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safyresky · 1 year

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Shadowy Snippets: Lil' Jacqueline + Big Bro Jack

I thought y'all might appreciate these lil snippets from Into the Shadows ft. tiny Jacqueline and a much younger Jack lol. Fun Fact about ItS: It is seemingly becoming a tscs fix-it fic (sorta) lmao. Anyway, enjoy!

---

“Again? You said again, Jack,” Santa said between pants. “What do you mean?!”

“Sixteen hundred years ago, we created the Legate Law. Do you know why Santa? Do you know what prompted us to unanimously agree it needed to be done?”

“Just in case something bad happened to you guys, right?”

“Because something bad happened to us, Santa.” Jack slowed down, stopping off to the side to let the frantic kits hop by. “The Council was very different then. Roy and Asim, our Tooth Fairy and Sandman, weren’t on it yet. But I was. And I was there when it happened.”

Santa’s mouth fell open. “No.”

Jack’s face fell, uncharacteristically serious. He nodded. “Yes. I was much younger, of course,” he said thoughtfully. “Smoother face, maybe a bit of baby fat, still,” he said with a shrug. He looked off to the left, deep in thought. A soft smile crossed his face. “I was out with Jacqueline,” he said warmly. “We’d sneak off at night for practise.”

And it had been a nice night for practise. The skies were clear; stars twinkled, and in North America it was quiet and crispy—perfect conditions to practise some literal frosty shenanigans.

Jack had brought them to a forest-y area, with lots of surfaces to dust; Jacqueline had been jumping with excitement the entire way! She had just done a large spruce all by herself, jumping for joy when the tremor hit.

“Uh, Jack? What’s happening?”

The young sprite had stopped, her hands still raised mid clap as she looked down at the shaking ground. She wobbled a bit.

“Steady Jacqueline! Remember your stance.”

“Right!” she said. With a determined nod and fierce look of concentration, she steadied herself, legs out in the smallest horse stance Jack had ever seen. He stood still too, waiting for the tremor to stop; in the distance, there was a crack. It was sharp, and a little more earthy than the cracking sounds of ice he was accustomed to.

The shaking stopped, finally; Jack looked around, alert as could be. Something was not right.

“I thought we couldn’t do earth stuff?”

“We can’t.”

“But what if I did? OH! What if I’m actually like Mother Nature and I can throw ROCKS with my MIND!”

Jack looked behind him. He couldn’t help the silly grin when he saw Jacqueline jumping around in a circle, making little whoosh noises as she moved her hands about, trying to move the rocks. He let out a little laugh. “Come now Jacqueline, quickly. Hop up,” he said, squatting a bit.

“Okay!” she said, jumping onto his back. He stood up once he felt her cold little frosted fingers around his neck. Grabbing her legs and hoisting her up, he tapped his foot. Below them, a sheet of ice spawned into existence; he slid, the ice forming in front of them as they went.

Expertly, he dodged trees and ducked branches, Jacqueline squealing on his back. It was getting brighter up ahead. Was there a clearing?

He stopped. The light was moving. Towards them. Fast. And it was very much blinding.

“Close your eyes, Jacqueline!” he shouted, spinning around quickly. The golden light washed over his back, Jacqueline’s grip tightening as the golden dust engulfed them. Jack looked at it closely; the little Z’s were unmistakable.

And they were tinged with a soft lilac.

His heart dropped.

The moment the light washed over them, he turned back around, sliding even faster now. Finally, they reached the pond they had passed earlier. He stopped, looking around them. Though the area was intact, the air was heavy with…something.

“It feels weird,” Jacqueline said, pulling herself up to sit on Jack’s shoulders, looking around. “It’s icky. But also good. But also it’s kind of sad,” she said, her voice wavering.

Jack reached up, squeezing her hands. “It’s okay, Jacqueline.”

He scanned the pools; he turned his attention to the waterfall, and gasped.

It had split. What had once been a long, albeit tiny waterfall was now split right in half in the queerest of ways. There were two streams; one still trickled down into the pool below. The other one shot off to the side, a bit of the water trailing off into the main waterfall, but the majority of it disappearing down, down, down into what looked to be a very deep, dark, tall hole.

What had happened?

“Don’t you gotta do something?” Jacqueline asked, gently tugging on his spikes.

“I am doing something! I’m investigating. Keeping my eyes peeled for anything...weird.”

She gasped suddenly. “Jack! Look! Over there! What’s that shiny thing?”

He followed her point with his gaze. Sure enough, by the base of the rocky enclosure, something glinted in the moonlight.

Jack walked towards them, carefully. He gasped.

It was a pair of goggles. A pair of very familiar googles. One of the lenses was cracked; but there was no doubt about whose they were.

They were Tooth Fairy’s.

He bent down and picked them up, carefully. The lenses glimmered; he angled them away from the moonlight. He frowned at his three reflections in the glass. They frowned back. Their Jacqueline’s looked down at him, concerned.

“Jack?”

“You don’t see Tooth Fairy around, do you?” he asked, getting up.

Jacqueline swivelled on her perch, looking around the clearing. She looked right up, Jack putting a hand on her upper back in a nick of time. “Nerp.”

Well that probably wasn’t good.

“We’ve gotta get Mother Nature,” he decided.

He clenched the goggles tight in his fist. Turning around, he ran back in the direction they came in, Jacqueline holding on for dear life as they ran into the brush, disappearing in Jack’s customary blue sparks and snowflakes.

The moon was high in the sky. The light from the sun bounced off of it, shinning in the reflection of the pool below it, the water sparkling and splashing. Droplets from the falls hit the calm lake, the moon’s reflection distorting briefly.

---

She was already awake when Jack and Jacqueline barged into the Garden.

They both looked winded; Jacqueline's hair had fallen out of her plaits, all sticky outty as she held onto Jack’s neck for dear life.

“Mother Nature!” he was shouting, nearly crashing into her as they crossed paths.

“Jack dear, whatever is the matter? The two of you look a little worse for the wear. Is everything okay?”

“Absolutely not!” Jack said, almost gleefully. “I would just like to start with a quick little disclaimer. We didn’t do it! Honest! We were out practising—”

“I frosted my very first tree!!”

“Very good job Jacqueline.”

“It was amazing,” Jack said, “She knocked it out of the park! But as we were celebrating—”

“The ground asploded!”

“What?”

“There was a quake; we went to investigate but before we even got to the place it originated at, we got hit with fallout. Magical fallout.”

“Whose?”

“Sandman and Tooth Fairy.”

“Oh no.”

“We found these,” Jack said, holding out the cracked goggles.

“It felt icky!”

“Icky how?”

“Hmm…”

“You said sad,” Jack said, gently.

“Ye. Sad, but also good.”

“Heavy,” Jack added. "Bittersweet? Melancholy? Saudade?"

“Good heavens,” Mother Nature said, taking the goggles. Three Taras stared back at her, worry lining their faces.

“And I swear Grandmother, we didn’t do it! I didn’t do it! Honest! Jacqueline as my witness!”

“I believe you, Jack,” she said, touching the goggles to her chest. “Are you two okay?” she asked, checking them over for scrapes and bumps.

“I’m fine,” Jack said, grabbing Jacqueline around the waist and placing her down. “How bout you, little flurry. you okay?"

“My legs are ricey.”

“Remember what Dad taught you; shake it off, you’ll feel them again in a moment.”

“Ricey?”

“It’s what she calls pins and needles,” Jack clarified.

“Yeah! You know, ricey,” Jacqueline said, shaking her little leggies. “Like when you pour rice into a jar. Dry rice. It’s like. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—”

“I think she gets it, Jacqueline.”

“I might steal that,” she added.

“Ou! Remember what I taught you!”

“Right! I’ll need royalties, Gramma!”

“You taught her about royalties?” Mother Nature asked, amused.

Jack placed his hands on his hips. “I’m covering all my bases. All of them. You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, concern lining his features as he glanced down at Jacqueline.

“I’m okie dokie,” she said, grabbing her brother’s hand with a grin. “Can I go back up now?”

Jack nodded, picking her back up. “Anyway, Mother Nature, I think you need to come see this.”

---

Moments later, the trio found themselves back at the waterfall. The minute Mother Nature materialized, she gasped, nearly stumbling.

“Grandmother!” Jack rushed to her side, offering his arm.

“I’m fine, thank you, Jack. Heavy indeed; something terrible has happened here. Where did you find the goggles?”

“Jacqueline saw them first. Over here, by the base of the falls,” he said, leading the way over to where they found it.

Mother Nature climbed carefully over the stones. They had a weird film on them; she scooped some up on her finger, looking down at it. It was gold; when she rubbed the dust between her fingers, it looked like little Z’s.

“Dream sand,” she said out loud. She trailed her pointer finger on a separate rock. More sand. “It’s all over the place.”

“And if you look closely, there’s some fairy fire residue,” Jack said, pointing to the cliffs behind him.

Mother Nature made her way over, investigating the smears. Sure enough, mingled with the dream sand was the sandy residue all fairy magic left behind. A soft lilac, one that, when Mother Nature touched it, felt comforting. She was immediately reminded of her own childhood, with her dear Mother Gaia.

“It’s Terracina’s,” she confirmed. “And there’s no sign of either of them?”

Once more, Jacqueline swivelled around. Jack already had his hand in place when she leant all the way back to look up at the sky. “Nerp, still nothing,” she said, throwing herself back up, resting her chin on Jack’s head.

“Hmm.” Bending down, Mother Nature gently trailed her fingers along the ground. Her eyes widened; she shot back up.

“Jack. Bring your sister home.”

“What?”

“But I don’t wanna go home—”

---

Sorry to cut it off so suddenly! It is, after all, a Shadowy Snippet. This is Chapter 2, scene 2 and 3, I believe. I left a bit of preamble from Jack for SOME context but the real reason we're reading this is bc, uh, TINY JACQUELINE AND YA JACK!

Fun fact #2: Jack does take Jacqueline home, and when he gets back the rest of the Council is there, and Roy has his kid with him and Jack straight up is just like, OH. SO ROY CAN BRING HIS KID, BUT MY KID HAS TO GO HOME? RUDE.

Ah. Their dynamic is EVERYTHING to me. And just think, thirty years after this is the Day of Darkness and everything falls to bits :-) What a time to be alive!

#dani speaks #dani writes #into the shadows #shadowy snippets #smile shots #i GUESS lmao #anyway i thought y'all would enjoy the cute lil jacqueline and jack interactions because i have NOT stopped thinking about lmel's art #with jacquie TAPED TO THE WALL 😂😂😂😂#you guys know that one snap #where the dude like slam dunks the child?#that's another good little jacqueline and ya jack one lmao #dani wips #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #ANYWAY ENJOY!#crystal springs #baby cold front #i'm gonna keep baby jacquie and ya jack under that tag i think

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lostinthewiind · 3 years

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Do you think we could get a part 2 to that daichi fic you wrote earlier? I’d love to see how the team reacted 😅

Ummmmmm . . . YES! That fic was so fun to write, you can absolutely get a part 2. Coming right up!

Read part 1 here → Thick Thighs Save Lives

Read part 3 here →Thick Thighs Save Lives Part 3

Thick Thighs Save Lives Part 2

Rating: PG

Warnings: none - just fluff

“Ahem.”

Woken by the sudden clearing of someone’s throat, you inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of Daichi’s body wash and clothing detergent overwhelming your senses and bringing a slight smile to your face. As comforting as the scent had been to fall asleep to, it was even more comforting to wake up to.

Eyes still shut, you were so focused on how comfortable you were with Daichi’s thigh between your own and his warm body pressed against yours, that you had completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place. Snuggling further into him, you grabbed a fistful of the hem of his shirt and attempted to drift back to sleep for a little while.

“AHEM!”

This time, whoever was clearing their throat made it clear that they were trying to wake you. That’s when it hit you—you and Daichi had fallen asleep tangled together among the entire volleyball team, and now, everyone was awake except for the two of you.

You felt your heart start to pound harshly against your chest. You debated whether you should continue to pretend to be asleep or open your eyes and face the music, but before you had to make a decision one way or the other, the large figure wrapped around your own began to stir.

“What is wrong with you?” You heard Daichi ask, surprisingly unbothered by his teammates and the managers catching the two of you in this position. “It’s still early. Can’t you see she’s still sleeping? Why are you being so loud?”

There was a moment of silence before anyone answered. “S-sorry, Captain.” Tanaka’s voice finally responded. “We were just . . . why didn’t you tell us the two of you were together?”

“Yeah,” you heard Suga and Asahi agree.

“Because we’re not,” Daichi told them, surely earning at least a couple of confused looks because he quickly followed it up with, “Let’s not discuss this now, okay? Why don’t you guys start making breakfast? You help yourselves to the food in my kitchen often enough to know where everything is.”

A few seconds later, you heard the sound of a series of shuffling feet heading out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving just you and Daichi among the discarded pillows and blankets. You could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen, no doubt discussing what they had just witnessed, but since you couldn’t make out what they were saying, you were able to calm down a little.

“Don’t worry about them,” Daichi whispered to you, knowing you were awake and that you had heard everything. “I should apologize. I meant to wake up before them and shift into a less awkward position.”

You smiled softly and shook your head, dismissing his concern. “Don't apologize. You were just being nice. I appreciate it.”

Slowly, and with what you thought you recognized as a small tinge of sadness in his eyes, Daichi pulled his thigh out from between yours and released you from the gentle embrace he had captured you in sometime during the night. “Get some more sleep,” he told you, quickly taking the pillow he had been using for his head and placing it between your legs where his own leg had been seconds before. “I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

“Okay,” you exhaled softly, pulling the blanket over your shoulders fully and relaxing the best you could. When Daichi left to join the others in the kitchen, however, you found yourself wondering about what this meant for you and the sweet volleyball captain. Did he like you as more than just a friend or was he really just trying to be nice and help you out in a time of need?

You would be lying if you said that sleeping next to him hadn’t been the best sleep you had had in ages, but then again, that wasn’t exactly an incredible feat considering the stress of upcoming exams had been affecting your quality of sleep in the past few weeks.

Choosing to push this problem to the back of your mind and deal with it at a later time, you focused on clearing your mind and before you knew it, had taken full advantage of the rare opportunity to sleep in and drifted off again.

You weren’t sure how long you had continued to rest, but when you woke for a second time that morning, the faint smell of food was present in the home and there was a distant sound of running water and what sounded like pots clanging off of one another.

Letting out a yawn and stretching out your limbs, you rose to your feet and made your way into the kitchen, surprised to see a single person standing by the sink instead of a whole volleyball team.

“Did everyone leave already?” you questioned.

Startled a little by your sudden presence, Daichi spun around from where he was doing the dishes. “You slept for another three hours,” he told you with a grin, “Plenty of time for me to feed everyone and send them on their way.”

“All the while dodging questions about us, I’m sure.” You climbed into one of the stools at the kitchen counter. “They are never going to leave us alone about that.”

“Probably not,” Daichi agreed with a chuckle as he grabbed a bowl of rice and eggs from the other side of the counter and slid it toward you. “I’m sure you’re hungry. I was going to wake you like I said I would, but I figured you could use the extra sleep—and I’m sure you’re happy to have avoided the third-degree from everyone. It might be a little cold by now though, so sorry about that.”

Taking the food gratefully, you smiled. “You keep apologizing for being considerate,” you commented. “Do you always do that or am I just special?”

“I-I don’t know how to answer that,” he replied truthfully.

You nodded before changing the subject, not wanting him to feel pressured into answering something he might not be comfortable with. “Well, either way, I’m grateful for the extra hours. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Because of your legs?”

You shrugged. “Sort of . . . upcoming exams has me pretty stressed, so that’s not helping, and then stress tends to make my legs ache even more. It’s weird . . . I wish I knew how to make it stop.”

Daichi nodded understandingly. “Well, you said a pillow usually helps.”

Shovelling some of the luke-warm food into your mouth, you chewed and swallowed before letting out a small scoff. “Well, apparently, an extra pillow isn’t always available,” you pointed out with an amused giggle.

You waited for Daichi to say something in response, but when he didn’t and instead returned to doing the dishes, you focused on eating the food in front of yourself. The two of you existed in silence in the kitchen for five more minutes, just enough time for him to finish cleaning and you to finish eating.

After rinsing the last pan, Daichi reached for your empty bowl and washed it quickly before setting it aside. Then, with a heavy sigh and arms crossed against his chest, he turned to look at you. “Was it weird that I did that?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Did what?”

“Put my . . . my thigh between your legs,” he clarified. “Was that weird?”

You thought for a moment, utterly unsure how to answer that. You didn’t think it was weird, personally, but you weren’t sure if that was the correct response or not. “Do you think it was weird?” you asked in return, more curious about how he felt about it.

“No . . . well, not at the time, no. But now I’m not so sure. The others made some good points during breakfast—maybe it isn’t okay to be so close if we aren’t, you know . . . together.”

“If that’s how you feel about it, it can just be a one-time thing,” you assured him, hoping he felt like his feelings on the matter were valid. “A friend helping out a friend—it doesn’t need to be anything more than that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed before his eyes grew wide and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Wait, did you want it to be more than a one-time thing?”

“What? I didn’t say that.”

“The way you worded that just now made it sound like it can be a one-time thing if I want it to be,” he said. “Do you want it to be a one-time thing?”

You let out a groan. “This is confusing.” You folded your arms across the countertop and rested your head on them. “I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be, which is odd because of how confidently you played it all off up until this point. If I’m being honest, I haven’t slept that well in a very long time and I found your presence very comforting. That’s where I stand on the issue. The ball is now in your court.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I liked it too . . . not in a weird way or anything,” he sighed, physically flustered and slowly turning red. “I’m sorry, I’m complicating things with my words.”

You smirked at him. “Then don’t use your words.”

At first, Daichi seemed even more puzzled, but then a wave of realization washed over him and suddenly, the cool and confident captain from the night before had returned.

Walking around to the other side of the counter, he approached you slowly before placing his hands on either side of your face and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. He then scooped you into his arms, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“What are you doing?” you questioned as he started carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hall. “What about your parents?”

“They’re away for the whole weekend,” was all he said before entering his room and placing you down on the bed.

Initially, you were nervous about where this was heading, but as soon as you caught a glimpse of Daichi’s warm, brown eyes and watched as he flashed you a comforting smile, you remembered that he always had nothing but the best intentions.

“I find your presence comforting too,” he explained as he crawled into the bed beside you. “Lie with me. Just . . . be with me.”

You couldn’t help but smile uncontrollably. “Okay,” you nodded and extended your arms out, making plenty of room for him between them. Just like the night before, he held you close and rested his chin on top of your head.

And just like the night before, he carefully slit his thigh between your legs. Then, he let out a sigh and you could feel his entire body relax.

“Daichi,” you chuckled lowly. “My legs don’t hurt right now.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He left it at that, and before long, his breathing slowed and fell into a calming rhythm.

Despite the fact that you had just slept approximately 10 hours, you soon found your eyelids feeling heavy and the comfort of the bed and warmth of Daichi’s embrace lulling you back into a deep rest.

“Daichi?”

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“What does this mean?”

Instead of words, he first answered with his actions, just like you had told him to. Snaking one arm over your waist, he slipped a large hand under your shirt and place his palm flush against the middle of your back, fingers spread wide. He then used said hand to pull you even closer to his chest.

You drew in a shaky breath, the feeling of his broad hand on your small back bringing you an unexplainable sense of safety and relaxation.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, “but we’ll figure it out later.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq daichi #daichi #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura #fanfiction #fluff #lostinthewiind #reader #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #daichi x reader #thick thighs save lives #sawamura daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #part 2 #request

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khuuya · 3 years

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dancing in the living room with them | headcanons

fandom -> demon slayer: kimetsu no yaiba

characters -> Sabito, Giyuu, Rengoku, Zenitsu, Tanjiro, Inosuke

genre -> fluff !

note -> PLEASEE THIS IS SO SELF-INDULGENT BUT I NEEDED THIS !!

--> SABITO

- pleaseee this man,,,,,

- he would be the living embodiment of “we’re gonna get funky!”

- he would not take it seriously at ALL! you could just be swaying and shit and he's on the couch trying to ace a backflip.

- unless its a slow song then he becomes such a romantic its insane.

- until the song switches to an upbeat one again-

- *slow dancing with s/o* *song switches*

- Sabito: OUTTA MY WAY!! THIS IS MY SONG!!

- he's weirdly really good?????? like where did you learn this???

- breath of water tings-

- he will start doing really weird things to make you laugh though! he usually does it when he can see you're getting tired. he wants to boost your energy again!!

- he also lip syncs the lyrics to any song you play with like... a musicians passion in his eyes.

- if your lucky he will even start singing!!!!!!!!! ah!!!!!

--> GIYUU

- Yall know that scene in avengers: endgame? where Steve and Peggy are doing that slow dance? that's what I imagine him and his s/o to be like.

- I don't think he’d really join in on any upbeat dancing.

- I mean you can try! but the most you’ll get is a little sway.

