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only-angel-28 · 8 months

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mastermind, part six

this ones kinda long LMAO SORRY💀💀

anyways two updates in one day, active era fr

this ones the end of sixth year, next parts going to be the start of seventh year

and i thought of y/n's dress for the ball to be like rory's for her chilton dance in gilmore girls but i havent rlly added any description for it in here so feel free to imagine whatever!!

please lmk what you think and feel free to leave some requests on my page!!

warnings: angst, swearing

mastermind, masterlist

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The next few weeks leading up to the ball pass by in a blur and it all starts off with me breaking the news to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“Hey guys,” I say putting my bag down the next day with a brighter smile than usual on my face.

“Hello? What’s got you all giggly?” Harry questions, giving Ron his charms homework to copy frantically before we have to go to the lesson after breakfast.

“Oh, nothing…” I say with a grin, looking over at the Slytherin table only to find Theo already looking at me with a smile, making blood rush up to my cheeks and ears.

Hermione raises her eyebrows at me in question and follows my eyes to the table finding Theo just before he turns away to his friends.

“Y/n?” Hermione says warningly, breaking me into telling them everything.

“Okay fine! Ah, you won’t believe this! You know Theodore?” I squeal.

Harry raises his eyebrows as Ron snaps up from his homework, staring at me, “Who? Nott?”

“Yes,” I reply with my smile getting bigger and bigger as Hermione shakes me by the arm, squealing and giggling. Of course, she’d know, she helped him plan it.

“He asked me to the ball!”

Harry’s frown quickly turns into a huge grin as he looks back at Theo and gives him a thumbs up which Theo returns with an upwards nod and grin.

“And what did you say?” Ron asks, deathly calm.

“I said yes.”

“What?! Why would you do that?” He all but shouts.

“Ron! He’s nice, I want to go with him.”

“How can he be nice he’s a Slytherin.” he sneers.

“Ronald! Why can’t you just be happy for them? At least Nott’s got the courage to ask a girl out.” Hermione says, clearly upset as we both stand up and I stick my tongue out at him, walking out the hall with Hermione as Harry shakes his head disappointedly at Ron.

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A few days after there’s a quidditch match and Theo invites me to come watch him play.

“You should come to the match tomorrow.” He whispers as Slughorn drones on about the origin of Amortentia.

“Which? Slytherin and Hufflepuff?” I whisper back toying with my quill.

“Mhm.”

“Why?” I whisper with a smug smile to which Theo replies with a knowing look.

“You know why.”

“I’d like to hear you say it.”

He sighs before surrendering, “Fine. I’d like it if you were there. Happy now?” “Very,” I say with a smile, gathering my things and standing up as Slughorn dismisses our class.

The match goes well with Slytherin winning and Theo flying down to meet me a few times. He’d hover down and give me a smile or point at me after scoring a quaffle.

“Is that Theo’s?” Hermione asks with a smile, pointing to my scarf.

“What? Oh yeah, it is.” I say with a huge smile seeing the scarf he’d given me that night, engraved in silver with his initials.

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We’d started studying together too. Almost every night, we’d meet up at the library with hot chocolate and a stack of old books, simply sitting together and reading or helping one another with formulas or spells.

“What did you get for number 12?” Theo asks, the smell of his cologne floods my nose as he leans over, his soft hair gently brushing the side of my jaw.

“I got uhm…I got impedimenta” I slightly stuttered, clearly flustered as Theo looked up at me with a smug grin.

“Oh shut up you prick.” I say, shoving him into the large stack of books next to him, making them tip over and him getting a hard stare from the librarian as I silently laugh at him.

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“Hey, have you read this one?” Theo asks, holding a red book up to me with gold lettering on the cover.

The bookshop we’re in is unusually empty compared to the ones I usually go to, this one being Theo’s pick for our trip to Hogsmeade. It seems that there was a part of Hogsmeade that I hadn’t explored yet. Or many other people for that matter.

“Oh yeah, I have, it's so good, the plot twist goes mad.” I say excitedly as Theo raises an eyebrow and puts it in his basket, slowly filling up with books.

The snowstorm outside rages on as I scan the shop from one end to the other for the perfect book to read next (ignoring the reminder in the back of my head that I’ve already got a shelf full of unread books at home).

I pick up a blue book titled, “Edera” and open it up, the story inside intriguing me more than I thought it would. I tear myself away from the book, convincing myself I’d enjoy it more some other time when I’m warmer and decide to check my purse for the change for it instead.

Fuck. I left my wallet in my dorm.

I put the book back where I found it, kicking myself for forgetting my wallet in the rush of getting out early enough and going to where Theo was.

“Hey, ready to go?”

“Yeah almost I just need to pay, you go ahead to the cafe I’ll meet you there.” He says, taking his money out of his coat pocket, approaching the counter.

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When Christmas Day morning came, the entire day leading up to the ball had passed by in a blur. Presents were given, food was eaten and Hermione and I had gotten into a massive snowball fight with Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins. The girls had teamed up against the boys and crushed them in the snow frenzy.

At five o’clock, Hermione, Ginny and I left to go get ready for the event.

The girls got ready in my room, Ginny being in charge of makeup, Hermione in charge of hair and Y/N in charge of the dresses and accessories.

“You know,” I say clasping a diamond necklace on Hermione’s neck, “even though you’re not going with Ron you can still dance with him.”

“That is if he’s not busy with his Lav Lav.” Hermione replies, mocking Ron’s nickname for Lavender Brown.

“Please, once he sees you, he’ll forget all about her,” Ginny speaks up from her place above me, putting a small silver star clip at the side of my hair.

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I hastily leave the common room and walk up the stairs leading to the entrance hall, Hermione and Ginny had left a few minutes before me as I had misplaced my shoes.

I stop at the top of the staircase, looking around for my friends.

Ginny had spotted me first, she was talking with Fred and Harry, both of whom were with their dates. Ginny saw me before I saw her and shouted my name waving to get my attention.

Theo turned around first, his mouth dropped as he saw me(, in his opinion, Y/N had never looked more beautiful).

He walked over to meet me at the end of the stairs and said, “You…wow…You look stunning. I like the star.” he adds on, smiling.

“Thank you Theo, you look amazing.” I smile brightly up at him.

We meet up with everyone else, me giving a consoling smile to Ron who admittedly didn’t look half bad in his robes and Harry who looked amazing in his. We all complement one another and walk in together, arms linked with each of our dates.

Instead of the long house tables that were usually in the hall, there were about a hundred smaller ones set for a dozen people, littered all around the space. We all went around and moved to one of the smaller tables. The dining hall was adorned with a massive Christmas tree, ornamented with white and blue baubles, the walls of the hall were covered in sparkling silver frost and hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy hung under the starry ceiling.

The white plates in front of us were empty, except for a single menu resting on each one.

“What are we supposed to do, starve?” Ron exclaimed as Hermione rolled her eyes at him and said the name of whatever she wanted off the menu and it appeared on her plate.

“Oh, I get it now. Thanks, Mione.” Ron smiles up at her, which she ignores. The rest of us filled in pursuit, eating anything we wished while making jokes with one another.

When all the food had been eaten, Dumbledore stood up from his space on the main table and asked everyone to do the same, he then waved his wand and the tables all zoomed to the walls, leaving the floor clear. He then conjured a raised platform complete with guitars, a lute, a cello and bagpipes.

The Weird Sisters walked up to the stage, exciting a sea of applause, they picked up their instruments to play.

“May I have this dance?” I look to the side of me to see Theo half bent over with one hand at his back and the other extended out for me to take it. I giggle at his crooked smile and take his hand, nodding as he pulls me close to him, swaying gently to the slow song.

“Are you enjoying tonight?” Theo asks softly, looking down at me.

“Mhm, I’m having a wonderful time.” I say grinning up at him as he smiles contentedly and says, “Good.”

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We dance and joke the night away together, completely losing track of time until the ball’s long gone along with everyone else and Theo and I are the only people left in the dimmed hall, laughing at each other's jokes.

“And then he goes, ‘My father will hear about this!’ before she wacks him in the face!” Theo lets out in between laughs, sending me creasing over.

He calms down before I do and looks over at me, fiddling with my shoes in his hands that I’d swapped with his long ago. “I’m so sorry Theo I’m never wearing heels again, I swear.” I had said, to which he replied, “Don’t worry love, I’d swap my shoes with you any day.” leaving me a flustered mess.

“You’re so pretty.” He says simply, smiling at me softly.

I don’t say anything in return but smile and take his hand leading him to the nearest mistletoe, his eyes never leaving me.

“Look up,” I whisper.

He looks up in realisation and down again, eyes darting between my lips and eyes.

He slowly leans in, his cologne swarming around me and butterflies erupting in my tummy as I stand on my tiptoes to meet his lips. His hands wrap around my waist, pulling me close as mine go to the hair in the back of his neck and his bicep, holding each tightly in anticipation.

He lets out a soft groan and I can feel his minty breath on my face but before we can touch we’re broken apart by a shout outside.

“Theodore!” the panicked voice gets closer and closer as we break away and reach for our wands.

Draco appears in the doorway, looking dishevelled with his white shirt slightly unbuttoned and the cuffs rolled up. His usually tidy hair is messy and a look of fear and alarm in his eyes, spreading and overtaking the confusion in Theo’s.

The quiet, calm ambience in the room immediately leaves as Draco stands at the doorway nodding his head silently at Theo.

“No,” Theo whispers softly, his hold on my hand becoming tighter as he leads me behind him in protection.

“Theo, what’s going on?” I ask, my voice coming out quieter than I thought it would.

When I don’t get a reply from him I ask the same question to Draco, my voice slightly louder now, laced with panic as I look between the two boys.

“We have to go Theodore. Now.” Draco says before he runs out of sight, leaving Theo and me alone again.

“Theo, can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?” I ask a final time, almost fearing his answer.

“Y/n you need to listen to me very… very carefully.” He says, his voice breaking mid-sentence and his bottom lip quivering.

“Theo…” I hold his hand and he holds mine back tighter.

“It…I…it wasn’t supposed- to be this way I-” He breaks in his words as he holds onto my hands for dear life, tears gathering up in his eyes, threatening to spill out at any second. He takes a deep breath before slowly pulling the robes that were covering his left arm up.

Black ink, seared into his soft skin showing a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.

The defaced skin around the mark was red hot, clearly irritated and inflicting pain on him.

My stomach dropped, as did my hands from his and his eyebrows furrowed slightly at my flinching away from him. I looked up at him and saw pure pain written all over his face.

“How long Theo?” My voice comes out quiet and broken as tears glass over my eyes.

“Five months.” He whispers.

His reply feels like a punch to the gut, replacing all my feelings of sadness with betrayal.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! You prick! You could’ve told me and I’d fix it, I’d help you fix it Theo, why didn’t you tell me?!” I shout up at him, my fists hitting his strong chest repeatedly as he simply stands there in surrender until my arms and emotions give out and I sob into his chest.

“You can’t.” He says softly, holding me closer as we cry into each other's arms.

He pulls away slightly, still keeping his close hold on me and saying, “Please, please, go to your dorm, lock the door and stay there all night. Please don’t go out for any reason love please just stay there, stay safe, I am begging you.”

“What? Theo, why? No, no I’m- I’m coming with you.”

“No love you can’t. You don’t get it I have to do this, I have to leave.”

“Theo stop, you don’t have to leave, we can go to Dumbledore, we can explain everything, he’ll fix it I know he will.”

“No I…I can’t do this, I'm sorry,” he says with furrowed brows, walking away from me as I walk after him.

“Theo no…please! Theo stop it please, come back.” I say after him, all but begging him to stay.

“This was a mistake,” he says, turning around with a hard look on his face.

“What?” I whisper, feeling like a knife has been pushed through my chest, impaling my heart.

“You heard me.” he nods to himself, hands shaking but keeping the poker face on.

Pain, betrayal, hurt and anger rush through me, chilling me to the bone as my face hardens and tears stop.

“You’re an asshole, Theodore Nott! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” is the last thing I say to Theo before he leaves and with that I’m left alone sobbing on the floor in my gown.

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“Y/n!” Hermione shouts my name as I enter the dorm with puffy eyes.

I look up to find almost everyone from our year sitting around somewhere in the common room, some in gowns and robes and others in pyjamas, nonetheless all holding each other as they cry together.

“Hermione…what’s going on?”

“Dumbledore’s dead,” she answers in a broken whisper, “and Malfoy and Nott are gone.” My stomach drops as my brain goes straight to Draco and Theo. They never deserved this, they’re only kids. We all sit around crying and consoling one another before early morning comes and we go to our dorms.

As I enter my room something on the bed catches my eye, making what’s left of my heart drop to my stomach and tears rush to my eyes once again.

The blue book.

Theo.

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sixth year done!!

lmk what you think please it helps loads<33

taglist:

@harrysnovia @timmytime17 @cherry-hoe @jetblackpayne @ash-tarte @coolestgirlhere @lilianelena39

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twstwinnie · 1 year

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♚ With You ~ Lilia Vanrouge

summary: in a relationship with Lilia! usual three categories: pining, confession, and dating! while this should be a given, I’ll say it explicitly here: the reader is an adult in this given Lilia’s age <3 whether they’re a third year like Leona, or the prefect, is up to you as the reader!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: OK SO. this was a request from the comments (I do read those!) also, i was inspired to write for Lilia because I have a friend who really loves him, and i too love the bat boy! so, consider this a sort of love letter to Lilia as a character! For requests, Sebek is likely next, though feel free to lmk what y’all wanna see in asks/comments! enjoy!! special thanks to my beloved Lilia lovers for giving me inspo xx — winnie ♥︎

♚ starry - eyed !

» Unlike many other students at NRC, Lilia is one of few who’s fully aware of how he feels about you. He’s been alive long enough to recognize the signs— a quickened heartbeat, his eyes lingering on you for a few moments too long, even the way he seeks out your company in his free time.

