more than another mask, another game to play.

There Was Another Way by TimmyJaybird [words: 8,080]

Hannibal had him, with the knife poised, ready to end the life he had wanted so badly with Will Graham, with the daughter they deserved. Yet, instead of the silence he expected, Will spoke, one simple sentence, "I would have found you." From that moment, reality altered for the three, opening new doors and closing old ones on the life they had allowed to crumble around them.

Bon Appétit by therunawaypen [words: 2,049]

Now that Will is out of prison, Hannibal can continue to transform Will. But what if Will was already transformed? Is Hannibal ready for the New Will?

Something Else by HotMolasses [words: 2,137]

“Because I wasn’t thinking you were going to gut me.” he said. “When you put your hand on my face, stroked my cheek I thought…” the room blurred around the edges because Will had kept his eyes fixed to a single spot on the floor for so long. Now he forced them to look into Hannibal’s face. “I thought you were going to do something else.”

Bad Connections by TiggyMalvern [words: 5,302]

Season two Will takes the seduction further...

Scratch Away the Doubt by miasmatik [words: 4,197]

Will makes his choice. Freddie doesn't like it. Hannibal does.

Absolution by raiast [words: 16,13]

When Will wakes up from a surprisingly unsettling dream, there's only one place he can go to ease the ache inside him.

Tell Me Your Ending by RubyBakeneko [words: 1,723]

Will uses his therapy hour to talk about recent changes in his fantasies. Hannibal tries to avoid spontaneously combusting in response.

I Speak In Smoke Signals And You Answer In Code by coloredink [words: 7,919]

My name is Hannibal Lecter. I am a colleague of Alana Bloom’s. I also do some consulting for the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit.

For All My Pride, You Were the Fall of Me by nobetterlove [words: 13,212]

After being released from the BSHCI, Will grabs the dogs he can't live without and leaves without a trace

Sweetest Surrender by Nera_Solani [words: 3,390]

Fives times Will received chocolate and one time he got something even sweeter.

Envy by AGlassRoseNeverFades [words: 1,681]

A brief vignette on how a conversation between Hannibal Lecter and Matthew Brown might go, after.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #hannibal fanfic #hannigram fanfic #hannibal au #hannigram au #murder husbands #2

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Was wondering if I could request a Dorian x Rogue Reader where the reader’s never really taken part in any sort of pageant event before and needs some guidance from the party’s resident performer? Love your writing by the way! Have a great day!

Thank you and I hope you like this one too. Have a nice day! 😘

Everyone’s picking out outfits, talking about the pageant and having fun doing so. Orym and Fy’ra have gotten out of participating in the pageant but you weren’t as lucky. Wether it’s because Opal is very convincing, you’re easily tempted, the prospects of a shiny crown or Dorian’s persuasion, you don’t know. Might just be all of the above but you’re apparently in now and will be participating and find yourself playing the part of dress up doll for Opal who’s put you in a grand total of twenty-seven outfits varying from big voluminous dresses to nice suits, some of which including some impractical but pretty armour.

Awkwardly you leave the dressing room. This dress she’s put you in is so poofy you can’t even lower your arms to your sides as the sheer volume of tule keeps them at an angle. You’re pretty sure you look about as comfortable as you feel. The only good part about this humongous ballgown is there’s loads of places to hide weapons and stuff you could possibly lift from people’s pockets among the yards upon yards of fabric. Opal is fawning over you, pulling at the fabric flouncing it up to adjust the layers. Dorian notices your feelings about this twenty-eighth outfit and steps in to save you from the pageant expert.

“Maybe not this one? It doesn’t really do much for their figure, wouldn’t you agree?” Opal taps her lips at Dorian’s suggestion. The genasi has a point. The majority of your features get lost in the garment and no amount of accessorising can fix that. She scrunches her brow and nods. You let out a breath of relief hoping to be done with this. Not like you mind shopping but dressing up in this many outfits is exhausting and you can’t wait to be done. Why can’t you just pick a random one off the rack and call it a day? Lesson of the day; never go pageant shopping with a pageant girl. You’ll be at this for hours.

“Yeah. Too much volume. Maybe we should go back to something more formfitting. I think I saw a couple of outfits that would work much better.” Opal’s words make your breath hitch and you keep in a groan at the mention of more things to try on as the girl scurries off to find the things she saw and you’re left with Dorian. Turning to him as you finish staring after Opal and praying to the gods these new outfits she’s looking for would just spontaneously combust before they made their way back to you, you grab the genasi by the cloak, both hands clutching on tightly.

“Save me, Dorian. Please have mercy and save me from this hell.” You beg. Dorian presses his lips together tightly as to not let the laughter escape. He’ll have to admit it’s very funny to see you so completely and utterly out of your element but he also feels for you.

“I reckon we have about ten minutes before Opal returns. Only way to stop her is finds something you like and suits you well. Blow her away with whatever you find. As long as you look as uncomfortable as you feel, She’ll keep coming with the outfits.” Dorian’s right nothing will satisfy Opal as much as you feeling as comfortable and pretty as they know you are, regardless of you admitting it or not. The problem is, you don’t even know where to start looking. This shop, it’s all just a needle in a haystack for you.

“You have to help me find something and quickly! I don’t think I can take another hoop skirt or waistcoat. I might just faint.” Dorian clasps your hands over his and releases your grasp on his cloak. He offers you a confident smile that somewhat eases your fears of the intimidating woman on fashion spree. Dorian pulls you along to the racks, using one hand to browse while holding yours tightly clasped in the other giving it a soft squeeze whenever you look over your shoulder and around to find Opal and her growing heap of clothes.

“So we’ve eliminated any big skirts and traditional suits. How do you feel about something fitted and flowy?” Dorian brushes his fingers over the shoulder of a smocked shirt. You stare down at the poofy mess you’re still stuck in like a butterfly in a net.

“Uhhh, as far away from any ballgowns as we can get please. I don’t mind a bit of a cinch.” You say as Dorian picks up something akin to a corset with set in with decorative chainmail pieces. He holds it up to your body, purses his lips and puts it back not the rack. Not really your style. You need something fierce and practical, something that shows off your features just right but won’t be wearing you and will still make you feel comfortable in your own skin.

Then he spots it. This will look perfect on you. A dark navy blue fitted top with a deep v-neck nearly down to the bellybutton, and fitted sleeves. The matching leather pants also are fitted and somewhat resemble what you normally wear, though these are much less weathered. Over this all goes a very long trained chiffon robe rhinestoned like the night’s sky held together by an ornate silver clasp at the waist. When Dorian pulls it from the rack and holds it up to you you don’t know wether to fear or feel relieved at the look he gives you. Before you know it you’re being rushed back to the dressing room. Dorian helps you out of the monstrosity of the gown you’re in and leaves you to change into the new outfit as he distracts Opal long enough before she can return with the pile she’s gathered.

You never doubted Dorian to have style but this takes it to a whole new level. This is perfect. It fits in all the right places and whatever he said about it showing when you feel uncomfortable in a garment, it’s true as when you see yourself in the mirror that fully disappears and instead you feel confident. It may not have any protective properties like your usual armour does but it sure feels like you could take on the world right now. You’re badass, beautiful and confident.

When you step out of the dressing room you can already see Dorian mid argument with Opal who wanted to barge in, arms filled with clothes of all kind and the shop assistant being with whatever she couldn’t carry, huffing and puffing under the weight of it all. Their attention turns to you. Dorian’s attention turns to you and he doesn’t know how but you take his breath away. You look absolutely stunning. You look like a deity from the stars themselves, the energy you radiate does you justice and if he ever even had an ounce of doubt (he never did) it only shows your natural beauty more than ever.

“Oh. My. Gods.” Opal exclaims as she drops all the fabric in her arms rushing over to you, inspecting your new outfit, gushing about how it fits and how you should style your hair, maybe do some makeup to match the ‘star-effect’ of the robe for cohesion. You can’t even keep up anymore but let her ramble on. She tells the assistant you’d found your outfit and the assistant exasperatedly begins picking up the pile she dropped to put back on the racks. No more fittings for you. Opal’s satisfied and you’re safe. You offer Dorian a look of gratitude and he winks back, not daring to interrupt the fashion tyrant dressed in pink.