- he's already RED when you start slow dancing with him.

- like Sabito he's also weirdly good??? did they dance together or something?? what is this??

- granted they use breath of water no wonder they are smooth.

- he’ll be a little stiff at first because of how shy he is but he gets into it soon.

- but oh man the love in his EYES the WHOLE TIMEEE!!!

- this mans eyes twinkle!!!!!!!

- he just loves to have them so close to him, even if its for a little while.

- he's obsessed with the way his s/o moves its so cute.

- he blushes just watching them.

- I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THIS MAN !!!!!!!!

--> RENGOKU

- he’s like.... a mix of Sabito and Giyuu-

- let me explain-

- he's absolutely loves dancing to upbeat songs with his s/o.

- but!! he's not as “watch my backflip” crazy as Sabito.

- he also ravishes in the feeling he gets when he watches his s/o dance freely like Giyuu.

- you're just too cute to him!!!

- he will just stand there with a beaming smile and the bIGGEST love eyes while his s/o just jumps around.

- you’ll probably have to pull him down from whatever la la land he's in so he stops staring at you and keeps dancing.

- HE 100% IS THE ONE TO INITIATE SLOW DANCES!!!

- he likes to be able to have 100% of the control when slow dancing so he’ll pull you in for that.

- have slow songs playing when he comes home after a long mission and he will BEAM!!!

- he also really enjoys slow dancing after coming home from dates or after a nice dinner at home together.

- I just KNOW this man is romantic as hell I KNOW it!!!!!

--> ZENITSU

- this man doesn’t know what a personal space bubble is when it comes to his s/o.

- he needs to be close with you constantly!!!

- upbeat song? you guys are jumping up and down holding hands.

- slow song? you guys will be so close you might as well just kiss him.

- (do it he will turn so red-).

- if you guys are dancing without holding hands (rare occasion).

- praise him!! praise his dance skills!!! even though he's honestly not that good!!! do it!!!

- because he will start getting excited and starts pulling off crazy shit.

- we been knew his love languages are physical touch and praise-.

- he’d probably be one to mumble the lyrics under his breath.

- you will (sadly) NEVER catch this man singing though.

- (maybe once or twice but never when you're dancing with him :()

--> TANJIRO

- HES TOO SOFT OH MYYYYYYY

- he's just so,,,,,,,, soft

- best slow dancer ! absolutely the best!!!

- not only that but he just likes holding you and having you close to him so this really helps.

- it reminds him that he wants to protect you forever.

- he will slow dance with you at anytime, anywhere.

- its one of his favorite things!!!!

- he's the one that probably matches your energy the most when you guys are dancing to upbeat songs.

- what is he bad at honestly-.

- dancing with you is just so fun for him! do it whenever he's feeling sad or stressed and he will be back to normal! he loves it!

- not gonna lie the main reason is just because he likes seeing you so happy.

- he's happy he's able to have these moments with you.

--> INOSUKE

- PLEASEEEEEE

- TURN ON THE MUSIC AND TELL HIM TO DANCE WITH YOU

- HE THINKS YOURE TRYING TO FIGHT-

- inosuke: what are you doing?! are you trying to fight me?! ok! lets go!!!

- s/o: inosuke no-

- once you explain it to him he’ll understand

- but he is horrible.

- IN A CUTE WAY!!!! HES TRYING HIS HARDEST!!!

- but good luck with slow songs because he’ll lose his mind.

- he loves hearing you giggle when he messes up though (but he’ll never tell you that).

- when he finally gets the hang of it he isn't too bad!

- he will do it with you constantly though.

- inosuke: come on! come on!! I want to dance!!!!

- s/o: inosuke its one in the morning-

- he just really loves being in the moment with you!!

masterlist | bulletin board

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

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Wishing I could read something about Peraltiago talking about how they feel on all Teddy's proposals to Amy. They are really akward, uncomfortable moments and Teddy really crosses the limits every single time, and wish we knew more on their takes about it. Once I read a fic about Jake sending Rosa to stop Teddy and take care of Amy but it just not the same.

lol I have a fic on that topic exactly - I have a proposal for you - where I had the cathartic experience of writing about Rosa breaking Teddy’s hand for being so awful, but I agree with you, Teddy reappearing in the show is so uncomfortable each time ugggh. I thought the wedding one was the worst but then he shows up literally fathering a child with someone else and still does it, disgusting.

So maybe take this as taking place before that fic of mine, where Jake does mention how bad Teddy's proposals make them feel!

Jake can tell, just from the simple drop of her purse in the hallway, that it wasn't a good day.

Weird, how it's these tiny things that he's learned to read instantly - or maybe not, given that he's a detective trained to focus on details others would overlook, and being unable to stop the habit when it comes to the most important people in his life.

She tries to be all smiles when she comes into the living room, though, where Mac is happily rolling around in his playpen while Jake is folding laundry on the couch, the very picture of domesticity as she leans over the pen to kiss their squealing, giggling little baby. The view of her in one of her old pantsuits instead of her Sergeant's uniform is already making his hearts do little leaps even before she makes her way over to Jake for their customary Welcome Home kiss.

"How was that inter-department meeting today?" He asks as she shrugs off the suit jacket and continues her pace into the kitchen, setting aside a set of Mac's bibs that can't be folded anyway.

"Okay." She replies, and that's enough to make him abandon the laundry alltogether and follow her (one eye on Mac, of course, but he's not even crawling yet, and couldn't roll himself into any danger on his foam-based playmat - probably). It's rare that she doesn't have at least one inspiring, 'interesting' or just generally informative story to share from her meetings, the only person in probably all departments looking forward to them.

She's staring into the fridge when he reaches the room and leans against the counter, trying to gauge her level of upset. From the raised shoulders and the fact that she doesn't need to check the fridge to know they were going to order Chinese tonight, he guesses it's at a solid 8, at least.

"Teddy was there." She mumbles into the cold, bright space in front of her, and Jake's shoulders tense up just as much as hers even as he tries to sound as chill as possible.

"How is he?"

"Still extremely boring." Then, after a pause. "Still hung up on me."

So much for chill.

"Did he propose again?"

She nods and sighs, her shoulders dropping as she closes the fridge, but doesn't turn toward him.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." She says through gritted teeth, suddenly. "He has a child with someone. He has a wife. How can he look at them and turn around and-"

Mac's little happy cooing from the living room interrupts her, as do Jake's arms as they wind around her middle, his chin dipping into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

"That's probably a question only a therapist could answer, babe."

Amy sighs as she leans back, falls into the warmth and support of her own husband, the father of her child that she can hear happily babbling to himself from a room over, and wonders some more how Teddy could ever think he would be a better option for her.

"He wasn't like this when we were dating." She muses, and feels Jake's kiss against her jaw - a reflex action she's noticed whenever she mentions a past partner or anything, frankly, that reminds him that there was a point where he wasn't Jake Peralta-Santiago yet. But she kind of needs to finish this thought, and she knows he can handle it. "He was nice and kind and he wouldn't- he wasn't manipulative, pulling something like that in public, or deluded enough to think he was in the right for it. I mean, he thought he was pretty great, but he wouldn't have -"

"You musta broken something pretty major in his brain when you left him." Jake's voice is joking, luckily, but she can sense a hint of something more. "The absolute devastation of a Santiago break-up speech, rehearsed or not."

"Harsh, Jake."

"Remember manbun musician? He went downright insane after your split - not that he was probably the sanest person around before that, but-"

"You promised we'd never mention him again."

"I'm just saying. I don't think any man left by you is going to be completely right in the head after that."

"You're making me sound like some black widow monster." She smiles, though, hearing the awe and affection in his voice bleed through.

"I'm not judging those guys, anyway." He continues, and that tinge of something else in his words is back. "I mean, I can't imagine what I'd be like if you ever decided to take Teddy up on one of his proposals."

She straightens up from her lean on his chest, twists in his arms without breaking the hug, and stares right into him as she studies his face - his actually slightly scared face.

"Jake, you know that's not ever-"

"I was joking babe."

"No. Jake. That's not even an option. Not even an idea. Never. Not in a million years. Not if-"

She grabs his shirt where it's unbuttoned, right next to his heart, and his hand reaches up to squeeze hers like it always does, thumb swiping along her rings.

"I know, Ames." The soft kiss that follows calms her just as much. "I cashed out that jackpot and I'm not giving it back."

She hums as she kisses him again, leans her forehead against his for a deep breath.

"It's just... sad." She returns to her original train of thought. "That he can't move on despite his life doing so. I mean, it's been years. He's got a new job and a new partner and a new baby, and he's willing to, what, dump all that? For me? For that idolised image he probably has in his mind of me now, because nothing between us has been real since ages ago?"

"Wow, this is really bugging you."

"Yes! He's barging into my life and thinking he knows what's best for me and that it's him, like I'm some love-struck silly dreamgirl who's going to drop her entire world because he's romantic enough to go down on one knee in front of our colleagues and superiors who have no idea what's going on-!"

Mac's noises from the next room turn from content to disagreeing, growing into what is sure to be a cry any minute now, and it's the only thing that can make them break apart from their hug. He calms down immediately when Amy lifts him out of his pen, and holds him close while she settles on the sofa next to the half-done laundry basket, snuffling against her chest in a very obvious I’m hungry mom couldn’t you tell?! move before she can even unbutton her dress shirt.

He latches on immediately when her shirt is open and her bra pulled down - not a nursing bra today, considering she got ready for an important work meeting - while she feels Jake rearrange the pillows behind her and to her side to get her comfortable, without a second of hesitation or having to think about it. He moves on to pick up the jacket she's dropped onto a dining room chair, drapes it on a hanger in the hallway, and she feels the soft prick of tears in her eyes before he settles down again next to the two of them with a glass of water for her set on the coffee table.

Jake only hums as he notices the shine in her eyes too, and wipes across her cheek. He knows that nursing can get her into a pretty emotional state sometimes, but this is probably a bit more than that.

"I love you." She says, and barely waits for his return of I love you too to continue. "I can't believe Teddy expects me to look at Mac, and look at you, and still think he could ever be a better offer for anything I want."

"Aw, babe." He grins softly in return while playing with Mac's foot that is kicking in his direction, covered in the fuzziest green socks with red apples on them. "You scored a pretty dope 2-for-1 deal with us, I admit."

“Before that, too.” She insists, leaning to unlatch Mac and hand him over to Jake to burp as they always do while she buttons back up, thinking about Teddy’s many proposals before Mac was even planned on. “Jake, you know that, right? You alone were the best deal first and foremost.”

He smiles at her, Mac’s soft little curls right next to his cheek as he sways and pats his back, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Jake-”

“You were happy with him.” He says, quietly, while Mac lets out his usual milky burp and smiles at him much wider when he wipes him clean with the linen cloth pulled from his shoulder. “I know it’s in the past and I - I’m not jealous or anything that stupid, but. Like you said... He wasn’t like this back then, and you were happy.”

His eyes seem forlorn, even as he smiles at the now sleepy baby in his lap that looks so much like him it always makes her heart twinge, that little bundle of joy with Amy’s dark hair and skin that seems to know the Cuban sun without ever having been there.

“And I know it’s not - and it doesn’t make sense to think about, but - sometimes his stupid proposals made me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done that while he still made you happy.” His voice turns low, and it’s probably not just to avoid waking Mac back up as he falls asleep. “And that just makes me think about how I had to watch you be happy with him, and that’s not - that’s never a good memory to revisit, honestly-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes.” She leans over into his field of vision, the most serious look on her face. “Even back then, I wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal.”

Jake’s eyebrows scrunch up in question, his eyes turning into those puppy dog eyes that she knows as a direct hit to her heart when he’s actually sad or worried, and she can’t not hold his face in her hands again.

“Yes, I was happy with Teddy for a while, but looking back at it I realise I was- there was always this feeling of waiting for something. Hoping for something to be different.” She kisses him, careful and short and barely there, but enough to make him close his eyes and lean towards her a bit more. “And maybe back then I thought I was waiting for him to change somehow, but really I was only waiting for him to change into you.”

“Teddy couldn’t change into me if he had major brain surgery.” Jake scoffs, and Amy huffs a laugh with him.

“Yeah. And that’s why he’d never been right for me. That’s only ever been you.”

He finally, properly smiles now, eyes open again and set on her with a soft shine to them before he leans over more, as much as he can without waking the deeply asleep baby in his lap.

“I’m glad you figured that out when you did, in the end.” He quips and earns himself a shy nod. “And said yes when it came to the only good proposal you got.”

She snickers at that, thinking about the gaudy but wonderful boxing belt in her mementos box, and leans in the last few inches she needs to kiss him again, neither careful nor short this time, but equally as soft.

“And the next time I catch Teddy trying to propose to you again I’m going to punch him out before he can even get down on one knee.”

“You are not assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Kick in the balls?”

“How very mature, Mister-I-have-an-actual-child-now.”

“Can I at least tell him where he can stick his ridiculous ideas of marrying you at any point in the future, no matter the circumstances?”

She hums for a second.

“You can. If you add in how ridiculous the idea was in the past as well.”

“Oh now, that’s a good deal.”

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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restapesta · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where Ian surprises Mickey. I'm keeping it vague but that's because I trust you with it! ♥

Thank you so much for the request. Now, I hope I did it justice. It may be written a little weird, because I always write in past tense, but now I switched to present (which means, if there are any errors, I apologize beforehand). Enjoy!

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

When Mickey finally realizes what's happening, he finds it hard to school his face into the appropriate reaction.

What is the appropriate reaction when your husband is standing before you, holding a puppy in his arms?

In his hands, more like it, considering how tiny the thing is.

"What have you done?" Mickey asks with a slight tremble in his voice. It isn't as if he expected for Ian to come back home from his morning run with a fucking dog.

Ian doesn't even seem that distressed about the whole thing; there isn't an ounce of sweat coating his body, even though he was on a run and should have been scared of Mickey's reaction.

Instead, Ian replies, a grin on his face, "She's a month old, and, obviously, a pit. I picked her up this morning."

"Picked her up this morning? Picked her up from where?"

Ian rolls his eyes. "The shelter, Mick. That's where we were planning on adopting a dog from, remember?"

He, in fact, does remember. "Yeah, but we said we'd get a dog once we settled in. Got some fucking furniture."

Ian simply lets his signature aw you're being cute smile spread across his features. "I think you keep forgetting how well I know you, Mick."

Mickey frowns, confused. "Huh?"

"You were pretty disappointed when I suggested we wait for all those things."

"Hey, that's not..." Mickey trails off, remembering the conversation he and Ian led a couple weeks ago.

After a thorough conversation about their future, and having a family, they came to a proper agreement.

For now, instead of kids, they could get a dog—both sides were down for that decision, and Mickey thought they would get one immediately. Neither man was ready for a child yet, but a dog? Mickey wanted one for ages.

But then Ian ruined it with the reality of it all.

"We can't get a dog out of the blue, Mick."

"Uh, why not?"

"Because, there's a bunch of paperwork that goes into adopting a dog, and also, we haven't even properly settled into the Westside."

Mickey frowned back then, a tinge of sadness welling up his chest. He ignored it, naturally, and started teasing Ian immediately after, perhaps using it as a coping mechanism. Sure they could get a dog years from now when they settled in.

No biggie.

No fucking problem.

Not a single fucking one.

Ian is right. Of course he is

"That is true." Mickey sighs, now letting himself marvel at the little pitbull. "I was a bit sad we didn't get a dog straight away, but..." He glances back up at his husband who has a content look on his face. "why'd you get it now?"

He falters, only for a moment. "I, um, wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me?"

Ian chews on his bottom lip, his eyes glancing around the room, looking at anything but Mickey. "You always do really nice things for me, and I..." He releases a deep sigh. "I wanted to do something I knew would make you happy."

Mickey doesn't say anything for a moment. He just stares at his dumbass of a partner and wonders how he doesn't see how fucking happy he always makes him. How big of a smile he always puts on Mickey's face, no matter what the occasion is.

Mickey doesn't need big gestures—although, the dog is pretty cute, but he'd get to that in a second—it's just enough from Ian to do all those little, absentminded things—like making Mickey a coffee in the morning without Mickey having to ask; making sure to plug Mickey's phone at night because Mickey himself couldn't remember to plug it in himself for shit; buying Mickey his favorite Snickers bar whenever the fuck he went into the store alone.

It's the little things that matter, at least to Mickey.

He smiles at Ian, who still seems a little worried, and makes a move to take the dog from his hands. "Gimme' that."

Ian complies and hands the puppy to Mickey.

It's so fucking cute.

"Thank you," Mickey says after a moment of simply staring at it. "It means a lot that you wanted to do this for me."

It makes Mickey so happy to see Ian grin so wide. "It was no trouble."

Mickey knows it probably was.

"I was thinking we could name it Bazooka." Mickey looks up sharply at Ian, who just smirks. "It's the only Bazooka I'll be letting into our home, just for the record. See? I'm being extra nice, making all your wishes come true."

And this is why Mickey loves him so fucking much.

Making sure not to crush the puppy in his hands, he leans closer to Ian, tipping his chin up.

Another small thing that makes Mickey love his fucking life.

"I love you," He mutters against Ian's lips.

"I love you, too," Ian says, pecking Mickey's lips again. "And, we'll take good care of it, you know?"

Mickey doesn't reply, but he knows that, yeah.

They will.

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #ian x mickey #ianxmickey #fic rec #drabble #tidbit #bazooka gallagher milkovich #for the WIN #*ficlet

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

invisible string;tom holland.

summary: life has a way of pulling you and Tom close to each other, then it pulls you apart.

“It is like an invisible red cord or thread which connects you to that one person you’re destined to meet, your true love.”

soulmate au

word count: 6.4k

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: breakup mention, fluff, angst. fluffy angst.

LOOK I TRIED TO WRITE FLUFF BUT I’M NOT GOOD AT IT SO ANGST CAME BUT I TRIED BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

heavily inspired by folklore and evermore by taylor

thanks @jambrosemc for helping me you’re amazing

So, this is for one of my best friends here, @badhollandfluff, Delaney I’m sorry this took so long but I wanted it to be perfect for you, surprise!!! I’m your secret Santa! Love you, hope you had an amazing Christmas and I wish you a happy new year, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thanks to everyone who joined, happy holidays!!

No one ever has time. We’re always running and rushing and trying to save a little, it’s always like we have it counted and we never truly realize time is passing by. The clock keeps ticking. You were a victim of that, sometimes, always running, never knowing why. Time always going faster than you wanted it to be.

Until it stopped, it had stopped since last year.

There you were now. A white mug. These days you don’t really see that. Everyone has the paper cups with the coffee collar. Their names scribbled on black that probably still smells like sharpie. But you were holding a white mug, that now was just slightly stained by your pink lipstick.

The mug was stained inside too, with the leftover foam of your capuchino. You were letting it set cold, watching as the people would walk in. Waiting.

You trailed your gaze around the room, there are some couples around you.

You liked the idea of this café, with people gathering around just for the simple fact of drinking a hot coffee out of a mug. You like to come here, to sit out your thoughts, sometimes you’ll find some time to work, read. But you’d be alone. You’ve been lonely lately.

It didn’t matter, it’s fair to point that out. But today, you were going to meet him. Again.

But you didn’t know that yet.

You had once read about soul connections, interested if you’d ever find your own, seemed like most people around had met them. You hadn't. Not the one you were longing to find, that is.

Bizarre.

Honestly, you didn’t believe in them. Or you liked to say that to yourself, sad enough to admit you hadn’t found any type of strong connection.

Or maybe you had.

But it made absolutely remotely no sense, at all.

How could you? There was absolutely no scientific proof that there were soulmates, and though everyone said you could feel them, that you’d sense it, and though the extinguished sadness on your friends could be proof enough, you were still sceptic. Maybe just doubting if you’d find yours. Or maybe you didn’t want to accept who was yours.

Because Tom had left.

Your friends had assured you that when they’d found it the world had turned idyllic, a pink life.

Yeah, it had felt like that when you’d found Tom, but now everything was gray.

However, you knew more about them than anyone else. You had researched about them, you had read about them and you were so informed that you sometimes didn’t even believe it.

Though you liked to ignore that sometimes there was a song stuck in your head without reason or there was a sudden joy, that had no possible explanation.

“It’s your soulmate,” someone would point out.

It wasn’t, it’s just Tom’s favorite song.

There was also a sense of pain, sometimes you didn’t understand why you felt such a heartbreak, how bad had they hurt them? If they did exist, that is.

They didn’t, though.

You’d read about that heart connection, that feelings connect trying to understand how it comes and goes.

There are three types of connections. Karmic partnership, soulmates and twin flames. Different types of connections.

First ones, karmic partnership, and it is as bad as it sounds. They’re often confused as soulmates and people like to cling to them. They’re… awful, being the one heartache that is there to teach a lesson, the one person that is there to show you something about yourself, the one person who is strictly there for character development, let’s say. The one person you fall in love with and keep falling in love, but it’s not love, no matter how many times they hurt each other they go back. It’s not love, though. Or maybe it is, but there reason they exist is strictly to make you reason. It becomes….Cyclic. Until you finally decide to break the cycle. Intense transformation, the one person that makes you see yourself from a different perspective and change. There is, however, no compatibility.