» While, yes, he’s aware of his feelings, he’s stopped dead in his tracks by fear. It’s such a silly thing to him, really, but he can’t help it. He finds himself afraid that his lifespan might scare you off. Sure, he’s probably not got very long left, but in comparison to your human lifespan— it’s still quite a bit longer. Would you be alright with that? Or would his practical immortality be a dealbreaker?

» He knows that you accept him despite your difference in species, but would that translate if he was romantically interested? He hasn’t a clue, and so he’s bitten his tongue about how he truly feels— hiding behind a mask of teasing and jokes for the time being.

» Yes, teasing. No amount of reservations towards confessing could ever stop Lilia from teasing you. If anything, it only causes his teasing to increase, eventually evolving into something a bit more flirtatious.

» When you’re engrossed in any type of study at the library, he’ll appear in front of you, floating upside down with a wide grin on his face. When you jump back, startled, he merely laughs and comments on how cute you look when you’re focused.

» Sometimes, when you’re walking to class or back to your dorm, he’ll jump out and hug you from behind, near-tackling you to the ground. And though you’re always startled, you always know it’s Lilia hugging you. You’ll just let out a laugh, turn around, and hug him right back. The first time it happened, Lilia couldn’t help his shocked expression, easily melting into your warmth. Now, it’s exactly what he wants and expects when he does this. After all, hearing your laughter and gentle tone as you return his hug is always worth it to him.

» Despite all of this, though, he can’t find it in him to confess— convinced that you two are better off as friends. Who knows what the future holds? Human lives are already so delicate— would it truly be worth it for what’ll feel like a flash of happiness?

» This point comes up when he’s playing online games with Idia. Honestly, he doesn’t quite expect the conversation to take such a turn, but it does.

» “Red, you’ve been a lot less active lately. Kind of an L… but I guess it’s to be expected since you’ve got that partner of yours. Meh. At least you seem happier,” Idia comments. Lilia audibly hums, hands pausing on his keyboard.

» “Ah, you’re mistaken, Shroud. They aren’t my partner— just a friend! Much like you!” Lilia chimes. Idia lets out a quiet, disgruntled sound on the other end.

» “Uh, yeah, pass. We aren’t friends like that. I’m not blind, Lilia. Everyone sees how you look at them. If you were like that with me I’d be weirded out… but uh, why haven’t you told them anyway?” Idia idly questions, and Lilia sighs.

» “Well, us fae have prolonged lifespans. I can imagine that’d be a dealbreaker for most. I’m fine just being their cutest friend!” Lilia hums, but he can practically hear Idia’s eyes roll from the other end.

» “That’s a load of BS. Look, I’m not good at IRL romance, but from what I’ve seen in games, love interests get totally peeved when you try deciding things for them! The, uh… fae-immortality thing. Have you ever even talked to them about it?”

» That made Lilia pause. Well, he supposed he hadn’t really mentioned it to you… but he’d always assumed based on what he’d heard from so many others that you’d believe the same. Before he could respond, Idia continued.

» “And like, OP immortality stuff aside, that last line is a total lie. Are you really fine being stuck all friend-zoned? Can you handle someone else sweeping them away from you? And in the future, what if you aren’t even close? I doubt losing the route is better than, I dunno, trying?” Idia mumbles. Lilia takes a moment to process before letting out a bright laugh.

» “You should speak your mind like this more, Idia,” Lilia mentions.

» “In person? Uh, yeah, no way.”

» The conversation sticks with him, though. Idia is right. Lilia can never possibly know how you feel unless he confesses to you. Even if the future may be uncertain, the thought of losing you— of no longer having you by his side— wasn’t worth it. If confessing meant he’d have a chance to stay with you for the rest of your life, then he’d risk it.

» He’d never met anyone as kind, caring, and understanding as you. Not only did you listen to his many stories from his lifespan, you never doubted any of it for a second. You always give his cooking a try even though you know it’ll be less than edible, but you never judge him. You give him pointers, help him in the kitchen, and dutifully support him in his improvement. Sometimes, you’ll cook for him when he’s a bit too tired to give it another shot.

» You happily joke with him, tease him, compliment him, and spend time with him without a care for what his status used to be. When people warn you of “Diasomnia’s Powerful Vice Housewarden,” you look the other way. You don’t see his titles, his power— you just see him. You adore him not because he could crush you in an instant, but because you’ve become friends with the playful fae that he is.

» In his entire life, he’s met very few people as kind as you. However, you’ve been the one of the only ones to see and embrace all sides of him. Whether he’s fighting for his loved ones, or on stage with the rest of the Light Music club— you accept him.

» In the past, he’s made the mistake of letting go of the ones he loves. Because he thinks it’s better for them— because he feels that he’s dangerous or a dealbreaker. This time, he’s determined to do things differently.

» He wants it to be your choice. You’ve respected him and his choices, so he owes you the same treatment. This time, it’ll be different.

» He’ll confess to you properly and hear your answer. He just hopes it’s the one he also wants to hear.

♚ say the words !

» Lilia hasn’t properly confessed to someone in ages. He isn’t above asking for help should he need it, but it’s more of a matter of who to ask. Surely not his fellow Diasomnia members— they didn’t have as much romantic experience. Idia’s knowledge extends only to virtual games, so eventually, he settles on asking his clubmates.

» When he presents his issue, he’s surprised to find Cater gaping at him, Kalim equally as shocked. Just as Idia had, they assumed that you were already dating him. (Just how many people thought this?)

» After their shock subsided, Cater was more than happy to assist, along with Kalim. Lilia’s courting knowledge was vast, but much of it was outdated. He didn’t want to scare you off, so he wanted to learn some of the more modern methods of courtship.

» Though, both of the suggestions he received fell flat. Cater suggested a very Magicam worthy date, while Kalim suggested a carpet ride of sorts. They both offered to assist with their respective ideas, but Lilia couldn’t accept. None of it felt right. While he was sure both ideas would impress you, it didn’t feel authentic.

» As much as Lilia loved to tease, he wanted this confession to be serious— to be personal. He didn’t want to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Eventually, he asked Silver for help. Surely, he’d have some insight considering how well he knew Lilia.

» “Have you considered just using one of the methods you already know, father?” Silver asks with a tilt of his head.

» “I’m afraid all of my methods are rather outdated for this day and age, Silver,” Lilia muses. Silver responds with a small sigh and shakes his head.

» “So? They know who you are already, right? Even if the method’s a little outdated, it’ll be true to yourself. They’ve gotten to know you, so I doubt they’d expect something modern anyway,” Silver finishes. Lilia’s eyes widened and he smiled. Of course, how could he forget?

» You already knew of his vast experiences across countless years. Perhaps, trying to adapt to a modernity he was unfamiliar with simply wasn’t right. He’d confess to you in a way that felt true to him. He was certain you’d understand.

» Eventually, Lilia settled on something true to his Briar Valley roots. Rather traditional, but it was still romantic to him. He’d enchant a briar rose, wrap it in the twine from a spinning wheel, and seal it in a glass case. Then, when the moon was high in the sky, he’d present it to you. Should you return his feelings, the rose would live on. If not, it would wilt away.

» The story such a tradition originated from resonated with him. Someone beautiful and bright falling for someone considered a monstrous outcast. It was quite touching. He wasted no time in gathering his materials, going as far as to travel back home for a moment to find the most beautiful rose for the confession.

» Once finished, he enchanted the rose, imbuing it with his magic— his wish to be with you for the rest of your eternity. Then, the briar rose was tied with twine and sealed away into the glass case. With a smile on his face, he waited as night fell, then sought you out.

» Luckily, your light was on, though dim through your window. Tapping lightly on the glass, he tested to see if you were awake. The sudden noise startled you, but you knew only one person who could possibly visit you this late at night. And enter through your window, no less!

» “Lilia? It’s late, why are you here?” you question in a hush tone, moving to the side to allow him entry into your room. He slips in, grinning as he presents you the rose.

» “As is Briar Valley tradition, I can only present this to you at night. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Lilia says, watching your expression carefully. Your eyes widen as you take the encased rose, observing it closely.

» “It’s beautiful. What’s the occasion? Did something happen?” you ask with a light laugh as you scan the flower. Before he can answer, your eyes widen as you seemingly put the pieces together.

» “Wait… you’ve mentioned this. This is a Briar Rose, right? The string wrapped around it… the glass… Briar Valley tradition— ah! Are you…?” your voice trails off as your face flushes. Lilia merely grins, eyes glinting with mischief.

» “Am I what, dearest?” he questions with a teasing tone. You shake your head and laugh, covering your face a bit.

» “Is this… a confession?” you whisper. Lilia’s eyes soften and he approaches you, placing his hands over yours as he peered into the glass at the rose.

» “How observant. You really do listen to me! This is a confession. I’m terribly in love with you. You’ve invaded my every thought before I could think to stop you! So I’ve decided to tell you. I know my nature can be a bit… alarming, but I wanted to tell you anyway. Silly, isn’t it?” Lilia says softly.

» “It isn’t silly, Lilia. And of course it’s mutual. For as omnipotent as you tend to be at times, you’re a little clueless, aren’t you?” you respond with a warm laugh. Lilia looks at you and tilts his head.

» “What do you mean?” he asks.

» “I’ve liked you for a long time now. Have you ever noticed my advances? I don’t treat you like I treat my other friends, y’know! Plus, the whole immortality thing doesn’t scare me… no part of you ever could,” you say. Lilia processes for a moment before beaming with a sharp grin.

» “Oh really? You’ll be stuck with me for quite some time? Are you truly ready to have such a cute, wonderful partner for the rest of your life?” he teases. You merely smile, placing the rose to the side. Pulling him into a tight hug, you gently nod.

» “I’ve been ready for quite some time now. I’m more than happy to call you mine.”

» Lilia melts into your embrace and lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. All of his memories of you come flooding into his mind. He’d been too afraid of judgment to notice at the time, but now he could see it— the way you reserved your brightest smiles for him. The way you’d gently lean into his side when sitting together— even the way you’d watch after Silver on his behalf.

» You’d loved him for quite some time, and now he could finally say that you were his. He’d have you by his side— and he could look towards the future with no regrets, knowing you’d be there.

♚ at last, with you !

» After you two officially start dating, Lilia acts more or less the same, however, in addition to his usual teasing, he becomes a lot more comfortable being openly affectionate with you.

» Are you walking beside him? His hand is intertwined with yours, then. Just sat down with your friends for lunch? Expect him to hug you from behind and kiss your temple as a greeting. Are you having a study session? Well Lilia’s there, leaned against your side and resting against you as you work. Lilia loves affection, so he gives you plenty of it.

» While he usually initiates any affection, if you ever initiate it first, it makes him incredibly happy. If you reach for his hand first, or greet him with a kiss, he always gets a wide grin and teases you about it. He’ll joke that you actually do love him, and that you must be head over heels for him to initiate such sweet affection. Once he manages to get your face to flush under his relentless teasing, he’ll let up and ask you to do whatever affection you initiated again.

» With how touchy he is, it’s only natural that people find out that you two are actually dating now. Because of your increased presence in Diasomnia, Silver, Malleus, and Sebek are quick to find out.

» Silver and Malleus are entirely supportive. Silver can visibly see how happy you make his father. Lilia spends less time alone nowadays, so Silver doesn’t have to worry about him as much anymore. He knows you’re a great match for Lilia given how much you care for him. Plus, your cooking is easily much better than his dad’s, but hey! Your presence has also made Lilia’s food more tolerable, so Silver’s content.

» Malleus is glad that Lilia’s found someone who respects him, but also accepts his more peculiar aspects. It’s something Malleus often struggled with himself, typically only having Lilia to turn to. In you, Lilia has found a partner, but Malleus has also found a cherished friend. You respect him, invite him out, and listen to him just as you do with Lilia. With such a kind soul, it’s only natural Lilia was drawn to you. So long as you two take care of one another, Malleus is certain that it’s a bond that’ll last a long time.

» Sebek is a different story. He’s at war with his internalized hatred against humans. He wants to respect Lilia’s choice, but he struggles to understand why at first. So, at the beginning he’s weary— closely watching your every move. Instead of finding flaws, he comes to realize why Lilia chose you. You don’t use him for his power, you engage with him and his hobbies, and you even watch after Malleus and Silver. With time, Sebek warms up to you. Of course he does! Perhaps, not all humans are bad. You’ve certainly proved that to him.

» His dormmates’— well, family’s approval is all that Lilia needs to know he’s made the best decision possible for himself. You fit right into his small family, as if you were always meant to be there. You fit right into his life, actually.

» You’re always in the crowd during his Light Music club performances. During the Magift tournaments, you’re in the crowd, cheering his name. Even when he finds himself busy with schoolwork, you’re there— sitting across from him as you work on your own assignments. He’s become so used to your presence in his daily life, but he does love dates with you, as well.

» Designated time to spend with one another. Naturally, he very much enjoys spending time alone with you. More often than not, you two have date nights in. Playing games, watching movies, staying up— it’s all a bit juvenile, but Lilia’s proud of his childish side. Plus, as long as you’re having fun, then it’s worth it.

» He loves those nights so much. Laying side by side after the movies are over, curled up together and having hushed conversation. It’s his favorite. You’ll share your dreams— your aspirations in the dark of the night. Lilia shares his experiences, the things he’s seen that he can’t wait to show you. It helps him visualize the vast future you both have ahead of you— the experiences he has yet to have. It makes him excited, but as much as he wants to see it, he’s content with time passing slowly by your side. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

» However, for as much as you two play around, for as much as you both cause chaos together— it isn’t all bright and sunny. Lilia is prone to painful nightmares— memories of his past dredging up and meshing with his recent memories. He’ll dream of losing Silver, Sebek, Malleus— even you— to a war much like the one he’d experienced. During those nights, he’s lucky if he gets even a single hour of sleep.

