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munacy · 1 year

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Anticipation

@wolfstarmicrofic

A continuation for @stars-a-n-d-scars Part 1 (ignorance) Part 2 (duck)

There is no way this plan can go wrong. It was concocted by the ingenious James F. Potter himself, and James F. Potter does not fail, as a general rule.

"All we have to do, Wormy, is come up with a list of things that gay blokes like, and see if Remus likes those things too!"

Peter's eyes become as round as Galleons. "That's genius, Prongs!"

James is aware.

"Okay, so what goes on the list then?" Peter asks eagerly.

Well, alright, he's not thought that far.

"Hell, I dunno, Peter. How did we know with Sirius?"

"You mean besides the fact that he follows Remus around like a...well, like a puppy dog?"

"No, you're right, Sirius was too easy," James agrees grimly. Then he sighs. "Well, s'not like I'm some authority on queer culture; I've never fancied a bloke before!"

"...Not once?" Peter says slyly.

James tenses.

"...And just what are you implying?"

"That I know that you've given Regulus Black's bare arse a good peek in the lockers--"

"I WAS NOT CHECKING HIM OUT, YOU CRETIN! I WAS TRYING TO SEE IF HE HAS THE SAME BIRTHMARK AS SIRIUS!!--"

"--Okay, not helping your case even a little--"

"--AND I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE, YOU BASTARD!!"

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

The following morning, they decide to wing it. Winging things has worked out well for them in the past, and the timing could not be better, as Madame Pomfrey has decided to keep Sirius in the Hospital Wing until she rules out a few magical maladies (although, not once has she let James skive off after being lovesick over Lily, which is a genuine illness). It's not often that they can get Remus alone without Sirius attached like a limpet.

"Watch this," Peter hisses, holding a peach in one hand and a banana in the other. "Gay blokes love bananas."

"By Merlin, Peter, I'm beginning to suspect there's a genius hidden under all of that blue-eyed naivety."

Peter makes a pleased expression before turning to Remus at the breakfast table. "Oi, Moony, I've grabbed two fruit, one for you, one for me. Which one would you like?"

Remus barely looks up from his book before selecting the banana with a muttered "thanks".

James and Peter share a look of unbridled glee, then turn to stare at Remus as he chomps away at the benign yellow fruit. His amber eyes finally drift up to meet their combined intense gaze, and he swallows, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you two alright?...You're sort of being… really weird, right now."

James breathes out a bit shakily. "You really like bananas, don't you, Moony," he says unblinkingly.

"Erm...No, not really. Actually hate 'em,” Remus scowls, clearly disturbed by their laser-focused attention.

"What!? Why did you pick it over the peach, then, why?!" cries Peter melodramatically and clawing the air with his hands.

"Because!" Remus yells back, brows furrowing with increasing bewilderment, "Pomfrey wants me to try to get more potassium in! Says it might help with the cramps around the full!"

He looks between James' and Peter's inexplicably devastated expressions, and scoffs, picking up his tray and leaving to go sit with Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald.

"Fuck," James moans.

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

"Okay, okay, this is a sure thing," James mutters at rapid-fire. "Gay blokes love ABBA."

"Brilliant," Peter nods, face open and trusting.

"Quick! I hear him coming!"

As Remus enters the dormitory to exchange his Arithmancy book for Ancient Runes, his eardrums are viciously assaulted with the bouncy strains of "Dancing Queen", blasting from their record player with enough magically-enhanced volume to rattle the window pane.

OOH, YOU CAN DANCE!

"WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS!"

YOU CAN JIVE!

"ISN'T IT WONDERFUL!" screams James.

HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!

"IT MAKES ME FEEL MY DEEP INSIDE FEELINGS ON THE OUTSIDE!" howls Peter.

OOOH, SEE THAT GIRL--

Remus casts a wordless spell that goes off with a bang, bringing the record player to a tenth of the volume.

"I fucking hate disco," he growls, storming out of the dorm and slamming the door on his way out.

Peter sighs. "Prongs, maybe he just isn't bent? Wouldn't that be such a shame for poor old--"

"PETE! P-Pete, mate, your foot!"

Peter looks down at his traitorous foot, tapping along—completely of its own accord—to ABBA. "Fuck!" he wails. "It's too catchy!"

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

They have one last idea, but neither of them is enthusiastic about it.

"It's got to be you, Prongs," Peter whimpers panickily, "I haven't got the pectorals!"

And Peter, unfortunately, has never been so right.

But what if Remus falls in love with me instead? He's bound to! Doesn't that defeat the entire purpose? Poor Padfoot, he'd be so devastated.

"Don't think about the ramifications just now," Peter interrupts his internal monologue, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's gold-rimmed spectacles. "We've got no choice, Jamie. At this point, it's embarrassing we haven't been able to figure out this very basic thing about our best mate."

James nods reluctantly.

Into the breach.

That late afternoon finds James, alone in the dorm, exiting a gratuitously steamy shower once he hears that snick of the dormitory door shutting, signaling that Remus has returned from Charms Club.

Took the wanker long enough, I'm all pruney now.

"Oh, Reeemuuus!" James calls in a purr, very loosely wrapping a towel around his hips. "Could you come here a second?"

The door opens tentatively.

"Christ, Prongs, it's like a rainforest in here. How long did you shower for?" Remus accuses, his unruly tawny curls already protesting against the humidity. "And why are you showering in the middle of the day?"

James waits until Remus finally makes eye contact with him to take a few slow, deliberate steps closer, looking up at Remus (damn, but the boy just keeps shooting up) from under his dark lashes.

"And...when do you like to take long showers, Remus?" he murmurs.

"Eh? I dunno, sometimes I like to take a hot bath or two after the full." Remus' brows furrow in concern. "You feeling alright, Prongs? Maybe you've got whatever Padfoot has. Where is Padfoot, anyway?"

James steps ever closer. He could touch Remus. He's about to touch Remus. HIs mouth goes oddly dry with anticipation.

"Don't worry about Sirius. Worry about me for a second," he whispers.

Remus' intense golden eyes finally break their gaze as they subtly flick up and down James' body.

"Oh, is that why you called me in here?"

Gotcha, you lovely, queer bastard.

"Why, yes, Remus, I'm dying for you to--"

An exasperated sigh and eyeroll interrupt what would have been a surefire seduction.

"As I've told you nigh on a hundred times, Prongs, wizards don't get skin cancer. That mole on your lower back looks perfectly normal, as I've already said, and I'm not going to look at it again!"

James can only gape at Remus.

He tuts. "I don't have time for this; you're literally fine. I'm going to see if Pads is still in the Hospital Wing."

Remus exits in a whirl, leaving James reeling in the bathroom--wet, humiliated, and, if he's being completely honest with himself, just the tiniest bit aroused.

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

"James! James!" Peter bursts into the dormitory with Sirius in tow, moments after James has gotten clothes back on. "Padfoot's out of the Hospital Wing and I've informed him of our mission!"

"Right, mate," Sirius follows breathlessly. "You lot are trying to figure out if Moony's gay, then?"

James moans and put his head in his hands. He feels this close to unraveling. "We've been trying to figure it out all day!"

"Really?? What have you tried?" prompts Sirius eagerly.

"POTASSIUM!" shouts James incoherently.

"Erm--"

"Disco, too, louder than eruption of Krakatoa," interjects Peter mournfully.

"Great--" James suppresses a sob--"Great, rock hard pectorals. Prize-winning pectorals. Boy's unflappable. I have no idea."

Sirius purses his lips, clearly between seeking clarification on the gibberish they've spouted and slapping them both silly. Fortunately for all involved parties, he does neither.