——————

Backstage before your turns in the pageant you get a moment alone with Dorian as the two of you watch the other candidates. You’re panicking as Dorian pulls up your hair, adding a comb to keep it in place and add some flare. You have no idea where he got it nor dare you ask right now, just thankful he’s been doing what he can to ease your nerves. This is not your thing. Prancing around like some trick pony is not your thing. You stick to the shadows, at most mingle with society using honeyed words to get what you need or want but this is a whole new world and you feel as if your skills are useless in this environment.

“You’re going to be okay. All you have to do is answer the question. It doesn’t take much more than a charming answer to persuade the judges. No different than persuading a shopkeeper to give you a better deal.” Dorian adjusts the comb before removing his hands and taking a step back to inspect his work. He taps your shoulder and has you turn around. It doesn't take a genius to see you’re nervous and the jitters are clear through your bouncing leg as you sit staring up at him, panic in your eyes and breathing hitching high in your chest visible through your partially exposed collarbones.

“Yeah but getting a better price on potions doesn’t have a crowd a few hundred large to witness it. What if I say something wrong? What if they don’t like me?” Dorian kneels in front of you, stroking your cheek and hand on your shoulder.

“Deep breath.” You do as you feel his thumb run across your cheek, the gesture alone calms your nerves a little bit and pulls you back to this world. You nod to signal you’re good.

“This is no different that the real world. If you say something wrong, own it. Make them think it’s intentional. There’s very few things you could say that you couldn’t own or turn into something funny.” Dorian assures you. You place a hand over his on your cheek and press a kiss to his wrist as a thank you as he continues.

“As for them not liking you, I don’t see how the couldn’t instantly be mesmerised. You are gorgeous, intelligent, resourceful. If they don’t eat you up and admire you for who you are they don’t deserve you.” The next candidate is called to the stage and both of you know you’ll be up soon. You’re glad Dorian’s pep talk is working and you can feel the affection from him. If only he knew how much it means to you to have him here. Then again, you’ve told him plenty of times how amazing he is.

“Why are they walking all weirdly getting on stage?” You raise an eyebrow as the next candidate places one foot directly in front of the other, walking on their tiptoes more than their full feet.

“Watch the hips.” You do as Dorian says and you can see their hips swaying as they walk adding just a little bit more flare to that strut. You have to say, it kinda looks good. Maybe you should give it a try?

“Could you, I don’t know teach me? I know how to sway hips but this, this goes beyond me.” You gesture to the candidate stopping at Ruby to answer the question. Dorian looks a little taken aback but rises to his feet pulling you with him. He never thought he’d ever be teaching anyone how to walk the walk and is pretty sure he’ll get some weird looks from the others but he doesn’t really care if it makes you happy and more confident about this whole pageant. He puts his hands on your hips as you stand facing each other but keeps a bit of a distance between he two of you so you can still take the steps as you would on your own.

“Okay, so first things first. You want to keep your steps on the same line. See it like walking on a narrow ledge or a tightrope. You want to stick to balancing on your toes and keep a bounce in your knees. Don’t lock them too much. Light on your feet.” Dorian guides you forward as he steps backwards with you guiding you along, tapping whatever hip is swaying next. Your movement is a bit rigid at first but before you know it you’re doing it and Dorian steps away to let you strut without his help. You’re a natural. He gives pointers as you turn but you have the walk down in no time.

Then your name is called. The panic returns for a second but is overshadowed by your newfound confidence. You look the part, you got the act down so act the part too. Confidently you strut down to Dorian, give him a seductive look as you stroke his cheek following his jawline. He’s gotta say, he likes this look on you but can see the glee break through your seduction.

“What would I have done without my handsome hero in blue?” You smile and give him a kiss.

“Still be stuck in that dressing room with Opal probably? You look stunning. Go show them exactly what you’re made of.” Dorian encourages you, a hue of purple spreading lightly across his cheeks as he watches for any witnesses to your moment. Holding on to his cheek as long as you can stepping backwards you offer him one last wink and blowing him a kiss before you turn and strut onto the stage ready to play. Who knew pageants could be fun after all.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #exu x reader #exandria unlimited x reader #dorian x reader #dorian storm x reader #critical role #critrole #exu #exandria unlimited

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fic: (above) a boring little pub

“See where that takes us,” Dani mutters. “Sure. Yeah. Smooth.”

She’d said it like it wasn’t nerve-racking in the least, like she does this sort of thing every day. Get up at the asscrack of dawn, trying to remember how to make a pot of coffee she personally feels out of her mind even considering putting in her own mug. Coffee makes her crazy, spikes her already-wild anxiety straight through the roof; she hasn’t tried to brew the stuff since she was fifteen and making a last-ditch effort to get on Mom’s good side.

And, still, it was the best idea she had for Operation Fix Things With Jamie. Four days laying awake thinking, four days with her brain half on the kids, half on making Jamie smile the next time she turned up at Bly, and this was the best she could do. A cup of coffee that, to her untrained eye, looked like muddy water more than anything else.

And she had handed it to Jamie. Just pasted on a smile and thought, Maybe the stars have aligned, and I woke up good at this today. Whether good at the coffee or the talking to Jamie, she wasn’t quite sure--but soon enough, it appeared the answer was “neither”. Terrific. Jamie, still stung from the other night. Jamie, clearly still not ready to leap off a cliff just because Dani reached out a hand.

Who could blame her? Jamie’s maybe the most patient person Dani has ever met, so long as you’re not shredding her gardens behind her back, but she is still a person. A person who has shown Dani an extremely unexpected willingness to listen, but not so much the desire to be jerked around. Dani gets it. There’s nothing she wants less in the world, than to make Jamie feel like a chew toy to be picked up and discarded again on a whim.

Hence, the world’s most insulting attempt at coffee.

And the invitation.

Dani does not have what a thinking man might call “a strong history” with dating. Part and parcel of being with the same person since you were ten, she supposes, and even if Edmund wasn't...right, he was still simple in his own way. The bravest she ever had to be with Eddie was in daring him to kiss her, a desperate, futile bid toward understanding all the girls at school who sighed and groaned over boys. Dani didn’t get it then, didn’t get it when Eddie closed his eyes and puckered his lips and gave her the most exaggerated dry kiss a human mouth can produce. Didn't get it, either, as he improved over the years, though she was tactically aware of him doing so. On a strictly data-driven level, she watched him get better at kissing, at smiling without nerves, at leading her by the hand wherever he felt they should go. And never, not once, did she feel it.

But one night in a greenhouse, wine in her blood and guilt on her lips, and she gets it now. She gets all of it. Jamie’s hands in her hair, Jamie’s mouth opening beneath her own--a symphony only they could hear.

And then she’d gone and ruined it.

So, now she’s here. Standing awkwardly in a small room in a huge manor, poking through the approximately ten outfits she’s been carting across Europe for half a year. She’d been brave with Jamie in ways she’d never considered with Eddie--brave to take her hand, brave to follow her into the dark, brave to kiss her, brave to ask her out on a...on a..

“Date,” she mutters, holding up a pink blouse and remembering Jamie saying wryly, There we are. She shuts her eyes. “Just a date. Normal person thing to do. Nothing to worry about.”

Jamie’s meant to be back here in--she flips her wrist, winces--less than an hour now. Jamie’s meant to be here to pick her up, like they’re teenagers heading off for a Friday night on the town, and Dani must genuinely be losing her mind. She didn't come here for this. She works with Jamie, works here watching the kids, and if she leaves...if she leaves, who knows what will...

A light rap at the door, so soft, she almost misses it. Hannah, gently smiling.

“Everything all right up here? Haven’t seen you in quite some time...”

“The kids,” Dani interjects. “Of course. I’m so sorry, I’ll just--”

Hannah raises her palms in a placating gestures, slipping into the room with a nearly unearthly grace. Why, Dani wonders helplessly, can’t I be like Hannah? So elegant and serene and sure of every step?

“I did not,” Hannah says, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a sisterly little shake, “come up here to scold you. The children are perfectly fine; Owen is running them through the finer elements of...” Her brow creases, some mix of affection and distaste. “Baking chemistry.”

“Oh.” Dani sinks onto the bed, head in her hands. “Of course. So you’re...”