» You always seem to notice, though. In the morning, you’ll see his tired expression. No matter how much he tries to cover it with a grin, you see right through him. You never judge him or pity him, though. You merely guide him back to his room— school forgotten in favor of a day of healing. You’ll lay him down, remaining by his side as you run your fingers through his hair.

» “I’m here, and you aren’t gonna lose me. We’ve still got a lifetime ahead of us. You can rest. I’ll be here by your side when you wake up.”

» Your soothing words always put a smile on his face. He’ll hold you a little tighter as he drifts back to sleep, knowing that you’ll be there to comfort him should his nightmares wake him up again. On the days that his terrors do startle him awake again, you’re right there— gently rubbing circles into his back as he tells you what he saw. No matter how horrifying the nightmare, your smile remains as you comfort him— assure him that it won’t happen. Lilia will not lose you.

» You’ll always lighten the mood after, teasing him and insisting that he cannot be rid of you that easily. It always puts a smile on Lilia’s face, causing him to quirk a brow and question as to whatever could’ve possessed you to think that’d he’d want you gone?

» After some shared laughter as well as a few playful fights, Lilia manages to relax, night terrors long forgotten in favor of your warmth and comfort.

» Your comfort is so important to him. Of course, he loves being reassured that you won’t go anywhere, but it goes deeper than that.

» At NRC, Lilia is regarded as a terrifying fae with extensive abilities. Though he frequently jokes about his age, there are very few who actually believe him. Most think he’s merely joking— thus his struggles often go unnoticed. After all, someone that powerful couldn’t possibly be affected by loss after experiencing so much of it, or, he must be lying! He looks far too young to have been in any sort of war!

» As much as he tends to laugh it off, it gets to him. He’s forced to hold back— unable to express that emotional side of him. All people see is the conniving, teasing third year. If he ever expressed his painful experiences from his past, he’d likely be called a liar. In truth, he isn’t. And loss doesn’t hurt any less just because he’s strong. The sting of loss hurts just as much the first time as it does countless times after.

» And you understand that. You believe him. With a gentle smile and soft affection, you show him that while his experiences have made him stronger, it doesn’t mean he has to be immune to pain or fear. You show him that he doesn’t need to always hide away behind a facade of playfulness around you. You’re always there to listen, should he need the space to talk.

» For that, Lilia is grateful. You’re willing to share his best and worst moments, and you do so without pitying him or doubting him. You love him dearly. Teasing, serious, even a little scary— all are sides of him that you adore.

» For Lilia, that’s important. Because he knows he has a limited amount of time left, and that your time is limited, as well. For you to be so willing to dedicate that time to him— it’s quite beautiful.

» And with whatever time Lilia has left, he plans to do just the same.

» For you are the very embodiment of the future he hopes to live. And so long as that briar rose he confessed with remains bloomed, he knows that you feel the exact same.

— fin.

#twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst headcanons #winnie-writes #winnie-wishes

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mastermindmiko · 8 months

Text

NEWTs

pairing: Remus Lupin + reader

word count: 1004

summary: With NEWTs approaching, you and Remus have taken to spending time in the library to study, more often than not really.

warnings: none, just cute fluff

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

I wrote this at one go, very late at night, so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them and lmk

"Are you actually studying? or are you just ogling at me?" Remus asks, he looks up from his papers to look up at me, and I turn flushed. I have not been studying, but how can I when I just have this gorgeous boy in front of me.

"You should study, NEWTs are in a few short weeks." Remus says, and he dips his quill back into the pot of ink to jot something down on a piece of paper. I shrug my shoulders, and stretch my arms until I'm laying on the table. I tilt my head to look at him from the surface of the table, and say, "It's really your fault. No one should be allowed to look this gorgeous. It's distracting."

It's now his turn to blush. No matter how many times I reassure him that he's the best thing I could ever hope for and how pretty he is, he never seems to believe it. He waves my compliment off with a wave and it makes me smile even harder. I sigh and continue to watch him work.

"At least do some practice papers."

"I'd rather practice looking at you."

"Despite how wonderful that is..." He begins with a chuckle, "You're not going to be graded it."

I huff and begrudgingly sit up straight. I look at my papers with a pout and I hear him chuckle a bit at my expression. Remus has the exam schedule beside us on the table so he knows what to study first. He's had a schedule organized for about two weeks now. I just study with him, but almost all of the sessions are as productive as this one.

I flip open one of the papers where there are many potions questions from chapter ten to fifteen. I don't need to ace my NEWTs really, I'm going to be Hagrid's trainee here at Hogwarts. He's basically guaranteed me a spot, but just in case, I'd rather not fail.

A few questions in, he slips his hand into mine and rests them both on his thigh. I smile, before raising our hands to press a small kiss to the back of his. I lower them back on his thigh, trying not to act like I see the way he turns pink. He clears his throat and we hear someone gag.

"You two are disgusting."

"Don't worry James, I'm sure Lily will give in soon." I reply after James says his words. Sirius is next to him and they take their seats on the table. Madame Pince glares at them and keeps a watchful eye on them. She is most likely the person anticipating their leave the most. Remus asks them, "Are you here to study?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Sirius grumbles as he brings out a book that looks tattered like it's never been taken care of before but as he opens the pages, I notice that this is the first time he's ever opened them. I say, "Being a Auror is hard work Sirius."

"I know, I just wish Prongs here would study with me instead of with his precious lily-flower, he's even worse than the both of you." Sirius mumbles, and I smile, not minding the semi-insult. I say, "Don't be too harsh on him, he's waited a long time for this."

"A very long time." James adds, nodding his head eagerly. Sirius shrugs his shoulders, mumbling something under his breath. He turns to James saying, "You can go with her, I know you want to."

James presses a dramatic kiss to his best friend's cheek that has Sirius groaning and wiping it away. James grabs his things and moves to the other side of the library, but not before shooting Sirius a kiss and saying, "You were always my first love, Padfoot!"

Madame Pince shushes him, and he turns rigid for a second before running towards Lily who beams when she sees him. It's only a matter of time before she realizes how much she likes him. Sirius looks at Remus and huffs, "I guess I'm your study partner, just don't do any stupid couple-y shit, like giving each other a kiss each time you get a question right."

"That's actually not a bad idea." I teases and lean from my chair to press an overexaggerated kiss on Remus' lips. He turns red once he hears Sirius groan loudly. He lifts a hand to cup my face and then he parts away. Remus has never been one for PDA. I giggle as I watch Sirius give us a glare and sink into his chair.

"Let's just get this over with." Sirius says, and he starts flipping through pages, immediately overwhelmed by the amount of material. I return back to my work and so does Remus. The library is more crowded than ever with exams coming up, but still it's quiet, as if madame Pince would ever let anyone disturb her atmosphere.

Remus wraps his long leg around mine and pulls me closer to him, dragging the chair across the marble floor, creating a small screeching sound. Sirius mumbles again. Remus presses a kiss to the side of my head. He whispers, "I'm so proud of you."

"Turns out I wasn't in as bad shape as I thought I was." I say with a smile looking at the ninety two percent that I scored on the potions quiz. Remus teases, "You never are."

He grabs my chin in between his fingers and he tilts my head towards him. He gives me a big sparkling smile, and I return it, feeling those butterflies go haywire inside me. He presses a soft kiss to my lips. I return it in an instant.

He keeps on kissing me until he decides to insert his tongue into my mouth. I kiss him back, pulling myself closer to him. He squeezes my waist and I let out a small whimper. Sirius looks up from his papers and groans loudly, "For Merlin's sack stop snogging and get to working!"

an: sooo, it wasn't a Regulus one, it was a Remus one. Regulus is coming I promise you that.

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starflungwaddledee · 6 months

Text

clearing my inbox of a variety of asks with text replies, or ones that will get art answers later but that i still figured i could get back to now with simpler responses in the interim.

lots of anons, but i'll ping anyone who i can!

topics include: general nice words + people's theories (thank you!!), dededesign, daroach (sorry), sentient ancient artifacts, magolor (sorry...), whispy woods (SORRY...). there's also a decent scattering of awtdy and clockwork heart tidbits but they're all over the place, and a small collection of increasingly desperate asks hoping bandee will be released from morpho dee 😂

oohh this one is actually super old, sorry that i never got back to it! i get a little overwhelmed by the Nice Words ones sometimes and i'm not sure what to say besides 'thank you!!' because it means a lot to me and 'thank you!' just sometimes feels like it doesn't cut it...?

anyway, i'm very grateful!! i'm thrilled if i could inspire you to try out any constructed-language work of your own!! i'd love to see more of that going on in the kirbyverse so if you ever give it a crack feel free to lmk!

i'm glad you like the full penguin dededesign; quite a few folks seemed to enjoy that actually and i was pleasantly surprised! i haven't drawn that much of most characters besides bandee, to be fair, but the next comic will be about dedede and should answer some of the other questions i've been getting about him too!

i should say that it's likely the totally full penguin design won't make it for the comic, because it's hard to draw the sheer length of their bills from many angles or having the expressiveness i need for dedede, and i really only did that one for funsies. but i'll hopefully find a nice compromise!

aaaa the joy of being mentally unwell about The Characters and The Story. thank you, glad i can be of service! 👍

this is quite perceptive of you to notice and it's definitely something that occurs in the timeline. due to galacta knight's influence (and kirby's altered reputation) visitors and threats- both international and intergalactic- start to think twice before risking an approach.

alas, because daroach appears in the timeline before galacta knight's switch-in occurs, he would already be in contact and friendship with kirby. that unfortunately means he'd meet the same fate as the rest of kirby's existing allies.

@i-only-created-this-to-read a little similar to the above ask, yes, the intergalactic picture of popstar is definitely changed by the presence of a violent, otherworldly warrior and a ruthless hero. i also answered your questions about necrodeus previously and am not sure what else to say about him.

i have confirmed before that dedede is not dead, and more about his scenario and overall role in the plot will be revealed in comics. but i will say that he's a smart guy, despite his silliness, and a loving king. he absolutely came to the same conclusion about the frequency of his own possessions as well, through no small amount of heartbreak.

i definitely headcanon the Lor as sentient; in the light novels, bandee also speaks to her fairly directly. i actually headcanon all the Ancient artifacts as having an amount of sentience (this seem in line with what we've seen in canon, so i don't think it's a reach) and the lor herself seems especially benevolent to me.

our headcanons for the novas are different to yours, though that plays more of a role in the clockwork heart au. i quite enjoy your theories about how the ending might go and you've definitely picked up some details!! i won't confirm or deny anything, but i will say the lor is present in the AU, and that magolor has enough knowledge of artifacts to know that a wish on a wishing star could be a viable solution.

it took a while for folks to start asking me about magolor actually, which i found kind of amusing because he's the deuteragonist (second protagonist, after bandee) of the au!

i do definitely think that canonically magolor lives on the lor starcutter; though he does say he wants to buy a holiday home on popstar! however in awtdy, unlike the dream land four three, magolor's entire timeline is trashed from the get-go by galacta knight's arrival

some of these answers will take me longer to get to as i'll provide them in comics (it should be a fun reveal at least), but i will say: he hates popstar. he hates it there. he'd give just about anything to be anywhere else.

until he meets bandee, of course.

the rest of popstar fare a little better or a little worse at various points in the au, kind of like in the mainline canon timeline. for the most part, galacta knight isn't that interested in most of popstar. he enjoys living there, it's peaceful and undeniably pleasant, and frankly he'd like to continue doing so!

he can be convinced (by kirby, and the maintenance of the lie) to perform care to some of its citizens when necessary- such as rebuilding after a crisis. but in general he minds his business in dream land, and occasionally off-world or interdimensionally with kirby and bandee on missions.

whispy, who also keeps to his own in the woods and is just a cantankerous old tree, is probably fine. at least up until star allies, when he, you know. gets possessed.

@pumpkinnkidd oh absolutely.

@torrentialchaos2 that would be a different story to chrysalis au, i think! one i could write, but haven't. chrysalis au is specifically about bandee, you can't really extract him from it? 😭 but if morpho possessed magolor it would depend on a lot of things: like what is everyone's relationship to him when it happens? i think even when he comes back from his redemption arc, magolor and the gang are friends, but it's not the same as bandee, who is a core member of their unit.

we've already seen what happens when magolor gets possessed and kirby has to Beat His Ass to get him back to normal. and we've seen that when morpho possesses others who are capable fighters, kirby doesn't hold back. so maybe that? magolor is a magical little guy; he's got a better chance of getting spat back out unscathed.

i could however probably write a version of this for magicapple if i wanted, which would be much more emotionally pulverising lmao

@trainerbob23 thank you!! this one took me a bit to respond to sorry, but i'm grateful for the warm welcome! the AUs are definitely my primary investment and i'm glad that folks are enjoying seeing them develop! some of them are connected to each other (awtdy + it's various endings/alts) but others are separate.

i also do have some backstory/lore for starstruck dee, which i'll hopefully get to soon as well. i would say that she is... very much related to stars and the cosmos, yes.

@eliastheownerof0axolotls this one was part of a longer ask (that i've answered part of, and still have another part of in my queue... sorry;; ) but i think this part- especially in terms of kirby- has probably been mostly answered by now! both kirby and dedede have significant roles!

i view dedede as having a mentor-like dynamic with bandee as well as with kirby, and they all care about each other very much! but (especially because they are all adults in my hc) he also absolutely trusts them to handle themselves.

referring to this post and the (cw angst) art at the end. i will hopefully answer some other asks about the clockwork heart au which will satisfy more of its overall premise and timeline and all, but in regards to the peculiar image...

why that picture is completely normal!! bandee is super fine and normal in it and everything is great and good and fine and fine and fine and fine!!! hhahaha!!!