"Lads. Here's an idea. Why don't we just ask him?"

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

Thanks to those of you that have stuck around! <3

Part 4: Thirst

#wolfstar #prompt: anticipation #MAJOR crackfic energy #like really really #James and Peter scheming #they're trying to help a bro out #but they're so soo stupid oml #cw: benign but untrue gay stereotypes #this is honestly just a 1000+ words of james and peter being complete fucking idiots together #also bipanic james potter

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letsgofoletsgo · 1 year

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All We Can Do Is Keep On Living

From the balconies adorning High Guardian Academy, one could see the majority of Lyngarth. The buildings sprawled downwards, creating an urban crest upon the hill it stood on. At night, the city painted an impressive display of light. A soft yellow glow blanketed the streets, with light pinks, greens, and blues dotting the corners. It created a tranquil atmosphere, the bustling urban energy quieting as the moon rose.

It was such a night that Caraway found himself on one of the balconies, leaning himself on the cobblestone edge as he overlooked the city. He took in the cool air that brushed his raven locks, perhaps his only company all the way up there. Perhaps he wished his thoughts were as unoccupied as his surroundings. He scanned the rooftops absentmindedly, trying to distract himself from the growing pit in his stomach. He sighed, closing his eyes to regain himself.

He knew there was only so much he could do. He knew she was sent for a reason. But he also knew he would give anything just to know what happened. Just to hear her voice again.

Just to know that she was okay.

Caraway lost track of how long he stood there, staring across the skyline, unable to get her off his mind. In his mental paralysis, time left his conscious, unable to break free of the looping dread. He felt like a sitting duck, even if only to his own thoughts. The worry almost began to cloud his vision, clinging to him, filling his throat-

“Caraway?”

The man jumped, being snapped out of his repeating psyche. Looking back, there stood Coriander, face wide with surprise, and perhaps a hint of concern.

“Cori! How long have you been there?” He sputtered, trying to gain his bearings.

“I just got here. You were just staring into space, is something wrong?”

He hesitated. “N-No, just lost in thought a bit is all.”

Xyr face softened, fluffy ears dropping just slightly. “Mind if I join you?”

“By all means.”

Cori approached his side, xyr hooves clicking against the stone of the balcony.

“I don’t often see you in your faun form around campus.” He mentioned.

“It’s just easier to get up here without a 500 pound horse body.” Xe giggled. “In all honesty, I don’t know how Chervil does it.”

“As much as I hate to say it, this building wasn’t designed for taur species.” He shrugged. “Before you and Chervil, we’ve only had a handful of taurs attending over the years.”

“Well, I suppose I knew what I got into when I moved to a non-taur town.”

Caraway nodded solemnly. Cori studied his face briefly.

“So, you excited for spring break?”

“Am I ever. My curriculum was changed so that I had to give an entirely different final project than I normally do, and grading it ended up being a nightmare.”

“Jeez, sorry to hear. Did the students like it at least?”

“Eh, about as much as any student can enjoy a project, I guess. Wasn’t too hard on them at least.”

“Yeah.”

Cori perked up suddenly. “Oh! I’ve been meaning to tell you, I talked to Dretch, and she said that my application was approved!”

Caraway looked over with pleasant surprise. “Really? That’s great to hear!”

“I know! I mean, I might not be like, a proper teacher like you are, but I’ve always loved working with elemental magic, and I think I would be a half decent tutor.”

“Hey now, no matter your rank, if you’re teaching students, you’re a proper teacher.” He smiled warmly at xem. “I know you’ll be great, the students already love you.”

“Heh, thanks. I just try to do my best is all.” Xe shrugged. “Just wait until I tell Anise and Aloe, we are gonna party.”

Caraway chuckled. “I have no doubt.”

“You know, you’re always welcome to come.” Xe winked playfully.

“We’ll see. I’m not as spry as I once was, I can’t just shake off a hangover like I could in my twenties.”

“Well, we’ll party without you if we must, old man.” Cori teased.

Caraway nudged xem gently, rolling his eyes with a sarcastic smirk. Cori simply laughed.

“Don’t worry though, I’d be more than down for a movie night when you’re not up to get crazy.”

“Deal.”

The two stood in silence for a moment. A sense of calmness came over him

“You remember when Lavender would join us?”

Caraway froze. Earlier, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, about Lavender- but now he had no words.

“Even if she was busy with her duties most of the time, I remember the few times she did come out with us.” Coriander had a wistful look in xyr eye, a small grin accompanying xyr recollection. “I never thought such a respected, dignified guardian could be such a party animal. Hell, some say she even put Anise to shame, and that girl would chug perfume if it granted her the bragging rights.” Xe giggled at the memory. “And even after downing all that booze, she barely even had a headache the next day. Forget nerves of steel, that woman had a liver of steel.”

Caraway did remember those nights. Even as she got older, Lavender never lost that wild side to her. The last few nights that she was with them, before she disappeared, he felt… Free. At ease. All that mattered was being with their friends and having a good time.

What he’d give to go back, to spend one more night with her close to him.

“I dunno, I just… I guess I’d like to have one more night like that.” Cori said, turning to him. “You know?”

“Er- yeah.” Once again, Caraway found himself not fully present.

This time, Cori noticed. “Caraway, are you sure you’re alright?”

The man didn’t speak for a moment. His gaze shifted between his hands and the skyline, debating on whether to tell xem.

"I… I’ve just been thinking about Lavender a lot recently. It's been four years since she’s disappeared now, and I just don’t know how to feel anymore. I know she can handle herself, but... I can’t help but worry.”

As he turned back to xem, he could almost see xyr stomach drop. “Caraway, I… I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were feeling this way- I wouldn’t have brought it up if I did.”

“No, no, don’t worry. It's not your fault.” He reassured. “I’m the one who should apologize, I didn’t mean for you to see me like this.”

Looking back down to the city below, arms crossed in front of him, Caraway couldn’t bring himself to return xyr gaze. The mess of emotions began to bubble inside of him again, fighting himself to keep from overflowing. Time seemed to slow as he felt xyr eyes remain on him. What was there left to say?

To his surprise, Cori wrapped xyr arms around his, placing xyr head on his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I know how close you two were, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide your feelings.” Xe said, a somber tone in xyr voice.

Something about xyr words, the warmth of xyr body against his, soothed him. His form sagged, closing his eyes as he rested his head against xyrs. The fur of xyr ears brushed against his jaw, soft and light on his skin. He found his spiraling worry fading against xem, replaced by a tender feeling of comfort. Time slipped by once again, but no longer did the rushing, anxious sensation loom over it. Instead, he found himself lost in Cori’s presence.

“I know I didn’t know her as well as you did, but I know how much she meant to you.” Xe spoke softly. “As much as we all wish she would come back, there’s only so much we can do.”

Xe looked him in the eye, placing xyr hands on his shoulders. “So, we should focus on living on as best we can. I don’t know what happened to Lavender, but I know that’s what she’d want.”

Caraway exhaled. “Thank you, Coriander. I needed to hear that.”

“Of course. We’re here for you, and we never want you to feel alone.”

“I know. I’m grateful that I have friends that care about me as much as you.”

Cori smiled. “You know, I was actually headed to Aloe’s place after, do you want to come with me? I’m sure I can convince them to tone down whatever we originally had planned.” Xe chided.

“Heheh, how thoughtful of you.” He returned, slightly in better spirits. “I’ll come by later, I think I’m going to stick around for a bit.”