Probably what you had with Tom. But… no, it wasn’t… There was too much compatibility.

You’ve had your fair share of them, maybe you’ve had

Then there are the soulmates. The perfect compatibility.

The one connection that is beautiful, a person that you just… feel it. The one person you feel like you’ve waited for them your whole life. Strong compatibility, there are more than one soulmate, that is to say, it could be friends, it could be family. It doesn’t have to be a romantic partner. There are soulmates that you wonder how they can be such an incredible connection.

Everyone has soulmates. You knew you’d met some of them, the friends one that is. None of them a connection strong enough to be your partner. Not that you didn’t want to, though.

Or maybe you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You’ve read somewhere in the internet that there are connections that go beyond your wildest imagination. Go beyond soulmates. The… twin flames, the one your soul is so attached to, you can feel their pain, their joy.

Journeys end when lovers meet.

It’s fair to say, you’ve never believed in that information. Less after a heartbreak.

You had a million thoughts over your head, oozing you with stress and feeding your not long enough sleep schedule. You were slightly angry, you’d say. You didn’t like him anymore.

There are two kinds of people when it comes to liking someone. The ones who go forward it, fighting for it, hinting on it. Flirting as if there was no tomorrow. People like Tom.

And then there’s people who run away from feelings and try to pretend to act natural around their crushes. People who definitely don’t want to overstep boundaries and are afraid of ruining friendships. People like you.

But there was nothing to ruin now, was there?

Because there’s also people who give up. People like him. And people who never dare to forget. People like you.

It was never even.

But you keep daydreaming about him and can’t help that tinge of red spreading across your cheekbones every time he was near you. You shouldn’t have given in. You should’ve fought, but you were reckless. A sunrise dropping by again, and you wondered what had gone wrong.

Tom wanted to talk, you didn’t. You loved him, he didn’t love you.

Tom was gone. For good.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

It’s the kind of love that you’d probably want to avoid. You at least, avoided all kinds. After him, who’d want to love anyone else? He was the only one who could tell if you dared to smile with your eyes only.

How stupid were you to believe he was your soulmate.

But no, this wasn’t right. Because feelings make everything blurry and it’s something not exact. If it wasn’t for science and numbers you didn’t like to believe anything. If you don’t know how it’ll turn out then you’ll probably avoid it. And when it comes to relationships, you never truly know. Or sometimes you do, but it’s usually... not pretty. You’d learned that with him.

Relationships end, and while you don’t want them to. You’ve sensed it, from the beginning. And you just hope that they’ll remember you in a nice way. Did he? Or had he just passed the page.

You still felt stuck in a chapter. He had stopped reading. So hard to be on different books now.

But with him, He was an exception. He was pushy and wasn’t giving up at the beginning until he did. You had seen him fall out of love, and that’s the worst kind of thing you get to face, when you see them slowly trailing far from you.

Plans? Dreams? The willow tree in that park when you had first kissed was still crying over your breakup. Your head had been low since you’d last kissed him. Had you known it was your last, you’d probably would’ve made it last longer, you would’ve held him for more time. You wouldn’t have let him leave.

But you had had your moment with him. It had been the last time you saw him. The one moment when you realized that his fake smile was just that, how convenient and cliche. But you didn’t want to give you in, just yet. No, you wouldn’t. He’d changed, and you didn’t like who he was now. Too changed, too built up, too busy, too whatever you could come up with.

You got tired of begging, and then he was easy to forget, you hadn’t forgotten. Just two years ago you thought he’d made a decision, you had made it. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. But he didn’t. And you couldn’t stop him, he was growing and growing and simply he escaped from your touch.

Then it had been a goodbye, and nobody had seen it coming. You had, you’d known it for a long time. And it was weird, you were so in love with him that you knew that it was the best for you both, to get away because though you loved him, you knew he wouldn’t be happy with you. It’s difficult to let go of what makes you happy.

You remembered it, how both of you would only smile at each other, like damn strangers, say a few hellos, and a fews how’s the weather, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in between the sheets, as if you hadn’t danced in the middle of the night, as if you hadn’t given him each of the stars in the night sky, as if you hadn’t shared enough drinks together. Or as if you hadn’t fought for your love. You with that red jacket of his. How every path led to him. How every stupid weekend belonged to him, but now you wished they’d pass by sooner.

Maybe that’s why you were always rushing, so you wouldn’t feel it. You didn’t like the weekends anymore.

And now, she looked at him the way you were supposed to look at him. At first, it had hurt just a little, you hadn’t believed it. You knew it, everybody wanted to love him, but nobody knew what it felt, the crushing feeling that was loving him. How much it hurt, to watch him paddling with a precious smile, and those pair of angelic eyes, so pure and then turn into a devil just for you.

Nobody knew how it felt. Anticipating a heartbreak every time he walked in, and to pretend that you didn’t feel that anymore.

Last time only you thought you’d give him your heart, and he had pushed you away because his heart belonged to someone else. Then it was forbidden, to think about him, to dream about him, to still smell his scent on your pillows. It wasn’t right.

How could his heart ever belong to someone else but you?

And you had to smile, to say you were happy for him. Because you were, and that new girl was a fool because anyone who dares to fall for him is a fool, tangled in between lies. She who dares to love him is willing to have her heart crushed by him. And who but a fool is willing to let your heart be crushed by him.

Last time you’d seen him had been a friday night, 10pm on that one pub he liked going to. You had gone out with your friends, and he was there, with her against his shoulder, her with the long hair and the perfect smile, perfect laugh.

To think that had been your place once. You had avoided his gaze, ignored he was there. Pretending he hadn’t seen you. But he had. Pretending you hadn’t seen him. But you had.

Someone had said there is life after love, but there is not love after him. It’s like you’d thrown everything to the fire, and he had watched it burn. Everyone said it: you’ll be happy.

When?

Sure, it’d come, eventually. But it had been a year.

You’d heard he had broken up with her, a while ago. Then it was that hope again, probably why you were recurring to that café.

It’s funny to think you’ll love someone forever, and then it just… disappears. Every promise eventually breaks, every kiss eventually fades, and love is eventually gone.

Then why wasn’t it?

Time was your biggest enemy.

Your story with him, from the moment you’d first seen him, he was just—perfect, you thought about it, how everyone said it was your soulmate. And you believed it. From the moment you’d met him, you had finally believed in soulmates, because it made sense. How your story had been built up to him, and how many times of sudden joy had you had before meeting him because of how close you were.

Life had been so reckless. You were supposed to meet him several times before you actually met. It was stupid to think, how you were always thinking about it, now that you were apart.

The first time you’d ever crossed paths had been when you had been very, very young. You didn’t know he had been there, not aware, at a park. And there had been this sudden joy. You remembered feeling it, you’d said it, felt a spark.

Just children unaware of a flame burning too deep inside of you.

That other time, at the supermarket when both of you had gone with each other’s mothers and both of you had been playing with the toys.

You’d never forgotten that one very time, first time your hands ever touched, and it had felt like electricity. Two kids very confused by that spark, when both of them had reached to that one toy, confused.

Or that one time at the café when he had walked in, you were sure he had walked in, you’d felt it, how your heart had started to beat so fast, but before you could even glance at him he had walked out. Lost in the crowds, always.

How both of you had had a broken heart at the same time. First kiss had been almost at the same time, just blocks away, actually.

Or how you’d both been at that one party, but didn’t know about it. It made no sense how life had been so desperate to get you together but both your surroundings pulled you away. That night had been so close, both dancing behind each other, singing on top of your lungs to the same stupid song.

Or that one time when someone had pointed him to you when you were at that one pub, “look, that guy is cute.”

You had looked at him, he was. Shy smiles had only been directed in each other’s direction.

You’d later learned he’d sent you a drink but the waiter had mistaken the table.

That one time when you had run out of cash at that sandwich place because their card machine had stopped working, you were rushing, and you were missing only cents, and Tom had come to your rescue.

Or how he worked near you and his dad had been friends with your mom at some point. How his favorite song was the same as yours, and how often you’d be at the same park, him on his phone, you reading a book.

How you’d once met his dog that had run over to you. A dog that would learn to love you and did miss you from time to time.

How Tom had randomly found that one book you’d lost at the park once, under that willow tree and he’d read it. Loved it and then lost it again at that same park, with a random paper note that read: “Jerry’s 8pm, wine.” he’d used as a book separator.

Who was Jerry? What would happen at 8pm? Wine? What type? Red? Rose? White? Why were you so intrigued by that note?

You’d kept it to this day. Still didn’t know what it was. You knew Jerry now, though, he was a friend. And now you knew that he liked wine but preferred beer.

You’d given him a pretty book separator. He still had kept it to this day, never used it, he always used random notes or napkins or whatever he found. At first it stressed you, how many book separators did you not have and he’d use napkins or those fortune papers that come with fortune cookies. So you had transformed into a better habit, you would write notes so he’d used them. You’d order chinese food more often, too.

He said he’d always remember that, your little notes, the way you always stained your cup of coffee with lipstick, your two left feet when you danced, or the fact that your laugh would be heard across a room. He’d always recognize your laugh.

What a Whimsical thing love is when it’s not the right time.

How many times have you not felt like there was something missing? Until he appeared, at that one park near the cafe where you are sitting right now. The first time you’d ever officially met. Nothing out of a book, something very casual. Both of you at that café, it had been crowded that one day and the only chair available was the one in front of you.

“I’m sorry, hello,” he had said, making you look up from your book. “May—I sit here?” He asked. “There’s no other chair left in the room and—“

“Yeah, yeah, hi, you can sit,” you had said, without really looking at him, but the moment you had, the moment your eyes had met his, you had…. felt like the whole surrounding had disappeared and you were the only people in the room, it seemed he had also noticed something.

A cold november evening, both of you had a reason to go home yet neither of you had gone home. Both of you had found a way to that café, with coffees in a mug. The leaves falling outside.

He had sat right in front of you, you couldn’t help but blush when noticing he was attractive, very attractive. But there was something else about him, maybe it had been the way he couldn’t sit still. He had stared at you, and smiled.

From the very first time you’d ever seen his smile, you knew three things,

His smile was the prettiest thing you’d ever laid your eyes on

His smile was so familiar

His smile would eventually break your heart.

The third one wasn’t as cheerful but you could tell, he was one of those guys who could easily break someone’s heart in a blink.

It didn’t take him a blink to break yours. You’d need a lifetime to break his.

“I’m Tom.”

“Y/N.”

Both of you liked to debate over who’d talk to who first, it didn’t matter honestly. You both remembered how both of you had ordered the same drink, a cappuccino. Neither of you liked it, but apparently both of you had wanted to ask for something new.

You’d always do that. Taste new drinks.

And it had been… as if you’d met before. You had, multiple times before, but neither one knew, of course. Not at that point, but like you were meant to find him. The sun had gone down and it had been hours and hours of you talking to each other, like old friends who knew their deepest secrets and were catching up, laughs becoming one melody, and both of you had soon realized the cafe hadn’t been that crowded. Maybe it had been the damn destiny pulling you together. To that cafe near the park with that willow tree.

He had asked questions you didn’t have the answers to back then. You did now.

Before you knew it, you were walking with a stranger through the London night, seeing people walk by and not looking at them, because somehow you’d both walked to that one park. Both of you had discovered you both liked to sit on that one bench near the willow tree. How many times had you missed the other jusy by a matter of minutes.

“You’re kidding, I love this place, I’m always here,” he had said.

“I am, too, weird we’d never met before,” you had chuckled.

You honestly didn’t remember how or why it had happened. A kiss. You’d kissed a stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger at all.

“I’m sorry, I-” He had started.

“No, it’s--”

And then kissed again. Your stomach had dropped and had been replaced with butterflies. How had a simple cappuccino led to this?

He’d given you a smile and a promise. You’d met him the next day, and the other one, and the next one. With that stupid smile of his.

You missed that smile, or how he flirted with you, make you giggle with a stupid joke, or how he’d open his arms to you and kiss you, tumbling down to the couch. The way he’d make you listen to him ramble about his latest discovery. How he always found a way to make you smile in the crowds, always holding your hand, new dates in different places.

“What do you mean you’ve never gone paintball?”

Weekends only for him, going for breakfast, for dinner, for lunch, for tea, for this, for that. . Then it was the weeknights too, always finding time for you, traditions you created and that you got rid off. Laying down on the grass, looking at stars, kissing in bars, dancing in his living room, your head on his shoulder in movie theatres, his scent on your pillow, his favorite movies next to your dvd, your perfume in his closet and your toothbrush in his bathroom. Notes he’d written to remember things all around your place. Birthdays, new year, parties.

Endless nights of laugh, of wine and of nothing at all. Kissing. Video Games you didn’t understand, failed attempts to bake, watching sport games he loved and you… tolerated. Him finally agreeing to watch that movie with Ryan Gosling.

“Why Ryan Gosling?”

Building plans together, nights of both of you debating on something stupid. Singing on top of your lungs without knowing the lyrics. Getting lost together, that one roadtrip where neither of you knew the way and ended up at that one hotel in the middle of the road. Kissing. Learning to read every emotion, and being each other’s blankets. Hearing each other’s ugly laughs, and crying in front of the other. Being each other’s confort. Hugging him when you were scared at the movie. Meeting the parents.

“They loved you, don't worry.”

Always holding each other’s hands. Fights under the rain. Making up hours later and cuddling to let go of it. Being friends with each other’s friends. Seeing friends getting engaged, going to the weddings. Talking about a wedding. Learning, becoming their best selves.

Then…. Cold.

He’d left you when you had been the most in love with him. When you thought he’d shows up with a ring. But he had said goodbye instead. With his picture on your phone and your hand cold with no one to hold. He’d changed your life, completely.

You’d learned so, so, so much. And at some point you…. Realized it.

You should’ve known, he was not your soulmate.

You’d read somewhere about twin flames. Yeah… you had, about the one soul that changes your life.

You’d learned about the importance of the sunrise and the sunset, how beautiful both of them are, and how dizzy you can get when you get to see both because you didn’t get to sleep because you had laughed and kissed all night.

They say time is wise, yet you still were hurting and you still loved him. Because it was like his love was a thread still engraved to your own very soul. And though when you were with him it was timeless, you’d learned to give more minutes to the hours you were with him so you spend just a little bit more time staring into his eyes. How you’d learned about the importance of one’s sight, and how the eyes are the doors to the soul, he’d opened his soul completely to yours. And it was so beautiful and so easy to read.

You’d learned a lot of things, like how to throw pebbles in the ‘right way’ to the river. You’d learned how to lie to your friends so you could go see him, late at night when the moon is the only light shining above yours. You’d learned that mistakes aren’t the end of the world and that you actually are very good at baseball.

Tom had shown you how to distinguish between a guitar and a bass, not sure why you’d always confused them. And that it’s okay to sometimes leave the clothes on the floor if you’re rushing to get somewhere. Or that sometimes the clothes end up on the floor because you’re both… rushing. That it’s okay to have breakfast for dinner and that you can have dessert before the actual main course. He’d also taught you that facetime isn’t as good as being together but it’s enough to listen to each other’s voice. He had shown you that it’s okay to laugh at sex and that sometimes it’s not as romantic as it should be, that sometimes it is silly and other times it’s passionate. That it’s okay sometimes to say what you want to say before thinking.

And you’d shown him how to enjoy a bad movie, or how to tie his shoes this other way, and that though the night kept changing, and you both kept growing and learning, you were still the same. You taught him that it’s okay not to know the lyrics and still sing the song, and that if you add a pinch of salt to the cookies you’re baking it’d make it sweeter.

You’d taught him that Chinese legend. The red thread.

“It is like an invisible red cord or thread which connects you to that one person you’re destined to meet, your true love,” you had told him. “In China it’s around your ankle, I believe… In Japan, male’s thumb and the female's little fingers, and in Korea are both little fingers.”

He’d once, jokingly but not really wrapped around both of your pinkies a red thread.

“I made it visible, see?” He had said.

“You’re an idiot,” you had chuckled.

“What happens if you’re apart?” He had wondered.

“It’s supposed to bring you back together, it…”

“Can I pull it, if I ever need you?”

“I guess,” you chuckled. “I’m not sure.”

“Can it break?” He asked.

“I… don’t know,” you had confessed with fear.

Because you didn’t know. Maybe yours had been broken.

But you kept teaching him things, and he kept teaching you other things. You’d also taught him not to never mistake salt for sugar to add to your tea.

“They’re both a white powder I thought-”

“Yeah I can think of more white powders that would’ve also gotten us in trouble.”

You’d taught him that as long as you were his and he was yours, you’d shine as bright as stars. He’d shown you how to say ‘I love you’ to someone for the first time. Because you had, when you least had expected it, just about a weeks after you’d first dated.

You wanted to order something for dinner, that one night, he was on his laptop ordering food, you were cuddled against him reading who knows what.

“Is it weird I want more fortune cookies? Would you be weirded out if someone was asking for more fortune cookies?” He had asked.

You chuckled. “To get more fortune?”

“To get more cookies, darling,” he had grinned. “Can’t be more fortunate than this, I am dating you, ain’t I?”

“Very fortunate” you chuckled as he was ordering.

“How much food would I have to order for them to send us like ten cookies?” He asked, mostly to himself.

You laughed, “why don’t you bake them yourself?”

“We both know we suck at baking, baby,” he reminded you as he kept adding food to the cart. “Besides we wouldn’t get the fortune paper thing, I like those as book separators.”

He did use them as book separators and liked to randomly leave them on your nightstand

“Why do you want them? We could buy them next week at the supermarket

“They’re so good, darling and it’s not the same, they’re not fate then.”

You only smiled, watching him.

“Why don’t they sell like… the cookies?” He asked again.

“They do—“

“No, not but like at the restaurants because they choose which ones to give you, that is fate,” he continued. “Or like… Okay is this enough food so they think we are like ten people here? Like if I order enough food they’ll send it to us, right?” He kept rambling to himself. “Like okay, we’d have to eat this for a while but baby look at the bright side we’d have more cookies and that would make me happy because I like the cookies, plus I wouldn’t steal your notes to use as a book separator and we could have like enough fortune things to… I don’t know wrap presents with.”

And it had come out, so easily, “I love you,” you’d said without thinking about it, interrupting his rambling. You’d felt it for long enough, first time you’d ever kissed him but somehow you’d never said it.

And he had stopped worrying for the cookies suddenly, as he only looked at you, he hadn’t been prepared. He had only opened his mouth with surprise. He wasn’t as hungry anymore.

“I--” he hadn’t said it back.

“No, I’m sorry, no, no I’m sorry,” you gulped and sat up to get away. “No I didn’t--No, I don’t… I mean, no, yeah I do, I’m… Look you don’t have to… say it…I don’t love—No, I do, I do—“

He had smiled and took a deep breath, with surprise.

You walked away. “No, baby, sorry—Tom, I’m sorry you don’t have to say anything I’ll just—Yeah.”

You had tried to walk away but he had tackled you from behind, and turned you around to kiss you in his very way. “I love you, too.”

And the food had eventually arrived after kissing for god knows how long and you remembered opening that one fortune cookie.

“Love, because is the only true adventure.”

And it had been. The greatest adventure of your life, and it hadn’t been one of those crazy adventures. It had been small, but great. Good enough He’d forgotten one thing, he’d never shown you how to get over him. How to live without him.

And you had said it, how it would never be too late for him to come back. He wouldn’t, you know. But he knew it, you’d always have each other.

You had read about twin flames. How the compatibility and energy is so strong, so, so strong, so meant to be. An intense soul connection, sometimes called a "mirror soul," thought to be a person's other half. A same soul. And at times it did feel like it.

But it doesn’t have to be forever.

It should’ve been, though.

But Tom was easily scared, and maybe he’d felt like his life with you would be forever, and you didn’t blame him for being scared. Finding the love of your life doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have to spend your whole life with them.

“I’m always going to love you,” he had said. You knew he wouldn’t.

But he’d never leave your heart or your mind, no matter what, day, noon, midnight. He was always there, but he had moved on. Or had he, really?

He hadn’t. But both of you had a very different version of the relationship. He had waited for you at that willow tree, you’d waited for him at that café. And it had been like that for a while, both of you waiting at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

He did miss you, very, very much and he also couldn’t get over you. You didn’t know, but even when he was dating this other girl he kept going back to you. He had kept his promise, he would always love you. With every cell, with every bone on his body. With his entire soul, because it felt like it was missing its other half.

He had stopped burning when he was apart from you. No light, no nothing.

Because everything led back to you, everything was about you. And he had bumped into you several more times, you hadn’t seen him, but he’d seen you walking in the rain, and he’d seen you when he stared at himself in the mirror. He saw you in every fortune cookie he ate, or in every book separator he found. He had felt incomplete when he wasn’t with you.