(something very bad is happening, lmao. entirely doomed by the narrative.)

speaking of bandee being doomed by the narrative:

some tags here as well, but i just love the frequency of these...

bandee gets possessed one time and everybody loses it... quick!! when will he get unpossessed!!! save that little guy!!! he's sad so we're sad!! (relatable. everyone is so valid.)

the tags on the main posts about morpho dee are just full of people screaming and crying and being like "NOOO I HATE THIS SM I'M IN PAIN /pos" and it's so good hahahaha

sorry to the folks who hate to see him going through the blender, he's being spun in the microwave at like 90mph on my blog. but don't worry, chrysalis au does have a predictably good ending; though obviously bandee has some capital S Stuff to unpack afterwards!!

🌟⭐✨

aaand i think that's all for now! hopefully if you've been hanging out for an ask for a while you're answer is here, and if not (and possibly even if it is), it's most likely taking me so long because i want to do an answer with art.

i'll try not to let these build up again like this, thank you for your patience!

#won't tag all the characters mentioned but i'll tag the AUs just due to the presence of some asks being about them #or plots or storylines or clarifications. nothing too spoilery... maybe. mostly.#awtdy au #clockwork heart au #chrysalis au #asks

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watermelinoe · 2 years

Note

question is: which manhwa have you read?

ooh ok ok i had several of u gyns ask me this!! i only just started getting into manhwa recently bc i ran out of isekai manga jskfgjjkfg so you have to understand that i. love isekai tropes. i love them so much. i love a female protagonist who is just so, so stupid and completely oblivious to the lead's or anyone else's romantic feelings bc she is Busy and has One Brain Cell. if you like bakarina from hamefura/my next life as a villainess, that's my genre ok. i do not typically like stories where the female lead falls in love first bc men don't deserve love unprompted, let's be real. men should exist to dote on women bc that's what i would do to atone for being male

so i'm gonna do my best w the titles bc i am completely new to korean and i'm gonna try to give the english titles that the scan teams use so they're easier to find. the main sites i've been using are ladymanga and manhwatop

my very favorite manhwa i've read is actually not an isekai but it's f/f historical fantasy and it's so good, it's called her tale of shim chong/her shim cheong. it's about a beggar girl who befriends a newly-wed bride of a powerful man, and their struggle to stay together and survive. it's really poignant and makes incredible insights on misogyny, but it's satisfying!

then there's doctor elise: the royal lady with the lamp/queen with a scalpel about a skilled surgeon with memories of a past life who ends up reincarnating back into that past life and deciding to become a doctor instead of marrying the prince. but this time around, he's the one in love w her bc she's so cool and smart hehe, but she is v busy being amazing at her job

the rest of these are still releasing so i have to wait :'( but i'm really into them so far. first one is a wicked tale of cinderella's stepmom/i raised cinderella preciously, where the protagonist wakes up as the evil stepmother from cinderella. so she decides she'll just get good marriages for all three of her girls and then live in a cottage somewhere, except cinderella meeting w the prince didn't go as planned and this baron dude and his "apprentice" are always hanging around them. i love this one bc she's kind of a sexy mama bear and the daughters are all surprisingly fleshed out and don't actually want to just follow the plot of cinderella lol

also i like i'm a stepmother but my daughter is just too cute which is similar to the previous one where the protagonist is now the wicked stepmother from snow white. but she was originally a children's clothing designer and snow white is adorable, so instead she dotes all over her. and it turns out the king has a reason for being cold to both of them. (trigger warning on this one for past implied sexual assault and pedophilia that is taken seriously - the abuser is deceased before the start of the story)

and finally i'm waiting on the villainess flips the script/it's time to change the genre, where a woman is reincarnated into her favorite revenge novel as the main character's abusive aunt. she plans to hand him off to his real uncle so he can get along with his story, but instead he gets so attached to her that she ends up joining him and pretending to be his mom so she can keep him and his uncle safe from the events of the novel. except things are playing out differently than the story she knows.

those have been all my favs so far!! based on this if any of you gyns think there's one i might like feel free to lmk so i can add it to my anilist lol

#weeb hours #long post #this was so fun thank u for asking me!!#i feel pretty isolated in my weebery tbh bc most everyone seems to be into shounen #and like i've said i just can't care abt stories where girls/women are not essential to the plot #so yeah that means i end up reading a lot of het romance ig but the men are so unrealistic and good that they're basically women #i'm reading like wow he is literally me. i could be a girl boyfriend #i have basically zero interest in stories where it's the girl pursuing the guy. 0/10. unrealistic. unrelatable. unnatural.#anyway my fucking double-jointed thumb fucking hurts from all this fucking scrolling!!! My Life Is Not Fair!!!!!#born to read manga on my phone. forced to wear compression gloves bc thumb hurty

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didisteponurmoment · 2 years

Text

“I Like you too, by the way” WandaNat

Warnings: smut +18

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When the power is out, Natasha and Wanda talk about feelings

Words: 2212

A/N: I need to write to avoid my reality so feel free to send some requests in. I didn't double-check this and English is not my first language so lmk if there some awful mistake

It seems like this rain isn’t ever gonna stop and Wanda and Natasha are stuck at the avengers compound. Wanda, being the new one in the group is still getting used to living with the rest of the team, but she has gotten really close to Natasha, the girl Wanda had been having a crush on since she first arrived six months ago. Everyone is on a mission and even tough Nat knows enough to relaunch the power, she is enjoying the company of the witch a little too much to try and fix the lights.

The whole vibe just got so romantic. Candles are placed around the room because the lights are out due to the storm (duh), nice old music playing from Wanda’s battery radio and two glasses of red wine are settled on the table. isn’t it perfect? Wanda’s heart pounds and she gets the whole world’s excitement in her stomach. Her powers let her sense the calm in the older woman, making her wonder if this was a good time to make a move on her.

“Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate? bring you a blanket? it’s kinda cold,” Wanda says as Natasha smiles and nods unknowingly. Wanda is a nervous mess, she goes to the kitchen to make drinks and also to calm herself down. “it’s alright, it’s fine. she’s just a girl, chill,” Wanda whispers to herself but it doesn’t work at all, so the only thing left to do is to go back to Natasha, who is already missing the young girl's company.

“Oh there’s only one blanket for the two of us,” Nat says moving around the room, “I know there were more of them but I can't find them.”

“It’s fine, you can have it.”

“No, we definitely should share it! I mean I don’t want you to freeze,” The spy smirks and makes Wanda wonder why she has such an influence on her. “Come here, Detka,” The Russian says almost seductively and Wanda shyly gets closer to her. They both keep talking comfortably, about missions, gossip about their teammates, and just life in the most comfortable way. Suddenly, Wanda feels Natasha’s hand slowly making its way around her shoulders.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” it sort of slips out of Wanda’s mouth and she hopes it was quiet enough so that Nat didn't hear it. The older woman smirks and answers without hesitation

“yea me too. you’re a great cuddler, by the way,” Wanda’s cheeks grow red, but she senses some sort of weird intoxicating feeling coming from the older girl: it’s now or never, so she places her hand on Natasha’s lap, not inappropriately but definitely with a hint in the move.

“is it okay?” Wanda asks

“yeah” Natasha says with a soft look in her eyes, “which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Wanda attempts to move so she can see the olders girl face better but instead of it she only spills her drink on her sweater.

“Oh, Detka, you better take it off,” Natasha says so wanda did as she was told.

“So what was the thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“it’s kinda hard to talk to you when you’re shirtless. you know, you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

Wanda blushes as she mumbles something like “no way.”

“I was actually meaning to tell you that I really like you.”

This surprised Wanda, even with her powers that could have placed her a step ahead from everyone, she didnt consider the idea of her feelings being reciprocated. She doesn’t even think about the next thing she does, pulling Nat closer by her jacket and pressing her lips on hers. a second later Natasha is kissing her back.

“Is that a yes?” she giggles.

“what was the question again?” Wanda smirks but she doesn’t get any response because Nat’s hand is aleready making her way up from Wanda’s waist to her boobs from under her sweater. Her lips are on the sokovian’s neck, beating softly. Rather unexpectedly, Wanda feels a really gentle touch around her right nipple on top of her delicate lacy bra.

“Is that okay, Detka?” Natasha asks again and Wanda doesn’t feel like joking anymore.

“Yes,” she gets to say under her breath as the older girl leaves a small kiss on wanda’s rosy cheeks, her eyes closed and her mouth is a little open craving another kiss.

Wanda spent a lot of time wondering how Natasha would feel under her touch, but she never thought she’d be so soft and patient when it comes to physical contact. It suddenly gets hotter as Natasha undoes the witch’s bra and Wanda pulls her top off of her, She stares at her and at the skin just exposed and bites her lip, lost in her toughts for a minute.

“Like what you see, malyshka?” The spy asks, a large smirk covers her face and Wanda sheepishly nods, feeling her cheeks turn red and her body freezing for a second until Natasha’s soft laugh brings her back in. Eyes wonder on her body and hands finally move, reaching her waist and brushing her fingers against it.

A small chuckle escaped Nat’s lips as Wanda uses her power to disappear the top across the room and uses her hands to caress the older girl’s back as she leans on Wanda again.

"Weren’t you shy just a minute ago?” Nat says smirking and attaching her lips to Wanda’s neck. Nat lips are back in the witch’s mouth before she can think of an answer and she sucks on her lip harshly, getting a shaky breath out of The other girl’s mouth, who moves her hands to the spy’s back and doubts, stopping herself.

“Uh Tasha, is this okay?” Wanda asks looking for her eyes shyly.

Natasha stares and laughs lightly, leaning putting her lips right above mines “oh Detka, are we gonna keep asking that all night?” Her lips brush on Wandas lips as she talks, and she licks the lips reassuringly. Wanda closes her eyes and a little breath escapes lips, she feels a smirk on the other girl as Natasha leads Wanda’s hands to her back again and she unclasps her bra with them.

Wanda feels her mouth fall open as Natasha’s boobs bounce against her frame and lets out a little groan. The spy lips attack her neck, without asking this time, and she starts sucking on the spot under wanda’s ear making a real and loud moan escape her lips. She moves away and stares.

”I’ve been dreaming of hearing that for a long time, Detka” she says biting her lip.

Wanda’s breath stops for a second before a sudden shot of braveness enters to her body.

”Have you, Tasha?” she began asking as the confidence that hit her leads her hands to grip her waist tightly ”what else have you been dreaming about hm?”

She smiles knowingly, She was totally waiting for that question since ever and as the spy she is, wanda wouldnt be surprised if she indeed saw it coming.

“Let me show you instead,” she says pinning Wanda’s hands above her head and moving her kisses from her mouth to her neck, where she sucks, leaving a mark probably. Wanda is about to say something, trying to come up with a bold response, when her teeth nibble on the sweet spot right beneath her ear and she can’t help herself but moan out loud.

“Well, they sound better than I thought they would”

“I feel underestimated, Natty” Wanda answers rising her eyebrow.

“Then you can prove me wrong when I’m done with you” she replies after biting the witch's lip.

Wanda’s chest is going up and down when Natasha’s lustful eyes land on her boobs.

Wanda feels how she could probably cum just by seeing the older girl looking at her that way. She smirks again as she leans forward to kiss the top of the left breast, taking her time to admire it before moving to the other one. Her mouth made its way to Wanda’s nipples. Wanda freezes as she watches the scene and Natasha takes her hard nipple into her mouth, gently kneading the soft flesh with her hand.

The moans start spilling the younger girl's mouth and she bites her lip to prevent them from leaving her body. The spy lips meet Wanda’s suddenly, her tongue opening her mouth and those little moans escaping right into her mouth. Natasha's body shivers when Wanda breathes into her for the first time and she bites her lip harshly, suddenly turning her kiss more aggressive with that simple act.

Wanda’s fingers tangle in the spy’s hair, pulling it a bit when her hands caress her stomach. She moves her hands up to pamper Wanda’s nipples, her moans growing louder as she unconsciously shifts her body so she can grind down on her thighs.

“Shit,” Nat says in a moan when she realizes Wanda’s intentions “you sure?” She asks looking for approval in her eyes.

Wanda just nods blushing and Nat whimpers pulling away from her chest, untying the other girls shorts and quickly working to get them down as she giggles.

“Take off your pants, Tasha” Wanda whispers, as she covers her body with the blanket and waits for her to get rid of her skinny jeans. She smiles sliding the ripped material off her, and her panties quickly following. Wanda giggles lightly as Nat leans down, moving her body underneath the blanket and leaving a kiss on the stomach right above Wanda’s panties.

“You ready Detka?” She whispers when her fingers tucked into the hem of the Lacey underway making the girl shiver at the contact.

“Go for it” Wanda breathes out as her underwear is being sledded down her thighs and kisses are pressed down each leg as skin gets exposed.

She moans, don’t even trying to hold anything back and using the blanket to cover her upper body and leaving Nat’s head under it.

Nat hands are really cold when she first touches Wanda and so she shivers, Her finger Grazes all the way from the belly button to Wanda’s clit, adding pressure when she reaches it.

Wanda shudders and Nat laughs from under the blanket and moves the blanket to free her head and the younger girl's legs. Wanda just looks at her body in awe during the whole process, from when she’s kneeling down in front of her under the blankets to when she moves out if it. The cold wind hits on the place Natasha just left and wanda squirms. Natasha laughs again, staring at the other girls body in silence and realizing how she is feeling when she moves.

“We have time, malyshka, They won’t be back until tomorrow” she says looking at her eyes and brushing her fingers against her boobs from under the blanket.

Natasha removes the blanket fully and Without saying another word she straddles Wanda’s waist facing her legs. She gets the blanket again covering both of them as She lows herself and starts playing the sokovian’s clit, testing the reactions she is getting to guide her out.