“Alright, see you in a bit then. Ring me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

With that, Coriander approached the doorway, waving slightly before xe left. Caraway waved back, watching as xe disappeared into the staircase. He leaned against the stone once again, this time a content expression on his face.

He couldn’t predict the future, no. But he had people who would stay by his side no matter what happened. And that’s all he needed.

#selfship #selfshipper #self ship #selfship writing #self ship writing #selfship community #you put a spell on me 🔮#high guardian spice #HGS #selfshipping #self ship community

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undeadsides · 10 months

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THE SIDES INTRODUCTION!

Divider credit: BenKeiBear and Anlain-Aishang

Note: my sides used to have older names, based off of how I used to hoard names. I used to hoard only names that started with "M"s, so I thought it'd be fun to give all my sides "M" names. I changed them so they could be different and because I do not hoard only "M" names anymore, but you might still see their old names floating around. My sides also use different pronouns, because I use many, many pronouns.

The name "Undead Sides" is a play on "Sanders Sides". However, I don't want to reveal my last name, so instead I used my common username on most socials: IncrediblyUndead.

Undercut are my sides, some information on their relationships, and other silly facts.

(Through out this, I will be referring to myself in 3rd person & using random neopronouns)

EGOTISM — Memphis, he/she

[Plain text: egotism in all caps in pink]

Logo: a hand-held mirror. It's a charm on Memphis' phone.

Memphis represents Revenge's egotism, confidence, (maybe unhealthy amounts of) self-love, and selfishness. She only cares about himself (& Revy) and is willing to do anything to get what Revenge deserves— whether that be through normal conversation or manipulation (... it's usually manipulation). He has a very black and white way of thinking, viewing Revenge and herself as better than those around them, along with thinking they can do no bad or make mistakes.

(Imagine a fusion of Roman and Janus, but if they were much more extreme in their self-confidence and selfishness, & you've got yourself a Memphis)

IMPULSE — Maddox (Madds), it/its

[Plain text: impulse in all caps in red]

Logo: an explosion (similar to the 💥 emoji), placed on both sides of its combat boots.

Maddox represents Revy's impulsivity, controlling a lot of xyr anger issues and violent thoughts. It makes quick judgements, before hearing the full story, and will hold grudges til the ends of the earth. It also represents a lot of Revenge’s self-perseverance, thinking that its actions are helping protect ore. Despite its aggressive and unsympathetic nature, Madds cares heavily for those it finds pleasant (or "not as annoying as everyone else", as it puts it) and will jump in harms way to protect them.

PARANOIA — Payne, xe/xyr/xyrs

[Plain text: paranoia in all caps in orange]

(Used to be: Mercury/Mercs) (also pretend thats yellow and not orange)

Logo: a weird wiggly swirl on xyrs choker.

Payne represents Revenge's paranoia, fear, and overall distrust of others. Xe controls a lot of Revy’s schizophrenic symptoms and intrusive thoughts, but does NOT represent pups schizophrenia. In a case of “ducking out” (something that is impossible in FMP), Payne’s removal would not get rid of Revy’s schizophrenia, but rather cool down a lot of Revy's fear. Payne has a lot of the same goals as Maddox, wanting to protect Revenge, but rather than wanting to beat the shit out of everything, xe would rather run away to get to safety. Payne also has very black and white thinking. Xe holds people xe finds dear as close as possible, while pushing anyone else as far as possible.

COMPASSION — Finnick, he/him

[Plain text: compassion in all caps in green]

(Used to be: Melvin)

Logo: clasped hands as a patch, over his heart, on his battle jacket.

Finnick represents Revy's compassion and care for everyone and the planet earth, along with xyrs low/no empathy. He tends to be objective, wanting to hear everyone’s side of the story and be fair, even when the situation doesn’t call for it. Despite looking unemotionless and sounding monotone, he is often referred to the “nicest” side out of the bunch. He can be overbearing at times with his care and tends to focus in the solution part of a problem, rather than the emotional part.

CREATIVITY — Wentz, or Xx_w3ntzz_xX, he + any neopronouns

[Plain text: creativity in all caps in light blue]

(Used to be: Medusa)

Logo: N/A, as a perler bead necklace.

Wentz represents Revy’s creativity, (potentional) logic, and love for horror, morbid topics, and sexual topics. Nya controls a lot of Revy’s infodumping and hyperfixations and love for research. He doesn’t recognise how his actions or interests can affect others, being loud and annoying and overtalking about not-so-acceptable topics, like what decomposing does to the human body or fetishes; though, nya doesn’t mean any harm. Woof tends to be sensitive to rejection, or what woof assumes to be rejection.

FATIGUE — Nyx, ey/em/eir

[Plain text: fatigue in all caps in purple]

(Used to be: Maven, they/them)

Logo: multiple Zs (similar to the 💤 emoji) as a pin on eirs beanie.

Nyx represents Revenge's fatigue and apathy, controlling a lot of xyr executive dysfunction and general tiredness, however, Nyx does NOT represent Revy's CFS/ME (in the same way Payne does not represent schizophrenia). Nyx tends to be disinterested in everything around em, more focused on emself. Opposite of Memphis though, who’s focused on herself due to viewing himself as inherently Better, Nyx is focused on emself because ey have no energy to care for other people.

My sides are all based on the colour of the rainbow, just like the Sanders Sides are. I do not have an indigo side (which is plot relevant in Flush My Psyche) and I/my self-inserts am the "orange" one.

Some tidbits:

All the sides, minus for Nyx, use canes that are decorated to fit themselves. Memphis' is focused on design and how it looks, rather than usability; Maddox's is falling apart, due to how often it hits things with it; Wentz's cane is decorated in stickers and charms; Finnick's cane has spikes near the bottom and a few political stickers; and Payne's cane has the occassional band sticker.

Nyx uses a wheelchair and occassionally crutches.

The concept of "dark sides" and "light sides" do not exist, as I never viewed any part of me as inherently evil or bad and wasn't raised catholic. (In fact, I'm actually an atheistic satanist so... there would be no way.)

Maddox and Payne could be viewed as on other sides of the same spectrum, both wanting to protect Revenge, but having different ideas on how to do that. They could also represent Fight or Flight: Maddox being fight, Payne being flight.

Maddox and Payne also have similar goals in mind: protect Revenge, any means necessary. Madds and Payne get along better than any of the sides.

Madds and Finnick tend to butt heads a lot— Madds wants to spring into action (usually, a violent action), while Finnick would rather wait until all facts and feelings are known and then make a judgement about action. They argue a lot about what's the best option in any scenario.

(Despite arguing, they will still drop everything for each other, even if they won't admit that outloud. Or know it, themselves.)

Despite Memphis', Nyx's, and Madd's standoffish behavior, the other sides still treat them with respect and care— often to their dislike (or indifference, in Nyx's case).

Nyx falls asleep anywhere and everywhere. It is no surprise to see the sides standing around em, like a shield, as ey sleep in public.

Wentz likes to type, and speak, in "scene speak". How co speaks in it is unknown. But co does it!

Wentz loves to gift people things! ... usually they're realistic and detailed paintings of Their Death. (In FMP, Wentz paints one of these gifts for c!Thomas... He doesn't appreciate it much.)

Wentz is an early 2000s scenester, Payne is a stereotypical myspace emo, and Finnick is a cripplepunk.

(They are these things because I am a cripplepunk scenemo)

Nyx dresses is comfy clothes and usually with lots and lots of layers, as ey has a hard time regulating eir body tempature. Plus, since ey is sleeping everywhere, it's important ey feels comfortable enough to sleep.