And after you’d broken up, Tom had felt incredibly numb and sad, your pain combined with his. He’d always wondered why that happened how he knew how you were feeling, a hunch he’d say.

He’d always have a song stuck in his head, and he’d be thinking of you at the most random times. He’d always expect to find your lipstick stain on his mugs

He always wanted to call, he never did though. But he was there, even if you didn’t notice. Like how he’d randomly send you a coffee with your friends, asking them not to tell you it came from him, or how if he ever walked by your place, he’d clean the dust from the mailbox because he knew how much you hated when it got dirty. How he had become friends with that guy from the Chinese place you liked to order from and he’d told him to always give you extra fortune cookies.

Tom wasn’t the same when he was apart from you, he hadn’t slept, he hadn’t smiled. But he did see one bright thing because it felt like he was being pulled back to you.

He regretted breaking up because he’d been too scared to admit you were on the other side of the string. He feared it could break. But he was also scared that he would become the person he was before you, and how you probably wouldn’t like who he was before that.

He also didn’t believe in soulmates, until you came. Because he thought And he thought your connection was too strong to be a simple soulmate. His soul and yours were one.

But he’d left because he had to learn the last lesson, the one lesson you couldn’t technically teach him, and that lesson could only be taught by missing you. And damn, did he miss you.

Because no one was you, no one knew his smile like you did and no one could read him like you. Your perfume still lingered and he missed your toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed having to get your hair out of his face when you were asleep. He missed the way you’d leave your books around his house or the way that he heard you sing the wrong lyrics. Tom missed the way you’d kiss his temple when you woke up earlier than him and how you always covered him with blankets. Tom missed looking into your eyes and making you laugh by making a stupid joke, knowing you’d be the only one laughing.

He missed having you around at parties, when all of his friends were talking about things he didn’t like and he looked for you to give you that one knowing look but you weren’t there. He missed you when he got drunk, he missed you when you he woke up, when he wanted to run to you and kiss your cheek from behind. When he wanted to watch a bad movie and laugh at it, he’d miss you all the time.

Tom was gone, yes. But Tom was gone because he wasn’t with you, and he couldn’t be himself again. How could he after you?

Was there life after love?

And eventually he’d seen you, always running into you but not letting you see him because he knew it would hurt you, it hurt him too. But how many times had his shoulder not bumped into yours without you noticing because your head was low. Or how many times had he not heard your laugh across the room and seen you. You were everywhere.

And he didn’t know why he couldn’t get the courage like that one first time when he’d first asked to sit with you, that one time when he’d first kissed you. No other pair of lips deserved to be kissed after he had kissed you.

And life was pulling him back to you but he didn’t know if you’d take him. He was scared that you had moved on, but something told him you couldn’t. He somehow knew that you still loved him because he loved you too.

So he’d sit there, under that willow tree waiting for you to come back. But he was always running out of time, always having elsewhere to be. Because no one ever has time.

You did, too, always rushing and that’s why you never saw him. Until today, with that mug in your hands, watching people, couples. Soulmates. And there you were, at that cafe, waiting for him to come, near that one park with the willow tree where you’d first kissed.

Wishing he would come.

But life is a strange thing, and maybe it had been the fact that the foam on your cappuccino had spoken to you, or the fact that you’d still kept that one fortune paper on the back of your phone, hidden underneath the case, or the fact that you had almost poured salt into your coffee instead of sugar, or maybe it had been that thread around your finger or maybe a coincidence by itself, but somehow you’d left that café that day, willing to go to that willow tree for the first time.

Because no one ever truly has time, but he had pulled the string.

tagging some other people who might like this: tag list @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @happywolves81 @happywolves81 @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @applenter @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @tomzfrog @dark-infernal-instruments @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @tomzfrog @xapham @awkwardfangirl2014 @xapham @tomhollandisagod @xapham @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @lala-florez @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @embrace-themagic @embrace-themagic @sanniegirl1214 @sanniegirl1214 @softholand @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @better-daisy @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter @bizzlepotter @localfangirlx @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @itsjusttor @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @thewayilookatbacon @jungeunave @emjaywrites @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @desir-ae @desir-ae @peterporkpie @peterporkpie @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @quackeroos @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @hollandcreep @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy @rubberducky-jrr @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @annathesillyfriend @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06 @bookworm06 @lala-florez @lala-florez @chaoticpete @bookworm06 @peeterparkr @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @cosmichollands-blog @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na jj @saintlavrents @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @simple-things @sip-portteam @herondale-snow-carstairs @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @harryssuckz @xstarbae @xstarbae @xstarbae @peterbparkerrwrites @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbmineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @aleyabee @lovewolfspirit @viagracex @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @runaway3 @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @noxceleste @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @seaveyheartful @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @calsthomas @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash @i-love-superhero @mandeeleebeebee @captainamirica @dramaticdiva @halparkebitch @uglypastels

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revoleotion · 3 years

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writing prompt: shirota mahiru bumping into a delinquent-looking guy with a black cat of his own in the middle of grocery shopping and he introduces himself as okumura rin

“Excuse me,” the person next to him says, “I think that’s my cat.”

It’s an odd choice of words for an introduction and Mahiru has to hold back a very eloquent “huh” as he turns his head to look at the stranger. At second glance they seem younger than he first assumed; black hair with a tinge of blue, bright blue eyes, something in their face that seems uncanny, unhuman.

“The name’s Okumura Rin,” he says with a small smile that reveals teeth just a little bit too sharp. “You just grabbed my cat.”

Mahiru does what he maybe should’ve done earlier, which is looking into his cart. There’s a cat in there, a cat he assumed to be Kuro when he grabbed it in the sweets section of the grocery store. And while it’s a black cat, alright, the small bell around its neck is missing.

“Oh,” Mahiru says. “Yeah. Uh. Would you believe me that I was not trying to steal your cat?”

Rin nods. “May I?”

“Of course, sorry, I-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Rin grins ever so slightly and reaches into Mahiru’s cart to retrieve the cat that looks, by all means, incredibly unbothered.

“I really thought you were someone else,” Mahiru tells it, hoping that it understands. “I have a cat that looks just like you. Well, it’s less of a cat and more of an annoying roommate.”

“I have one of those too! Otherwise known as my twin brother.” Rin carefully puts the cat down in his own basket. “Kuro has a habit of wandering off because he thinks strangers will give him better food than I do.”

Mahiru looks down on the cat that now curled up in Rin’s basket like it wasn’t just kidnapped by accident.

“Kuro, you say? That’s my cat’s name! Because…”

“... it’s a black cat! Finally someone who gets it!” Rin’s smile is big and genuine, and Mahiru is starting to wonder if he saw him somewhere. He seems familiar. Or perhaps he’s just very nice.

“Do you need help?” he adds when Mahiru stays silent.

“Help?” he echoes back.

“Finding your cat.”

“Ah.”

Mahiru hadn’t thought that far. “He’ll show up eventually, I think.”

Rin looks at him for a few more seconds, then he nods again. “In that case, it was nice meeting you…”

“Shirota Mahiru,” he introduces himself, noticing that Rin’s face does something strange when he says his last name. It’s gone before Mahiru can make sense out of it but it leaves a bitter aftertaste in the air.

“Good luck finding Kuro’s twin,” Rin says. His smile is still big but not as bright. “And uh- take care?”

“You too.”

Mahiru smiles. Rin walks away without looking back at him.

He makes it to the ramen section of the supermarket when he spots a familiar head of blue hair comparing two different cup noodle brands.

“I just kidnapped a random cat because I thought it was you,” Mahiru tells him. Kuro’s face does what might be one of his rare smiles as he looks up to him.

“What a pain.”

“I thought you might say that. It was called Kuro as well, I’m starting to think it was not that much of an original name.”

“Oh, you thought?” Kuro places both cups into the shopping cart without asking for permission and shakes his head. “You’re a weird guy, Mahiru.”

Mahiru can’t help a small smile when his name out of Kuro’s mouth washes over him. It’s a feeling so uniquely connected to being an Eve that it would make no sense to explain it to anyone who isn’t one.

“Are you done here?” he asks. “I don’t want to be late to the meeting with Misono and the others.”

Kuro shrugs, looks around the aisle and turns into a cat before Mahiru can protest. With a small sigh, he reaches down to grab him, the correct cat this time, and places him down next to his cup noodles.

“You’re incredible,” he tells Kuro, who doesn’t bother with a reply. Maybe that’s for the best, they’re in public after all.

“You found him!” Rin says when they meet him at the register. He’s standing next to a tall man who looks similar to him except for his glasses and the moles that spread across his face and neck. His brother, presumably.

“I found him,” Mahiru confirms. “The correct Kuro. Unless someone else lost a black cat at the grocery store.”

The man next to Rin glances down on him with an expression that is impossible to read. Perhaps it could be a smile, if it weren’t so far from being honest. Mahiru locks eyes with him, if only for a small moment, and wonders if they’ve met before. He seems familiar, even more so than his brother. Or perhaps it’s just the air of sadness around him that’s familiar to him.

“You coming, four-eyes?” Rin asks.

His brother winces and pushes his glasses into position even though they didn’t need fixing. “Yes,” he calls after his brother but it still takes a few seconds before he breaks eye contact with Mahiru.

“That’s a demon,” he says quietly. “I think you should know.”

“He’s doing his best,” Mahiru replies because he has no idea what else to say.

“I see,” the man says. He fixes his glasses again, then he turns to leave with his brother.

#servamp #ao no exorcist #fanfiction #mahiru shirota #rin okumura #yukio okumura #kuro #both of them

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andfollowthesun · 3 years

Text

come kiss me silver and gold

written for @dinlukenation's dinluke week day 5! prompt was: knight/prince au.

read it on ao3 if u prefer (5.6k words)

Din is covered in sand and krayt dragon blood and other various fluids when he enters the inn, the smell of it lingering in his nostrils and causing everybody to go silent once he steps past the doorway. Peli swoops the kid from his arms as soon as she sees him, and it’s testament to how exhausted he is that he doesn’t protest. She points up the stairs, “Bath’s waiting for you,” and he only spares her a grateful nod before trudging to his room. He’d usually be a little more considerate— beskar is heavy, and Peli’s stairs don’t deserve his clomping footsteps— but given the day he’d just had, he figures he’s allowed to take a few liberties.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice Luke the first time, because when he comes back downstairs, body and armour clean, vision still tinged the same red fog as the colour of the dragon’s stomach lining, he finds it hard to notice anything but Luke.

He’s sitting in the corner, alone, and that’s the first thing— nobody ever came to Peli’s alone, or if you did there’d be someone trying to swindle you or sell you something within the first five minutes. But he’s just sitting there on his own, a berth of at least four or five seats between him and any other patrons.

The other thing is that he’s so still. Head bent over some papers on the table in front of him, empty plate pushed to the side. Hands steepled in front of his nose, only one hand gloved, brow furrowed. For all appearances, he held himself with the calmness of a man who knew he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it all.

Din tears his eyes away when Peli sets Grogu down on the seat next to him, along with two covered bowls of stew. He reaches to gather Grogu in his right arm while balancing the bowls in his left, to take up to this rooms to eat, but Grogu rips the covering off one of the bowls and in the blink of an eye is wrist deep in food, half of it already smeared over his mouth. Din stares at him, the grainy feeling in his brain meaning it’s a good few seconds before he computes the fact that apparently, he’s so tired even the kid has faster reflexes than him right now. He’s acutely aware of the way his stomach is cramping with hunger, but he knows getting Grogu to stop eating for the five minutes it will take to move them to their rooms will be more effort than it’s worth.

Peli’s smiling at him, a half-crooked, reluctant twist of her mouth, and Din tilts his head in thanks for watching Grogu as he cleaned up. She nods in return before heading back to the kitchen, and Din settles in to wait for Grogu to finish his dinner. He runs a gentle hand over his head, before letting him grab hold of his thumb and chew on his glove. It’s clean. Mostly.

His thoughts are interrupted when the chair across from him scrapes out with a loud screech, and he looks up to see the dark figure from the corner now sitting at his table.

“Hello.”

Din is suddenly glad that his signature response to people introducing themselves unexpectedly to him is to stare them down in silence, because currently, behind his visor, he’s gawping. The man in front of him, for lack of a better word, is bright, even more so now that he’s right there instead of in the corner. Din feels like he can’t look at him directly, needs to steal glances through his lashes instead, like a bloody schoolgirl. But at the same time, he can’t look away.

“My name is Luke.”

And the last sign that Din has completely lost his mind and is going delirious with exhaustion— and perhaps also that he’s getting old if he’s so easily soft for shiny, pretty boys— is that he answers, before his brain has really caught up to his mouth, “Din.” Not with continued stony silence, not even Mando. His actual name.

“Din.” A smile spreads across Luke’s face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Din is thankfully saved from answering when Grogu pulls on his glove a little too hard, overbalancing to tip forward and flip the remainder of his dinner over on the table. Din clucks his tongue, and leans forward to clean up the spill.

“Be careful, kid.” he chides, and he’s in the middle of claiming Grogu’s bedtime as his graceful exit from the conversation when Luke holds up his ungloved hand.

“Let me,” he says, and with a wave of his hand, flicks the tissues across the table to clean up the mess, and then sends them flying neatly into the bin across the room.

“What,” Din says, “the fuck.”

That seems to cow Luke a little, or, at least his smile turns sheepish. “Sorry,” he says, even though he doesn’t seem very sorry at all. In fact, now that Din has been staring at him for a couple of minutes and can decipher some of the twitches of his brow, the jut of his jaw, he seems, of all things, a little smug.

Din refuses to think about how the neat motion of Luke’s hand— something he was clearly practiced in, confident, precise— showed the delicate bones in his wrist, which only made him look more fragile, and Din especially refuses to think about how his mouth had watered with the sudden desire to lick over the joint. He has no interest in competing with some wizard in a weird ego game, no matter how attractive he is, so he gathers Grogu more firmly in his arms and makes to stand, but before he can pick up the other bowl that contains his own dinner, Luke speaks again.

“Wait!”

And there’s something in his voice that makes Din pause; a note that wasn’t there before. It’s not quite a cry for help— Din can already tell Luke is too proud for that— but it’s close. That brightness that had first caught his eye before is more apparent than ever, and Luke looks at Din with pleading eyes that rivals Grogu’s.

God, how is he even prettier like this? He curses himself for being weak, and sits back down.

“Sorry.” Luke repeats. His posture as slumped a little, and the bravado from before is all but gone. It’s like he was trying to be someone else before and now he’s exhausted from the effort. “I’m not very good at this.”

Din tilts his head questioningly.

“Making friends, I mean.” Luke elaborates.

Din has to stop himself from snorting. The last friend he made was Cara, about ten years ago. He didn’t need to make friends. He had the kid. He knew enough people.

Luke takes Din’s silence as an answer, and changes the subject. “What brings you to Naboo?”

This, at least, Din knew how to respond to. “Business.”

Luke’s face goes cheeky. Din knows his answer sounds suspicious on a good day, and he knows that Luke knows that. What he doesn’t know is why Luke’s face now looks like a foundling’s on Life Day, momentarily flooring Din with this new, relaxed, open expression. He’s still holding himself incredibly still, but not like before where he was tensed like he was trying to prove something, or even before that in the corner, when he seemed to be propping himself upright with the sheer force of that stillness. Din finds that he likes this version of Luke best so far, bottom lip full with smiling, one dimple sitting on the corner of his mouth, and despite himself, Din finds himself leaning forward.

“What brings you to Peli’s?” he asks, trying to level the playing field. It didn’t seem fair that Luke already had such an effect on Din, when he was still just sitting there, regarding Din slowly, deliberately.

“What,” Luke spreads his hands. His tone is affronted, but the cheeky smile is still on his face. “A man can’t come get a drink?”

“To Peli’s?” Din doesn’t keep the incredulousness out of his voice, and he only lowers his voice as an afterthought. No need to get on Peli’s bad side, but if Luke wants to be secretive, that’s his own business. Din knows what it’s like to hold everything you know tightly to your chest. It would hardly be right for him, of all people, to judge.

“If I’m being honest,” Luke says, after the silence between them has stretched out to the wrong side of awkward, “I came over because I noticed you watching me.”

“I was watching you too.” he adds, when Din doesn’t reply immediately. Din feels his face go bright red under his helmet, and he watches, transfixed as Luke’s tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip.

“Why?” he asks, when he remembers how to talk.

Luke gives Din an appreciative once over. “You’re not bad to look at.”

It’s such a line that Din is embarrassed it only makes him hotter. He thinks it’s something to do with how Luke has shifted, bodily, the long line of his legs now sprawled out in his seat like he’s on a chaise lounge, not a creaky chair in a dingy bar. But it’s not just that; Luke has shifted in other ways too, and Din can’t quite put his finger in it, but there’s a hungry look in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago, even though that must have been the very reason Luke made his way over to his table. The brightness has dimmed, not like the spluttering out of a torch, but like coals at the bottom of a fire.

The thing is, Din doesn’t do this— doesn’t indulge. The right thing to do, the safe thing, would be to turn Luke down, gently, but firmly, take Grogu back to his room, go to sleep, and head back to Nevarro tomorrow morning.

“It’s my last night as a free man,” Luke says, watching him with those bright, bright eyes of his. His smile is so sad that Din forgets to ask him to elaborate. He wants to wipe away the downturned tick of Luke’s mouth, forget about the dragon, about how the kid nearly died, again.

Luke must sense Din’s resolve caving, because he says, brightening, “So, what do you say you humour someone on his last night of freedom?”

“Who?” he says, pretending to look around, and Luke laughs, the last thing Din can coherently remember is the feeling of his ungloved fingers wrapping around the sliver of exposed skin between Din’s glove and vambrace.

+++++

Din wakes up alone.

Not that he was expecting anything else, but there’s a brief moment while he’s still swimming out of sleep, curled in the warm patch of sunlight that’s filtering through the window, where he can pretend the phantom heat next to him is Luke’s body, bare and soft.

When they’d stumbled up to Din’s rented room last night, Luke’s breathy laugh fogging up Din’s visor as he clumsily bounced his cheek against the beskar in his effort to get closer, closer, Luke’s clever fingers had snuck to the back of Din’s neck, looping to pull him in. And even though there was no indication he meant to pull off Din’s helmet, Din had still flinched, and then marvelled in shock at the way Luke had immediately softened, pulled back, the way he’d been able to read the minute twitches of his body him so accurately already.

“Not the helmet,” he’d said, his voice already a rasp even though they both were still fully clothed.

“Okay.” Luke had said.

And afterwards, when they were both sweaty and Din still trying to catch his breath from quite frankly the most incredible sex he’d ever had in his life, Luke had gotten up without a word, BUT before Din even had the chance to miss him, was back in bed, curled up against Din’s side, finishing off the knot for the blindfold he’d looped around his eyes.

“If you want to take your helmet off to sleep,” he’d murmured softly, and then he was out like a light, leaving Din to stare at him open mouthed for the second time in three hours, stunned at the trust, the thoughtfulness, the vulnerable nape of Luke’s neck.

He’s taken his helmet off with shaking hands many, many times before, but it’s the first time it feels like a benediction.

He shakes himself out of the memory, and rises out of bed. By the time he comes down the stairs, collected Grogu from Peli who is looking at him with a shit-eating grin on her face, he’s mostly convinced himself that he can live the rest of his life with Luke as a sudden flash of brightness, the scent-memory of his skin on the sheets.

Grogu chatters to Din as they walk from Peli’s towards the Naboo Spaceport, and Din makes all the appropriate noises like he can understand him, and he’s concentrating on making sure his kid is getting the enrichment he needs (he read somewhere once it was very important for early development)so he doesn’t notice the unease in the Spaceport at first. But he rounds the corner to where the Razor Crest is parked, and suddenly it’s all there; the prickling silence and sideways glances from the deck crew. Din’s gaze zeroes in on his ship, and he sees the men waiting outside the Razor Crest.

Not just men. Royal guards, from the look of their deep blue uniforms.

They must be on the lookout, because as soon as he steps foot into the hangar, one shouts, “You there!” He keeps walking forward calmly, but he shifts his grip on Grogu to one hand and rests his other hand on his blaster.

“You own this ship?” one of the guards asks once he’s within earshot. The leader, Din notes, spying the gold crescent badge on his breast.

Din nods warily. He’s half-distracted thinking how he can get Grogu to safety, if it all goes to shit, and the other half is mentally running through all of the ship’s modifications. He’s pretty sure most of the illegal ones are well hidden enough that a preliminary search wouldn’t have found them.

“You fought the dragon yesterday?”

Din blinks, jolted out of his train of thought, and he’s too startled to lie. “Yes?” he says, and then tenses, widening his stance a little. Everybody had seemed ecstatic when he’d come back into town yesterday, but the last thing he needed was lord furious about their precious pet dragon being injured.