“Here to make certain you aren’t, perhaps, talking yourself out of a nice evening out on the town?” Hannah supplies. She’s too kind to make fun, at least where this level of anxiety is concerned, and Dani is grateful.

“Not talking myself out, exactly,” she says. “Just trying to decide what to wear. I mean, what does a person wear to a pub in Bly with...with...”

“A perfectly charming young woman whose primary uniform involves denim and potting soil?” Hannah’s voice is just a little too innocent. Dani grins.

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“I don’t think,” Hannah says carefully, “there’s much chance of embarrassing yourself so badly, she leaves you alone in that pub. Or fails to return to Bly, perhaps, tomorrow?”

Color floods Dani’s cheeks. Her choice of sweater is suddenly the most interesting thing that has ever happened in this room.

“The children will be just fine with us here,” Hannah continues, blessedly ignoring the way Dani’s shoulders go rigid with mortification. “Owen’s already planning to stay, and you know how Flora goes on about sleepovers...”

She’s smiling, but Dani thinks there’s a bit of distance behind her eyes that wasn’t there last week. A beautiful, kind woman, Hannah; it’s strange to see her even the least bit detached from the goings-on of the house.

“You’re sure,” she presses. “I could still tell Jamie--”

“You could both use the night off, I think.” Hannah pats her shoulder lightly. Dani bites her lip.

“Well, I can definitely make sure I’m back before--”

“Lunch tomorrow?” Hannah interjects. “Yes, I quite agree, that would be perfect timing. Rumor has it Owen’s planning a feast fit for kings and very small children.”

Dani is out of arguments, and she suspects Hannah knows it. Her shoulders slump. “Okay. Okay, good. Glad that’s all...handled. Now...”

“This one, I think.” Hannah pats the light purple, her hand possessed of such surety, Dani is briefly envious. “Brings out your eyes nicely.”

She makes her escape with another smile and a very small wave, and Dani gives herself a minute. Just one minute, sitting on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands, to really process the situation. A date. An actual real date with an actual real person she actually likes. Not just likes, but feels...slightly insane around. Insane in the best way. Stomach in knots, fingertips sweaty for no good reason, ears going hot at the sight of her insane.

Jamie kissed her back. Jamie kissed her like there was nothing she’d like more in the world. Jamie kissed her, and then let her go the minute she didn’t seem ready for it, and even with the worst coffee in England as a peace offering, accepted the idea of a drink with her.

Which means...

“The sweater doesn’t matter,” Dani mumbles, feeling very much as though nothing has ever mattered more.

***

Jamie has never quite done this before, either; she thinks of telling Dani so, thinks of taking a quiet moment before leaving Bly Manor to get ready for a date and come back, sweet Lord, she must be out of her mind, to say, “Hey, no worries, Poppins, this is brand-new territory for the both of us.”

But Dani is busy with the kids, and also sort of looks like she’s going to combust should Jamie stand too near her, so she skulks out to the truck alone instead. The date--it is an actual fucking date, I cannot believe she did this to us, what am I going to do on an actual fucking date with this woman?--is slated for seven in the evening. Jamie’s done working at four-thirty.

She spends about an hour of that in-between time showering, picking out a clean t-shirt--nothing too snappy, don’t want to scare Poppins off again--and jeans and a jacket that ensures she’ll look presentably-cool, and mussing her hair somewhat badly. The rest, she spends pacing.

You know I live above that pub, right? Told you that already. And Jesus, how Dani had smiled, like she’d been thinking of nothing else for four fucking days. Four days Jamie had spent planning ways to distance herself, to stop feeling all of this flappy butterfly nonsense at the mere sight of the woman, and the first thing--first goddamn thing--Dani did upon her return was ask her on a date.

To which she had...said yes. She’d said yes, and now off she goes to pick up her actual, real-live human woman date.

It’s one thing, she thinks as she strides up the drive to the door, to take a woman to bed. It’s a very natural, easy thing, in fact, to take a woman to bed. Strip off your clothes, strip off your inhibitions, get used to the notion of never seeing her again once the sun is up. But this? Dani? Jamie’s never been here before. Never wanted something so badly before.

“Don’t,” she mumbles, pushing the door open, “fuck this up.”

She expects to have to go on a bit of a hunt to track Dani down--maybe to the kitchen, or even (heaven help her) up to her room, but no: Dani is right there. Dani is standing in the foyer in a black skirt and loose-knit sweater, looking for all the world like Jamie just caught her running a trench into the floorboards.

“Hi,” she says, all deer eyes and suddenly grinning mouth. Her hair is up, so very blonde and perfect, Jamie’s mouth goes a little useless at the sight of it.

“Hey. Uh. Are we meant to be speaking with the chaperones, or...”

Dani shakes her head, looking just a little punch-drunk. “Hannah made it sound like we’d be in trouble if we went back there. Owen’s doing something with chemistry?”

“All the angels couldn’t help those kids and their empty bellies now,” Jamie says, “if Owen is fixated on another goddamn chemistry lesson.”

Dani laughs, and suddenly, it’s like a sheen of ice cracks open and all the warmth she’s come to associate with Dani Clayton comes rushing into the room. Jamie reaches out a hand, slides palm along palm until Dani is fitted neatly against her lifeline.

“Shall we?”

She doesn’t say, I’ve never done this. Doesn’t tell Dani any of that. It doesn’t seem important, all of a sudden, not with the way Dani squeezes back and follows eagerly into the passenger seat of her truck.

Jamie, looking at her out of the corner of her eye as she prepares to back out, is struck with the wild idea that maybe they don’t have to leave at all to do this. She could just reach across the seat, lay a hand lightly over Dani’s knee, tell her she’s never met anyone like her. Never met anyone who makes her want to tell sad stories and bad jokes and goodnights that are only acceptable because there will be a good morning to follow.

Date, she reminds herself firmly, though there’s a perfectly nice kitchen, a perfectly nice bedroom, a perfectly nice hidden spot out on the grounds that would do the job just as well. Maybe next time. There are flowers she’s certain Dani can’t go her whole life without seeing.

But tonight: it’s a pub in the tiny village of Bly, where Jamie has lived for years without ever really caring to get to know its secrets. Now, watching Dani look around like she’s just stepped into Oz, she sort of regrets that.

“Usually not too busy on a Thursday night,” she says, guiding Dani with a light hand at the small of her back past what she thinks of as the Attention Grabbing section--the tables up near the bar proper, where the denizens of Bly most like to congregate after work--and toward her own preferred spot. It’s in the back, near a near-secret exit that leads straight up to her flat, and Cal is charitable enough to keep most folks away from it unless the place is full-up. Not a bad guy, Cal; he’s about four hundred years old and insists on calling her Janey, but he’s still got the back for long nights serving bad drinks, and he keeps the rent cheaper than dirt.

“You live here?” Dani sounds like she’s never been more delighted at a prospect. Jamie can’t help but laugh, slinging her jacket over the back of her chair and settling in.

“Thought about asking for a job when I moved in, but luckily Lord and Lady Wingrave got to me first. Not sure it’d suit me, spending every night with the town layabouts.”

She winks at Cal as he shambles past to let him know this is a joke. He snorts.

“Like I’d hire you anyway. Too damn short. Couldn't reach the good stuff.”

“Wasn’t aware you carried the good stuff,” she fires back. Dani, watching this exchange with delight, laughs. Cal raises an eyebrow.

“Your friend’s pretty. Poor sense of character, to be spending her night with a felon, but there’s no accounting for taste.”

The smile on Dani’s lips dies instantly. Jamie swallows a curse.

“Yes, thank you, Grandfather Drunkard, I hadn’t quite gotten to that part of the tale yet. Round to make up for it, if you please.”

He has the good grace to look slightly ashamed, patting her on the shoulder as he winds back to the bar in search of clean glasses. Jamie leans back with a sigh.

“Well, it was bound to come up eventually, I suppose. Frankly, probably for the best he spilled those beans before I could lose my nerve and put off telling you.”

Dani’s brow is creased, less like someone horrified by a glimpse into Jamie’s storied past, more like a white knight ready to draw a sword in her defense. Jamie finds herself reaching across the table, glancing over her shoulder, and touching the back of her hand with two cautious fingers.