Memphis wears ""skimpy"" clothing, often with crop-tops and even smaller miniskirts. Her signature outfit is a tight, bright pink miniskirt, bright pink bra, a neon pink fluffy oversized coat, and fluffy pink knee-high platforms. He loves to go all out and be the center of attention.

Madds wears, like, the "mean, emo big brother" in any disney movie outfits. It especially enjoys wearing shorts that reaches its knees and a hoodie, because there is something desperately wrong with it. (Joke)

Memphis is the tallest side, Wentz is the shortest.

Wentz was the most recent side created! The other sides were made back in middle school or my freshman year of high school, while Wentz was made late 2019 - early 2020.

The sides used to have different traits, before I decided on their current ones:

Anxiety -> Delusion -> Paranoia

Morality -> Compassion

Logic -> Fatigue

Confidence -> Egotism

Violent Thoughts -> Impulse

Payne, Finnick, & Nyx used to be my only sides as I was trying to match the sides' traits in Sanders Sides, but later realised they're my sides and can be whatever I want.

None of my sides represent any of my disabilities or neurodivergencies, because I am uncomfortable with the concept of them "ducking out" & therefore removing my symptoms and traits. (Which is why Payne and Nyx do not represent schizophrenia or CFS/ME, respectively, but rather "control" them— in the same way Remus does not represent Intrusive Thoughts, but Creativity, and simply controls c!Thomas' intrusive thoughts)

(Using Remus is a bad example, as his character jumps around a lot.)

#undead sides #linked in pinned post

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

later | m. izuku

➳ tags ;; fluff, confessions, deku is smooth, kissing, fluff, fem!reader implied i think

➳ wc ;; 2.4k (wtf)

➳ a/n ;; brainrot......

➳ plot ;; izuku midoriya listens to you when you tell him to confess to you again later. he’s waited his whole life for you but he doesn’t know how much longer he can

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He thinks to himself often that it has to be you he’s been chasing all this time.

This isn’t so much a revelation to him. It’s nothing like eureka moment, an aha that he uncovers after years of reflection. After all, he’s not the type to know what he really wants.

Which is funny for many reasons but mostly because he’s a hero. He did want that, still does - but it wasn’t really an active choice. It wasn’t the desire to become a hero in terms of glamour and fame but a deep-seated knowing about the fact he had to become one. That the desire to save people above all else was rooted and deeply ingrained in him that there would never be anything that would fulfill him quite the same way.

He finds it more often than not he’s acting out of pure instinct. Something carnal and perhaps other-worldly that pins him to the world in an almost divine way. All or nothing, there’s one way to approach existence and it’s with this unwavering desire to be kind.

He’s always been that kind of person.

But, if he sat down and thought about it, the desire to be with you is perhaps one of his own. It’s one of the only things he’d chase to the ends of the earth.

Izuku Midoriya has loved you since he was 14

The first time he ever confessed to you was when he was 15, about half way into his first year at U.A. It was outside of your apartment - your childhood home. He’d walk you there after his classes, when he caught you returning from your own. It was an awkward and clumsy teenage confession even then but he can remember the details clearly.

It comes to him a series of images. Orange-yellow light that fell over your face, hairs sticking a little your head, trembling hands, ricocheting heartbeats, the sound of cars passing. He wasn’t very confident then, it makes him laugh thinking back at. But he told you anyways, bursting at the seams with his feelings.

“I like you!”

Your first reaction was shock immediately followed with a somber smile. Though he told you he had liked you, it was in the brief moment afterwards that he though there was more to it than that. He wouldn’t call it a rejection, but a wake-up call. You leaned in to kiss his cheek before whispering something back.

“If you mean it,” ― you whisper, hand on his shoulder and eyes heavy ― “Tell me again later,”

With that, you turned on your heel and went home. He wasn’t sure how to feel for a while, because it’s not like you said no. And you kissed him so that had to mean something.

Rather predictably after that, he became so caught up in hero work, it was only natural that you two grew distant. Once frequent conversations became words in passing, spoken quietly to each other. He went off to become a great hero, and you went off to study what you love.

It was a natural occurrence - he knows this now. He wonders what kind of thinking you had to have been doing to know that at 15. The older he got, the more he thought about what you said. How the once vague mention of “later” became a narrow time-frame. Not a moment too soon and not a second too later.

Izuku Midoriya has loved you all of 8 years. For most of them, it’s been a passive yearning. The emptiness of his bedframe and his disinterest. 8 years and he’s tried and failed to love other people. Maybe he was testing if later would ever come.

He’s 22 and he thinks to himself that he’s been chasing the feeling of loving you this whole time. That adrenaline from when you kissed his cheek all those years ago, he wonders to himself if it’s still there

He’ll have to go find out

After a night-out, you are unfortunately sober on the walk home. Work dinners should have a general policy for how much someone can drink, you think. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to shovel your boss into a taxi and remain regrettably conscious through a series of uncomfortable or agitating questions.

It wasn’t like he was invasive but he was.. annoying? And the fact you couldn’t sit through it by downing half a bottle of wine was a real shame . You’re so stone cold sober that your body shivers in the night air. Heels clacking against the pavement, eyes heavy and exhausted. You could endure it, you were finally going home after all.

You’d take a warm bath and hit the hay. Your body yearned for your bed and you don’t blame it. You sigh to yourself, hands in coat pockets.

“Just a little bit more,” ― you sigh, yawning and wiping your eyes ― “A little more and I’ll be...home?”

You were home, the front door to your building. There was an ominous looking figure sitting on the front steps. Your first reaction was to reach into your pockets and grab your keys between your knuckles. Your heart stuttered as you broached slowly. It was too dark to see clearly but maybe he was nice.

“Uhm.. excuse me, sir”

When he turns his head - your first reaction is to flinch. You step back as he turns his head only to grow stiff. A pair of warm green eyes and head of forest green locks await seems to be staring back at you. He gives you a warm smile - standing on his feet.

In a way, he’s unrecognizable to you. Though you see him all the time, Pro-Hero Deku making news, the image of him in your head is permanently small and frail. In front of you now, he’s grown up to be so big. A whole head taller than you and broad. He’s lean but clearly muscular. Intimidating in a sense.

“Ah, you’re home,” ― he says, non-chalant. You’re trying to recall the last time you spoke to him, the last time you’d even seen him. Maybe a year ago now? ― “I wanted to talk to you,”

Your first though is to ask questions. You had so many of them though, you’re not sure where to start. You want to ask how he’s been, and how did he find you, and how’s work going. You want to ask why he’s here after all this time and if following his dreams has made him happy how he hoped. You want to ask if he remember what he said to you at 15 - wondering if he still gets caught up on it like you do.

None of your words seem to string together right so you just shake your head a little, managing your disbelief.

“About what?” you ask. He pauses for a second, rubbing his chin before smiling at you.

“It’s later,”

Your eyes widen as he steps out of the way, using his hands to gesture towards your apartment. You blink at him but his smile is as cheeky as ever. Teasing and unusually handsome. You flush down to your neck before nodding.

“Oh, uhm.. right. Okay,”― you say, walking towards your complex doors ― “C-come on in,”

“You can uh.. take your shoes off at the door,” ― you say, after taking your own heels off and rushing to the kitchen ― “The green slippers should fit you,”

He nods as he watches you disappear to the kitchen. He takes in your apartment with a soft smile. Photos of you with your friends and family litter the entrance way. It’s filled with a soft yellow light, cozy like he’d expect. From below him, he hears a soft purr

A beige cat walks around his legs, observing him quietly before nuzzling against his thigh. His smile grows wide as he squats down and holds his hand for the kitty, waiting for it to approve of him before reaching and petting him. The cat is quick to the jump into his forearms.