Wanda can feel Natasha's wetness on her stomach and moves her hands to her ass, squeezing on it doubtfully and receiving a moan in return, which makes Nat blow air on Wanda’s core, earning a groan from her.

Natasha stops her fingers and Wanda panics, wondering if she has done something wrong or if the older girl was regretting the encounter until she feels wet fingers on her hand.

She holds Wanda’s hand and leads it slowly into her pussy. Once again Wanda moans when she feels the wetness and Nat laughs. Then the witch finally dares to move her fingers shyly, and now Nat is the one moaning.

Natasha lets go of wanda’s hand and moves back to her own business, she separates the witch’s pussy lips and licks. Once, twice,the sokovian’s breath gets faster. Wanda doubts for a minute and she gets Narasha’s butt closer to her face until she gets the idea, too busy moaning to actually explain her plans.

Nat tights straddle wanda’s face carefully. She goes down again. She knows Wanda is close and decides to add her fingers to the mix.

Wanda looks up to find her pussy, glistening and dripping, she holds her ass and Nat laughs lightly the witch’s center before receiving her mouth for the first time. All her control disappears and she starts moving against the tongue, riding Wanda’s face and making her reach an orgasm on the way.

As Wanda cums, she can feel Natasha’s tongue eating her dry and turning fast for a deep kiss where she could savor herself.

Wanda pulls the russian up again afterwards, she’s looking down at her now and the way her boobs bounce with her breathing shows Wanda how close she is. In fact, she is probably holding back.

“Cum for me Tasha” Wanda groans just a second before she gets to taste Nat’s release on her mouth and feels her body lying on top of hers after.

“I like you too, by the way”

“Oh yeah, I think I noticed”

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suesylvesterf · 3 years

Note

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

#this is so long sorry #long post #radfem safe #separatism #radfem

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

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jeyramarie · 3 years

Text

The recruit- Yelena Belova x Reader (Part 8)

summary: sometimes things are too good to be true

wc: 2,629

warning: blood, guns, angst, cursing

a/n: omg!! two parts left, aaaah!! lmk if you like it, feedback is appreciated! if you wanna be tagged lmk and happy reading 🦋

part 1~ part 2~ part 3~ part 4~ part 5~ part 6~ part 7

The sun crept through the curtains, shining on Y/n’s face causing her to stir awake. She turned on her back and began to rub her eyes, opening them slowly to look at the crack ceiling. Her fingertips traced her lips softly as she remembered what happened the night before. They had finally kissed and they also finally realized the feelings that were involved. Feelings that have been in each other’s heart for quite some time but they were both scared to admit it.

The y/h/c threw the covers off her body and stood up from the bed while stretching her arms up. She walked out of the room, trying to be quiet since Y/n didn’t want to wake Yelena up. The blonde was in the next room and is a light sleeper. The first thing Y/n did once she arrived at the kitchen was make coffee. It was extremely crucial, especially after the night before.

After a few minutes, Y/n finally had her coffee in hand as she leaned against the kitchen counter while looking out a small window. The only thing roaming through her head was the feeling of Yelena’s lips on hers. The way she tasted, the way her hands felt soft on her face. All she wanted to do that second was go and cuddle with the blonde. Y/n was so lost in her thoughts that she never heard Yelena wake up nor saw her standing in the kitchen.

“Morning.” The blonde said, making her partner jump in surprise.

“Hi.” The y/h/c said nervously as she traced her finger around the rim of her mug. Silence fell upon them once more as Yelena prepared her own coffee mug. They both felt awkward, neither of them knew what to say. They didn’t know if they should talk about the kiss or not. Y/n moved to the dining table and sat down, staring out the window in question.

“I think we should talk about it.” Yelena muttered, her accent sounding thick.

“Talk about what?”

“You know what.” Y/n looked up and leaned back on the chair as the blonde moved to sit in front of her.

“I’m sorry for kissing you.” She whispered, tapping her fingers on the mug.

“Don’t apologize… I liked it.” The blonde whispered back with a smile.

“What’s gonna happen now?” The y/h/c asked looking with hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know..” Yelena whispered as Y/n leaned forward with her elbows on the table, closer to her partner.

“We can um… we can just wait and see where it goes… if you want.” The blonde nodded and smiled, pushing her chair back to move to the stove.

Yelena made breakfast that day, for the first time in the whole mission. Y/n was surprised it was actually good which caused the blonde to be low key offended.

“Why would you doubt my cooking skills?” She asked and drank from her juice.

“Well because I've never seen you pick up a knife with the purpose of cooking, it’s always to kill.” Y/n laughed and popped a piece of fruit in her mouth as the blonde chuckled along.

“I don’t hear any complaining.” Yelena mumbled with her mouth full as the y/h/c smiled.

“No complaints, it’s very good.” She smiled widely, interlocking her fingers and placing them under her chin. Y/n looked at the blonde as she continued to eat. Yelena looked up to meet her partners y/e/c eyes, which were already staring.

“We should um… probably think of what to do with Neculai.” The y/h/c whispered as the blonde nodded.

“Do you have anything in mind?” Yelena asked, grabbing both plates and pushing her chair back to stand up.

“I mean… we’re a bit far away and hunting him down is a bit dangerous… but we’ll be free quicker.”

“I think we will be better off if we just find him and kill him. Valentina too.”

“Yeah but they can either find us or kill us first. Both ideas have their downfall.” Y/n said as she pushed back her chair to take her coffee mug to the sink. Yelena was washing the dishes when the y/h/c’s arm came in front of her, placing the dish down. Suddenly, soft lips came in contact with her cheek making her stop and turn to her partner.

“I’m gonna uh… go look for my computer..” Y/n stuttered nervously and walked off, leaving Yelena a blushing and smiley mess.

Somewhere over Europe

Neculai walked back and front inside his private jet as he scratched his chin in thought. He had just left St. Petersburg after questioning Melina and Alexei about where the women may have gone.

Valentina wasn’t good either. She was staring at her hands as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. They were ruining her plan and all Valentina desired was to kill them herself. Get them out of the way.

“Yelena wouldn’t leave without knowing where to go first.” She said and turned to the romanian man who was already staring at her.

“She never moves without a plan. She knew where to go before getting into that helicopter.” Valentina continued, pointing out the window.

“Where do you think they went?” Neculai asked, walking towards her.

“I-I don’t-“

“They can be anywhere by now, Valentina!” He shouted in anger, making her take a few steps back.

“Domnule, am găsit un apartament. Este sub Romanoff la Budapesta. (Sir, we found an apartment. It's under Romanoff in Budapest.)” One of Neculai’s men said, walking towards them with files in his hands. He handed them his boss and nodded his head, excusing himself.

“Mulțumesc, Soran. (Thank you, Soran.)” Neculai mumbled as the man walked away.

“Budapest.” He almost whispered as his eyes scanned the files in his hand.

“It’s not far from here.” Valentina muttered and took the last sip of her drink before putting the glass down.

“Micah! Întoarceți acest avion… mergem la Budapesta. (Micah! Turn this plane around… we’re going to Budapest.)” Neculai shouted at the pilot and turned back to Valentina, lifting up his glass in a toast.

“We can’t just show up there.”

“Who said we can’t? It’s better like this, we can kill them faster.”

The apartment was quiet, the only thing you could hear was Yelena’s shower and Y/n typing away on her computer. She was trying to look for a way to find Neculai first so she went back to the surveillance footage and phone calls from his office. The y/n/c stood up and walked to the kitchen counter to make herself a snack when she heard a door creaking. She believed it was Yelena walking out of the bathroom so Y/n didn’t do anything.

“Hey, so I was thinking we can order chinese today! I really wanna eat out of those cardboard boxes with the chopsticks!” She shouted so the blonde could hear. When she didn’t get a response back, she turned her head towards the hallway in question.

“Yelena?” She called out and saw a figure out of the corner of her eye making her turn and gasp. A metal rod came in contact with her temple, knocking the y/h/c out cold in an instance.

A few minutes went by when Yelena finally stepped out of the bathroom. The apartment was unusually quiet which caused her to be on edge. She walked slowly towards the bedroom and grabbed her gun before walking out to the hallway again. The blonde put her gun up immediately looking into every room until arriving at the kitchen. Her heart broke when she saw Y/n unconscious on the floor causing her to lower the gun and run to her.

“Y/n? Y/n? Hey, come on.” She muttered, turning her body around to see her temple all bloody.

“Y/n-“

“Oh look who it is!” A female voice exclaimed, making Yelena grab her gun immediately.

“No need to shoot… I come in peace.” Valentina smirked and she held her hands up in surrender.

“Where’s Neculai?” The blonde muttered.

“Why? Did you miss me?” He asked, walking next to Valentina with a cigar in between his index and middle finger. Yelena looked at them in anger and shot her gun, taking them by surprise. She purposely shot the wall closest to them to make them duck and hide. The blonde took the opportunity to take Y/n and drag her into the bedroom to protect her from them.

“Y/n, hey! Please, wake up. Please, come on, open your eyes.” She said, tapping the y/h/c’s cheek repeatedly. Bullets began to hit the wall and the door making Yelena duck her head and cover Y/n’s body with hers.

After some time, the bullets stopped making the blonde stand up and run to the closet to get the machine gun. The bullets were prepared and she was fully equipped when she decided to open the door. She turned the knob slowly, opening the door as she made sure it didn’t creak. Yelena turned to Y/n one last time before closing the door. The blonde automatically put her gun up and began to walk around the apartment.

She saw movement from the end of the hallway, making her turn and shut from her gun immediately. The bullets hit the wall and she hid behind a column before the other man shot her way. The blonde peaked her head to the hallway and pointed the gun at the shooter, quickly shooting her gun. The man yelled in pain and fell to the ground making Yelena walk out and run to him, to see him struggling. She shot him three more times before taking his gun, putting it in the back of her jeans.

Yelena looked up, searching the place for Neculai or Valentina. Someone shot at her from the bathroom, making her run into what was her bedroom. Bullets hit the wall next to her making the blonde cover her head while they stopped shooting. The room turned quiet signaling the russian that the person had stopped shooting. She took that moment to move behind the door of the bedroom as heavy footsteps were heard down the hall. The masked man walked into the bedroom slowly with his gun up, walking away from the door. Yelena took the gun from her back pocket and fired the gun, shooting him in the back of the head.

“I know you’re here, Belova!” Neculai shouted from somewhere around the house.

“Come out and fight like a real widow!” Valentina followed, making Yelena clench her jaw in anger. She replaced her small gun with the big on and stepped out of the bedroom.

“I’m not hiding, especially from you!” The blonde said loudly, making her way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Neculai stood with his back towards Yelena, not expecting her to be there. She put down her gun and quickly kicked him in the back of the knee to make it bend. Her arm went around his neck, beginning to choke him as his hand went to his pocket to get his little knife. He took it out and waved the knife towards her, slicing her arm.

The blonde yelled in pain and released her grip, making the romanian turn to her immediately. She kicked his hand, watching the knife slide across the floor and kicked his face causing him to fall back. Neculai extended his hand and grabbed her ankle as Yelena swung her other leg to kick him off. As she stood she grabbed her small gun from her pants and pointed it at him as he stood up as well.

He gave her a bloody smile as he caught his breath before bolting towards her. Her finger pulled the trigger causing a loud bang followed by a shout of pain. Yelena shot him on the leg, to slow him down. Necuali stayed on the floor, clutching his thigh as the blonde moved to the living room to see Valentina already pointing the weapon at her.

“Put it down.” Yelena muttered, walking closer to the black haired woman as she took a few steps back.

“Not before you do.” She laughed dryly as they walked around the room slowly.

The blonde stomped forward and grabbed Valentina’s hand as she lifted her foot to kick her in the gut. The black haired woman stumbled back while Yelena walked towards with her fist clenched. The woman dodged her fist and tackled the russian to the ground.

Valentina straddled her and wrapped her hands around the blonde’s neck, keeping her grip strong. Yelena slapped her arms and pushed her face away but nothing seemed to work. Her oxygen levels were dropping fast, her lungs screamed to breath and she was beginning to look purple.

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard followed by a painful shout from Valentina. She immediately released her grip from Yelena’s neck and fell to the floor as she clutched her arm. The blonde sat up slowly and turned around to see Y/n holding up a gun, still pointing it at the injured woman.

“Lena, get up.” The y/h/c stated, never lowering her weapon as her partner hurried towards her.

“Get our things, we’re leaving.” She whispered and Yelena nodded, running towards the bedroom to pack their bags, again. Y/n was left alone, pointing at Valentina as she screamed in agony on the ground.

Suddenly, a piece of fabric went around her neck, pulling her back to crash into a hard chest. The pressure was cutting off her airways as she tried to fight the person off. The y/h/c was lifted slightly off the ground as she heard an evil chuckle next to her ear.

“Looks like I got you now, fetiță dansatoare.(little dancer girl.)” Neculai said with a bloody grin as Y/n’s nails dug into his skin. She tried to gasp for air every chance she got but she couldn’t. Her vision began to fog as her lungs continued to scream for oxygen. She moved her arm down the side of her thigh, pretending to let go but instead, she grabbed the knife placed under a little pocket on her jeans. Y/n lifted her arm and stabbed Neculai on his leg causing him to scream out in pain as he released his grip around the y/h/c. She quickly turned, knife in hand, ready to defend herself when she felt a presence from behind her.

Valentina swung her gun, hitting Y/n on the side of her head causing her to stumble over an already broken coffee table. The y/h/c turned to face and kicked her leg but was quickly grasped by the black haired woman. She laid still for a minute, thinking of an escape plan as she looked at Neculai walk towards them.

“Two against one? Seriously, this is unfair.” Y/n chuckled dryly as she shook her head. She pulled her foot towards her chest causing Valentina to stumble forward, closer to her giving her the opportunity to punch her in the face.