“Easy, Poppins, Cal’s a good sort. Our sort, even, if there is such a thing.” It’s a bold stroke, a shot in the dark, but given that Jamie’s already had this woman’s tongue in her mouth, she supposes it isn’t so dangerous to assume. Dani raises her eyebrows high enough to make her laugh.

“He’s--I mean he doesn’t--”

“He’s kind, and he knows the value of a closed mouth,” Jamie confirms. “Says things are better than they used to be around here, but there’s no point courting trouble. Anyway, he won’t say a damn thing when we--if we--”

Cal takes pity on her, delivering a pair of beers and a platter of cold chips, “on the house, as penance for fuckin’ up your evening.” Jamie raises her glass in a salute to his retreating back.

“Did he?” Dani asks. Jamie, glass halfway to her lips, pauses.

“Did he what?”

“Fuck up the evening.” Jamie’s not sure she’s ever heard Dani say the word fuck before, and suddenly feels as though it’s the best single syllable ever to cross her lips.

“Nah. Not unless you’ve, ah, got a problem with felons sharing your table?”

Lifting her own glass, Dani shakes her head. “Not as a rule. I’d like to hear about it, though. If it’s something you’re all right sharing.”

And so Jamie shares. All of it. It isn’t the plan, exactly, but when she gets started, she finds it increasingly difficult to locate a logical place to stop. To explain the prison time, she first has to explain how a young woman finds herself in such a situation; to explain that, she first has to paint a picture of a particular kind of home life. Before she knows what’s happening, she’s leaning across the table and saying names she hasn’t spoken in years. Telling about the coal mine. The other men. The baby. The burn.

Dani listens to it all, enraptured, never interrupting with so much as a question. She makes small noises, nods encouragement whenever Jamie falters, takes small sips of her drink when Jamie pauses for breath.

She doesn’t ask what Jamie did. This, above all else, strikes Jamie between the eyes. She doesn’t ask if Jamie lied, or cheated, or stole, or bloodied anyone along the way (yes, yes to one and all, and if she did ask, Jamie would tell her; they're old scars, the life of someone she feels she barely knows now, and if she’s ashamed, it’s the shame of a distant dream). She only listens, nods, takes it in.

“I figure,” Jamie says when she’s run out of history to unfold between them, “you showed me yours, yeah? It’s only fair.”

Dani raises her glass. “To not being defined by the sins of the past.”

Jamie chuckles, obediently following suit. “To people being the most goddamn exhausting concept on the planet, and trying anyway.”

They drink. They drink, and Jamie thinks, Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ve exhausted the conversation topics for one relationship already. Maybe she’ll finish this glass and we’ll head back to the house, and that’ll be that.

“I’ve never done this before,” Dani tells her. There’s something relaxed about her, something Jamie finds new and deeply interesting. Relaxed is the last word she’d generally used to describe Dani Clayton.

Jamie gestures for Cal, refills following suit in short order. “Been to a pub?”

“Been on a date with someone I...” Dani hesitates. For a split second, Jamie’s sure she’s about to look at someone Jamie can’t sense over her shoulder. Instead, she shakes her head, smiles ruefully. “Someone I felt things for.”

“Things, huh?” She leans across the table, props her chin on one hand, makes a show of tilting her head. “What sorts of things?”

“I think you know.” Dani is blushing. This is maybe the best night of Jamie’s whole life.

“Think you should tell me anyway.”

Dani swats at her, and they’re both laughing with an ease Jamie can’t wrap her head around. It’s one thing to flirt; Jamie’s good at flirting. Comes easy, comes naturally. She’s good at watching for the little buttons in people, the little signs of what makes them laugh, what makes them squirm. Promised herself a long time ago never to use this power for anything less than leaving a room warmer than she found it.

But this isn’t flirting. Not the way Jamie’s done it before. This is something entirely new, entirely specific to Dani. It’s in the way Dani watches her, eyes too blue, jaw held taut like she’s trying to keep something dangerous from spilling out. It’s in the way Dani lets her fingers linger when she reaches for a chip, allows Jamie to brush against her in a fashion that looks utterly innocent from the outside and feels anything but.

Jamie swallows hard, liking the weight of Dani’s gaze more than she’s prepared to admit. Liking the way Dani very slowly, very carefully, moves a hand under the table to press against her knee.

“Bold, Poppins,” she breathes. Dani smiles, so clearly proud of herself and so clearly terrified that it’s all Jamie can do not to lean all the way across and kiss her.

Best not. Cal’s a good man, their sort, but there are others in the pub now. People who wouldn't take kindly to a sight like that. And this night is going far too well for Jamie to waste where it’s going on a bar brawl.

***

Jamie’s flat is nothing like Dani expected. Admittedly, she isn’t sure what to expect when Jamie drains the last of her glass and gives a knowing glance to the exit. A very small part of her thinks this is all going entirely too well--her hand has been under the table, pressed with a confidence she hadn’t known she possessed to Jamie’s knee, for almost fifteen minutes. Even as her thumb traces small circles into the denim, even as Jamie’s eyes go a little darker, her lips parting in a way Dani finds entirely too interesting, she thinks, This isn’t me, is it? She can’t be feeling it, too. No one has ever understood this.

Even so, here’s Jamie, standing a little too quickly. Her chair scrapes back, her jacket swung over her arm, and she’s reaching out. Dani accepts the hand, lets Jamie pull her to her feet. A good idea. A bad idea. The kind of idea that will get them out of the public eye in short order, either way, and Dani can’t think of anything wiser in this moment.

There’s a set of stairs just outside the door, leading up to a second door. Thick brown wood, with double locks Jamie works without really looking. She’s staring at Dani even as her hands move, staring from inches away, and Dani suddenly thinks how good it is, that they came out tonight. How good it is to be away from the house, the kids, anyone else in the world.

“After you,” Jamie says, pushing the door open with a flat hand and gesturing for Dani to enter. Her voice is a little raw, a little huskier than usual. Dani moves past her, arm brushing arm, and just about jumps out of her skin at the contact.

The space is small, sparsely furnished, with a curtain hung to break up the room. In one far corner, a tiny bathroom. In the closest corner, a tiny kitchen, barely broken from the living space by a change in flooring.

Jamie, wearing an expression Dani has not yet learned to decipher, says, “This would be it. The castle, as it were.”

Does she sound embarrassed? Dani can't quite tell. She wants to say there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, this place is small and quiet and somehow perfectly Jamie in its easy nature. There are books, though not many, on a small shelf. There are plants, considerably more, lined up like soldiers guarding Jamie from loneliness.

“It’s a place to lay my head, anyway,” Jamie says, and that is definitely a touch of embarrassment in her voice. Dani shakes her head, moves to join her at the front door, takes her hand.

“It’s yours,” she says, unable to clarify quite why that is so special. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”

It sounds better in her head than it does ringing between them in a space so silent, Dani imagines she can hear the echo of her own voice. Jamie is just looking at her, the way she’d looked the night Owen’s mother passed, like if Dani were to give the word, she’d make a move that would light them both aflame.

She’d been too afraid that night. Was carrying far too much. Even the simple act of touching Jamie at all, of running her thumb across Jamie’s hand, had felt like heroism.

Now, things are different.

She’s got Jamie by the sleeves, hands gripping Jamie’s t-shirt just above the skin of her biceps, and this is what going over feels like. This is what it feels like, Dani thinks, to just let go.

***

Kissing Dani is different here. Back in the greenhouse, Dani had been largely somebody else, Jamie thinks; still Dani, but a version carrying too much on her back. A desperate, hopeful, sorrow-laden Dani who had grabbed at her jacket like it was a life preserver.

This Dani, sighing and squeezing her arms, feels like freedom.

Jamie finds herself spinning them both, pressing Dani against the locked door, liking the convulsive way Dani’s hands fist around her shirt sleeves. Liking the way Dani slides one arm around her neck and leans back just a little, just enough to gaze into Jamie’s eyes, and this is almost too much all on its own. No one has ever looked at Jamie while she was trying to kiss them. No one, not even once, has looked at her with such profound affection.

And want. So much want, Dani’s eyes are stormy with it. Jamie’s grinning, but there’s a fist around her heart squeezing so hard, she worries it might burst.