“Who’s this?”

He ducks as he enters into the main area of your apartment. Your eyes widen as your usually stand-offish cat nuzzles comfortably in your childhood friends chest.

“His name is Creampuff,” ― you say, mildly stunned ― “He’s two,”

“What a good boy,”

Your heart races as you see him. After all this time, his presence still gives you those nervous butterflies. Maybe it’s because he’s become so attractive. Broader and taller but more rugged to look at.You feel like the floor might swallow you up.

“I’ll.. put on some tea,”

You take off your coat but you’re still in your work clothes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s staring at you. You’re too afraid to look behind you and see, confirm but his gaze is so heavy you’re almost certain. He traces the outline of your body and back with his eyes.

He can’t help but think you’ve filled out some. Even from behind - you look awfully pretty. You look disheveled and sleepy like you did back in highschool, after cramming for exams. A little older now with that same cute expression on your face. It’s hard to hold back or tear himself from you - so he doesn’t try. He just watches as you pour the tea into mugs and let it steep. Minutes pass and it’s quiet but not as uncomfortable as you’d expect.

You return to your kitchen table with two mugs, setting his down on a coaster.

“Careful.. it’s hot,”

He nods, taking the mug in his hands and blowing on it before taking a sip. He hums.

“Ah.. it’s good. Thank you,”

A silence settle between you briefly. Your heart is in your throat, hands trembling a little on the table. When he notices, he reaches for them. This is another of his habits, you think. Comforting people must be second nature to him, but it only makes you more nervous.

“So.. how’ve you been?”

It’s the only thing you can think to ask. He studies your expression for a while. It used to the opposite of this. He used to be the nervous one, stuttery and unsure. You were always confident and steady - he’s sure you still are. This side of you is endearing though. He chuckles.

“I’ve been good. Work is hectic but that’s always,” ― and you’re going to ask him another question. Dodge what he’s really here for, but he cuts you off ― “I’ve missed you though, so I came to visit,”

You can feel it. This tension that presses against your back and makes you sit straight. He has that determined look in his eyes, easily recognizable when you watch him. In interviews and during fights and everything in between - like he knows what he’s going up against. To have it directed at you is so nerve-wracking, you find yourself doling under the pressure of his gaze.

You fidget, voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was always too much for to you handle.

“O-oh?,”

He nods, taking your hand in his. He holds it to his lips, kisses your knuckles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You wonder where he learned to act like this. He’s different but the same. It’s too much for you so you shut your eyes.

He stands until he’s on your side of the table. Rests on the corners edge with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at you with fondness, an unmistakable affection. After all these years, it’s only grown. Double and tripled in size. No matter how much he would try and punch it down, it never deflates.

He thinks loving you is an act of heroism. The only way he could ever really save himself. 8 years and it feels like you’re old friends. Nothing unnatural or wholly uncomfortable. It’s strange.

“I thought about what you said. About telling you later. This time though,” ― he drops to the floor, crouched between your legs so slightly. He does it to look straight at you ― “This time though, I have to tell you properly so you can’t make me wait again,”

“I wasn’t making you wait,” you insist. He takes your hand in his and you unravel, body slumped. He kisses the palms of your hands, the inside of your wrist and it feels like gravity has no mercy on you.

“It felt like hell,” ― he tells you ― “I can’t sit still anymore so I’m telling you now. Even if you want to run away, I can’t let you,”

You frown, heart rapid.

“That’s not very heroic,”

He smiles.

“Good. I don’t wanna be your hero. I just want to love you selfishly as Izuku and not Deku,” ― he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles ― “So tell me you love me back and grant my wish. I waited all this time,”

You’re stunned into silence at his request. Eyes feeling especially water as he leans into you. It doesn’t make sense but it feels right. Your heart is beating - like you can feel all the blood pumping in you and your head feels light.

“You say it so easily,”

He laughs. It’s bright just like how you remember.

“How could you know after all this time? How could you be sure?”

He shrugs. You hit his shoulder at the nonchalance but he only chuckles. He leans in closer to you, inches away from your face.

“I waited for you all this time. Shouldn’t you give me a chance to show you?”

You sniffle as his hands cup your cheeks. His smile is so inviting, how could you refuse him?

“I’d like to kiss you,” ― he pauses, shaking his head ― “I want to show you. Let me,”

You nod as he leans into you. His lips are pillow and soft - touch addicting. You give into him so easily, tongue tied. He keeps you close, hand at the base of your neck. It feels so good, so perfect. You believe him when he kisses you like this With secrets under his tongue, between his teeth.

“Tell me your answer,” ― he demands, soft but stern ― “You didn’t before. I need to hear it,”

You give him an exasperated laugh.

“I love you.. obviously”

Right. Obviously indeed.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#deku x reader #bnha x reader #writing tag #deku x you #deku x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x y/n

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kyuala · 3 years

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NCT DREAM AS WIZARDS: DONGHYUCK AND JISUNG

a/n: this has been in my drafts for literally 3 years and since i don't think i'll finish it i figure i should post it anyways. hope u like it! happy halloween! 🧙🏼

DONGHYUCK

A little further away from the others, Donghyuck lives near the sea, where he draws the majority of his powers from. Contrary to popular tales of malevolent sea wizards, Donghyuck prides himself in being a good member of his community, making friends with the new fishermen that come to town and casting little spells to make sure they catch enough fish, and even looking after the neighborhood kids when no one else can, keeping them distracted and entertained for the afternoon by making the waters dance around them. Donghyuck likes to spend his free time taking walks on the water and swimming with his sea friends.

His favorite spells are cast mostly when he needs to relax; watching the sea waters turn every color from purple and pink to orange and yellow and observing as the sand moves in unison to build beautiful sandcastles by itself surely brings peace to his heart.

Donghyuck had never given much thought to familiars; he already had his friends under the sea and the friendship of the mortals; there was not much more he could imagine needing. But after he was approached by a different looking duck one day, he reconsidered his stance on practicing his magic alone. Since then, communicating with Duckie has been an essential part of his craft, guaranteeing him protection and guidance in his path.

His array of special items is bigger than most. He's got a brown and white seashell he uses to feel closer to the waters and communicate with them, and a few other smaller seashells he made a necklace with, for protection and prosperity. His collection of crystals is also notable; he uses them mostly for healing and reading, and sometimes charging them and making necklaces or bracelets for him and his friends to wear. His favorites are the moss agate and the moonstone. And lastly, but certainly not least, his favorite item of all is the trusty set of mauve tarot cards he got on a trip with friends.

JISUNG

Always sought when the rest of the boys have problems they can't solve themselves, Jisung has wisdom and talent way beyond his years. A master of both the astral arts and spirit works at only 19, Jisung distances himself from any sects, organized religions or covens, no matter how much they try to get his talents on their side. His craft has been passed down for generations, hence why he has studied his magic and forged his path since he was a little kid. Jisung specializes in mind-powered magic, such as lucid dreaming, vision work and, his favorite, astral projection. More often than not, he likes to escape reality in his own little way for a bit through the wonders of deep meditation.

Despite knowing a fair share of the most difficult mind spells, his favorite still remains a fairly simple one. While lying down on his bed, listening to his favorite music, he likes to see all the different pretty colors that come from the sounds dance on the ceiling. He feels at ease.

Jisung's family isn't that traditional, but they do hold some customs from their ancestors. That's why Jisung does not have a companion yet; but he's counting the days to his 21st birthday, when he'll meet the phoenix spirit that was promised to him the day he was born.