“Come with us.” The head guard’s tone brooks no argument, and he doesn’t offer any further explanation either. And although his last fifteen years of bounty hunting are all screaming at Din to run, take the kid and get the fuck out of Naboo, there’s a fuzzy feeling behind his sternum tugging at him to follow that makes him feel lighter than a second ago. It’s the same way he’d felt when he’d seen Luke in the inn last night, what had allowed Luke to reach across the table and touch him. And inexplicably, it feels well worn, familiar to him.

Din goes with them.

+++++

Din forces them to circle the speeder back around to Peli’s first, where he drops off the kid. She takes Grogu with a fearful look in her eyes, and Din doesn’t look at her as he presses his forehead against Grogu’s. He doesn’t think about how it could be the last time he sees the kid.

The palace at Theed is built on the edge of a cliff, with domes of gleaming jade and its marble walls carved out straight out of the rockface itself. When they pull over the drawbridge, Din can hear the thundering of the waterfalls, and through the windows of the entrance hall, see the vast ocean to one side, glittering in the sun, and the green of the rolling plans on the other side. It was beautiful and grand and a little bit terrifying all at once, if Din was the kind of person who was impressed by that sort of thing.

The entire trip to the palace is silent, and it’s only when they’re deep into the castle, in front of a huge set of doors, that the head guard finally addresses Din, “Wait here,” before he disappears through the doors.

Din’s stuck outside the grand oak doors, and he briefly contemplates prying one of the rubies or emeralds that are encrusted into the door’s bolts with his vibroknife— could probably get good money for them— and how he could distract the remaining guards around him for long enough to do it, when the doors open.

It’s a throne room, that much is clear, with a lush red carpet and floor to ceiling windows along one wall. The sun is at midday height now, and its glare casts long beams of light across the floor, leaning towards the people at the other end of the room. Din steps through the door and takes stock of his new surroundings.

Seated on the throne is the Queen, who Din understands is well beloved and not at all prone to torturing bounty hunters, although her dark expression says otherwise. To her left, sitting on another throne—although perhaps lounging would be a better word— is a man who Din presumes is the king. In another world, Din knows, instinctively, that he would have been a dangerous opponent, long scar over one eye, shaggy brown hair, gaze sharp and keen. The same can be said for the young woman standing behind him, the same gaze, the same tight line of her lips.

To the Queen’s right stands an old man, white beard and white hair, drab brown robes. He looks mildly more welcoming, mouth drawn up into a soft smile, although Din can still read tension in the way he’s holding himself. And next to him…

Din stops as he looks at the last figure on the left of the room, the warm brightness, the shocked curve of a mouth dropping open. Din remembers how that mouth had opened against his throat last night, hot and wet, and how he’d wanted Luke so badly he thought he might combust.

Luke, who is in front of him right now, in golden robes, nothing at all like the black ensemble he wore last night. Luke, who had disappeared from Din’s bed this morning without a goodbye.

Din feels the mark he knows Luke bit into the inside of his thigh last night throb for a second, and he has to force himself to keep walking down the room. He stops in front of the thrones, and stares at them for a minute, the five of them assembled in front of him.

“What is your name, Sir Knight?” Queen Naberrie’s voice is kind, but there’s a steel underneath. She doesn’t look very happy to be sitting there. Belatedly, Din realises that he probably should have knelt.

Din shakes his head. It’s hard for him to keep his eyes off Luke. “I’m not a knight.”

Her face doesn’t lighten up, exactly, but a flash of humour does cross her face before it’s as gone as quickly as it came. “How would you like to be addressed then, good sir?”

Din tries to hide his grimace at good sir, although he doesn’t think he’s very successful. “Just Mando is fine.”

“Mando,” Queen Naberrie says, all trace of laughter gone from her expression. Beside her, the king’s face goes completely blank, like he’s trying to hide a sudden tide of emotions, and the young woman standing behind him scowls, glaring daggers at Din.

“Naboo is in your debt,” the Queen continues. “We thank you for your act of service.” It sounds like the words are being forced out of her mouth as she says it.

“What?”

The Queen’s expression becomes a little more impatient, a little more sour. Din feels like he’s running out of time, even though he didn’t realise there was any sort of rush to begin with. But before she can say anything, the old man standing the right of her chair speaks.

“You’re Mandalorian?”

“Yes.” Din’s hand goes to his blaster. The old man may not look like much, but Din knew better than to be fooled by appearances. However, the movement doesn’t make him any more tense. If anything, it seems to amuse the old man.

“Padmé,” he says, turning to the Queen. “I don’t believe he knows.”

She turns to her other side to look at her husband, and a silent conversation passes between the three of them, quirking of eyebrows and slight flicks of the wrist. Din takes the moment to drink in the sight of Luke, who is still staring straight back at him, eyes glittering. Din wants to rip those golden robes off him where they’re buttoned up to his neck, run his hands down his sides to the spot where he learnt last night Luke is ticklish, hear the breathy giggle before he firms his touch.

Except Luke is standing next to the throne, not beside him under the coarse sheets, and the distance between them may as well be one of Naboo’s oceans.

“Mando,” the Queen says, drawing his attention back to her. “You slew the krayt dragon yesterday, and in doing so, saved the lives of hundreds of my people. As is tradition, a dragon-slayer is given the princess’ hand in marriage.” She gestures to the girl standing behind the king.

Din’s thoughts come to a screeching halt, and his eyes flicker to follow the direction of the Queen’s finger. The princess’ arms are still crossed across her chest, and her expression looks more thunderous by the second.

“However,” the Queen continues, and Din has to stop himself from sagging in relief, there’s a however, thank god, “my daughter is already promised to another. As such, I hope you will be similarly pleased with my son’s hand in marriage.”

The relief vanishes, and Din turns sharply to look at Luke, who’s practically glowing looking back at him. But all Din feels is the swirling sickness in his stomach.

“No.” He can barely hear himself over the rush in his ears.

The Queen raises her eyebrows. “No?”

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“It is tradition.” The Queen is cool and calm, and it makes Din want to hit something.

“I don’t want him!”

His voice bounces off the ceiling. There’s a shocked beat of silence, and when Din dares to look at Luke, all the light has left his eyes. And no sooner than Din has caught a glimpse of his face, as if Luke senses his gaze— which he probably has— he turns sharply on his heel and leaves the room.

Queen Naberrie watches him, with an eye far too keen for Din’s own liking. “I think,” she says slowly. “We might give these two some time alone.” She stands in a rustle of silk, and gestures for her husband to do the same. She puts a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulders and the old man does the same for the king, guiding them out of the room through a separate door despite the king and the princess’ loud protests.

It leaves Din alone in the throne room, the silence suddenly suffocating around him. The heat from the sun streaming in through the windows no longer feels like an extension of the palace and the view, but instead sharp, urgent, stifling.

Din takes a deep breath, and follows the door Luke had exited through.

It opens out to a courtyard behind the throne room. The air is muggy outside, and he feels the dampness of sweat on his underclothes, the awkwardness of the quiet clank of every movement with the bulk of his armour. Luke is standing on the far side, by a balcony which overlooks the sea.

Din comes to a stop in the middle of the courtyard, unsure if he’s allowed any closer. Last night, he would have said that closing the distance between himself and Luke would have solved any problem between them, healed any miscommunication. He can still feel the phantom strength of Luke’s fingers laced between his, like a balm to his aching joints. Now, he’s not sure if his presence is welcome at all.

“You really didn’t know?” Luke asks without turning around.

Din’s tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. “No.” he says. He knows he’s not saying exactly what he means, because he does, very much, want Luke. Just not like this; passed around like a political jockey, one of the means the end is supposed to justify. Luke, being given to Din like a playing piece in chess, bound to him out of duty, instead of choice. The mere thought of it makes the sickness in Din’s stomach swell up again.

He doesn’t know how to say any of that, so instead, he says, “I wasn’t trying to slay a dragon. I was just protecting my foundling.”

Luke gives a startled laugh. “Of course. Thousands of knights actually trying to kill it and you go and do it by accident.”

They lapse into silence. Din wants to get that awful, stricken look off Luke’s face, but the only way he can think of doing so would be to touch him, just once, softly; cross this vast distance between them and dig until he sees the brightness he’d held to his bones last night. It kills Din to think he’s lost the privilege to comfort him.

“I thought,” Luke says, his voice quiet, wobbly. He takes a breath and starts again. “They told me yesterday that someone had slain the dragon, and I was to be married the next day. Figures the only dragon-slayer I’d actually want wouldn’t want me back.”

He sounds so self-deprecating, none of the soft sureness Din had seen last night, the cocky slant of his smile when he’d wrapped his mouth around Din’s dick. Din wants it back so acutely that he can feel it like a physical weight in his ribs. He doesn’t like this version of Luke, buttoned up tight, uncertain of Din, of the trembling thing they had cradled between them last night.

But he can’t seem to have Luke back without anchoring him to Din, so instead, he says, “I didn’t kill the dragon.”

Luke turns around. “What?”

“I wounded it, sure. But it was definitely still alive when I last saw it.”

“So you don’t have to marry me.” he adds, when Luke just stares at him, but even as he says it, it feels like there’s a crack in his heart. This morning, he’d shored up the hole Luke had left with the curled imprint of his body on the sheets, and now it’s all coming back, all the golden light pouring out with how much Din wants, simply, to hold Luke. Not to marry, not even to fuck. Just to hold.

Luke does not seem to be on the same page as him. “So the dragon is still out there?”

Din nods confusedly, and Luke closes his eyes. “Fuck.” he says.

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Din says. “You don’t have to marry me.”

“It’s still out there.” Luke repeats, but it’s not a question this time, and Din looks away from how he’s wringing his hands, tries not to think about how much he wants to press his palm against Luke’s heated skin, in hopes it would loosen some of this sudden nervous energy. Looking away allows his brain to clear up a little, not completely occupied with the sight and thought and smell of Luke Luke Luke, and it hits him all at once.

“It’s still out there. Oh, god. It’s still out there in the village.” Din feels the dread pool in his heart. “I’m gonna have to go kill it, aren’t I.”

“Well, you don’t have to…” Luke trails off.

Din’s already striding back into the throne room, before a thought occurs to him, and he turns around and goes back to Luke, taking one of his hands in both of his. “If I manage to kill this thing for good this time,” he says, “you still don’t have to marry me. I don’t care about tradition.”

Luke has gone completely still under his touch, just like he was when Din first saw him in the corner of Peli’s, his grip strong under Din’s palm. His eyes are very wide, very blue, and even though Din knows he can’t see through the visor of his helmet, he feels like Luke is reading his face with inexplicable familiarity. With the calmness of a man who knew he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it all.

Din drops Luke’s hand like he’s been burnt and steps away, his face going red with the realisation of his rash decision in the heat of emotion.

Luke says, “I’m coming with you.”

And Din forgets all about how completely inappropriate it was for him to touch Luke like that. “What? No.” Not Luke, with his soft body and curves and bony wrists, who had a family in the palace who clearly cared about him. Who Din still wanted to hold afterwards, and they couldn’t do that if Luke was dead via krayt dragon.

“I can handle myself.” And there he is, Din can see the man last night who wiped the table clean with his freaky powers just because he could; because, Din realises now, he was trying to impress Din, not compete with him. The relief at seeing the glimmer of that Luke again, without the frills and false airs, almost swallows him.

“Also,” Luke adds, as Din is still marvelling at the appearance of Luke’s brash edges again, “if someone else went and killed it now, I would have to marry them. I’m just making sure you make good on your word.”

Din feels a flare of anger in his chest, way too intense for having only known Luke two days, and resolutely puts it out of his mind, deciding to think about it later. But then Luke grabs his hand again, tugging him through the throne room and back to the speeder, and Din can’t find it within him to pull away. He’s only thinking about peeling his glove off so they can be skin to skin, and then peeling that disgustingly impractical gold ensemble off Luke’s body. He’s thinking about how Luke didn’t pull away when he’d grabbed his hand before, and now, how he’d reached first, and the lucent gleam in his eyes when he’d looked at him, like suddenly everything had become clear to him.

And as the speeder roars to life, the warm shape of Luke in the passenger seat next to him, Din dares to hope, could it really be that easy?

+++++

The dragon, surprisingly, is easy enough to kill, what with Din having mostly incapacitated it the previous day when he’d ripped himself out of its stomach. He’s honestly surprised that the dragon had survived long enough to drag itself back to its lair. Luke almost looks disappointed, and if Din’s learnt anything as a bounty hunter, it’s that as soon as you complain about it being quiet is when things start going to shit.

They’re climbing back into the speeder when the first blaster shots are heard, some very angry knights— real knights— who apparently were banking on slaying a dragon and marrying a princess to get fat and rich off the royal coffers, pissed off that someone else had gotten there first.

Din groans, rolling out the crick in his shoulder— after the dragon (twice!), knights seem as relevant as gnats— but he draws his spear all the same. After all, it didn’t matter what killed you, a blaster shot is just as deadly as krayt dragon teeth.

And then Luke, out of fucking nowhere pulls out a green sword and dispatches them all without breaking sweat. Din hasn’t even moved from his spot next to the speeder. A ball of heat shoots straight through his stomach, and he feels his mouth go dry.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you could handle yourself.”

Luke smiles serenely, sheathing his sword. Din feels his stillness again, this time, the kind that indicates imminent danger. Unfortunately, because Din has now accepted that he just functions on a lower brain capacity around Luke, he can feel certain parts of himself getting very interested in a dangerous version of Luke.

“Luke.” he manages. He knows he has to say this before anything else happens. “You don’t have to marry me.”

And Luke just looks at him, patient, light, none of the heavy sadness Din had seen in the courtyard, and Din knows, then and there, that Luke understands, that he’s been able to read in between the lines: everything Din hasn’t allowed himself to want from fear of losing it. Luke knows what he wants to say— what he’s going to say. He just has to say it.

“But would you like to come with me?” he gets out.

Luke’s face breaks open into a smile, like rain after drought, and this time, Din doesn’t stop himself from crossing the distance between them, pulling Luke flush against him by the waist. Luke knocks his forehead against Din’s helmet, and Din closes his eyes, basking in the sheer sense of rightness.

“I’ve always wanted to see the galaxy.” Luke says after a long minute, and Din laughs, feeling so light he could fly.

#dinluke week day 5 #dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #the mandalorian #jo writes fic #i wrote this in under 24 hours lol so #cut me some slack won't ya #dinluke week #dinluke week 2021

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albdodaze · 3 years

Text

blooming. y.itadori

‘i will never, never leave you’ (chapter three)

warnings: none

context: IN WHICH kami gojo, younger sister of certain powerful jujutsu sorcerer, meets an idiot who makes cold barrier around her heart melt.

"Roppongi my ass," laughed Kami, looking at the abandoned old building they were standing in front of.

"There's a curse here," stated Satoru.

"You liar!"

"This isn't even Roppongi!"

"You were toying with us country folk!"

"There's a big cemetery nearby. The double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse," Satoru said, not taking his eyes off the building.

"So they really do pop up more often around graves?" Itadori asked as Nobara shouted evil in the background.

"The issue isn't the cementery itself," Yuuji's head turned abruptly towards Kami, who finally spoke up and a blush came over his face that he didn't even notice.

But Satoru did.

"It's the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear," Kami explained, totally oblivious.

"Oh, it was the same for schools, too, wasn't it?" Yuuji replied, ignoring the heat that flooded him at the sound of the younger Gojo's soft voice.

"Hold up. He didn't even know that yet?" Nobara asked, approaching from Kami's left.

—

"He swallowed a special-grade cursed object? Gross! Unbelievable! That's so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way, no way!"

"This is what I was telling them the whole time," deadpanned Kami, and Nobara grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

"They thought otherwise?!" She exclaimed and leaned her head against Kami's shoulder, groaning at the thought of this. Kami patted her lightly on the head, glad that finally someone understood her.

"What?!"

"I agree with them," Fushiguro said.

"I want to know what all of you are capable of. Just think of this as a field test," Satoru finally spoke up. "Nobara, Yuuji, you two go exorcise the curse inside that building."

"Geh!"

"Huh? But I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right?" Asked a confused Yuuji. "I can't use any jujutsu yet."

"You're basically half a curse already. There's cursed energy flowing throughout your body. Though controlling that energy isn't something you can learn overnight," Satoru said and extended his hand towards Kami, who with a sigh pulled a weapon from the strap tied across her waist and handed it to him. "So use this."

"It's the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It's a weapon imbued with cursed energy. It'll work on curses, too," Kami explained as Itadori marveled at the weapon in his hand.

"Lame," Nobara said, and she and Itadori headed towards the building.

"Oh one more thing! Don't let Sukuna out! If you use him, you'll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you'll also drag everyone around into it."

"Got it, I won't let Sukuna out."

—

"I think I'll go, too," Megumi spoke up after a moment of silence.

"Don't push yourself. You're still recovering."

"But someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?"

"True. But the one we're testing this time is Nobara."

"But don't you think leaving her with Itadori is kinda stupid? I mean, he's kinda... reckless," Kami spoke up, playing with her long hair.

"Also true. That Yuuji... He's missing a few up here," the older Gojo said, pointing to his head. "He has no hesitation when it comes to killing these tings that take form of living creatures, albeit bizzare-looking ones, to try to kill him. And it's not like he's been familiar with curses for a long time, like you two. This boy used to live a normal high school life."

'Normal.' What is normal? Did Kami ever experience or will ever experience something 'normal'?

"You've seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even those with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn't conquer their fear or disgust, haven't you?"

'It will probably be me,' Kami thought, listening to what her brother was saying.

"So today I want to confirm how crazy she is."

Silence.

No one said anything, no one dared to say anything. Because what would they have?

Kami played with her fingers out of nervousness. And she didn't know if it was because of how awkward the silence was, or because she was afraid for the two inexperienced jujutsu sorcerers who were about to face the curses alone in an abandoned building. Maybe it was because of both.

'Or more by the second one,' she thought as she saw the curse fly out the window.

"I'll exorcise it,' Megumi said, looking at the curse.

"Hold on."

Not a few seconds passed, and the curse was gone. It had evaporated. There was nothing left of it but a dirty memory.

"Nice."

"She's crazy, all right," Satoru said smiling.

—

"I live over there! Thanks again!" Exclaimed the boy whom Nobara and Itadori had rescued in the building and whom they had just escorted home, making sure he got there safely.

The Gojo siblings waved the boy away, Kami letting out a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding in. The white-haired girl felt a hand on her shoulder and lifted her gaze to look at her brother, who was grinning at her.

"Are you hungry?" He asked and started to lead them to where three of her classmates were waiting for them.

"A little, I haven't eaten anything all day," Kami said and put her arm through her brother's waist, leaning against him gently.

"Good Joseph!" Shouted Satoru suddenly, directing this to the three waiting on the stairs. "We made sure the kid got home."

Nobara and Itadori sprang to their feet and stood, prepared for the next mission.

"Now shall we go grab some food?"

"Steak!"

"Sushi!"

"Not again," Kami muttered under her breath, and Satoru laughed softly.

"Leave it all to me!" Her brother shouted. "And you, Megumi?"

Megumi didn't answer anything, being too busy playing some game on her phone.

Without waiting for anyone, Satoru put his hands on Itadori and Nobara's shoulders and started walking in the opposite direction, leaving Megumi and Kami alone behind.

'Ouch,' thought Kami as she saw Satoru laughing with Itadori and Nobara.

"Are you coming?" She heard Megumi's voice who smiled gently at her.

Kami reciprocated the gesture and ran to his left, following the rest.

"Oh, I forgot about my biggest haul of the day," Nobara began, walking in front of the rest. " Hey, you," she pointed to Itadori. "Go fetch my stuff."

"Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even."

"We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?"

"What about my raw strength?"

"Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?"

"It's not just that! Right, Fushiguro?"

Silence.

"Huh? What's the matter, Fushiguro?"

"Nothing."

"He's pouting because he didn't get to join in," Satoru spoke up.

"What a child!" Nobara said.

Itadori started laughing, definitely happy. After all, he finally had someone to get along with. And when everyone else joined in, it made his heart fill with warmth even more. But not quite. He didn't hear the laughter he most wanted to hear.

He lifted his gaze to Kami, who was staring dead at him, the corners of her mouth not even lifting for a moment. And that made something in his heart hurt.

Satoru wasn't blind either and noticed something was wrong, slowing his step to walk beside Kami.

"Are you okay?" He asked, leaning over her so only she could hear him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Kami raised an eyebrow.

Satoru watched her closely, observing her every little movement. The way her hands tangled at the back of her body, her fingers playing with themselves. The way her gaze fled everywhere but at anyone beside her. The way you could see her nervously biting her lip and cheeks from the inside. The way she was so tense.

Satoru laughed softly, knowing what's going on and wrapped his long arm around Kami, pulling her close and kissing her gently on the top of her head, a thing he always did when she was sad and a thing that always helped.

This time was no different as Kami closed her eyes, relaxing a bit.

"After all, you know that no one can replace you for me, you're my little sister, no one could do it," Satoru whispered and reached out his little toe, wrapping it around Kami's one, getting at least serious for a moment before returning to his previous state and tickling Kami on her sides where she was most ticklish.