“All right?” she breathes. Dani could say no. Dani could say no at any time, and Jamie would understand it. Would lean back, comb her fingers through her own hair, offer the bed while she sets up on the couch until the alcohol’s out of both of their systems and the sunrise gives them another chance at it.

Dani, rather than answering, makes a low sound at the back of her throat and finds Jamie’s mouth with an eager, open kiss that sends Jamie’s pulse through the roof.

She hasn’t done this before, she’s told Jamie, but she’s coming to it naturally enough. Her lips are soft, parting for Jamie’s tongue, her hips pushing against Jamie’s body in slow, easy motions. When Jamie rakes her nails down her scalp, fingers pulling the scrunchie from her hair, she responds with such a low groan, Jamie has to bury her face in Dani’s neck for a moment to breathe.

“Sorry,” Dani mumbles. Jamie, shaking her head, laughs against her skin.

“In no universe, Poppins, are you to be sorry right now. About anything.”

She raises her head, looking for signs that Dani is sorry in a more important way, a way that will say stop, back up, let this go for now. Dani takes her face between trembling hands. Kisses her slowly, sweetly, tongue tracing Jamie’s lower lip like the only thing in the world is to memorize her in tiny, hopeful doses.

Jamie sighs, one hand buried in blonde hair, the other finding purchase on the sleeve of a too soft, too tearable sweater. She feels too large for her body all of a sudden, too much adrenaline coursing through her system, and every time Dani turns her head just a little, every time she brushes her nose against Jamie’s and makes that tiny, soul-searing little sound under Jamie’s kiss, she thinks she gets a bit closer to plunging off the edge into something she won’t be able to forget about in the morning.

“You sure?” she asks against Dani’s lips, the words lost when Dani moves an arm around her neck and digs her fingers in hard. She can feel Dani nodding, breathless, and it’s enough. More than enough. Jamie finds she’s walking them backwards, navigating carefully around her small table, her small couch, the shelf upon which she keeps a few precious plants.

With every step, Dani is kissing her.

With every step, Dani is tracing shapes into the back of her neck.

With every step, Dani is pushing in close, like if Jamie breaks for even a second, some beautiful, perfect spell will break with her.

They’re past the curtain now, in the little space where Jamie sleeps and wakes and hasn’t taken anyone since moving in. Dani, forehead pressed against hers, lips swollen, opens her eyes.

“This is--”

“Not much,” Jamie says. On the one hand, she’s glad they came out tonight, glad she’s getting to hear all the little sounds Dani makes as she’s kissed without worrying about eavesdroppers. On the other, there’s nothing inspiring about her flat, nothing to say Jamie can take care of someone. It’s just walls. Just walls and a couple of plants, and for some reason, Dani is looking around like they’ve walked through a mirror into a land of magic.

“Anyway,” Jamie says. “We don’t have to--if you don’t want to--”

***

“Don’t you?” Dani’s heart is in her throat, pounding in her wrists almost painfully hard. Jamie, one arm around her waist, leaning back with flushed cheeks and her bottom lip between her teeth, raises her eyebrows.

“Want to? God, yes.”

Relief, flooding Dani’s body almost hard enough to knock her over. She grips at Jamie with both hands, the slide of dark t-shirt soft under her fingers, and kisses her again. She feels so good kissing Jamie, so good she forgets how nervous she is about the whole thing. Jamie, her hand strong at the small of her back, her fingers brushing just under the hem of her sweater, leans back again.

“Just don’t want to pressure you into anything. S’all right if you’re not up for--”

"I’ll tell you,” Dani promises. If Jamie keeps doing that with her hand, if Jamie keeps tracing the base of her spine with small, reckless movements, she thinks she’ll go crazy. “If it’s too much. I’ll tell you.”

She pushes gently against Jamie’s chest, feeling bold and brave and absolutely petrified of her own actions, and Jamie lets herself fold backwards until she’s seated on the edge of a thin, clean bedspread. Dani follows her down, knees on either side of Jamie’s thighs, sitting carefully in her lap.

“Now what?” Jamie teases, even as she’s sliding both hands up Dani’s sides, firm enough not to tickle as she brackets Dani’s ribs and lets the next ragged breath push against her palms. Dani closes her eyes for a beat, swaying, untethered until Jamie tilts her head and kisses her again. All at once, it’s like being caught at the end of a string. All at once, it’s like being handed serenity.

She realizes she’s moving her hips, rolling them forward against Jamie’s lap, liking the way Jamie’s hands tighten on her body and begin gently pushing her back and forth. There isn’t enough friction to really accomplish anything this way, but it hardly matters; it’s still so much, so much she feels like she’ll come apart anyway. Something this new, a feeling this big, reaching across the expanse of her, consuming her--she thinks she’ll lose something here tonight. Gain something. Tie the two together and be something different come morning.

She used to worry about that, with him. Used to worry that if she ever gave in, ever tried that one last thing to feel how she was meant to with him, she’d be different the next day. She’d be someone else.

This is something else entirely--so much so, she almost can’t breathe around the realization. That she will be different tomorrow, and that she will not be less Dani because of it, but more, somehow. Something more Dani than she’s allowed herself to be in her whole life, because it was chosen here, tonight, with Jamie’s hands on her body and Jamie’s mouth under her own.

***

With Dani in her lap, skirt riding up around her thighs, hips moving restlessly, Jamie thinks for a second they’ve hit a wall. A very good wall to hit, she thinks hurriedly. If this is as far as they go tonight, it’s still worlds past anything she really expected from Dani.

So long as she doesn’t regret it, doesn’t run from me, I could stay here forever.

Dani, who has been kissing her for what feels like forever, breaks contact and just looks at her. Her hand, soft and cautious and more certain than Jamie expects, presses against Jamie’s breastbone. Pushes again. Jamie shifts backwards, inching up the mattress, pulling Dani with her until she’s flat on her back with Dani looking down.

“Up to you,” she says. She likes the simple pressure of Dani’s body atop her own, of soft curve fitting all the spaces where Jamie doesn’t usually think of herself as lacking anything at all. Now, though, knowing what it feels like, how the whole of Dani is pressed flush to her, she wonders if she’ll ever feel complete in this bed again.

“You still--”

“Want?” Jamie’s lips curve. “If you’re asking, there’s something I’m not doing right.”

“I’m sorry,” Dani says, then seems to catch herself. She sighs, smiles, laughs a little in that dizzy, self-conscious way that breaks Jamie’s heart. “This is...as far as I know. This is...”

Jamie nods, understanding. “You trust me?”

***

Dani is nodding, too, liking the way her body is moving almost of its own accord against Jamie’s. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it, hadn’t even realized she was still rubbing lightly against Jamie even as nerves pound through her system.

“Tell me,” Jamie says in a low, urgent tone. “If anything changes.”

She rolls, then, a quick flash of movement that makes Dani shriek-giggle. From this new vantage point, back pressed into Jamie’s mattress, head on Jamie’s pillow, she feels suddenly so much more intimate than while straddling Jamie’s lap. Doesn’t make sense, she thinks with a thrill of such powerful lust, all she can do is grab again at Jamie’s shirt and hold on. But this is hers, and I’m here, and she’s...she’s...

“Tell me,” Jamie says again, a quiet command that drags soft nails up Dani’s back. She shivers, nodding, and Jamie takes the lead at last.

***

She hadn’t thought, somehow, about this part. Not in so many firmly phrased words. She’d thought about the shape of it, of Dani in her flat, of Dani in her bed, of Dani kissing her, touching her, but somehow, this part slid away every time it tried to rise in her mind.

The part of the show where clothes go away. The part of the show Jamie has always liked the most, and the least, at the same time.

Dani is kissing her when she slides both hands beneath the sweater, easing it up, giving Dani ample time to pull away. Dani, instead, sits up just enough to allow the sweater to rise over breasts, shoulders, head. Jamie drops it off the bed, leans back on her knees, smiles.

“Is there...” Dani isn’t covering herself, exactly, but there’s a sort of nakedness to her expression that has nothing to do with clothes disappearing. “I mean, am I--”

She leaves it unspoken, a bit embarrassed: right? okay? enough?