Black, leather bound, heavy and older than anyone can remember, Jisung's favorite item is very simple: his family's spell book. He remembers the day when he was granted permission to read the book's content for the first time, a day after his 10th birthday. To this day, hundreds of spells later and a lot more to be discovered, it remains his favorite artifact.

main masterlist | nct masterlist

#nct #nct dream #nct dream headcanons #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct headcanons #nct scenarios #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct fluff #haechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #hyuck #jisung #park jisung #mari.doc

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1025cherrystreet · 3 years

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order for me, please?

y/n is too anxious to order for herself at a restaurant, so harry does it for her.

disclaimer: did not proofread this, nor do i really like how i ended it. very much rushed, very much lost the plot i feel lmao. any feedback is appreciated!!!

warnings: talks about anxiety quite a lot, other than that just fluff. kinda short soz <3

Harry rubs soft circles into your side while you're cuddled into him on the couch. The light coming in from the window casts a yellow glow into the room, little rainbow beams decorate random spots in your living room from the glass.

You've been a bit anxious today. The worst part of it is that you have no clue as to why you've been so anxious. Nothing particularly stressful has occurred since you woke up, but your heart hasn't stopped racing, your breathing has been quite shaky, and your palms are clammy. Some days are just harder than others, you know this, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that it's still difficult to even get through the day sometimes.

Since the moment you woke up in Harry's warm clutch this morning, you felt off. That uncomfortable feeling in your tummy and the constricting nails that seem lodged in your throat were a not-so-warm welcome when you opened your eyes.

Having anxiety and knowing how hard it is for you, you know how hard it can be for the people around you as well. You felt guilty. You felt guilty because today was one of Harry's days off from work and he doesn't get many of them, always so busy. You didn't want to ruin what was supposed to be a good, relaxing, fun day.

But, when Harry wished you a good morning love, and you had opened your mouth to speak with glossy eyes, only to have the words get caught in your throat, he knew today wasn't a good one.

However, because Harry is such an amazing person and boyfriend, he knows how to go about handling your anxiety. He knows you. He knows that you just need a cuddle and a slow day with tea and a good meal. He knows when you start to get really worked up, you listen to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac because it reminds you of a sweet childhood memory. He knows you don't want to do much talking, but rather more watching TV. He knows you like to distract yourself on your bad days...and he knows how to do so.

So, after spending all morning and into the afternoon having tea and breakfast and taking your meds (along with a short cry), you're now cuddling on the couch mindlessly watching a movie. It's quiet in the house, the only sound coming from the television (and maybe your heart beating if Harry got close enough), but Harry swears you could be able to hear his thoughts from a mile away.

He worries about you sometimes. As does everyone who loves someone. He's never loved someone as much as he loves you and it scares him sometimes. He's not scared of falling out of love or deciding you guys aren't the best for each other, no. He's scared of not being enough for you. He knows you tell him that he's the love of your life and that he will always be enough for you, but a little part of him is scared that he might not be able to take care of you. Now, he's not saying in any way, shape, or form that he's not capable of taking care of you, because he can! He's just scared he might mess up and make your anxiety worse. He hates seeing you so out of it.

You're always the sunlight in every room, always smiling and so loving. You care so deeply for everyone around you, he admires it. He admires you. He loves you, so he hates that your mind can be mean to you at times.

See, his troubles with anxiety are far different from yours. Gratefully, his anxiety is more rational (still troubling, just more rational!) ... which is the complete opposite to yours. Your disorder is so irrational and crazy that, more often than not, you get so frustrated with yourself. Your brain makes up problems to be there that aren't there. You worry about nothing and everything all at once, feeling like you never get a break from the mental toll it has on you.

So with that, Harry hates seeing you so anxious. He knows you're so vulnerable and fragile in this state that he doesn't want to make anything worse for you, he wishes every day that he could just take all the worry and bad thoughts from your head and put them on himself instead, as long as it meant that you'd be your happy self again.

But, he knows that's not possible. He also knows that's it's okay to not be okay all the time, so he packs his wishes back into his brain and cuddles you closer. Hoping you can feel his love reverberate off every surface of this house to you.

Oddly enough, you almost feel as if you can. In your simultaneously busy yet silent mind, you can make out his affection in every circle he draws onto your skin with his fingertips, in every warm cup of tea he makes, and every sickly sweet kiss he presses onto your lips, forehead, and cheek. You know he loves you and you hope with everything that he knows you love him just as much, if not more.

With that thought running through your head, you turn to place a kiss to his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly (moth?) tattoo through his shirt. A content hum sounds from his lips and he squeezes you tighter before kissing the top of your head.

"I love you," He whispers, as if not to disturb the comfortable silence created in this space.

"I love you more," You whisper back, the tea earlier melting the nails in your throat just a little.

***

"Does Carrburritos sound good, lovie?" Harry asks, waiting on the edge of y'all's bed for you to finish getting ready.

Carrburritos is your favorite restaurant ever. Of course, you know that's why Harry chose it and the thought of him doing something as simple as that melts your heart at how sweet and thoughtful he is.

"Yeah, thank you, bubs." You respond softly, still in the fragile state you were in earlier, albeit definitely feeling better. You make your way to the edge of the bed where Harry is, slotting your body between his legs and bringing your hands up to play with the little curls on his neck.

"Alright, love. If you're ready to go, we can start to head over?" He asks, rubbing his big hands up and down along your sides.

You nod, leaning into kiss him. It's short, but your lips melt against his and no matter how many times you've kissed him, every single one still feels as magical as the first time.

The two of you get to the restaurant in 15 minutes time, settling at a table close to the window, in more of a quiet area. You feel better than you have all day, but the loud noises and the people in here are making your heart rate spike just a tad.

You and Harry talk softly about random topics, nothing about work or anything too heavy because you don't think you're able to handle that right now. You giggle at the jokes Harry will slip in ever so often and his face lights up at the sound, loving that he can make you feel comfortable after having such a hard day.

When the waitress comes by to get your drink orders, your leg starts bouncing a mile a minute under the table. You rehearse the five words just a sweet tea, please, over and over in your head for when she gets to you. Somehow, you manage to squeak out the order, avoiding eye contact as a nervous habit, but now that you realize you're doing it, the fear of coming across as rude now terrorized your mind. But, before you could do anything about it, the waitress walks away.

"You okay, baby?" Harry can sense your nerves, practically seeing them coming off of you. He reaches his hand across the table to hold yours, rubbing his thumb along your hand.

You just nod, trying to calm yourself. You're being so silly, you think to yourself. What? You're really about to cry because you forgot you have to talk to the waitress to order your food? It's a small encounter, you don't understand why your head makes it such a difficult task. You start to get frustrated with yourself, almost bringing tears to your eyes.

"Hey, tell me what you need, darling?" Harry coos, ducking his head to get in your line of sight since you've been stuck staring at the table top for the past few minutes.

You clear your throat in hopes to push down the tears and diminish the scratching feeling in your throat, although, it didn't do much.

"C-can you..." You huff, now frustrated that you can't even speak, "can you please order for me?" You glance at him, but not holding your gaze long before looking out the window at passing cars. You feel so stupid asking him to order for you. For fucks sake, you're not a child. And you can't tell if it's worse or better that you know he's going to have no problem ordering for you (or doing anything for you, for that matter). He'd do anything for you in a heartbeat.

A soft, loving smile pulls on his lips before he speaks.

"Of course, my sweet girl. It's no problem at all, you want what you normally get?" He asks and you offer a gentle nod.