The y/h/c stood up and began to block Neculai’s hits until she was an inch away from the wall. Her body turned and the man’s fist went through the wall as she ran down the hallway towards Yelena. She kicked every door open, hoping to see the blonde with the bag packed. When she kicked the last door, the room was empty and the window was open. Y/n’s face softened as she frowned, noticing that everything was gone too.

yelena taglist: @evansmermaid @ilovefandoms102 @imfuckinggenius @yasmina-aesthete @yelenabelovv @halsmultibitch @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @daniescady @ilovewinter101 @s1ut4nat @nebulablakemurphy @wandanatvoid @lavendernonsense @theshippergal @kacka84 @trin-berly @sav06nat

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova angst #yelena belova smut #yelena belova fic #yelena belova imagine

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baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

love

a/n: hi hi !! here is another fic inspired by one of my fave bts songs <33 hope u all enjoy lmk what u think !! pls excuse any typos

bucky was cold and sad before you, now he is warm and happy, most of all, he’s in love

word count: 3k

masterlist

Bucky woke up from another nightmare, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He let out a shaky breath, looking around his empty apartment. He got up and washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror before tearing his gaze away.

Bucky didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, busying himself until sunrise, when he left his apartment and walked to park nearby.

That’s where he met you.

You were playing fetch with your dog, nearly tumbling over every time he jumped on you to get the ball from your hand, laughing as he would sprint away from you, tongue sticking out.

Bucky smiled at the sight, wishing he had a let of his own. You caught him staring at your dog and smiled, saying a quick ‘hello!’ and calling for you dog to come back.

Bucky returned a smile, the path he was on leading him towards where you stood. Your dog bounded over to you, ball in mouth and dropping it at your feet.

“do you wanna pet him?” You smiled at bucky, your dog staring at him wearily as he stopped near you.

“uh- he doesn’t seem like a fan” Bucky chuckled and you shook your head, scratching behind your dogs ear.

“he’s just protective, his name is ace” you smiled, walking towards Bucky slowly, ace following suit and sniffing at Bucky’s boots.

Ace warmed up to bucky quickly, sitting at his feet and waiting for his payment of pats. Bucky smiled, crouching down to pet him, the dogs soft fur against his hand made him smile.

You smiled at the interaction, thinking of what to say next, you knew this was the Bucky Barnes and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

“I’m y/n” you spoke as Bucky got back up, putting his gloves back on quickly. He turned to face you, a charming smile on his face.

“I’m Bucky” he replied, blushing as he finally saw your face, and wow were you breathtaking.

Your eyes met and you both blushed, you struggled to find words to keep the conversation going, not wanting him to leave so soon.

Is this love?

“why are you up so early” you asked, throwing the ball so ace could chase after it, still full of energy.

He paused for a moment before answering, “just an early bird” he smiled, you nodded. “what about you?” he asked, standing next to you as ace came back, dropping the ball at his feet this time.

“i have to tire him out before i go to work, so i gotta wake up early” you smiled, yawning not long after. You blushed and mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and Bucky smiled at you.

Ace pranced back, no longer wanting to run around and play, only wanted to get back to his cozy bed and lounge for the rest of the day.

“we should get going, this guy makes me carry him to the car and up the stairs if he’s too tired” you laughed, bucky smiled and said goodbye, giving ace a few final pats before saying goodbye to him too.

Sometimes i know, sometimes i don’t

Bucky thought about you and your four legged friend for the rest of the day, wondering if you had always been there when he went for walks, was he too caught up in his own mind to even realize?

Bucky felt the day go by fast, feeling lighter than he had been the day before, talking to his neighbors a bit more and feeling tired by the time the clock hit 12 am rather than the usual 3 am.

He woke up early the next day, another nightmare shaking him awake, checking the clock it read 5:54 am, the sun barely about to rise.

He got up, changing and washing his face, brushing his teeth and heading out the door in 30 minutes.

The sun was up as he walked to the park, keeping an eye out for you, and sure enough there you were, this time throwing a frisbee to entertain ace. You looked exhausted and bucky felt a pang in his chest, how long did you sleep?

Your gaze me Buckys and you smiled brightly, perking up a bit as he walked closer.

“good morning bucky!” You smiled, ace running towards him, his frisbee in his mouth as he jumped to greet the super soldier.

“good morning y/n, and good morning ace!” He smiled, putting on a higher pitched voice for the dog who wagged his tail happily, hitting the mans leg with the frisbee.

Bucky took the frisbee, throwing it so ace could chase after it, you both smiled at your dog, running as fast as he could to catch the disk.

“how’d you sleep?” You asked, noticing the bags under his eyes, he shrugged.

“as well as i usually do. You?” He asked, trying to mask his concern.

“it was okay, wish i could’ve gotten more though” you smiled rubbing your burning eyes before throwing the frisbee once more.

Bucky nodded in agreement, the two of you making small talk until you and ace left once again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked, putting a leash on ace and walking with Bucky towards your car. Bucky smiled brightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow” he replied, already looking forward to it.

You are the one who will give meaning to my memories

For two weeks you and bucky met up and played with ace at the park during early mornings, sometimes walking around the park and talking about your days and what you had to do. Neither one of you prying too much, just enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky reminisced on the memories with a fond smile as he told Steve about you.

“no yeah she’s great, her dog is really cute too” bucky spoke, giddy to see you on Monday.

“why don’t you ask her out then?” Steve questioned and bucky shook his head, not knowing how he would even approach the situation.

The following Monday you greeted bucky with a smile, ace bounding over to him in excitement.

As the two of you fell into routine, Steve’s words rung in his ears, deciding to take a leap of faith.

“would you- do you maybe wanna get dinner someday? together?” Bucky asked, a charming smile on his face as ace wagged his tail, looking up at you, almost as if saying ‘do it! say yes!’

“uh- yeah I’d love that” you smiled at bucky, both of you relieved that the you weren’t alone in wanting more time together.

Before i knew you my heart was filled with straight lines

Bucky was excited for your first date, putting on his best clothes and getting some flowers for you on the way, knocking on your door and heading aces familiar bark.

You opened the door, wearing a nice and casual outfit, letting Bucky in and thanking him for the flowers.

“I’m gonna just put these in water, feel free to sit down” you smiled, hurrying around to finish as quick as possible.

Bucky nodded, taking a seat on your couch and looking around, your home was so, homey. Ace smiling proudly as Bucky pet him.

“okay shall we?” You laughed and bucky smiled, saying goodbye to ace as you closed the door and headed out. Bucky offered you his arm and you gladly took it, walking down the stairs with your arms linked.

“ace makes you carry him all the way up these?” He asked in shock and you nodded, letting out a small chuckle.

“don’t let him fool you he is very evil” you teased, Bucky widened his eyes and nodded his head.

“note to self, never get on aces bad side” he smiled as you laughed, continuing to make easy conversation for the rest of the night.

Bucky found himself being nicer to Sam and the rest of the team, hanging out with them more and even cracking jokes.

“you don’t stare anymore” sam spoke, a smile on his face as steve turned to look at bucky.

“Hm, he doesn’t” steve smirked and bucky rolled his eyes.

“got tired of looking at your face is all” he snickered, making the two other men laugh, bucky took a sip from his beer.

“he’s seeing a girl y’know” steve whispered and bucky groaned as Sam cheered. Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he thought of you. It had only been a week since your first date and he already wanted to take you out again, despite having seen you this morning.

I’d like to be in your novel as a lover

Time passed and you and bucky got closer, going on more dates and texting each other during the day, even calling each other when one of you couldn’t sleep.

Bucky told you about his nightmares, telling you how he would always wake up, too afraid to go back to sleep so he would wait until sunrise and go for a walk.

You told him how you had trouble sleeping, sometimes your mind would just never stop, other times you just had too much work.

Within two months bucky has asked you out, a bouquet of roses for you and treats for ace, he has set up a picnic for you during the sunset, getting your favorite foods and talking the entire evening, finally asking you out when the moon had risen.

I’m just a human, you erode all my edges and turn me into love

You made bucky a better person, teaching him his self worth and to be proud of who he was.

“Bucky wake up, angel it’s just a nightmare” you shook him gently, ace watching from the foot of the bed.

Bucky shot up quickly, breathing heavily as you placed a hand on his back, pulling him into you after he has calmed down.

“you’re here, you’re with me you’re okay” you assured him, wrapping him in your arms and holding him tightly.

“it was bad, i was bad” he mumbled, tears falling down his face.

“you aren’t him. you are good, you are human baby, you’re my love” he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on your steady heartbeat as you ran your fingers through his hair, his arm draping over your stomach as he slowly fell back to sleep.

Buckys nightmares became more scarce, he became happier and less cold, embracing who he was.

He was also helplessly in love with you, constantly buying you flowers, taking you out on dates, taking care of you when he could, writing you letters, and so much more.

You make live to a love

After coming into his life you made bucky a better person, you made him into the person he always wanted to be.

Bucky no longer walked with his head down, rather he walked with a set gaze, giving a kind smile to strangers on the street and helping those in need, helping the others his friends when they needed him and even volunteering at the local animal shelter when he could.

Because of you i know why a person should live by love

Before you bucky would punch his way out of all his fights, he would be hot headed and angry if he got into an argument with someone on the team.

Now he was understanding and patient, listening to what the other had to say and looking to reason with them, taking time to communicate. Bucky was sympathetic, not wanting to fight every villain they came across, instead trying to reason with them. Between him and Sam, usually they didn’t even have to fight.

I live so i love

“angel? I’m home!” You called out, ace greeting you at the door, smiling at the freshly cooked dinner on the dining table, it was your favorite.

“Happy one year doll” Bucky smiled as you turned around, hugging him tightly and kissing him all over his face.

“buck i don’t know what to say” you smiled, still in awe of all he had done.

“don’t say anything, just go get changed and let’s enjoy our night yeah?” He replied, kissing you once more before letting you go.

You were thankful he opted for a night in, exhausted from work and wanting only to be in your lovers arms. And you did exactly that, spending the night dancing in your living room, laughing at his bad jokes and sharing stories.

“okay best pick up line go” you smiled, excited to see what he would say.

“not really a pick up line but” Bucky paused, looking you in the eyes. “It’s a long way from I to U, fuck JKLMNOPQRST, i crossed all the letters and i reached you” he smirked, loving the way your heart raced at his words.

“now i know why you were such a ladies man in the 40s” you whispered, crashing his lips onto yours.

If i go would you be sad?

“God james cant you just shut up and listen to me for one second!” You stated, voice raising out of frustration.

“well maybe if you could get it through your stubborn head that it wasn’t my fault maybe I’d stop having to explain” Bucky spoke angry, his voice steady as he clenched his jaw.

You were upset he had kept you in the dark about an ongoing mission, he was upset you didn’t realize he had done it to keep you safe.

“you keep saying you did it to keep me safe, James i was almost killed because i didn’t know! How is that keeping me safe?” You spoke, anger boiling over as you sat on the couch, wanting to just sleep.

“if i had told you, you would have never let me be as protective as i have been! You wouldn’t have taken your vacation days because you’re too stubborn” Bucky spoke, still standing across from you.

“I just need some time to think” you spoke softly, Bucky’s heart fell. We’re you gonna leave him?

“I’ll go” Bucky mumbled, already moving to pack a bag.

“bucky stop” you spoke, making him stop in his tracks. “sit down i don’t want you to leave, let’s talk about it angel” you sighed, wanting to just work it out and be in his arms once more.

You’re my love

Bucky was excited, everything had been planned perfectly. He had woken up at 4 am, getting everything ready for the following morning.

He had driven to the park with Sam and Steve who helped him set up the picnic, a blanket laid out with fruits and drinks along with dog toys to play with ace.

It had been nearly 4 years since the two of you had met, he knew you were the one for him.

As the sun rose you woke up, getting ready to take ace out with Bucky, only to find the two of them gone.

Just as you finished getting ready bucky walked in, a smile on his face.

“goodmorning doll, let’s get going yeah? already got ace in the car” he smiled and you thanked him, heading out the door and to the park.

when you arrived you immediately saw the picnic.

“buck what-” you began and he cut you off.

“just because” he smiled and you smiled, sure he always took you on dates but this was different, it felt more intimate.

As the two of you sat on the blanket and munched on food ace ate some treats bucky had gotten him, excited to play in a couple of minutes.

“I taught him a new trick” Bucky smiled and you raised your eyebrows, sitting up straighter to see ace perform said trick.

“let’s see what you got Barnes” you smirked and he smiled.

“ace go fetch!” Bucky spoke, ace ran from the blanket in a straight line.

“haha bucky, we both know he already knew that, plus you didn’t even throw-” you cut yourself off as you saw ace pick something up, running back towards the two of you. Bucky stood up, offering you a hand so you could get up.

“y/n, i love you, you taught me what love is, you made me into a better person, from the moment we met i always felt like we were meant to be.” Bucky spoke, glancing over to see ace closer to the two of you, a little over halfway back.

“you’re my person, my desire, my pride, my one and only love” Bucky spoke, crouching down and taking the small box from aces mouth, letting him and giving him more treats.

Bucky got on one knee, opening the box and looking at you with bright eyes. Your vision was blurry, but unlike four years ago, it wasn’t from sleep, but from tears.

“y/n, doll, will you marry me?”

You nodded your head quickly, wiping away your tears and smiling brightly.

“yes, of course yes angel” you replied, wrapping your arms around him as he picking you up and spun you around, setting you down and kiss you, making your knees weak.

He slipped the ring on your finger with a smile, ace barking as the two of you kissed once more, pulling away with a smile.

“that has to be his best trick” you joked, petting ace and kissing the top of his head.

“now i gotta train him to be the ring bearer for the wedding” Bucky laughed and you nodded, squinting your eyes as you saw Sam and Steve running in the distance.

“is that-?” You questioned and bucky laughed, the two men cheering as they saw you and bucky cuddled up.