“Perfect,” Jamie tells her. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

She takes the hem of her own shirt in her hand, waits, pleased when Dani sits up and covers that hand with her own searching fingers. She doesn’t want to go anywhere Dani isn’t willing to take her, and she certainly doesn’t want to deprive her of the small moments that make a first time with someone else so electric. When Dani guides the shirt up over her head, it’s like Jamie’s never done this, either--no woman has ever just looked at her, eyes steady and searching, in a moment like this.

Women are usually the fast, nervous, lights-off-don’t-talk kind of souls in Jamie’s bed. Touch me, kiss me, don’t look, don’t ask questions, don’t act like you want to be here. But Dani is looking at her with lips parted, hands tracing the lines of Jamie’s neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Her fingers are shaking so hard, Jamie covers them with her own, pulls them to her lips.

“One thing at a time,” she says quietly. “Anything’s too much, we pull back.”

Dani pulls at her, guiding Jamie’s hands back to work the clasp of her bra, to cover her skin with soft, careful strokes. She arches into Jamie’s hand and whimpers, and Jamie thinks there was no way, no way she could have predicted any of this. Not as it is. Not as Dani is letting it be.

***

She’d thought, back in the greenhouse, that Jamie’s kiss was enough to drown in. That Jamie’s lips traveling from her mouth to her throat to her ear was enough to drive her wild enough that she’d forget her own name.

It’s nothing compared to Jamie kissing her now, holding her with gentle hands as she explores every inch of skin she can reach. She is all tongue, all soft bite, all lips on shoulder, on pulse, on everything Dani has never been able to imagine letting someone else even look upon.

Here, Jamie’s jean-clad legs intertwined with her own bare ones, her skirt rucked high, Dani thinks maybe this is the best it could possibly be. To be in Jamie’s bed, with Jamie’s hand light on her breast and Jamie’s kiss burning hot as she travels lower, as she moves like they’ve got all the time in the world, is maybe the best the world could ever get.

Every so often, Jamie raises her eyes, and Dani feels something hot and tight clutch in her stomach. Jamie, asking if this is all right. Jamie, sucking a mark into the skin of her belly. Jamie, one hand moving lower so slowly, Dani sort of thinks she’s going to scream.

***

She’s trying to go slow, trying to take this as easily as she possibly can, but every inch of Jamie is on fire. Part of her is hyper-aware of the reality of the situation: that Dani is nervous, that Dani is special, that Dani is someone Jamie couldn't bear hurting even on accident. And, more: that Jamie’s scar is out on display, that Jamie’s home is out on display, that Jamie is more visible and vulnerable with shirt off and jeans on and mouth pressed to the smooth arc of Dani’s stomach than she’s been in years.

When Dani takes her by the wrist, she’s sure they’ve gone far enough--that the heat between her own legs will have to wait, that Dani is going to roll off the bed and scramble back into her sweater and away from--

Her hand, wrapped around Jamie’s, slides beneath her skirt.

Her fingers, wrapped around Jamie’s, guide her to press against damp underwear.

Her back arches. Jamie groans.

“Okay,” she breathes, looking up at Dani’s too-blue eyes. “Okay, getting the picture.”

***

She didn’t know. Didn’t have the first idea what this would feel like. Didn’t have even the remotest frame of reference, and if she were anywhere else, if she were with anyone else, maybe she’d still be too keyed-up to find out.

But Jamie is sliding back up the bed, hand rubbing soft, testing circles between Dani’s legs, and yes--she thinks she’s starting to understand at last.

She kisses Jamie hard, without care of how she looks or being even the least bit smooth, her own hand fumbling toward the zipper of Jamie’s jeans. No time like the present, she thinks with a truly unexpected delight, pleased when Jamie spreads her legs and shifts her hips to help her ease between cloth and skin.

“Right for it,” Jamie pants in surprise, and Dani is too invested to feel embarrassed. Jamie is soft under her hand, wet, hips jerking to match her clumsy movements. She closes her eyes, concentrates on trying to mirror what Jamie’s doing with her own considerably more nimble fingers. Tries to match her in slow, gentle pressure--then a little faster, as Jamie sucks breath through her teeth--and faster yet, when Jamie presses up in a way she doesn’t fully expect.

She doesn’t even realize she’s losing control until she’s already halfway gone, her hand tripping and fumbling as Jamie uses two fingers and a series of quick, rhythmic motions to set a pace Dani can’t help but follow with her hips. She realizes she’s rolling onto her back, arching, making noises she’s never heard from her own lips, and Jamie rolls to follow, kissing those noises into muffled joy.

Jamie rides out the spasms with her, keeping her hand exactly where it is, slowing to a gentle rest of fingertips against ruined underwear. Dani’s vaguely aware her own hand is still down Jamie’s pants, no longer moving. She exhales.

“I--”

“S’all good,” Jamie says, her smile edged with something Dani thinks looks rather smug. “First time. Takes practice.”

***

It doesn’t surprise her, Dani falling asleep soon after. There were some mumbling sounds about reciprocation, about fairness, about wanting to feel Jamie twitch and groan under her fingers--but Jamie, jeans unzipped, feeling rather good about herself, only pulled her in close. Kissed her slowly. Let her fade into a gentle doze against Jamie’s shoulder.

Good, Jamie thinks, though her skin is buzzing and there is an ache she hasn’t felt in a long time low in her belly. Rest, Poppins. There’s always tomorrow.

If pressed, she couldn’t say why she feels such pride, such easy pleasure, watching the way Dani sinks into sleep in her arms. Maybe because Dani hasn’t looked like someone with the benefit of a good night’s sleep since Jamie met her. Maybe simply because Dani feels perfectly safe, perfectly notched against Jamie in this small bed.

Either way, it feels right, Dani’s warm breath spilling across her bare skin. It feels right, even in this dumpy little flat above the only pub in Bly, though Dani is surely too good for a place like this.

Maybe not for someone like me, though, Jamie thinks blearily, too pleased and too tired to pile upon that idea the weight of a lifetime not being good enough. Past doesn’t matter, not with Dani. It’s different, with Dani.

She drifts. Tomorrow, they’ll wake to sunlight streaming through thin curtains, and maybe Dani will be a little embarrassed about everything they’ve done--maybe she’ll want to talk about it, or want to pretend it never happened, and Jamie will figure out how to handle the pain of that then.

She falls asleep thinking this is possible--but somehow knowing it isn’t likely. Isn't Dani. It’s too early to know a thing like that, but all the same, Jamie is pretty certain there will be no mortified scramble for clothes, no pushing her aside as Dani runs for the door, no awkward small talk on the ride back to the house.

She does not anticipate, upon waking, Dani kissing her cheek. Kissing the corner of her lips. Kissing her neck and murmuring, “Morning...” with a question on the end of the word Jamie can’t help but laugh at before she’s even fully awake.

“First thing, huh?”

Dani smiles at her, the smile of a woman who selected this very date venue not out of any polite curiosity about a small village pub, but because this particular bed existed above it. “Takes practice, you said.”

Jamie inhales sharply as a hand cups very lightly against the front of jeans that feel entirely irrelevant. “I did. Yeah. I definitely did.”

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jame x dani #all right all right something happy for once #for all the many anons who've been asking for the pub date #knew I'd get around to it eventually

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kacchanrawr · 3 years

Text

Things I want to see in the future of MHA

(not just post-war stuff, but also the entire series. Some of these are kinda self-indulgent)

1. Endeavor and Hawks’ judgment

I honestly don’t know if I want to see them punished or pardoned. I’m interested in both of those so I’ll just trust Horikoshi on that one. But anyways, there’s no way they aren’t getting shit for this.

2. Whatever the ‘fake heroes’ are gonna do after this

Going back to Stain’s ideology about fake heroes. I agree with parts of it, there are a lot of people that become heroes without the conviction. They get into it by treating it the same way as any other office job, not as a mission to be well, heroes. But I don’t agree that they should be killed or eliminated. Being a hero for money isn’t inherently a bad thing, it’s when you let greed take over you to the point that you forget what it means to be a hero. Some of those ‘fake heroes’ like Mt. Lady who was originally in it for the fame and money have grown to become real heroes. Others who really have zero conviction, will probably quit after facing this amount of despair, like the guy in chapter 296.