If he's being honest, he actually likes you depending on him like this sometimes. Not to say that you need him to do everything for you, because you're more than capable, he would like to add! But, knowing that you're comfortable and trust him enough to be so open with him and ask him to do certain things for you makes him feel so...valuable? Maybe that's not the right word he'd like to use, but he just loves that he can do something for you to make your life easier. Your joy brings him joy.

When the waitress comes back, Harry orders for the both of you. Your heart could explode with the amount of adoration you have for the man sitting across from you. He just... gets it. He gets you.

So, with full bellies and calmed nerves, the two of you make your way back home and get settled in y'all's bed to cuddle for the rest of the night. Sprinkled thank you's and sweet kisses are shared while the two of you share warmth under the dozens of blankets adorning the bed.

"I'm sorry I wasted your day off, H." You whisper out into the air.

Pressing a peck to your shoulder, Harry tugs you to turn so you're facing him. He shakes his head, "Y/N, you didn't waste my day. Always perfect with you." His big hands squeezing lovingly at your waist as if he's trying to transfer his love for you to you.

"Look at me," He says when he catches your eyes cast down at his tattooed chest. "You will never, ever, be a burden, lovie. I know y'feel like you're botherin' me, or everyone, by jus'existing, but you've got it all wrong. Baby, I hate seeing you so anxious, and I know you can't control it, but tha's not gonna stop me from doin' everythin' I can to make you comfortable...and loved."

Your face breaks out in, probably, the biggest grin you've had all day at his assurance.

"I always feel comfortable and loved with you, H."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #hshq #hs #harry #y/n #fluff #fine line #hs1 #anxiety #writing #1025cherrystreet #fanfic #fanfiction

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cafeacademia · 3 years

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Guardian | Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter Summary: After months of no contact with your soulmate, you begin to finally act on your suspicions, only to learn a difficult truth about your close friend, Draco.

Warnings: Sadness, some fluff, mention of abusive environments (Draco being involved with his father, Voldy and death eaters).

Word count: Approx 3200

Masterlist

NOTE: This story is following a slightly altered AU, in which Fred and George are still at school and Harry does not go for Draco after Katie Bell’s possession.

A/N: Hi loves! Here’s the next chapter! I did struggle a little with this one, but I’m really happy with it. I hope you enjoy this part and I promise there is some fluff coming for these two soon, enjoy! 💖

Flashbacks are separated using *** and use of the soulmate book is highlighted in italics

Previous Part | Next Part

Was it ever enough? The spilled ink, the black stained fingertips having spent hours writing with a quill. The way the pages crinkled under the heavy use, words that did not spell out a work of fiction, but that of the tale of two souls meant to be.

Was it enough to bring back what was lost by writing to him often? You couldn't know, but all you could do was try.

It was well beyond the start of your first term in your sixth year and as the leaves fell and the seasons changed, the forest surrounding the grounds with deep red and orange hues, you wondered where he could have gone, what had happened to him?

But as you wandered through the grounds, the clouds drew in, bringing a sudden downpour with them. Being quite far from the castle, the closest spot for shelter in the heavy rain was the owlery and quickly, you tugged your jacket over your head and sprinted across the wet grass towards the stone tower.

Taking care not to slip on the steps on your way up, you heaved out a sigh when you finally got yourself through the doorway. It wasn’t much warmer in the enclosed space, but it was at least dry.

It was a particularly odd Sunday, the weather had been changing all day, though you knew as winter drew in that this time of year was often very rainy and ever changing, just like autumn itself.

Backing further into the owlery, you shivered, trying to warm yourself up a little bit, but as the strong winds blew across the grounds and swept through the openings between the stones in the owlery walls, you chilled even more.

Suddenly, without even a whisper, having seemingly appeared out of no where, You felt something being draped around your shoulders and you jumped, looking over your shoulder to see yourself face to face with a Slytherin. “Draco?” It came out as a gasp. All he could do was meet your gaze with the cold blue hues of his eyes, barely managing a small smile, one that did not reach his eyes, one that appeared forced and perhaps even painful. His eyes were deep with the weight of his emotions, things he wish he could tell someone, but he had to keep them locked away as far down in himself as he could.

The ashen haired boy had barely even looked at you since the end of the last school year and a few weeks after your return to Hogwarts, it was increasingly obvious that he didn’t want to be around you.

“Harry is under the impression Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater.” Hermione had said it as if even she herself could not believe it to be true and you weren’t sure if you were lucky, or terribly placed at the wrong place at the wrong time to hear something that, despite your better judgement, caused your heart to ache.

What had he been pulled into? You couldn’t know for certain, but even now as you looked up at him and met his soft gaze, you knew that whatever he was taking part in was not through choice.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly, pulling the jacket he had draped over your shoulders around you a little more, only receiving a small nod from him. “Draco.” You reached out for him, your hand catching his wrist before he had a chance to turn away from you. And for a moment, Draco allowed himself to be touched, he allowed himself to feel the warmth of your gentle touch, but as he met your eyes, he slowly slipped his wrist out of your grasp and took a step back. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” He said, attempting a smile before ducking out of the doorway and disappearing down the steps into the heavy downpour.

Your heart ached at the way he had pulled away, at the deep regret he had held in his eyes as he had turned away from you. Pulling his coat around you even more, you were thankful at least, that returning his coat to him would allow you a moment to speak to him soon and you hoped you could get a moment alone with your friend soon.

Having made your way back to the castle after a ten minute wait for the downpour of cease, you headed back up to your dormitory to dry off and warm up. And as you perched on your bed with a blanket wrapped around yourself, you sighed, leaning down to gently take the small leather bound book out of the top of your school bag. Flicking through the pages, you turned to the last one that had been written on, only your handwriting occupying the crinkled, slightly yellowed paper and you sighed, your eyes landing on the words you had last written to him, drawing in a breath to speak them out loud. “Where are you?”

Draco hated it. He hated that every time he closed his eyes, all he saw, all he heard were things that haunted him. It was as if his mind could not truly allow him to rest, not without being reminded what dreadful things were happening and what were to come. But it was the worst when what he saw when he closed his eyes was the way his father had snatched the book from him, his voice full of opportunity.

***

“Do you know who this soulmate of yours is, Draco?” Lucius had asked. “No, father.” Draco lied, keeping his features neutral, his eyes passing over the book that was clutched in his father’s strong grip. Lucius cast a lingering stare at his son, judgement in his eyes as he considered his answer.

Draco knew he could not give away that he did, in fact know who his soulmate was, because surely someone might want to use you against him and he certainly did not put it past those around him to do so. Even if his father were to not use that information, he was sure someone else might, especially as motivation to carry out tasks. He knew already that anyone knowing about his soulmate even existing was bad enough, because even without knowing who you were, people could still use it as leverage. “Now, now, don’t look so miserable. You may have this back once you’ve tended to your duties.” Lucius had told him.

***

Draco looking down, pulling up his shirt sleeve to look at the image of the dark mark imprinted in his skin. Following the curve of the snake as it trailed over the veins in his wrist, Draco felt sick to his stomach. His eyes glanced up to land on the book. It was scratched up, dented and damaged, the golden gilding worn and scuffed off some of the edges, one of the metal corner protectors had gone missing and a few of the gold painted page edges were folded and ripped. It made his heart ache. It made Draco feel a uncontrollable, seething anger, a want to cry and scream and protect what was his with everything he had. But he could not.