Kami jumped back with a squeal and threw an evil but amused look at her brother, who only winked at her and started laughing, matching Megumi's step.

The little girl's loud laughter rang through the yard behind the house as her older brother tickled her on the ground, laughing along with her. When he finally stopped, the white-haired girl looked at her brother and smiled widely.

"Satoru?"

"Hm?" The white-haired boy replied, falling onto his back next to his little sister and looking at her.

"Will you promise me something?" The girl asked, sitting down on the ground, crossing her petite legs.

Satoru nodded, also sitting down on the ground. The girl giggled softly and extended her hand towards her brother, showing her tiny little finger.

"Promise me you'll never leave me."

Satoru's face fell, and his heart simultaneously hurt and flooded with warmth. Because on one hand, what had it come to that a six year old girl would think anyone would leave her, and on the other hand, this was one of the most adorable scenes he could ever experience.

After a moment of silence, Satoru smiled softly and wrapped his, large compared to his sister's, finger around hers and rested his forehead against Kami's forehead, looking her straight in the eyes.

"I will never, but never leave you. After all, you know that no one can replace you for me, you're my little sister, no one could do it," he said seriously, never letting go of her finger from his as he felt tears coming to his eyes.

He quickly closed his eyelids and pulled his younger version to him, who immediately snuggled into her warm and loving brother.

"I will never, never leave you."

At the mention, Kami's eyes welled up with tears, which she quickly wiped away and pretended everything was ok.

'Then why does it feel like you're distancing yourself from me now? Like you're not proud of me? Like you want to leave me, just like everyone else?'

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Girl Talk (The Song of Sway Lake Fic)

A/N: The moment has finally arrived! The first official collab/crossover between myself and @miss-kittys-magical-library! I’m really excited for how this came out, and how much fun we had writing it together. 😊 Word Count: 3127 Rating: T - mild language, brief mention of blood, discussion of violence

~The Papermill bookstore, Sway Lake~

Selina burst through the door of the bookstore. She almost doesn't wait for Jess to say hello or ask questions. Selina is overcome with adrenaline, the exhilaration of what she did. A giant smile spread across her lips. There's almost a dreamy look in her eyes.

She's covered in blood: her hands, her jeans, the bottom of her shirt. Selina held her hands like a surgeon so she didn't touch anything.

Jess’s mouth hung open while she pointed nervously towards the upstairs. Her friend knew where to find what she needed.

Selina comes out of the hot shower knowing Jess will be in the room waiting. She found clean clothes but stopped to study herself in the mirror. Somehow she felt like her body had changed somehow.

Selina caught a picture of her and Jess and held it up. How far they've come from the girls in the photo on her best friend’s dresser.

She glimpsed Jess in the mirror, a strange smirk on her face. Selina knew something was up. She handed the picture to her friend and spoke,

“Can you believe this was us?”

------

There had been a time in life where Selina and Jess had told each other everything, no matter what. And yet somehow this summer, one of the most eventful in recent history, Jess hadn’t told her best friend anything. Anyone who had spent any time on the lake knew about tensions between the Sways and...basically everyone, but especially Selina’s mother and her relatives. And more than that, it had been kind of nice to have a good secret all to herself for a little while. But she missed her friend, and would have loved her advice on what to do about the boy who was quickly becoming someone important, and a problem for her heart.

She was just thinking about the other girl, wondering if she should call her after work, maybe suggest a bonfire or late night rowboat race like they used to have, when Selina burst through the door. Jess’s eyes fell to the blood first, and then rose quickly to Selina’s face and the expression that didn’t match the apparent situation at all.

A thousand questions raced through her mind as she pointed her best friend toward her bathroom (not that Selina didn’t know where it was by now) and made quick work of closing the shop. She didn’t seem hurt, so everything else could wait. While Selina washed herself clean, Jess dug for any clothes left behind the last time she had come for a visit, and failing that, any old shorts and t-shirt. She left them on top of the dresser and poked her head into the bathroom to gather the discarded bloody garments and throw them into the wash.

Selina was standing in the bedroom, studying herself in the mirror when Jess returned, and for a moment she wondered, again, if her friend was injured.

“Can you believe this was us, what?”

Selina laughed, “These girls. We’re just girls here trying to be grown women. I sort of treated you like I did Sunny.”

She waited for Jess to maybe bristle or tense up at his name. “I marched on to the beach, saw the first girl my age who had SOMETHING in common with me, and declared you mine. We aren't little girls anymore.”

There was a bittersweetness in her voice. Selina didn't even care that she was naked.

Jess laughed. She remembered that day, meeting Selina after escaping her siblings in search of a moment of peace and quiet, far from what actually found her instead. But they had got on so quickly she'd forgotten to be angry about it.

"No, we really aren't," she agreed with a tinge of nostalgic sadness in her own voice.

She leaned back on her hands on the bed, watching her friend study the picture. "I never minded, you know. It was kind of nice to be claimed by somebody. You'll always be my first for that," she bit her lip, hoping the joke didn't come off as uncomfortable given the situation.

Selina finally dressed and sat beside her friend on the bed. Her knuckles caressed the other woman’s cheek before she swept the hair from her face. Without a thought, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips to Jess’s, tongue lingered a bit before she broke away.

“That's from Sunny too.” Selina laid on her side tucked under Jess’s arm. “How is it that I was here for a few weeks, and youuuu have been tramping around Sway Lake with some chick?! Have you gone FULL lesbian?” she dropped her voice low.

Jess turned onto her side, propping a head on her arm to face Selina.

"You two are so weird," she rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Her stomach flipped at the thought of Sunny, eyes cast to the ceiling as her thoughts wandered. She loved Ollie, but there was something raw about the idea of losing the other boy, even though he wasn't really hers anymore and hadn't been in quite some time.

She quirked a teasing eyebrow as she returned to the present moment and the woman beside her.

"If I was going to do that, do you think it would be with anyone else than you? Whoever gave you your gossip needs glasses."

Selina’s mouth dropped open, “There's a guy around here with hair that long?!”

She linked her arm through Jess’s and pulled her in for a hug. The other woman now wrapped up in her embrace. Selina let her chin rest on her friend’s head as she stroked her hair. “You feel happier. Content. Like you're just drifting along. I know you loved Sunny in your own way, but this is different. It's the,” she ran a hand up and down Jess’s body without touching it, “this. Papa would call it your aura.”

Jess grinned. "I am. I'm really, really happy," she answered dreamily. "Ollie's a really sweet guy. But only here for the summer…"

She swallowed down the lingering bitter taste her argument with Ollie the previous morning had left in her mouth, not wanting to burden the conversation with her fears. Especially not when she still had so many questions of her own.

"But don't think asking about my love life is going to get you out of explaining yourself, missy." She teased.

Selina sat up, “Oliver Sway?! Jessica! Come on. Any other Tom, Dick or asshole at this stupid lake. Sunny. Sunny’s RIGHT THERE. Just grab him by the ankle and bring him back to Earth. He needs you.”

She took a breath, “That.. harpie will tear you apart because you aren't good breeding. It's Sway Lake because that's what those upper crust cunts hold over this entire town. Sway. Lakes dont belong to one family, they should belong to EVERY person. Are Sunny and I the only ones NOT under this family’s curse? First Tom, then Nikolai and now you.”

Selina’s voice was full of disappointment more than anger. She looked at her hands. Her palms, white and clean, were just caked brownish red not even an hour ago. “It can't be the both of us.”

"Nikolai?!" Jess asked, staring for a moment before doubling over in laughter. "Oh god it all makes sense now."

She struggled to contain her laughter, gasping for air and wiping away the tears in her eyes from it.

"Fuck Charlotte Sway, I couldn't care less what she thinks," she said, sobering and then sighing. "It's not like I planned on falling in love with Ollie. But I did, and it kinda scares me. I really really don't want to lose him. And he hates her and the whole legacy bullshit as much as anyone. Let it all rot or burn or whatever."

Jess was silent for a moment. It was hard to say Selina was her only or even oldest friend. But they were best friends, for certain, and they knew everything about each other. There were even times when they were younger that Selina and Sunny had talked about soulmates and Jess had wondered if she were hers. Which is why her stomach twisted with guilt as she realized just how unsettled Selina was, and pretending not to be.

"But enough about me, it doesn't matter. Are you okay?"

Selina took Jess’s hand in hers. She laced their fingers together and laid down again. This time she and her friend were side by side. She was certain no one in any spoken language had invented a word for what the two of them were.

Selina knew it was why Leon and Johnny always ended phone calls and visits with long hugs and I love yous. Why Honey and Klaus showered each other with intimacy and affection Honey showed Leon. Friendships that made people question your sexual intentions. It was probably something in the Kostas skin, like a pheromone.

The 23 year old pushed the thought out of her mind that everyone around them was their friend because they didn't have a choice. Instead she squeezed Jess’s hand.

“You know Honey, she holds grudges with a tight grip. There's only two people she hates: Charlotte Sway and Reginald Hargreeves, and he's the one she really wants dead. Charlie is lonely and miserable. That's punishment enough for Mama. Papa always says she would make a great Mafia don. She DID like Tim Sway;

cried when he killed himself. He wasn't even Charlot-” Selina cut herself off. “Either way Ollie must take after him then. I hope he does. I think we played together when we were little?”

She realized she was avoiding the question and wanted to deflect solely on Jess. Sunny wasn't the only one who slept around up here, or had a weird effect. Selina again panicked if maybe, somehow, what was in him was in her. That the Russian on a canoe in the middle of the night would show up in the Village, screaming at her in the dead of night. Some of the guys she fucked flopped around on top of Selina for a few minutes, got off while she stared at the ceiling. Then they laid claim to her like any White guy who thought he owned someone else’s land.

“And don't laugh like that either! I was doing my duty as a future nurse and helping someone who got hurt.”

She watched Jess cross her arms, even on her back. She was giving Selina THAT stare. Selina threw her hands up. “Ohhh,” she whined, ”I was swimming, floating really. Probably out further than I should be in the middle of the night, but that fucking moon. And there he was on his way to get rid of those horrendous jet skis of Jimmy’s. And he was flirtatious and made me groan, but also laugh?”

Selina had pulled her knees up to her chest so she could hug them. A far off look on her face. “And he's very.. I didn't really pay attention to what he looked like. WHO, right? It was just this fire that went through me. Like I knew him?

“Mama always talks about the day I was born and speaking into existence this notion. That every version of her will be loved by and love Papa. She thought it was blood loss creating insanity, but Sunny and I had designs on a love like theirs.”

“And the way Nikolai made me feel, and the way he knew my body? We didn't even fuck; not like that. I haven't cum that hard or much ever. Even by myself.”

“Then he got hurt, and I made Sunny take me to him. Ollie had saved him, right? As we're stitching him back together, I see his face. That face I grew up with three times over. He's fashioned for me, Jess. Maybe like Ollie is for you. But Nikolai is Leon and Nicklaus and Klaus and he's made to be mine.”

"No, no I'm not laughing at that, or you," Jess promised. "Just...the first decent conversation Nikolai and I had, he mentioned meeting someone. Matching his description to you is what's funny. And the fact that you two are such opposites." Jess paused, smiling in fondness for both parties in question. "But it's safe to say he likes you, a lot."

She felt silly now, not putting it together sooner. After all, there was no one else in the world she could think more aptly described as a siren made of the moon. And as funny as it was on paper, something about Selina and Nikolai made sense.

And, it made her heart beat giddily. Her faith in fate was complicated, but when it came to the Kostases, the concept was shockingly simple. And it seemed impossible that this was just coincidence, the four of them tied together like this.

'Or maybe,' she silently scolded, 'it's wishful thinking so you can tell yourself you're not being completely crazy.'

The rest of what Selina said registered belatedly and she blanched. "Wait. That was a lot of blood. Are you saying that it was all Nikolai's?"

“It was,” Selina replied softly.

"Jesus. What did he do, get in a knife fight?" Her voice was a mixture of concern and annoyance.

She could see Nikolai doing something like that, to defend his own pride which he deflected onto Ollie, or for some other stubborn, idiotic thing. And now that there were two people she loved who would get hurt if something happened to him, she made a note to have a little chat with him about being so reckless. And to find Ollie later to check on both boys.

"I know if he had you helping take care of him, I don't have to ask if he'll be alright." She nudged Selina teasingly with a shoulder, hoping to break up some of the heavy, contemplative air settling over them both.

“Knives don't cause QUITE as much damage as you think. Unless you hit a vein. Diego showed me how to do it effectively once. Plus if he's like the others, Nikolai probably prefers fists to weapons. Or the spider monkey sleeper-hold thing Klaus and Sunny do. Although Papa stabbed Uncle Jonny once, it was just an artificial wound.”

Selina suddenly scooped Jess up in her arms so they could go back to a cuddle. She tangled her legs and arms around Jess to sort of dominate her personal space. Her forehead pressed into her friend’s neck.

“He and Jimmy got into it, and they were on the boat dock. Nik slipped and hit his head. Ollie swam for like, the first time ever to get him up into a boat. Had pressure on it. I just stitched him with fishing wire. They'll do better at the ER.”

Selina sighed, “If he's like them he wouldn't die anyways. Klaus died like twice in a few days, also head injuries? Either way, Nikolai would’ve been fine without me.”

Then almost like an afterthought, “Did you say he talked to you about me? Probably something about conquests and the Russian army. But you! YOU FELL IN LOVE this summer! I got my pussy licked and think he's this mythical soulmate. You're in actual, real love.”

Selina propped up on her elbow, “Have you slept together? No I'm sorry, YOU get to call it MAKING LOVE!!” she burst into a fit of giggles around cheeks fired by jealousy. “I am happy for you. I promise. I'm glad Sunny.. I'm just happy.”

"No, actually," Jess said, shifting around Selina so they tucked together more cleanly, like two matched puzzle pieces. This kind of closeness wasn't Jess's favorite thing, but Selina knew that, and Jess trusted that if she didn't need it, she wouldn't be initiating it. "It was surprisingly non-militant. And only one nautical reference."

Jess hesitated, remembering some of the incidents Selina had to deal with and one or two more from the summers that Sunny, or Jess herself, had headed off before they got far enough to be a concern (or for Selina to even know). She wanted her friend to know just what Nikolai had said, and that he very much did not just see her as just some conquest. But the line between sweet and creepy was a hazy one at best. She brought one hand away from the tangle to fret the corner of her thumb between her teeth while she thought it over.

"I'm not saying I'm jealous...but I thought it was romantic. And dramatic of course, look who we're talking about. But dramatic isn't always bad. I wish you'd stop dismissing yourself like that. Soulmate or no, you have some sort of feelings for him which seem serious; one might call it a crush at least. And he made you feel good. He made you happy. You're allowed that. You deserve it. And now, for the moment if not more, you have it, savor it."

"As for Ollie and me..."

She froze, frowning as she struggled to figure out just what to say. There was a part of her that feared a reputation of some kind (even though it was just Ollie that she'd been a first time for, and Sunny, but he didn't count). And another part that wanted to keep it to herself, even though most of her wanted to share. She bit again at her thumb, searching for words.

"It's not that big of a deal?"

Selina bit her lip before a yawn escaped her. “One: a crush is a crush because you can get hurt. Otherwise, it would be called a cushion. I think that's what Papa said once. Or was it Klaus?”

Selina closed her eyes now. “Either way, it's a very big deal! I can feel the difference in you. I want you to be in love. To maybe leave Sway Lake. Come back to the city with me? Close up this place for a few months. You can live with me. Or Oliver for a little while. Oh lovely little Oliver making my sweet Jessica come ‘round again. All your sadness and little pieces everywhere. I couldn't stitch you back together with fishing wire, could I? I shouldn't have let Sunny break your heart. I just didn't want being around me to remind you of him. I'm sorry. But Ollie.. he’ll.. Sorry, I think I'm a bit delirious from adrenaline? Mind if I nap a bit?”

But Selina was fast asleep before Jess could give permission.

Jess shook her head with a smile, carefully extricating herself and tucking her friend into the bed. Selina had given her a lot to think about.

#hopefully this formatting worked #it was not at first #author collaboration #Jess O'Neill and Selina Kostas #Moonbrella Lake Crossover #The Song of Sway Lake fic

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laurenwritesfics · 3 years

Text

Apologies for the month-long wait! It's finally time for the next chapter!

Read the previous chapter HERE. Read the full series on AO3.

CHAPTER FOUR: FOUND

Frank’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He let out a long huff before slapping the dashboard, his eyes coming back into focus, the sight of the car hood crumpled against a guard rail jolting him into sobriety. Turning his head, he followed the tire marks to the center of the road, where the other car had swerved. He had just enough room to squeeze himself out the door, after which he attempted to get the other driver’s attention with a concerned wave. No response.

Walking forward, squinting in the glare of the headlights, the tightness in his chest subsided when he saw the woman behind the wheel, unhurt and breathing heavily. She was clearly just as shaken up as he was. With a light tap of a knuckle against the glass, he encouraged her to open the window. Their eyes met. There was no anger in them, only the softness that comes before an apology. Frank beat her to the punch.

��Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry too, I should’ve noticed you sooner.”

“You had your lights on. I didn’t. It’s my fault. Do you want me to call an ambulance? I wanna do something.” There was a hint of panic in his tone.

“It’s fine, really. I appreciate it, though.” She gave him a small smile and Frank stepped back as she got out the car.

“At the very least I should give you my details, y’know, for insurance purposes.” He fumbled in his pockets for a non-existent pen. Then he pulled out his phone.

“No problem.” The woman unlocked her phone, pulling up her contacts. “My house isn’t too far from here so I guess it could have been worse, right? We’re not stranded out in the middle of nowhere.”

“I guess you’re right,” Frank shook his head lightly in agreement “so what name am I putting in here?”

“Lucy Montgomery.”

Frank tapped out her name and then shook her hand. “Frank Adler. If you need someone to look at the car, I’m actually a mechanic – I could save you a couple hundred bucks.”

Lucy tilted her head skeptically. “If I had a couple hundred bucks for every time a guy said something like that…”

“It’s true, I swear. Look,” Frank scrolled through pictures of his workshop until he reached a picture of the Celestia “this is what I’m currently working on.”

Lucy crossed her arms and scrunched her lips. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s kinda impressive. Do you do this all by yourself?”

“Yeah. This one’s for a dentist in Coral Gables, so if you don’t want me to fix up your car I’ll happily pay for everything.” He was half-joking.

“Nice to see chivalry isn’t dead.” Lucy quipped. “So how come you were out here in the dark anyway?”

Frank was leaning against the roof of Lucy’s car, one hand on his hip. “My niece’s cat went missing. Then she did too. I’ve been out looking for both of them all day.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Kids are impulsive like that aren’t they?”

“You got that right. Mary’s obsessed with Fred. He’s the only friend she’s got.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t wanna put this on you-“ he started, but Lucy cut in.

“No, you offered to help me, so I’m doing the same. Do you have a picture of her?”

Frank nodded, tilting the phone towards Lucy. “She’s a real smart kid. I don’t think she’s lost, just angry.”

“I get that. I’ll keep a lookout and let you know if I see anything.”

“Thanks.” Frank pushed off the side of the car and moved around to the hood. “Y’know I could look at this right now. Probably get you back on the road before FDOT. And I’m offering friends discount…” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“What is that exactly?”

“Usually half off. But for you, no charge. This time anyway.”

“This time? Are you planning on crashing into me again?”

“Not at all. I just mean I can do a better job for less, if you want me to.”

“Huh,” Lucy clicked her tongue “well if you say we’re friends, then I can’t pass it up.”

“For insurance purposes, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

They grinned at each other, then Frank popped the hood and began his inspection.

“You got somebody you can call at home? Just in case I’ve gotta take this into the shop.”

“I’ll figure it out. It looks like you know what you’re doing, so I’m not worried about that right now.”

“So you trust a stranger?” Frank feigned shock.

“I thought we were friends? Friends trust each other.”

“Good to hear.” He paced along the side and crouched to inspect a dent near one of the tail lights. “Looks like we caught each other at the back here. I can bang that right out. No problem. What d’ya say? It’s the least I can do.”

Lucy’s eyes darted from the road to Frank. “The Road Ranger’s here. I think he’s gonna want to take care of it.”

Unbeknownst to Frank, Lucy had called roadside assistance the moment the accident had happened. They rolled up alongside a police cruiser, and both the Road Ranger and an officer walked over. They stopped at Frank’s car first. Frank got up and headed over, ready to negotiate. But there are only so many times the line ‘it’s okay, I’m a mechanic’ can get you out of trouble. Of the two of them, Frank’s car was the only one that wasn’t fit for the road. He was the one who had to find another way home.

As his car was getting inspected, he dialed, first tapping out a text to a friend who took no time at all to offer to take care of Frank’s car. For now, there was no more he could do.

“Hey Roberta, got into a bit of trouble. Can you come pick me up?”

Roberta didn’t ask what kind of trouble he meant. She agreed right away.