3. The Todoroki family’s image

How will everyone else see the victims of the situation, Natsuo, Fuyumi, Rei and Shoto after this? Especially Shoto. Now that his past is out in the public, that will probably affect his future as a pro. Would his classmates and peers see him or treat him differently after this? Like out of pity or sympathy?

4. The public’s backlash in general

How will the public start viewing not just Endeavor, Hawks, and the Todoroki family, but all heroes? Will they lose faith in heroes? We know they kinda already are when UA had a lot of backlash when Bakugo was kidnapped. UA as well, will it get shut down?

5. Bakudeku’s talk

I don’t think their relationship is actually gonna stay the same after this whole ‘my body moved on its own because I care for you and wanted to save you so I just got stabbed and risked my life for you and even told you to stop trying to be so selfless and do everything by yourself’ thing. All Might also did foreshadow that they were gonna talk soon. Maybe we could get the long awaited Bakugo apology scene ? Though it feels way too soon. And if Hori feeds us Bakudekus even more I think we’re just gonna combust.

5. Deku’s character development

His mindset and view of the world will probably be way darker and even more serious after this. I also want to see how Bakugo getting hurt for his sake and saying “don’t play hero all by yourself” will affect him. We know that he has decided to become a hero that wouldn’t make anyone worry about him when he had a flashback of his mom crying and being worried for him. He decided that the solution to that is to be stronger, but now maybe he can learn that selflessness doesn’t necessarily mean that he has to carry all the weight by himself. But then there’s the 4th user’s quirk that will probably push him to be even more selfless.

6. Ochako’s development

Please please PLEASE let this girl have more development. The way her fight against Toga ended, and her seeing the grievous side of being a hero? Probably a set up for her development.

7. Basically the rest of the kids’ development?

Obviously it’s not just the people involved in the fight against Shigaraki, or Ochako that are gonna view the world differently after this. I wanna see how they will deal with this. Kirishima and Mina will probably be some of the highlights. Also Momo, since Midnight meant a lot to her when she was the one that trusted Momo to lead their classes in the battle against Gigantomachia.

8. Aizawa and Present Mic dealing with Midnight’s death

Those two are especially highlighted amongst all of the other UA staff members because they have a past with her, as shown in vigilantes. We saw their anger and sadness about Shirakumo, what more when it comes to Midnight?

9. The villains dealing with their losses

Yes, know Toga went on a rampage after Twice’s death, but how will she and deal with it in the long run? How about losing Mr. Compress? How will Shigaraki react to both of those, and having the other Paranormal Liberation Front members like Geten captured? Not just emotionally, but how about the loss in terms of strength and power?

10. Prison break arc

People have been talking about this for years, maybe ever since we knew All for One was only imprisoned and not killed. We’ll probably see it happen next chapter. Will it cause the public to lose even more faith in the hero system? How will it affect the villains? Will AFO be their boss now, or will they resist him and stay loyal to Shigaraki?

11. All for One vs Shigaraki

Related to the previous point. We know Shigaraki really doesn’t want AFO bossing him around. They’ll probably have a fight. Maybe Deku and Shigaraki vs AFO? Then they’ll go back to fighting each other once the common threat is gone. This doesn’t feel very likely, but it could be a way of interpreting Deku’s “you looked like you needed saving” at the end of chapter 295.

11. Deku’s arms?

I don’t know if I want him to lose them and get prosthetics, or get healed by Eri. It would be great to see him experience a major loss, but ability-wise and emotionally? Not so good for him, though that’s kinda the point. Also he might not be able to use OFA in his arms anymore and I kinda don’t wanna see that. Even if he can, will he be able to use it at 100%? So far, we’ve seen that the level of technology in MHA aren’t enough to withstand 100%

12. Deku mastering One for All

I wanna see him consistently use 100% without injuring himself. I want to see him do more with black whip, float and the fourth user’s quirk. I’m also curious about the other three quirks left.

13. Power buff for everyone else

I kinda don’t wanna see the MC getting so ahead of everyone else, to the point that they leave everyone else in the dust. But I know that it’s been established way earlier on that Deku will surpass everyone in terms of strength. Even now, Bakugo, one of the strongest in Class 1-A could barely catch up with 30% OFA. But from his internal dialogue in chapter 293, I’m guessing he already had a quirk evolution when he saw Deku at the verge of death. I want to see more details on that though.

14. Everyone else’s reaction to Bakugo’s sacrifice

It’s gonna be a big thing for his character and all, but I don’t think this is gonna happen because of well, everything else being a mess. But maybe at least All Might’s?

15. Deku’s father

I don’t want him to be a really big famous, important figure, or someone involved in this whole AFO vs OFA stuff. It will kinda ruin Deku’s character of like, ‘just an ordinary boy that was lucky and so his character arc is to be worthy of that blessing’. If Deku’s father was someone like that, that would mean he was the fated or chosen one in the first place anyways? But what else can Deku’s dad be? I honestly don’t know.

16. All Might’s death

I see so many people complain that he should’ve died in Kamino, but I disagree because saving that big moment for later was actually a good decision. We know he’s gonna die, he has death flags everywhere. But I wonder how exactly he will die, when he will die, and how big of an impact his death will have.

17. The final battle

As in, the last battle of the entire series. Deku vs Shigaraki rematch, Ochako vs Toga, Shoto vs Dabi. And for Bakugo, well...... he doesn’t really have a villain nemesis? (Huh maybe I’ll talk about that some other time) But the best I could think of right now is Bakugo and Deku vs Shigaraki, like in Heroes Rising. If the Heroes Rising ending was the original series ending, maybe Hori was hinting that Bakugo and Deku will be fighting the final boss together?

18. Bakugo and Deku as a hero duo

Related to the previous point. Shipping lenses aside, I think there’s plenty of foreshadowing for that? Even if they wouldn’t officially be hero partners, I’m guessing they’re both gonna be important pillars. “Win to save, save to win”

19. The ending

I want to see how they will fix the broken hero society. I want to see Class 1-A as wonderful heroes. I want satisfying closure for the villains as well. What I don’t want to see is everyone getting married and having kids like Naruto, and those kids being the characters for a sequel series. I’m sorry but as much as I like a lot of the ships, I think that’s probably one of the worst endings possible. But a next generation sequel actually wouldn’t be that bad if the main characters were the established kid characters we already know and love, Eri, Kota, Katsuma and Mahoro. We can see through them how the new hero system/society works, and maybe all the smaller subtle stuff that they still need to patch up. Other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else good about it.

20. Deku becoming the greatest hero

Also very much related to the previous point but I only remembered it afterwards. We know it’s gonna happen, but how? Also notice that while Bakugo always says ‘number one hero’, Deku always just says ‘greatest hero’, which kinda aren’t the same thing. Maybe it’s just cuz I’m a Bakugo stan, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to just let the rival characters be content with number two? Either ‘Bakugo is the number one in ranking while Deku is the greatest hero’, or ‘Deku is the greatest and number one hero but their rivalry hasn’t ended and it’s a push-pull’ thing. Or just kill one of them (cough Bakugo cough) and it’ll be fine.

21. Other people finding out about OFA

I don't think it's going to stay a secret between Deku, Bakugo and All Might anymore. At the very least, the people involved in the fight against Shigaraki, like Shoto, Aizawa and Endeavor should be given an explanation on why Shigaraki was targeting Deku in particular. At worst, it becomes public news and Deku will now have to deal with a much a greater pressure of everyone expecting him to take up All Might's mantle. I'd rather go with the former, but the latter is also interesting I guess. Or if not those, they'd have to come up with a really good excuse.

Anyways that’s all I can think of for now? There’s probably way more at the back of my head. I’ll just edit whenever.

#mha chapter 296 #bnha chapter 296 #mha #my hero academia #bnha #bakudeku #bkdk #deku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #todoroki shouto #todoroki family is screwed #endeavor and hawks #just random ramblings #mha theories #well not really but kinda

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ciggylungz · 4 years

Text

Show me yours

Blurb night- 1.8k words

(Request: Maybe more catholic school H but there bestfriend and there both v innocent and its their first time trying _______ (whatever you want) just a thought? (For the possible blurb night.)

“Did you hear what Lily was saying about Connor?”

y/n looked up when she heard Harry’s voice, the two of them in his room trying to finish their shared art project. They had to do a joint painting of the schools logo for the competition being held to pick a new art piece for the Catholic school. Y/n was currently trying to fix her minor mishap of mixing the purple too dark on the lower corner of the canvas.