“she said yes!” Bucky called out and the two men cheered, arriving out of breath.

“thank god, he woke us up at like 3 am to get everything ready” sam spoke and Steve nodded, giving the two of you a hug, Sam quickly following suit.

“I’m happy for you guys” Sam spoke, Steve nodding along side him, squeezing Buckys arm before they left the two of you alone.

You smiled as you looked up at the sky, pinks and reds painting the clouds. You turned to tell bucky, but decided against it when you saw him on the floor playing with ace, voice high pitched as he baby talked him.

Your heart melted, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of you life with your two favorite boys.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes angst #soft bucky barnes #fluffy bucky barnes

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yanderedanganronpa · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your blog! May I request a yandere!Kokichi punishing his darling? Preferably female? Thank you!

Yandere Kokichi punishing his darling

TW: kidnapping, name-calling, knife, restraints, burns

ty for the request and sorry it took so long!! I hope you like it and sorry if it was too much, lmk what you think :D

“Oh where has my darling s/o gone off to now?”

That was the only thing you heard between the thing wall that separated you and the man who has kept you captive for..you’ve lost count how long by now.

The taunting tone sending chills down your spine. You’d managed to escape the basement and found yourself in one of the many rooms of the house he kept you hidden away.

“If you wanted to play hide-and-seek you could’ve just asked me, y’know~”

You watch diligently through the panes of the closet door, as he scraped the large kitchen knife he wielded in his hand against the wall, making a harsh metallic sound as you cringed at the thought.

Brandishing a kitchen knife the glint of the knife catching your eye as he walked past.

You prayed in your head over and over

“Please, please, please, please don’t let him find me.”

Luckily enough he walked right past the dark closet which had you hidden inside.

You listened intensely until the door shut and hesitantly opened the wooden panel with shaky hands.

Stepping out of there, you had to get out of there quickly, it’s only a matter of time before he found you. Striding towards the door wondering to yourself if you should open it. After all you had no idea what could be outside, for all you know he could be waiting outside that very door with his knife.. shivering again.

Deciding to just do it before you back out, you slowly turn the knob, very slowly and peak out of the crack and it seems like there’s no sign of Kokichi, all you see is a dark hallway, you could barely see. He probably turned off the lights to mess with you, he knows you don’t know how to navigate.

You felt as if your feet couldn’t move but you forced yourself anyways, moving one after the other, stepping into the hall. Suddenly the adrenaline kicked in, you were escaping, you’re gonna be free, finally free away from this hell-hole. As if your feet were moving on their own they carried you far you had no idea where you were going, you went inside the first room you saw, hoping to find anything to help, a window or something, anything.

You swung the door open, thank god it was unlocked, you breathed a sigh of relief. Scanning the room side to side upon entry, a small dark room a little crowded with boxes seemed to be a storage room.

Your ears perked up at the distant sound of footsteps. As the noise grew closer it followed with a soft humming of a cheerful tune, it sounded like it was heading straight in your direction. You had to think fast.

Spotting a tall shelf you decided that was your only choice, your options growing short. Quickly you quietly stepped on the wooden floor as fast as you could and curled up behind it for cover.

Just your luck, the doorknob immediately began to rattle and steadily open with an eerie creek. You felt your breathing unsteadily increase.

Your eyelids shut, along with your hand over your mouth to cover your harsh breath, repeating mantras of safety in your head.

“Boo~” you heard a quiet whisper so close to your ear you could feel his breath.

You let out an ear-splitting shriek, jumping up and falling on your butt from shock. “I guess this means I win!” He announced childishly. Eyes widening, looking back onto the deep purple of his eyes. You can’t get caught so easily, you weren’t losing this chance, who knows if you would get another one?

You stood up with trembling legs, so fast your head felt dizzy from the adrenaline and booked it, turning on your heels in the only direction you could, only to be soon yanked by the hair backwards, your neck straining from the position.

“Now, now.” He said through gritted teeth, holding you next to himself by the roots of your hair. “Just where do you think you’re going, darling?” his tone dangerously low.

You winced from the pain he held over you, trying to get out of his hands. “nngh” you squirmed, “Let go!” you demanded.

He laughed at your request, “Now why would I do that, hmm?” he snickered.

You did everything you could to get away from his grasp but it was pointless, you didn’t want to accept that fact.

Only then did you remember the knife he was carrying, swiftly glancing down to his other hand which in fact tightly gripped the handle of the weapon.

“Did you really think i was that dumb?” He mockingly stated. “The closet was such a dumb place to go, I just had to wait ‘til you found a new hiding spot.” The liar traced along with a devious giggle.

That’s when your vision went hazy, unable to hold your eyes open any longer. Drifting off to unconsciousness. sorry for the cliché

When you awoke you found yourself right back where you started, in the dark and dusty place you’ve been confined to all this time. Bound by your joints, unable to move.

You try to struggle against the ropes desperately, doing anything you can but it was to little use, they weren’t getting any looser.

As if someone heard the noise from you squirming around, the door opened, enlightening the entry way with light and in walked a short figure. Too dark to make out but you knew who it was, it was all too clear when you heard his signature voice.

“Well, look who’s finally awake.” an audible smug grin adorning his lips.

Light footsteps walked over till he was standing right in front of your immobile body, to the point you could now see Kokichi clearly.

That’s when you smelt it, the familiar nostalgic smell, it made you sick. Cigarettes. You didn’t know Kokichi smoked.

“Y’know,” he started, “I do all of this for you!” preforming a pout on his lips.

“I never asked for this!” you shouted in retaliation. “You-“

That’s all you could say before you felt a hot sharp sting on your cheek, not even processing it until a few seconds later.

The sound reverberated on the concrete walls, your head turned to the side, rendered by the initial shock of the impact.

Kokichi let out a sigh, turning to face you with disappointment, “How many times have you I told you not to run away? Hmm?” Looking you straight in the eyes. “Twenty.. Thirty… Huh?” Demanding an answer. You didn’t want to give in, looking in the other direction, trying to ignore what he’s saying.

“You’re not getting away with it this time.” no discernible emotion opposed to anger in his voice, still with that arrogant smirk., his eyes narrowed.

You shot your eyes back at him, putting on a brave face to show you’re not scared, even though you know what’s to come.

Kokichi shuffled forward so close to you that your nose was almost touching his.

A grin so wide it sent chills down your spine spread across his face, “I’m gonna make sure you never get the idea to misbehave again..” Kokichi taunted clearly enjoying himself.

Moving his right hand to his mouth to take a long drag of the cigarette with a deep inhale, staring you down.

The smoke going straight into your lungs, causing a coughing fit in your throat, much to Kokichi’s amusement.

He took the cigarette out with two fingers, still with an evil grin.

You looked at him with begging eyes, tears welling in your eyes. He wasn’t going to what you’re thinking, right?

You were proven wrong, seconds later when a burning hot sensation pressed deep into the side of your neck. That’s when the tears in your eyes raced down your face as you let out a painful yelp at the initial collision.

Moving your eyes to the source where you see Kokichi pressing the lit cigarette into your skin with all of his strength.

Seeing the piercing smoke waft off of your skin set waves of panic down your body. Clenching your eyes shut as rampant tears found their way out. Screaming in terror and from the excruciating pain. Your cry earning a chuckle from the supreme leader. “Awe, does that hwurt?” He patronized with faux sympathy as he mercifully stopped pressing the cigarette into you.

Answering his question you nodded your head up and down, not wanting to face him again, as he flicked the used ash off of the cigarette.

Hearing a sudden change in his voice, “Good, you deserve every second of this, bitch!” he replied, with genuine sounded anger.

He soon pressed the now shorter cigarette into your collar bone, feeling more painful the second time as you screamed in pain once more. When will this torture end? “Please!” you begged with a trembling voice, almost unable to speak through the pain. “I’m sorry!” You felt as if you can’t take anymore, beginning to get lightheaded. He continued pushing it on your skin for a few more seconds before letting out a long disappointed sigh. Slowly letting it back up and throwing it on the ground, squishing it under his shoe.

The same fingers lifted your face by your chin, making you face him once more. Where you expected a scowl there was a light innocent smile, worrying you further.

All he did was wipe the hot tears from your swollen eyes, you cringing at his touch.

Soon, he stood up and cheerfully walked to the door he came from, leaving you still tied up.

“Bye, bye, s/o.” He swung open the door and walked out “Sleep tight!” You heard from behind the shutting door, and then you were all alone in the dark once again.

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spencersmagic · 3 years

Text

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

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matbaerzal · 3 years

Text

Like This Pt.1 | T. Jost

Summary: Tyson is the best roommate you could ask for, you can't imagine ever living with someone else... no- no not like that, your relationship is purely platonic! > (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) A/N: First fic of the year hafsjkhf.... The reader studies Special Education, which will play a small part throughout this fic. Warnings: A short mention of sexual dreams Reader pronouns: she/her Words: 2,4K Tagging: @konecny-s @vitekvanecek @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @ricohenrique @notaccurateornice @tysojost @justjosty ... lmk if you want to be tagged ❤️

As you reach the door to your apartment you shift your second grocery bag into your left hand before fishing your keys out of your pocket. You hurry to turn the key in your lock as your arms are tired from the heavy weight of the amount of food you’d bought. You huff out as you open the door, absent-mindedly throwing the keys on the side table as you set the groceries down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, can you give me a minute?” you hear Tyson speak as you take off your coat and shoes. In the corner of your eye, you see him put his phone down before pushing his chair back, standing up, and walking over.

“Hey, how was work?”

You huff out a breath in reply, and when you see him grab the groceries you almost try to object, but relief washes over you before you can. You follow him to the kitchen with the intent to sort the food so he can get back to what he was doing, but he brushes you away.

“Go sit down - relax” he gives you a pointed look.

“Thanks” you smile, hesitantly making your way to the couch.

“You hungry?” he speaks over his shoulder as you sit down.

“Very” your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

��I made some dinner earlier, want me to heat it up for you?”

“Don’t you have an interview” you shout back.

“Eh, they can wait” he shrugs

Without waiting for you to reply he takes out the tupperware from the fridge before putting it in the microwave. Once it’s heated up he brings it over to you, along with a glass of water before he gets back to his interview, apologizing profusely to the journalist on the other end of the call for keeping them waiting.

Living with Tyson had its ups and downs, but all in all the two of you fit together well as roommates. You’d met him during his first year in Colorado, back then you were living on campus. You’d planned to move in with a friend of yours, but after she graduated she got a job offer in another state and decided to move, leaving you practically homeless as there was no way you’d be able to afford to live on your own at the time - and there was no chance that you were ever moving in with your dorm room roommate again. Tyson offered for you to stay with him for at least a little bit until you figured things out. Then he realized he really liked having you around. You’d hesitated, thinking he was just trying to be nice, before he practically begged you to stay.

Hundreds of comments from friends asking if you’re dating or having sex later, you’re still living with him - not dating, not having sex, never even having kissed, and neither of you wanted to cross that line. With the way you and Tyson clicked, there were a lot of people who had trouble believing you were just friends, but at this point, you felt like you knew each other too well. All your dirty laundry had been aired out between the two of you - both literally and figuratively. The smell of his week-old workout sweat in the laundry room was enough to put you off. It wouldn’t be fair to say it hadn’t crossed your mind though. Objectively he is very attractive - you can’t deny that - perhaps, maybe your mind traveled places as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around him. You knew for a fact that he’d thought about you too, having drunkenly admitted to you that he had a dream about you once - which explained that one morning where he wouldn’t meet your eye and couldn’t have gotten out of the door quicker.

But neither of you ever acted on your attraction, it was pushed into the back of your minds - ignored completely. Because that’s all it was, an attraction, and nothing more.

You watch him as he continues his interview, zoning out as you eat your food. You hear every tone of his voice, completely focused on him but at the same time not registering a single thing he’s saying. It’s only when he looks over at you that you’re shaken out of it.

“Is it alright?” he whispers, covering the microphone.

You shake your head as you're brought back to the real world, it takes your brain a few seconds to catch what he said and your cheeks feel warm as he chuckles - “Hm?”

“The food? Is it alright?”

“Mm, yeah” you take another bite, resting the fork in the food container as you reach for the TV remote to distract yourself.

You’d been swamped with work lately, between your studies and your part-time job as a teaching assistant, you barely had time to take a breather. Your third year studying Special Education at the University of Denver was hectic, any time not spent at work or on campus or studying at home was spent either eating or sleeping in your bed. Tyson could see how tired you were whenever you came home, he always cooked a little extra for his dinner so you wouldn’t go to bed without eating first. His mediocre pasta meals always tasted like heaven after the long days you had.

By the time Tyson plops down on the couch you’re finished eating and zoned out on an episode of New Girl.

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” he asks and you shake your head - “just studying, writing”.

“Wanna come to the game? I completely get it if you just want to stay in-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to” you perk up, you hadn’t been to a game in who knows how long and you’d put aside your assignments at least for a little while if Tyson ever asked you to. He never had to ask before, you’d come whenever you had time, but it’d been seven weeks now - Tyson kept count.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Tys, really” you pat his thigh - keeping your hand there a touch longer before removing it when you meet his soft eyes.

You wake up late on Sunday, head stuck to the pillow, body hesitant to leave the bed. You’d already woken up once and decided to sleep longer so you force yourself out of bed, put some clothes on and go to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal. Just as you get the milk from the fridge your apartment door opens, signaling that Tyson’s home from his morning skate.

“Good morning” he smirks at you, his eyes running over your thrown-together outfit and noting the remnant of sleep in your eyes.

You nod, trying to speak through the mouthful you just took, making Tyson squint his eyes in a laugh. He waits patiently for you to finish so you can repeat your question to him - “how was the skate?”