Perched on the guard rail, Frank tossed his phone back and forth in his hands as he waited. He cast a glance over at Lucy, who was giving a statement about the accident. It surprised Frank how quickly she walked away. He hoped she hadn’t decided to take the blame.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna ride with us?”

“Us?” Lucy’s eyes narrowed curiously.

“My neighbor Roberta. She looks after Mary a lot. She’s great. I don’t know what I’d do without her sometimes.”

“That’s so nice, I’m glad there’s someone you can call on for support. It must be tough being just the two of you.”

Frank sighed. “It can be. But Mary’s like a little old woman in a kid’s body. She’s so wise, resilient, Diane did a great job bringing her up.” There was a tinge of melancholy in his voice.

Lucy sat beside him. “Diane?” She attempted to meet his gaze. “Oh, God, I shouldn’t-” she stuttered “if I’ve overstepped….you don’t have to talk about it.”

Frank shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Diane was my sister. She died.” This was all he could bring himself to say. Lucy wasn’t prying, but the wound left by Frank’s grief was still too fresh, and a sharp pang of sadness shot through him at the thought of exposing it. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and wrung his hands together, head bowed a little.

“I’m so sorry. Mary sounds like a wonderful little girl, so I imagine Diane was just as wonderful.” Lucy laid a hand on Frank’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“She was.”

Their eyes finally met. They sat in comfortable silence for a few long minutes before the glare of headlights grew brighter. Roberta pulled up and Frank stood, eyes flitting over to the Road Ranger.

“I guess this is you?” Lucy gestured to the car and then shoved her hands in her pockets as the evening breeze tickled her exposed skin.

“Last chance if you want a ride.”

She hesitated for a moment and then turned on her heels. “Let me go talk to the Road Ranger. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Roberta’s window slid down. “I went out for a drive to the beach and found a pearl…” Roberta pointed to the back seat.

Frank leaned in and saw Mary, slumped and frowning. He pushed back, laid his head on the cool window frame and muttered “Thank fuck.”

For once, Mary didn’t chastise Frank and demand a dollar. She sat up straight, gripping the top of Roberta’s seat as Lucy approached the car.

Frank opened the passenger door, stretching across to open the other for Lucy.

“This had better be a real good story, kiddo.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” Mary stared absently through the window at the trees that billowed softly in the wind. “Can we just go home?”

“We sure can. We just have to drop this lady home first.” Frank adjusted the overhead mirror to give Lucy a reassuring smile. She smiled back and adjusted her seat belt.

Mary scanned her face. “Did you hit Uncle Frank’s car or did he hit you?”

Roberta stifled a laugh.

“Neither. We both swerved. Unfortunately Frank was the one who took a hit, but we’re fine.”

Roberta pressed her lips into a concerned line. “I think you should both get checked out at the hospital. Don’t wanna take any chances.”

“If anything changes, I’ll go there tomorrow.” Frank patted Roberta’s hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not hurt, just a little shaken up. I’ll be fine after I’ve rested.” Lucy reassured her.

“If you’re sure…” Roberta gave them both a stern look. She was acting like a mother again. “Where am I taking you?”

“I live over on Jackson. It’s not too far, just past the library.”

“Uh-oh, she said library.” Roberta quipped, noticing the way Mary perked up a little. “This one loves books.”

“Y’know,” Lucy looked across at Mary “I work at the library, so if you wanna stop by sometime I can recommend some really cool books.” She caught Frank’s eye in the mirror. “We have a kids group every Saturday.”

Mary winced at the word. “I’m not a kid. I’m just me.”

“Hey, watch your tone,” Roberta admonished “this lady’s being nice.”

“Sorry.” Mary mumbled.

“It’s okay.” Lucy twisted slightly to face her. “I get it, I’m a stranger, it’s weird. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“It’s a nice thought, so thank you.” Frank reached over to tap Mary’s leg. “Mary, what do you say?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. And it’s nice to meet the girl I’ve heard so much about.”

Mary cocked her head. “Really?”

“Yeah, Frank told me all about how awesome you are – and brave – you must really love your cat to go out looking for him for days on end like that.”

“Uncle Frank told you about Fred?”

“He did. Wanna tell me a little more about him?”

“He only has one eye and he’s my best friend.” Mary said matter-of-factly. Frank coughed loudly. “Okay, Roberta and Uncle Frank are pretty cool too I guess.”

“Seems like it.” Lucy chuckled. The library passed them by and Lucy directed Roberta down Jackson Road. “Alrighty, this is me. Thank you so much for doing this.”

“No problem.” Frank and Roberta said in unison.

“It was nice meeting you, Mary. And you too, Roberta.” She got out and proffered a hand. “If I need any help with the car I’ll be sure to give you a call.”

With a brief handshake and a bright wave, the hectic night was finally over.

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#Lauren Writes #laurenwritesfics #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader #Frank Adler #chris evans #Mary Adler #McKenna Grace #Octavia Spencer #Chris Evans fanfiction #fic rec #gifted #The Pieces We Leave Behind

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phantom-curve · 3 years

Note

For your prompts: 5. trepverter for Willex, please?

this one kind of got away from me, but hopefully it still mostly captures the essence of the prompt! and if not, it's at least a cute little fluffy Willex moment that I thoroughly enjoyed writing. set in an AU where the boys are alive, here is some flustered Alex ft. supportive Reggie and Luke.

trepverter - a witty response or comeback you think of only after it's too late to use (Rated T for swearing with a Trigger Warning for mentions of homophobic parents)

They say hindsight is 20/20 but Alex never really paid much attention to that until the day he found himself knocked flat on his back, elbows scratched and head pounding as if he had been hit by a freight train instead of an irresponsible skateboarder. It probably didn’t help that he had been in the middle of trying to calm himself down, all the signs of an impending anxiety attack mounting within his system until he had finally just put his feet to the pavement and started walking to get some of the overwhelming energy worked out of his system. He probably could have been more attentive, more aware of exactly where he was going and who was headed his direction, but he figured it would be fine on a random Wednesday morning in October when the tourists weren’t really around and most kids his age were in school.

Alex wasn’t in school because his parents had withdrawn tuition payments after he had finally worked up the courage to tell them he wouldn’t be bringing a nice girl home because he didn’t want to date any girls, in fact he would much prefer to date some boys, but the pressure of keeping his identity a secret hadn’t made that possible either so he was done hiding and he hoped they could accept that. Turns out they couldn’t accept that, or him, once he made it obvious he wasn’t going to go back in the closet or give any girl the chance to “change his mind”. As if that was even possible.

It hadn’t been a big blowout, more of a silent retreat, his parents completely withdrawing any and all support from his life over the course of the last few months. And apparently that included tuition, as Alex had discovered that morning when the school called to inform him they had finished completing his withdrawal forms, and they would be sad to see him go. Which had led him to the boardwalk, and then directly into the path of whatever hooligan that had crashed into him. Maybe if he had just been able to keep his mouth shut for 3 more years he wouldn’t be lying here, breathless and bruised, and still on the cusp of absolutely losing it.

Hindsight, Alex thought to himself as he stared up at the clear blue LA sky, can absolutely kiss my ass.

“Awh, man!” A voice above him whined. “You dinged my board!”

Alex toppled off of the anxiety ledge and straight into an ocean of lost control.

“Dinged your board? Dinged your board!? Dude, you ran me over!”

He punctuated his statement by leaping to his feet, which would have probably been a lot more threatening if he didn’t immediately stagger, hand held to his head as the world spun and his stomach rolled.

“Oh shit.”

The voice cursed quietly, and then Alex felt warm hands against his biceps, steadying him until everything slowly came back into focus. There was a boy standing in front of him, black cracked helmet perched on his head, soft brown eyes staring at him with a tinge of concern and remorse. When it was clear Alex was steady once more, he released his grip and offered an easy-going smile.

“You’re right, man, I totally pancaked you. My bad, are you okay?”

There was a weird feeling in Alex’s gut. Not the kind of sickening wave of nausea he had experienced when he first stood, but more of a fluttery feeling. His brain had quieted somewhat, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just look where you’re going next time.”

His voice came out soft and almost breathy, not at all the warning tone he had meant to use, and Alex could feel his cheeks warming slightly in embarrassment. The other boy’s smile grew. He reached up and unclipped his helmet, lifting it off and then tossing his head back as a cascade of long brown hair tumbled out. A few stray pieces fell to rest alongside his face and Alex felt his mouth fall open slightly. His stomach swooped and then dropped completely, like he had just plummeted from a rollercoaster and his mind went blissfully blank. Everything narrowed down to the absolutely beautiful boy standing in front of him, face awash in golden morning light, cheeks flushed from his exertions, dimples and white teeth on full display as he grinned yet again. Alex wasn’t sure he had ever met someone so blindingly attractive in his entire life, and then the boy winked, winked!, and lifted a hand out towards him.

“I’m Willie.”

It was the best name Alex had ever heard of. When their palms met, a spark shot up his arm and straight to his heart.

“Alex.”

Thank God he remembered how to talk, because he truly hadn’t known what to expect when he opened his mouth. Willie released his grip and Alex left his hand suspended for just a second before he pulled it back and shoved it into the pocket of his jean jacket.

“Nice to meet you, Alex. Listen, I really am sorry about knocking you over. Any chance I can make it up to you?”

It took Alex an uncomfortably long amount of time to process what Willie was asking. Long enough for him to panic and wonder if it was like a date or if it was like a pity thing or oh God what if Willie wasn’t even into guys and Alex was about to make this whole thing super weird and –

A chirping sound came from Willie’s pocket. His eyes flitted away from Alex’s to pull a phone out and check the screen. Alex felt a strange twist in his heart as he watched Willie’s easy smile fall only to be replaced by an annoyed grimace and eyeroll as he silenced the phone. Without skipping a beat, he thrust it back into his pocket and pulled out a sharpie instead. Alex barely had time to register how much he liked the way Willie’s hand felt on his forearm before the other boy was suddenly bent over it and there was a cool sensation sending goosebumps up his arm as the tip of the marker scratched across his skin. When Willie pulled back, that brilliant smile was back in place and his eyebrows were dancing so merrily Alex wanted nothing more than to watch them forever.

“I gotta go, but that’s my number. Text me sometime.”

And then, before Alex could work up the nerve to say anything, Willie was tossing his skateboard to the ground only to chase after it with a few bouncy steps before jumping onto the deck and quickly making his way down the boardwalk, away from Alex. He watched for longer than it was probably acceptable until Willie was nothing more than a speck in the distance. Only then did he look down to see the numbers sketched onto his forearm in orange ink.

(213) 555-3276 Willie<3

It was the heart that did him in. That heart had to mean something, right? It was intentional. Willie had written his name with a heart. Alex wasn’t making that up, it was inked onto his own arm! He studied it as he sat on the beach, mind silently replaying every single second of his short interaction with Willie over and over again while different groups of people came and went around him. There had to be a reason for the heart. Alex fiddled with the braided rainbow bracelet on his wrist, the motion familiar and soothing. Had Willie noticed it when he grabbed Alex’s arm to write his number on? Was the heart some kind of sign?

Alex let out a groan and fell back against the sand, the texture scratchy against the back of his head where a slight throbbing still persisted. Another silent reminder of his morning encounter. He wished he had thought to say something when Willie had asked him about making it up to him. Wished he hadn’t panicked or let his stupid brain go into overdrive worrying about what might happen for so long that nothing ended up happening. If he could go back, he would have told Willie, yeah, he could make it up to him. Maybe take him out to coffee or dinner and a movie or ya know, just any kind of date in general? But Alex wasn’t that smooth, and he wasn’t quite that confident yet. And now all he had was a number in orange ink and a name with a heart and absolutely no answers to the millions of questions crowding his brain.

He let out a deep sigh and sat up again, before finally climbing to his feet. It wouldn’t do to sit and worry, even if that was kind of his specialty. Luke had a girlfriend now. And Julie was incredible, and Luke was a disaster, so obviously the guy had to have some kind of game. Alex couldn’t quite believe it, but maybe he could give him an idea of what to do in this situation. Alex turned his feet towards the apartment the boys had been sharing since Luke turned 18 and left his parents’ house for good and started the long walk back to their shared home.

Luckily, both Luke and Reggie were home, which meant Alex had two sounding boards for his word vomit as he paced in front of where they were sat on the couch. Reggie was kind of like a puppy in the sense that all he had to do was exist and people flocked to him, so he also had more experience than Alex did when it came to figuring out someone’s true intentions after a first meeting. By the time he had finished giving the boys the run down, he was feeling like they might be able to put their collective braincell to use and figure out exactly what the best course of action would be here.

“Yeah, man, I got nothing.”

Alex groaned and Luke held up his hands defensively.

“Look, dude, just cause I’m dating Julie doesn’t mean I know how I pulled it off! I’m just hoping my luck holds out until I can convince her to marry me, okay?”

Reggie was nodding thoughtfully, so Alex held out hope that maybe he would have some words of wisdom.

“I mean, he sounds like he wanted to at least like...talk to you some more, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given you his number. And the heart is promising!”

Alex let it soak in for a second. An idea struck him out of nowhere.

“What if I just text him and tell him he can make it up to me by going on a date?”

“Bold moves, dude. I like it”

Of course, Luke liked it. It was a very Luke-inspired move. But Alex didn’t quite have the same guts as Luke. He didn’t think he could really pull it off.

“Ugh, no. My anxiety would skyrocket the second I sent the text. I just wanna know what the heart means!”

“Why don’t you ask him that then?”

Alex didn’t like how Reggie was the voice of reason here. That was supposed to be his job.

“Because if I ask him that he’ll know I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“You have been thinking about it all day.”

Alex finally reached his physical limit and stopped his pacing to fling his body onto the couch between Luke and Reggie, both boys catching different limbs and silently shifting to accompany his sudden presence.

“I don’t want him to know I’ve been thinking about it all day! That’s pathetic. Ugh, why didn’t I just say something in the moment!”

Reggie’s fingers were gentle against Alex’s scalp as he carded a hand through his hair reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Lex. You’ll think of something to say when the time is right. Release your worries to the wind and all that other junk, ya know? Just breathe.”

So, Alex breathed and tried to surrender his obsession into the ether. Reggie had been on a bit of a self-help kick lately, but honestly, it did help Alex more often than not, so he resolved to try and follow his best friend’s advice, even as his anxiety raged against the idea.

Turns out, the right time was exactly 11:43 pm when Alex suddenly awoke from a dead sleep where his dreams had been invaded by none other than Willie himself. He looked down at the number, the hastily scribbled name, and the accompanying heart bright against his pale skin even in the darkness of night and typed the message into his phone before he could think twice about it.

To: Willie<3 Considering you pancaked me, I think it’s only fair you make it up to me with a pancake breakfast. 9 am at Sandy’s Diner?

The responding message was almost instantaneous.

You’ve got yourself a date. Catch ya in the morning, pancake ;)

And for the second time that day, Willie wiped Alex’s mind completely blank, the word date playing on repeat until he fell asleep with his lips still curved into a smile, visions of a certain long-haired pretty boy dancing through his head.

#in other news this is my 1000th blog post!#feels appropriate to honor that with Alex losing his mind over Willie for 2k words straight #mads writes #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willex fic

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//kiss kiss fall in love. oikawa tooru//

Request: Oh my GOD kiss kiss fall in love I WANT TO SEE AN ACTUAL FIC but even the summary was SO GOOD HFUAEILWfdbj

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.6K

Notes: all the consensual kisses in this are v sexc bye

September 13, 2006.

Age 12.

“Did you hear that Kaori and Iwaizumi kissed?”

Your head snapped away from the court below to look at the boy next to you on the bleachers. He sounded so nonchalant about the whole thing as if he hadn’t just shared some incredibly hot middle school news.

“Really?” You ask.

He nods quickly, wide brown eyes following the ball as the high school students from Aoba Johsai squared off against a lesser opponent in this round of the tournament.

First kisses had been the talk of the grade lately. Who was having their first kiss with who? What was it like? Are they dating now? But as all of your other friends finally took that plunge, washing away any childishness as they indulged in their first big kid activity, you and Tooru had been left in the dust. Your other classmates would be sharing the stories of how it happened and who it was with and when asked about yours, all you could do was look towards your feet and shake your head, telling them that you hadn’t had your first kiss yet. They would all get a sad look in their eyes, but they would pat you on the back, repeating that phrase that you had heard ever since this all had started. “It’ll happen eventually.”

There was an unwavering pressure being placed on you from your classmates and Tooru had felt it bearing down on his shoulders too. Out of your group of friends, you two were the only ones who hadn’t had their first kiss, but there just wasn’t anyone that you wanted to share that important rite of passage with. Even still, you just wanted to get it out of the way. You just wanted to be able to say that you had finally had your first kiss.

“You know, I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed with this first kiss thing,” Oikawa says. “It's just a kiss. It’s not that big of a deal. Older people do it all of the time, so it’s obviously not super important.”

You just shrug in your seat next to him. “I think it’s because it’s the first one, you know? Like, the first time you got to play in a game was a big deal, because it was the first time. It’s something that you remember.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He was trying to play it cool, act like it wasn’t bothering him, but the slowly quickening bounce to his leg was telling you otherwise. He had long since stuffed his hands in the pockets of his Kitagawa training jacket and he was awkwardly biting the inside of his cheek. As much as Tooru hated to admit that he cared about something as silly as a kiss, he couldn’t help but feel left out as now even his best friend had left him behind in the dust.

You weren’t sure what shocked you more about the moment to come. Was it his words? Or was it the fact that Oikawa Tooru actually looked away from a volleyball game?

“We could kiss.”

You were taken aback, eyes wide as you stared at him. “What?”

“If we kissed, we could just get it over with.”

“Won’t that be kind of weird? I mean, Tooru, we’re friends!”

He simply shrugged his shoulders again. “Then let’s not make it weird.”

You take a shaky breath and nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s kiss.”

Tooru nodded as he scooted closer to you. He could feel his face burning with the heat of embarrassment and the way his heart pounded in his chest was surely loud enough for you to notice. “So, do I just-?” He placed his hands on your cheeks abruptly, making the moment significantly less romantic than you ever thought it would be as your skin stung from the not-so-delicate contact. He started to lean in, but he stopped right before he was close enough to place his lips against yours. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

And without any more need for reassurance, it happened. Oikawa Tooru stole your first kiss and you took his. You didn’t expect his lips to be as warm as they were, nor did you expect to like the way his hands felt against your face.

But as soon as it began, it was over and Tooru awkwardly slid away from you, his eyes immediately returning to the volleyball game at hand. If it weren’t for the intense redness that was creeping up his cheeks, you’d be convinced that it was all just in your imagination.

“That was nice,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your fingers brushed over your lips, feeling the place that he had been just moments ago. Your voice was as small as his as you let out a simple, “Yeah.”

March 24, 2011.

Age 17.

It was supposed to be fun.

They told you that this would be fun

This was not fun.

Being surrounded by your classmates, faces full of make-up and hair still expertly done from your time at the school dance, was the last thing that you wanted to do. You just wanted to get a cheeseburger and go home, but no. That would’ve been too easy. That would’ve been no fun. Tooru didn’t have to beg too much to get you to cave. After years of friendship, he knew you better than he knew himself. He knew how to make you melt, how to get you wrapped around his finger to do what he wanted. His secret weapon was never used for more than asking you to buy his lunch when he forgot his wallet or asking you to stop by his house on your way to school to grab some homework he forgot, that is-

Until now.

You had been roped into the teenage favorite: truth or dare. Tooru had shown you those puppy eyes, pleading with you to play. “Just one round. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

And that was all it took for you to take a spot on the floor next to your childhood friend, cups of an undisclosed beverage in your hands. His free hand found a comforting spot on your knee, a small attempt to help calm your nerves, but to no avail. Even his soothing, “You’ll be okay” wasn’t enough.

The turns bounced from person to person. Tooru had to try to do a backflip. Mattsun was left singing Disney love songs to Hanamaki. Iwaizumi, who knew better than to pick dare, had to share his most embarrassing story about himself. Some girl had to share the last time she cried (it had been earlier that day as she got ready for the dance). But, when she pointed at you and asked that fateful question, you stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

You knew better. You swear you did. But, the “dare” just passed from your lips too easily and there was no going back. You had signed away your fate and would ever remember whatever social torture they were going to put you through.

“I dare you to make out with someone in the circle.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little much?” Oikawa pipes up.

“If Y/N doesn’t want to do the dare, then that drink needs to be finished,” the girl states simply, pointing towards your cup.

“Tooru, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a kiss,” you say, trying your best to hide the nervous shake in your voice.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispers, but when you just shake your head, nudging your knee against his, his stern expression shifts into one that’s more shocked at what you seem to be insinuating. “Are you sure?”

“If you’re okay with it, yeah.”

It would be easy. It’s not like you haven’t kissed him before. Sure, that was five years ago, but the two of you were able to kiss then without anything becoming awkward, surely you could manage it again.