“No? what happened?” her attention was divided between the art and Harry’s bite of gossip he was finding the correct verbiage for. “Lily said her and Connor did it!” his tone was slightly lower, whispering the last word so no one would hear a slight blush creeping onto his face. The revelation made the girl snap her head towards her best friend, eye’s widened a bit. The two of them were rather sheltered, they had attended the same private Catholic schools from the time they were in kindergarten up to the present as they were both in their second year of secondary school. The most rebellious thing they’ve ever really done was taking a second sip of the communion wine during mass, so hearing that their classmates may have had sex was very shocking to the pair.

“No way!” the project now took a backseat, y/n now fully invested in the drama Harry was relaying to her. “I swear! She said they did it in the bathroom!” , “Oh my gosh!...did she say anything like detailed?” the girl was just as nosy as her best friend. She wanted every drop of information she could squeeze from him. Harry smiled awkwardly, nervous repeating the words he’d heard from the two teens in question. “Uh…well she said they had s-sex in the bathroom, and Connor said she uh…’went down’ on him at his house..” while y/n knew the basics of sex, she didn’t exactly know much beyond ‘sex is between two married people and makes babies’ , so she questioned his revelation. “what does that mean?” , Harry wasn’t sexually experienced by any means, he was a kiss-less virgin but he would be lying if he said he didn’t know what certain sexual acts involved…he may be a good boy but he’s also a teenage boy with internet access.

His blush grew a few shades darker, opting to clear his throat and make sure the door was closed while he tried to find his voice again. “Uh..well-“ a uncomfortable chuckle escaped him while he tried to choke out the dirty words. “It’s when a girl puts their mouth on a boys private parts…” Y/n gawked at Harry, totally shellshocked at the fact that was a thing! She couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to do that, “Wait what?! Isn’t that dirty? Don’t you pee from there?!” the girl was now standing on her feet her innocent mind trying to comprehend this new information. “Well…yea but I don’t think it’s dirty? If you don’t shower maybe, and the boy doesn’t pee in their mouth…” a nervous hand reached up to scratch the back of Harry’s flushed neck.

“that’s so…weird….h-have you ever done that?” Y/n asked him with a slight bow of her head locking eyes with him, “No! I’ve never done it! I’ve just s-seen it before tha’s all…” the boy shifted uncomfortably, “You’ve seen it? Where?”

“in…porn”

Once again, a comically dramatic gasp ripped through the air from Y/n. she knew of porn, her brother had gotten caught watching it once and that’s the first time she found out people have sex on camera. That was another huge shock to her, yet this one seemed bigger.

“You watch porn?!”

“shush! you’re going to get me in trouble y/n” Harry shot her a glare, yanking her forward to sit on his bed with him, his palm moving to cover her mouth. “Don’t yell that! It’s a secret” Harry cast a nervous glance towards his shut bedroom door before removing his hand from her face. Y/n giving his chest a nice swat with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that again, jerk” Harry simply rolled his eyes. “Then stop being so loud!”

Y/n pouted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. “Or what?” she challenged “Or ill glue your mouth shut.” His fingers moved to flick her forehead, which was a mistake since Y/n then chose to start yelling “MISS AN-“ yet she was silenced by his hand once more. “I’m serious Y/n stop it!”

Y/n suddenly got an idea, decided she’d bargain her way out of this one.

Harry knew that look, his eyes widened realizing she was about to suggest something that he may not want to hear. Y/n was a sweet girl, but she had a bit of a bossy side too.

“If you show me the video, I won’t tell.”

Well, Harry expected something, but definitely not that one. “W-wait what?” he couldn’t believe Y/n had just asked him to show her porn! What was he supposed to say? He knew if he showed her he’d have to take a cold shower, but he didn’t want his mom knowing he watched the videos either. “If you show me the video I won’t tell.” Her statement was very level, the angelic doe eyes coming back to persuade him, and well Harry was a sucker for that look.

Soon enough the pair were sat against his headboard, Harry’s laptop open to a private tab with Pornhub opened on it. He chose on of his favorites, a simple pretty tame blowjob video.

“are you sure you want to see it?” his palms were sweating, knees twitching every few minutes trying to control himself and keep his pants from tightening. “Play it, Harry.” Y/n took control, tapping the space bar to start the video.

The logo played before it got to the video, a man sitting on his couch filming his girlfriend kneeling in front of him slowly moving to undress the man in front of her. Y/n watched the screen intently while the woman went to work, tugging the mans cock free and stroking it but Y/n being Y/n the video didn’t suddenly change the atmosphere like it does in a romcom, instead she was full of questions and comments.

“Wow, I didn’t know boys privates looked like that. It looks kind of like a snake.” Harry was happy Y/n wasn’t making the situation too serious, laughing a little breaking the tense atmosphere listening to her talk. He tried to focus his gaze more on the wall in front of him then the porn playing on his computer so he didn’t pop a stiffy in front of her. “Uh…kinda? I guess…” , “Does your penis look like that too?”

Harry choked on air a bit, suppressing a cough. He sweats he can feel himself burning alive from the blush on his face. “I don’t think my penis looks like a snake y/n, no. I think it looks like a penis.” His response got him a ‘hmph’ from his friend which he of course, laughed at. Yet he wasn’t entirely prepared for her next sentence.

“Show me yours?”

This time Harry’s eyes were the ones wide as saucers, his jaw slightly slack and body gone tense. “What?!” Y/n giggled, finding his reaction a bit silly since they were already watching two people engage in oral, how is this any more shocking? “What? Show me yours” she shrugged slightly, Harry was trying to keep his head from exploding but an idea popped into his brain right before the urge to combust took over.

“I show you mine, you show me yours?”

“Harry I don’t have a penis.” Y/n replied with a ‘duh’ eye roll, causing an annoyed groan to come from her friend. “I am aware of that, smarty pants. I mean…if I show you my penis, you show me your boobs.”

He expected to get a smack or a immediate refusal from her, but surprisingly Y/n nodded, “That’s fair, I’m not putting your penis in my mouth just for the record.” She gave him a pointed look as her hands traveled up to loosen her uniform tie and start fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

The boy felt frozen in place watching his best friend start to undress in front of him. His teenage boy mind was going crazy, this was the first time he was going to get to see boobs in person, he was a bit scared he might keel over and die from a hormone overdose.

“What are you waiting for? You’re supposed to show me yours. I’m not taking my boobs out if you’re not holding your end of the bargain up ,Harry.” Y/n’s hands stilled, giving him a pointed look that broke his trance quickly fumbling with his pants to shove them off his hips the outline of his plumping cock showing against the white and grey checker print of his boxers.

“Who’s gonna go first?”, his throat felt painfully dry while he talked swallowing hard after he finished. “You duh!” the girl pushed his shoulder lightly and pointed to his crotch waiting for him to reveal himself.

The boy took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged his cock through the flap in the front of his underwear. He grunted quietly, the cold air hitting his swollen tip. For a few moments nothing was said, Y/n quietly observed his organ taking in the details and pondering her thoughts before speaking, “Yours looks better than his, it’s prettier. Still kind of looks like a snake though.”

Harry sighed, he was glad she didn’t make a comment on his size or anything negative but the snake comment wasn’t exactly the erotic language he needed to get himself off, and then he remembered the deal. “Your turn.”

Y/n nodded, giggling a little bit as she unhooked the clasps of her bra and let them slip down her arms. Her breasts finally came into Harry’s view and god his balls were already constricting. He feared he’d really be the guy who cums in 2 seconds just looking at a girl, but this would be the right situation for it. Y/n didn’t have any clue how long boys lasted so if he was to bust then she probably wouldn’t tease him she’d just have more questions.

“God…they’re pretty Y/n.” The girl smiled shaking her chest a little so they bounced in front of his eyes. “Thanks, I grew them myself. I’m a b cup” she was adorable, so blissfully unaware of what she was doing for him. A smile and playful giggles still radiating from her while he was trying to keep himself from passing out.

“Can I touch-“

His request was soon cut off, not by Y/n but by the door swinging open and his shocked mother standing behind it.

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