“It was alright, easily gonna have a nap after I eat though”

“Want some cereal?” you arch your brow. He stops and thinks for a second, contemplating if he should say yes, or make his usual scrambled eggs - “you know what? Yeah” he decides. You raise your brows at him, about to make a comment but he interrupts you. “Yeah, yeah pour me a bowl before I change my mind”.

You hold your hands up - “wasn’t gonna say anything” you try, but he doesn’t look convinced. You rush to get him a bowl and a spoon, setting them down for him, pouring in some cereal as he comes over to sit next to you on your kitchen island. He pours the milk himself before lifting the bowl to clink against yours, muttering “cheers” before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

You sit in comfortable silence as you eat your food, moving around each other as you put the bowls in the sink to worry about later. You walk to the couch and open your laptop to get some work done before you have to get ready for the game.

“Do you ever take a break?” Tyson yawns, laying down on the couch next to you, his head landing on a pillow close by your thighs.

You figure his questions rhetorical, but his eyes stay on you as you start typing away on your essay. “I’m taking a break later, y’know, at the game”

“No, I mean like a real break, like flat out on the couch, books closed-”

“You’re funny”

“I’m serious”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for breaks Tys”

He goes quiet after that, a thoughtful look on his face as he settles into the couch, your eyes linger on him for a moment before you go back to writing your essay. It doesn’t take long for his breath to get heavy, the small snores escaping him making you smile. As you skim through an article you might use for your essay your free hand finds his hair - his curls too soft to resist running your hand through. His snoring stops as your hand first makes contact making you freeze, but he’s nuzzling into the pillow and snoring again before you know it.

Even after you’ve read the article your hand stays in his hair and you do your best to type with one hand, only opting to use your right hand when absolutely necessary. You were in tweaking stages so luckily you could keep one hand planted in his hair most of the time. You’re checking the clock here and there, knowing he didn’t set an alarm and that he didn’t like napping too long on game days, but just as you’re about to wake him he leans into your touch, eyes slowly blinking open as he hums, absentmindedly you brush his hair away from his forehead - “sleep well?”

“Like a baby” he smiles, “what time is it?”

“uh, two-thirty” you glance over at the little clock on your computer.

He leans into your hand one more time as if to savor the feel before he starts to get up, once on his feet he stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but look as his t-shirt lifts to reveal his stomach, but you avert your eyes quickly and hope he doesn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t comment, “want me to make dinner for you too?” he throws the words your way over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu?” you tease, fully well knowing the answer, even saying it with him once he replies - “chicken and pasta”.

You turn your head to look at him, and he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at you when you smirk at him.

“Yeah, yeah” he brushes you off - “do you want some or no?”

“Yes, please” you smile.

He quickly makes the food, the recipe burned into his brain from making it time after time. He puts a little extra cheese on your plate, coming over to the couch with both plates once he’s done. You close your computer, place it to the side, and take the plate he hands to you with ease. Once your plates are scraped it’s time for Tyson to get ready, change into his suit and leave for the arena.

He walks out of his room wearing one of his three-piece suits and if you didn’t have the restraint you’d built up over the time you’d lived with him you’re sure you would’ve drooled at the sight. You’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you’d never let your weakness for the vest-jacket pairing slip, and he looks oblivious as he meets your eyes. The little spin he does for you does nothing to help and you have to give yourself credit for being so collected when he raises his brows as if to ask: “Is this alright?”.

“Looking good, Tys. I’ll see you after the game” you get off the couch as you speak and give him a quick hug, his phone pinging with a message signaling that JT is waiting for him downstairs as you break away.

“See you later,” he says.

“Kick some Dallas butt.”

He laughs as he walks through the door leaving you to yourself. You don’t wait long until you start getting ready yourself, not being able to focus on your writing with the anticipation of the game in the back of your mind. You put your lucky Avalance hoodie on, grabbing your coat before leaving with more than enough time to catch the warm-ups. There’s a couple of familiar faces there when you arrive. You’d met the players’ girlfriends a few times, mostly in this exact setting and you fell right back into the group again. You felt for them, having to watch their boyfriends play such an unpredictable sport. You guess you could imagine how it felt at least a little, living with Tyson and all, but the energy they brought to every game was admirable.

The game was tight, the boys fell behind in the first period but in the second and third they were no doubt the better team, but the puck just wouldn’t go in the net. With ten minutes left they manage to tie it and with 5 minutes left Tyson takes a tripping penalty. They killed the penalty and scored not long after to secure the win, but you could see Tyson beating himself up over the penalty that could’ve cost them the game. The look on his face as he sat in the penalty box is something you keep in the back of your mind as you leave with the girls to meet him.

He’s one of the first ones to come out of the locker rooms, head hanging low. Gabe pats him on the shoulder before he greets his wife, Tyson throws a forced smile towards his captain that seems genuine to anyone that doesn’t know him the way you do. The smile reaches his eyes once he sees you though and he drapes his arm over your shoulder when he reaches you, leading you towards the garage - “Let’s go home”

To be continued...

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #op:w #nhl fic

264 notes · View notes

cryptiql · 3 years

Text

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

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sour--disposition · 3 years

Text

Baby Steps

harry lewis x fem!reader

Request: Can I have an imagine where Harry accidentally gets you pregnant but no one knows your dating and you are scared to death but he is really good and it all is okay in the end and the rest of the sdmn are very supportive in the whole situation when they first find out about not only the two of you dating but also of the pregnancy. Thanks xx

I’m super open to doing a part two of this where baby w2s meets the uncles and we get super cute harry and baby fluff so lmk if thats something else i should add to the to do list

please check my masterlist to see if requests are open

They were taunting you. The two lines on the stick. It was like they were laughing at you, enjoying the turmoil erupting in your gut. Maybe that was the baby making itself known. Who knows?

What was Harry going to say? Neither of you were ready for a baby, were you? Harry’s career was only growing at this point, the sky was well and truly the limit for the Sidemen and for Harry himself. You couldn’t jeopardise that with an accidental pregnancy. It could ruin everything.

You’d been safe, you were on birth control, for Christ's sake. Yet, here you were, having a face off with 3 pregnancy tests.

You texted your best friend, Gee, immediately, asking if you could come over. She replied instantly, worrying about you but telling you to come over whenever you wanted to.

“What’s wrong?”, Gee asked as soon as she opened the door to you. She looked up up and down, checking you for damage.

“I’m pregnant”, you whispered. “I was late and I thought it was just my birth control fucking around with me but I’ve been really ill the last couple of days and I just thought that I’d take a test and rule out that silly possibility because no way am I pregnant but I am and-”

“Breathe, Y/N”, Gee told you firmly, taking your hand in hers and dragging you over to the sofa. “It’s going to be okay”, she said softly, pulling you into her arms. “Does Harry know?”, she asked.

“No, I came straight here”, you whispered. “Oh, shit. The guys don’t even know we’re together. I think Freezy does but... Hi guys I’m actually Harry’s girlfriend surprise also surprise, I’m pregnant”, you said in a put on, over the top, happy voice. “My God, my life has gone to shit, Gee”, you huffed, slumping back onto the sofa.

“It’ll be fine. It’s your body, Y/N, and it’s your choice what you do with it. If Harry is supportive, that’s great. If not, you’ve got me, and the girls and Will and his friends. Whatever option you pick, you don’t have to do it alone”, Gee told you reassuringly, running her hand comfortingly up and down your arm. “You need to tell Harry and then you can take it from there”.

Gee let you sit with her for a little while longer, letting you calm down and get your thoughts together before you attempted to face Harry. You texted him, asking if he was free and if you could come over. He replied quickly, thank God, telling you to come over whenever you wanted.

“You can ring me whenever, okay? And if you need to come here after, you don’t have to ring, just come straight over. Let me know how everything goes, yeah?”.

The drive to Harry’s was stressful. You seemed to hit every red light possible, and every driver in front of you seemed to have zero sense of urgency. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently, flicking through the Spotify playlist you’d set when you left Gee’s.

By the time you’d parked up and gotten to Harry’s front door, you were practically shaking where you stood. The nerves were wracking through your entire body. Forget butterflies, there was a whole stampede going on in your stomach.

“Hey”, Harry smiled once you’d finally knocked on the door. “Are you okay? You don’t look too good”, he said, worry written plainly across his face.

“Is Freezy here or is it just us?”, you asked, chewing on your lip.

“It’s just us”, Harry said simply, taking your hand in his and guiding you over to the sofa. Once you’d sat down, he rested his hand on your knee. “You’re really worrying me, Y/N. What’s wrong?”.

“Promise you won’t be mad?”, you asked, voice small. Harry nodded, moving his hand to hold yours. “I’m pregnant”.

Harry seemed to lose all control of his face. His mouth dropped open slightly in shock and his hand around yours slackened. “I-”, he spluttered. “I thought we were safe”, he said quietly.

“We were”, you said, voice watery as tears started to fall. “There’s, like, a less than 1% chance. I’m so sorry”, you said, voice cracking slightly with emotion.

“Don’t be sorry, don’t cry”, Harry shushed. He seemed to snap back to reality there and then. He bundled you into his arms, carefully pulling you closer to him. He gently wiped the tears off of your face, leaving his hand there to cup your face. “Don’t ever be sorry”, he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you.

“But the boys and your channel and they don’t even know about us”, you rambled. “I don’t know what to do, Harry”, you whispered into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“It’s your choice, Y/N. It’s your body. I’m not going to force you to have a baby that you don’t want to have, but I’ll be there every step of the way if you choose to keep it”, Harry told you.

“What do you want?”, you asked him quietly. “In an ideal world, what do you want?”.

“Ideally? This would’ve happened a little bit later. But I love you, Y/N. I’ve known from day one that I love you. I want nothing more than to have a family with you and if thats a little bit sooner than we first thought, then so be it. But I’ll be here, no matter what decision we make. All I ask is that you include me. No matter what choice we make, I’m not going anywhere”, Harry said. His thumb came up to swipe at a few more tears that had fallen.

You looked at Harry in awe. “Of course I want this with you, Harry. There’s nothing I want more. Sure, a couple more years would’ve been great. But we can do this, right?”, you asked, voice wavering only slightly.

“Yeah, we can”, Harry smiled. His hand moved from your thigh to your stomach, cupping around what would become a bump in the next few months. “Hi, baby”, he cooed softly, dipping his head down to rest on your chest. “I love you and your Mummy so very much”, he hummed. A smile fell into place on your face as you let yourself bask in the soft moment for a little while.

“Do you want to tell your friends?”, you asked Harry a few minutes later.

“Yeah”, he said simply. “I wanna be a good dad to my baby and that has to start from now. I think they know I’ve got a girlfriend, but I want you to meet them properly finally. And I’ll tell them there and then about Harry Junior. If they can’t get on board, then that’s a them problem”, Harry said with a sense of finality.

“We are not calling this baby Harry Junior, no matter how great of a dad you are”.

You were nervous, but not nearly as nervous as when you’d told Harry that you were pregnant last week. You were sat with Harry on the sofa of his living room, waiting for the rest of the Sidemen to come around. You’d already told Cal, it was kind of hard to deflect the question when he came into the room to see Harry affectionately cradling your body and stomach.

“What if they hate me?”, you asked Harry, leg bouncing in anticipation.

“You know them already, sort of. They won’t hate you. You’re amazing”, Harry promised.

“Yeah but they don’t know me as your girlfriend or the mother of your child”, you stressed. Harry opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a knock on the door.

“That’ll be some of them”. Harry bounced up to open the door, returning to the room followed by Vik, Tobi and Josh. “I got a text from Simon, him and JJ are down the block in an Uber”, Harry said, quickly returning to his spot next to you.

You made small talk with the 3 boys and Harry until JJ, Ethan and Simon arrived. The wait couldn’t have been any longer than 5 minutes, but to you, it felt like a life time.

Once everyone was situated around the living room, Harry gestured at you awkwardly. “So, you know Y/N”, he started, sounding unsure of himself. He was met with a round of nods and ‘mhm’s. “We’ve been together for just over a year”, Harry said bluntly.

You were surprised by the lack of surprise in the room. “You dragged us all the way over here to tell us something we all already knew?”, Vik asked, looking around at the other boys.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly a well kept secret, Harry”, Simon laughed with a smile on his face.

“Oh, well...”, Harry trailed off, blushing and spluttering slightly. “There is something else, though”, he said quietly. “You’ve said I’ve been a bit off the last week and it’s because I’ve really needed to speak to you lot about something”.

“You aren’t pulling a JJ, right?”, Josh asked with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t do diss-tracks again, man, it feels like a fever dream”, he whined. Everyone around the room let out a low chuckle and Ethan poked at JJ’s shoulder, purposefully trying to wind him up.

“No, it’s not about that”, Harry laughed nervously. Harry looked like he was trying to find the words, but he was too nervous to string any of them together to form a coherent sentence.

“Last week I found out I’m pregnant”, you said, squeezing Harry’s hand gently in your own.

The shocked faces almost made you burst out into laughter. Over the last week, it was all you and Harry had talked about and it helped the both of you come to terms with the reality of the situation. It was still daunting, but you knew that you weren’t doing it alone which lifted a massive weight off of your chest.

Shocked faces soon broke out into huge grins. “Congratulations!”, Josh beamed from the other side of the living room. “How far along are you?”, he asked you.

“I’m not too sure, I have a doctors appointment tomorrow because I need to know if my birth control will have done any damage. But I’d say maybe 8 weeks, give or take”, you smiled.

“You had a good time in Italy then, Harry?”, JJ teased from his spot in the chair, earning him a swift swat from Simon.

Harry’s face screwed up in confusion. “What does our anniversary trip have anything to do with - Oh...”, Harry trailed off, cheeks immediately setting alight with a pinkish red blush. You couldn’t help but giggle, leaning gently against Harry’s side. “Wait, how did you know about our anniversary trip?”, Harry asked.

“Like we said, Harry. You aren’t very subtle”.

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