But, his hand felt so warm as it slid to the back of your neck, his other hand resting on your knee to brace himself. His eyes flitted down towards your lips and you could see him swallow hard before closing the gap between you. He let your hands settle on his chest, feeling the muscles that had formed from so many years of rigorous volleyball training under the thin material of his shirt. It was weird to feel his tongue slipping past your lips to further deepen the kiss, but for some reason, you found yourself not minding having his lips pressed firmly to yours. If anything, it felt natural, like that’s exactly where they belonged.

And then, Tooru slowly pulled back from you, wiping the small string of spit from his chin. Just as soon as you were starting to enjoy kissing him, it was all over and you were both left to just sit back awkwardly in your spots as if you weren’t riddled with embarrassment that an entire room of people just watched you make out with Oikawa Tooru.

March 28, 2011.

Age 17.

The kiss wasn’t meant to change anything. You should’ve been able to walk into school that following week and go about your usual business, laughing and chatting along with the others in your friend group. But, as soon as you took your seat at the lunch table, Tooru started packing up his things, telling everyone that he had to go finish a test during lunch. You should’ve been able to hold a conversation with Oikawa that lasted more than thirty seconds because he said that he had somewhere else that he needed to be. And maybe he did have to be at all of the places he said he did, but his unwillingness to be anywhere near you had started to gnaw away at your mind. Had the kiss really been that bad? Why did he seem so embarrassed to even be around you?

You held his jacket tightly in your arms. He had loaned it to you after the party as the night air had grown chilly and as you stepped into the gymnasium after school every pair of eyes were on you. All except one.

Tooru’s head was trained forward, focusing on the ball in his hand as he warmed up. It was as if he didn’t even notice you were there and if he did, he sure didn’t seem to care all that much. At least, not until Iwaizumi landed a swift kick to his backside, eliciting a tiny yelp from the setter as his brows furrowed tightly. With the ace pointing a firm finger in your direction, Tooru raised his hand up in greeting as he walked towards you.

As cool as he tried to look, he was sure that you could notice the slight tremble in his hands or even the soft pink that tinged the tips of his ears. His radiant smile stretched across his face as he took his jacket out of your arms. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” he stated plainly, trying to turn around before you could say anything further to him, but your fingers gripping the tail of his shirt brought him to a quick halt.

“Tooru.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re avoiding me.”

He tilted his head, a bemused look on his face. “Why would I do something like that?”

“You tell me. This is the longest conversation we’ve had since Saturday,” you say.

“I’ve just been busy, Y/N.”

“So this isn’t about-”

You’re cut off by his bright laughter tinkling in your ears. “About the kiss? No, Y/N. You said it yourself. It’s just a kiss.” He smiled softly, giving a gentle pat to the top of your head before turning fully away to return to his teammates.

Maybe it was just your imagination, but there was a hint of sadness in his final words that matched the almost pained smile that was burned into your memory. But, there was nothing further that you could do. He had walked away from you without another word of explanation and your only option was to turn and walk away yourself.

March 30, 2011.

Age 17.

can we talk?

That’s all it had said. There was no note as to what was needed to be discussed, just a simple question that bore the weight of the world in three short words. It had all of the anxieties bubbling in your chest as you stared down at the notification that was attached to his name. Was this it? Was Oikawa Tooru finally going to tell you that things had just gotten too awkward after that kiss and that it would just be better for the two of you to stop being friends?

Yeah

Your fingers reluctantly tapped at the letters on your phone, watching as the little bubble showed up on your screen with the three dots to show that he was typing out his response.

i’ll be over in 5

You wanted to object. You wanted to ask if he could just text you or if this could be settled over a phone call. The moonlight filtering through your window gave you a decent enough indicator that it was much too late for you to be slipping out of the house to have a secret rendezvous with Tooru just so he could friend-break up with you. But, after all of these years, you knew that it would be hopeless to say anything in an attempt to convince him otherwise. His mind was made up and you were almost certain that he was already leaving his house before you even had the chance to answer his initial text.

But it was out in the inky blackness where the stars sparkled like infinite fairies dancing in the sky, Tooru stood waiting, his arms huddled tightly against his form in an attempt to find warmth in the chilly March night. Yet, when he saw you approaching him, it was like every bit of cold jumped from his body as happiness warmed his body, a smile stretching over his lips.

There was something about the solitude of the night that had sprung a new confidence into him. Here, in the silence, with only the moon as a witness, there was almost nothing holding him back. Even the unamusement that was etched over your features wasn’t enough to shake him.

You tweaked an eyebrow at him, a sigh leaving your lips as you just stared at him. “So?”

Oikawa Tooru’s lips had been against yours three times now. Each one before had been nothing in comparison to the emotion that he poured into this one. His hands had found their place on your cheeks, the warmth of your own clinging onto his wrists as if to ground yourself to reality. It was a kiss that said everything that he had been wanting to tell you, but was too nervous to put into words. A wordless “I love you” had melted so seamlessly into the slow movements of his mouth, washing away all of the worries that had been plaguing your mind.

You could still feel his warm breath against you as he pulled away slightly, eyes slightly lidded as a content expression fell over him.

“Maybe it wasn’t so much something that I wanted to tell you, but rather something that I wanted to do.”

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa - bonus points to alex for being my beta 😭}

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #oikawa #oikawa tooru #tooru #oikawa x reader #hq #haikyuu imagines #imagines #x reader #seijoh #tooru oikawa #hq x reader #hq!!#fake fics by shitty #but i make them a reality #please for the love of god show this some love 😭#i worked so hard on it

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drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

Colorblind

masterlist request guidelines yes ma’am i’m back

pairing: draco x gryffindor!reader

request: yes! thank you kind anon :) this is the first request that really got me out of my writer’s block so i appreciate it!

summary: soulmate!au where the entire world is black and white except for your soulmate. y/n’s situation is a bit...unconventional.

warnings: swearing and a little gore but it’s not explicit at all and just a mention

a/n: helloooooooo everyone! i know i’ve technically been “back from the dead” for nearly a month now, but this is the first time i’ve decided to jump back into writing. i’ve been working on the wonders of ohio bit by bit and have been horrified to see just how much my writing has deteriorated since last summer (when i was writing 1k words+ a day). i’d like to get into writing genuine original work during this quarantine, so i’m using my blog as a chance to polish up my own writing and work the kinks out before i touch my original ideas. thanks for being so patient with me !

music recs: figure 8 from peach pit, don’t delete the kisses from wolf alice, and bad things from cailin russo

word count: 3,098

Y/N frowned as she stirred the honey into her tea, watching the sugary swirls as they dissolved into the bottom of what she had been told was an amber drink. Her best friend, Tina, sat across from her in her snug Gryffindor robes, energetically recounting just how beautiful the color blue was.

“I had no idea, Y/N,” the brunette gushed, her cold triangle of buttered toast lying long forgotten on her plate as her hands added animation to her story. “You have to see it. He told me that the red in our robes brings out my eyes too--something about the color wheel and how green is opposite of red--and we made each other hold up our things so we could see what color its meant to be...honestly, it was such a dream...”

Even though Y/N was thrilled that Tina had found her soulmate in the convenient place of the Ravenclaw house--really, she was ecstatic for her friend--she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. She did quell the bitterness and envy that threatened to crawl its way up out of her throat, instead choosing to sit and pretend to listen as her own thoughts trailed off with a vacant smile on her face.

She’d been alive for 16 years, seen everyone there is to see at Hogwarts, traveled to every country that had a sizable young magic population, and had let her parents submit pictures of her to wizarding families all across the globe--only to still live in a dull world of simple blacks, whites, and greys. Friends like Tina had told her vibrant stories of the stunning hues of green, blue, red, purple, and gold, but Y/N had no way of knowing what they actually looked like, relying instead on her parents’ soft explanation of green as the color of life, blue as the color of peace, red as passion and anger, and yellow as the feeling of the sun hitting your skin after a long winter.

Infuriating. She despised the security questions she had to fill out to open her Gringotts account (What’s your soulmate’s surname? What’s your favorite color?) and the unimpressed look of the goblin teller as they quietly conferred with her parents (”Sir, we rarely have complaints over this--statistically speaking, soulmates are found by the time a wizard or witch is old enough to handle money...).

In other news, her love life was barren and dry, and at the end of the day, it was better to just not dwell on where she fell short.

“I’ll stop going on about me,” Tina said, finally reaching down for her breakfast. “I want to hear about you. I’m so sorry that you have to put up with that crabby posh Daddy’s boy in Potions. You have my moral support. Always.”

“You mean Malfoy?”

Tina quirked an eyebrow as she took a sip of her own tea. “Yeah. Y/N, I have no clue how you’ve gone so long without being put off by that wanker. He’s so annoying. I know you don’t believe me, but you’re about to see for yourself in...erm..” She made a show of checking her pocket watch. “Less than an hour.”

“He doesn’t seem that bad,” Y/N countered. “I’ve spoken to him once or twice in the library. Doesn’t have much to say, but he was cordial. I’m not horrendously upset that we were assigned to be partners.”

“Did he know you were a Gryffindor?”

“I have no idea. Neither of us were wearing our robes, so I couldn’t tell you.”

Y/N’s friend rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re going to be singing a very different tune come lunch. Trust me.”

<^>

The wooden stool that Y/N was perched on was uncomfortably wobbly as she waited, albeit a little nervously, for her potions partner to arrive. It had been an unwelcome selection process--or perhaps, lackthereof--that began with Slughorn reading off a canned speech regarding house unity and the importance of bridging the gap between old rivalries and ended with groups that consisted of one Slytherin and one Gryffindor and directions to create an immaculate Draught of Peace.

Not her favorite way to spend a Friday morning, but she admitted to herself that it could be far worse. She could be paired up with one of Malfoy’s goons--Crabbe or Goyle--who were by far much more obnoxious.

A slight movement in the corner of her eye pulled her attention back to the present. Y/N started at the dark figure standing by the empty stool next to her.

“Excuse me,” Malfoy said simply, placing his satchel on the table in front of them and sitting.

Y/N sent him a weak smile as she unrolled her parchment and began reviewing the ingredients.

“I don’t mean to sound brash,” she began as she sorted the ingredients at their table, “but I’m pretty good at Potions. If you want to, you can just read the directions while I prepare everything.”

He seemed like he wasn’t quite listening to what she was saying, instead his eyes, unfocused and slightly cloudy, were settled on her braid that snaked around her shoulder.”Er, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Okay.”

As the pair began, Y/N couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy looked tired. His normally pristine and glowing skin looked dull and lifeless, decorated with dark eye bags under his slate-grey eyes. She was struck with a sudden desire to ask if he was alright but decided against it. The furrow in his brow as he glanced over the directions reminded her that they were simply partners for the week--and that Slytherins generally got into a hissy fit if people tried to act too buddy-buddy with them too quickly.

“Add the moonstone until it starts to steam,” he said after a few moments, apparently not noticing that she was already emptying the powdered moonstone into the cauldron. “Stir until completely dissolved.”

“Add syrup of hellebore.”

“Stir until the consistency is akin to cream.”

This went on for the rest of the lesson--Malfoy softly instructing her while Y/N consulted her own set of directions, just in case. As she worked, she couldn’t help but notice how unusual his hair was. It was unlike any other white she’d ever seen before--instead, it had some kind of warm hue to it. Y/N knew that no one her age actually had naturally white hair--Malfoy clearly had some iteration of “blond”, whatever that meant--but all the other light haired wizards she had met had slightly grey tinges in their hair...not whatever he had going on. She shrugged it off and kept stirring.

An hour passed by much quicker than anticipated, and to her surprise, Malfoy never said anything even mildly irritating. Y/N stored this tidbit of information away with the interest of asking Tina why she thought he was such a dickwad.

“I think that’s all we have to do today,” Malfoy said once they had added the porcupine quills and set the lid on for the night.

“We really let it sit here until Monday?” she questioned, reviewing the parchment one more time. “That seems a little excessive.”

“Well, it’s not like--” He began waspishly before he took a breath and cast his eyes to the ceiling. “Er, I mean, I know that Slughorn casts a preservation spell on them over the weekend. There’s really no other way to do it without booking an entire day.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

He sent a surprisingly soft smile her way. It appeared that they had finished earlier than the rest of the students and had a couple more minutes until they were dismissed, so the silence around them was tense. Y/N decided to take a risk and ask something she assumed everyone, especially someone as allegedly ostentatious as Malfoy, liked talking about.

“So,” she began casually, twiddling her thumbs under the desk, “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

The few moments of complete and absolute quiet that followed after this question prompted her to send a glance over to Malfoy, who looked...completely stricken?

“Er....” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked her up and down. “Yes?”

Y/N had never had an interaction so awkward as she waited, tense and very weirded out, for him to just go ahead and pose the question back to her so she could break the ice and complain about how she’d searched far and wide for her soulmate and failed--but it never came. Malfoy just stared at her for another few heartbeats before he shut his slightly gaped mouth and turned to pack up his belongings.

Not another word was exchanged between them until Slughorn officially announced that they were all dismissed as long as their brewing stations were spotless.

Malfoy was out the door before she even had a chance to say goodbye.

<^>

“So?” Tina sat at the edge of her seat, waiting for her friend to relay all the details of her potions adventure.

“Super weird,” Y/N answered. “He was nice. Didn’t say anything mean about my house or parents or wealth or anything. I asked him about his soulmate, though, and he totally clammed up.”

Tina’s eyes narrowed as she shifted on her bench and drew closer. “I haven’t heard a whisper of anything about his soulmate. Poor bloke probably doesn’t have one. I’m not surprised...no one deserves to be stuck with him forever.”

“No, that’s not it,” Y/N countered. “First of all, he’s not bad. I told you. Second of all, he told me he had one and looked at me like I was stupid for not knowing. It was weird.”

“I wouldn’t sweat it. He probably thinks he’s so important and sought after that all anyone talks about is him and was just offended that you didn’t know, I guess. This is what I mean. He’s such a prick.”

“Maybe.” Y/N found herself looking over to the Slytherin table, her eyes stopping on the curiously colored hair of a certain 6th year. He seemed especially down, hardly touching the spoon in his stew and choosing to look like the definition of angst instead.

But in a very attractive way she admitted to herself. There was no denying it--Draco Malfoy was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way, like how paintings of imaginary places that you’ll never be able to actually visit for yourself are beautiful.

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, jarring her out of her whimsical train of thought and bringing a blush to her cheeks. For once, she was relieved that no one could see her in color.

<^>

By the time Monday rolled around, Y/N was feeling more and more uneasy about her whole situation. Malfoy ignited some kind of weird feeling deep inside of her--almost like butterflies--as he absentmindedly tapped his lips with his quill, studying the directions sheet in front of them.

“How was your weekend?” Y/N asked, her voice a little pitchier than she would’ve liked. He arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at this, hardly even bothering to glance her direction.

“The usual,” he drawled. “I studied, mostly.”

“Nice. Way to keep us all on our toes.”

The slight smile that stretched across his face and the dimples that followed nearly made her knees weak, her hand shooting out to grasp the edge of the table before they gave in. “Yeah. You know me. The wild card.” His voice seemed bored, but she was just glad that the words coming out of his mouth weren’t entirely insufferable.

Y/N sent him a soft smile, fiddling with the edges of her robes. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tina watching them intently.

“We only have to stir it 12 times counter clockwise and 14 times clockwise and add the unicorn horn powder before we let it simmer until Wednesday,” Y/N mused as she finally tossed the parchment back on the table. “Easy work. We should be done in about a half hour, give or take.”

They made quick work of the directions, the smell of their potion taking an amiable lilac like scent.

“I think that means we didn’t royally fuck it up,” Draco offered as she rolled her sleeves back down and settled into the stool next to him.

Y/N smirked at him, a glimmer in her eyes. “We? Don’t you mean me?”

He laughed stiffly before immediately sobering up and packing up his things. “Sure. I’m going to ask Slughorn if I can leave early. See you.”

With that, he got up and left her alone. At face value, Y/N didn’t expect the situation to mean that much to her, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth and stung more than expected.

Shake out of it, Y/N, she chided herself. What does it matter, anyways?

<^>

A knock on her dorm room shook her out of a particularly thrilling study session for her DADA exam, whose notes she promptly shoved into her satchel at the suggestion of a welcome distraction.

“Come in!” she called.

The door opened to reveal a particularly devious looking Tina. “I come with questions.”

“Please distract me from that tragic exam tomorrow,” she moaned, throwing herself on her bed. “Anything is better than thinking about it.”

Tina’s lip quirked as she settled down next to her friend. “It’s about your dear Potions partner.”

“What about him?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at him today.” Tina propped her chin up into her hand. “You like him.”

“I most certainly do not!” Y/N said hotly. “I mean...I think he’s cute, and his hair reflects the light in this really cool way, but no! I’m not an idiot!”

“Of course you’re not an idiot,” Tina soothed. “He’s objectively a very pretty person. No harm in appreciating that. And now that you’ve spent a little more time with him, and you’re realizing that maybe he isn’t an arsehole, I could totally understand why you’d develop feelings for him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“How am I being ridiculous?”

“He’s already found his soulmate, Tina. I’m not masochistic enough to want to pine after a boy who already has his person.” As the weight of the words sunk in, Y/N could feel her chest tighten for just a moment. Tina just kept watching as she moved to gently wrap a hand around her shoulder.

“So say I do like him, just a little bit,” Y/N continued as her voice grew softer. “Say I actually let myself develop feelings for him even though I know there’s no way he’s my soulmate. Say I actually give in and have to see him every day knowing that he’s in love with someone else. Don’t you think that’s a little too much for me? I want to find my soulmate! I don’t want to mess around with anyone unless it’s with them.”

Her friend was quiet, but she moved her arm to wrap around Y/N’s frame.

“I’d just really like to find my soulmate already,” Y/N finished up. “And I’m afraid that they’re not even out there. So, no. No detours allowed.”

Tina smiled a little at this, sitting up to instead pat her friend on the back. “You’ve always been the more focused one. I respect that. But I am saying that there’s no harm in seeing other people while you wait.”

Y/N shrugged. “Yeah. Fairs. Now, I hate to say this, but I have a list of spells a metre long just waiting to be memorized for the exam tomorrow. I’d love to tell you the rest of all my gushy secrets once that’s taken care of.”

“Of course!” Tina kissed her friend on the cheek and skipped off. “Just don’t go too crazy studying. I still need a best friend to bitch to at breakfast.”

“No promises!”

<^>

“Add a little more powdered moonstone,” Malfoy instructed from her right, “Just until it starts to boil.”

Y/N went to reach for it, catching a glimpse of her partner on the way. There was something just so magnetizing about him, something so delicate and stunning. She couldn’t help but feel a quick twinge of envy for whoever his soulmate was.

The sound of the moonstone slipping into the potion pulled her back into reality, and she quickly stirred to avoid an unwelcome explosion.

“And now the chopped gillyweed.”

Y/N turned to their stockpile of ingredients, only to see whole cloves of gillyweed.

“I have to confess something,” she said, still stirring vigorously. Malfoy snapped to attention so quickly it almost made her jump. “I’m shit with a knife. Can you chop it for me? I have to keep stirring this anyways.”

What looked like disappointment flashed across his face for just a moment before he stood up and reached for a knife. “Sure.”

Y/N nodded and turned back to the concoction, careful to make sure that the moonstone wasn’t clumping together at the surface as she waited for Malfoy to be done with the gillyweed.

“Fuck!”

Y/N turned to see Malfoy’s hand covered in--no way.

His hand was covered in blood, as was the knife that was held tightly by his right hand.

“Fuck, fuck, can you hand me a towel?”

Y/N couldn’t help but stare as the words from her parents floated back into her head (Green is the color of life, blue is peace, red is passion and anger...).

“It’s red.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Your hand. It’s red.” Now that she looked closer, she could see hints of colors that she’d never seen before in him--a soft hue that reminded her of first kisses and the scent of roses in his cheeks and lips, a warm, sunny glow in his hair, and a cool, startling color in his eyes that seemed like the color for getting thrown into a cold lake on a summer afternoon.

He was staring right back at her, his eyes wide and his breathing quick.

“It’s you, isn’t it,” she breathed. “It’s been you all along. If only you hadn’t worn those blasted black suits all the time instead of your robes..”

The corners of his mouth crinkled into a smile.

“Ms. Y/L/N, step out of the way,” Professor Slughorn interrupted, rolling up his sleeves and getting his wand out. “Draco, boy, this looks deep. Get on up to the infirmary now. Don’t dally.”

“Meet me,” he whispered as he made to leave. “Tonight. In front of the library. I guess we have some things to discuss.”

“Yes, yes, I guess we do.” Y/N cheeks were hurting from smiling, and as he left the room, the color fading from her vision, she had never been so content to be in pain in her life.

final a/n: hi everyone :) welcome back! can’t wait to write more! sorry if this was a bit of a trainwreck...i haven’t written in a long time and this is the first thing i’ve done since college apps. all feedback is appreciated! thank you! also apologies for any plotholes or spelling errors! i wrote this in a day and i know it’s a little messy oops

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco #draco malfoy #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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