They had all ridiculed him, used the book as a way to force him closer to the same lifestyle that they followed and Draco hated it. He resented everything they had used his book to make him do. Because it wasn’t just a book they were using, they had used you. And even though the book was now back in his possession after being confiscated more than once, thrown about and damaged on purpose to taunt him, despite the fact that he now held it as close to him as possible, he refused to use it.

What if someone were take his memories and view them? What if someone found out what he talked about? Or more importantly who he talked to. But with each passing day, his eyes landing on the old, tattered book, simultaneously a symbol of both hope and pain, Draco longer to open the cover and read the contents.

His aunt Bellatrix had tried to force him to read it out, but as if the book had known what was happening to both him and itself, it appeared blank no matter what they did, no matter how they tried to strip it of it’s concealment charms. Draco just could not bring himself to read your words, to see what you might have written in his absence, to see what his silence might have done.

“Soulmates? You can’t be serious, that’s all a bunch of old fairy tales.” Ron brushed it off. “Don’t be ridiculous Ronald.” Hermione sighed, about to curb his argument. “It’s not!” Neville suddenly burst into the argument, having seen you looking rather out of depth from the reaction you’d gotten from Ron. “My parents are soulmates too.” Neville said in a softer tone that time, giving you a kind smile as he looked across at you.

“With a book too?” You asked, now intrigued while Ron gave you both a look of confusion, having genuinely thought you had been pulling his leg when Fred and George had pestered it out of you. “No, they can hear each other’s thoughts.” Neville explained. “Do you know who yours is?” Harry asked, leaning over in his seat to join the conversation. “I can’t be sure, but I have a couple of theories.” You replied, leaning forwards and resting your chin on your hand. “Well, who is it then?” Fred asked with a big grin on his face at the idea of some brilliant gossip. “None of you would believe me even if I told you.”

“I would.” Luna smiled sweetly at you as she approached the bench, Neville almost immediately shuffling up and accidentally bumping George a little to give her some space to sit between you and him. “I believe in soulmates too, they are fascinating, don’t you think?” She asked. ”I just wish mine would talk to me again, he’s been quiet for months.” You sighed as Ron, Hermione and Ginny began to discuss something else with the twins. “You really don’t know who it is?” Luna asked. “My grandmother told me that soulmates are often much closer than you expect them to be, maybe there’s someone hiding in plain sight, waiting for you to realise that it’s them.” She told you, giving you a sweet little smile before she turned away to talk to Neville.

Perhaps Luna was right and perhaps, despite feeling a bit silly for thinking it might be someone you already knew, she was right and if your soulmate, whoever he really was, was very much absent and maybe it was time to really find out for sure.

Ron had suggested the use of Felix Felicis, but it felt wrong to use a potion in an attempt to cheat your way into knowing who your soulmate was, but as the weeks passed and you left the falling leaves behind, along with the events that took place and had shaken everyone who had seen Katie Bell tragically possessed, you began to wonder if the idea wasn’t so bad after all. The year seemed more bleak as time passed and even as you passed into spring, it felt as if the tension in the castle was ready to snap at any moment.

Despite the tempting idea of brewing liquid luck and using it to find him, another part of you was reluctant, not because you felt it was wrong or like it was cheating at something you obviously should see through to the end, but because you had a feeling you already knew who it was.

But just as you feared his sudden coldness being the only worry and the fact that you had not found a single moment in which Draco would take his coat back from you from months ago, you feared the reasons he might not be speaking to you at all. Why was he so cold to you? The chill hurt. Walking into the great hall, the chatter between the trio as you passed them seemed to only be of one thing and it shook you as deeply as it had everyone else who had witnessed it. The horrifying way she had moved in such an unnatural way, how she had contorted and her face had been taken over by something terrible. Katie Bell’s possession.

“It was Malfoy, I’m sure of it.” Harry was adamant and the conviction in his voice was enough to chill everyone in earshot. And when you had swept passed the trio, looking for a seat elsewhere, you turned to see Draco standing in the middle of the hall, his face riddled with regret, shame and something that swam deep in his eyes as he looked at you. He held your gaze for a moment, your movements still as you stood in front of a bench, your eyes not leaving his. It was as if he was silently pleading you, as if he was asking you to help him, reaching out for something, for someone.

But just as you slowly moved a step in his direction, he turned and fled, Harry leaping up from his seat, but being yanked back by Hermione as you rushed after the Slytherin.

You tried to keep up with his quick pace, Draco weaving around corners and slipping through half open doors so quickly that if you hadn’t been paying enough attention, you might have lost him.

Finally, you rounded the doorway into the bathroom, seeing Draco hunched over a sink, his hair messed up and out of place, sobs shaking his body as he tried to wash the pain away with water.

“Draco,” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to startle him and he turned to look at you with fear in his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. Your heart broke, your throat clenching tight at the sight of him in such a state. “I had to do it.” He sobbed, backing against the wall and sliding down onto the cold stone below. “He made me do it.”

Slowly, you crossed the bathroom, carefully kneeling down in front of him and reaching out, tentatively at first to brush his hair from his face. “I tried so hard to protect-.” He stopped himself, a sob interrupting mid sentence and Draco heaved for breath as he reached for you. And just as he had done for you, when he had held you so many times when you felt nothing but pain and hurt and everything in between, you held him in your arms too. The beating of your heart soothed him as he cried against your shoulder, his hands holding you with a weak grip and slowly, his sobs softened as you held him tightly, softly stroking his hair.

“He made me do it.” Draco repeated, parting from you for a moment, pulling his sleeve up to show you, but he would not meet your eyes. The dark mark was like binding seal on his wrist, one that bound him to a life he did not want and you knew that the Draco his father was trying to make him be, was not the Draco you knew.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, pulling him back against you and hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Draco.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes, seeing someone you cared so deeply for, someone who you had secretly bonded with for years was being torn apart and put back together as someone he was not meant to be and you hated to see it happen.

“I can’t be around you, I can’t look at you, he’ll know.” Draco whispered, hugging you tightly around the middle. “You don’t deserve this pain, you deserve something more, something better.” You told him. Draco didn’t feel like he did, he didn’t feel like he deserved anything better and he certainly didn’t feel like he deserved you either.

“I’m sorry.” Draco cried, pulling away and wiping harshly at his tears. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.” He said, moving to get up, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could go. “Then talk to me by paper and quill. Like we used to.” You told him, and while your words could have implied your little notes during class or the letters during the summer, both of you knew what that had really meant. “Okay.” He nodded, trying to move away again, but you stopped him once more.

“Hold on, take this.” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks, sniffling as you reached into your robe pocket to pull out the beautiful green handkerchief he had given you three years prior. “You still have it.” He whispered. “Of course.” You nodded, reaching up to wipe your tears away. “I can’t take it, love. You keep it.” Draco said, gently using his fingers to close your own around the handkerchief and pushing it back against your chest.

“I still have your coat.” You added as you felt his touch linger on your hand. “You’ll keep it safe for me, won’t you?” He asked. “Of course.” You nodded. “Why, are you going somewhere?” You asked. Draco paused, almost daring himself to look up at you, to meet your eyes one last time, but he resisted and sighed. “It might be a while before you see me again.” He told you, gently trailing his fingertips over the back of your hand. “But… I will see you again, won’t I?” You asked. “I promise, we will.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.” Draco whispered, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before he left you alone in the bathroom, walking away to prepare to carry out his biggest and most dreaded task. And he wondered as he descended into the dungeons, how you could ever love him after he had performed the things he must do.

But Draco had been right, because only months later, with no communication with each other aside from the odd glance here and there, he disappeared completely.

Promise me, you will not come looking for me. It was scrawled quickly onto a page and for the first time in nearly a year, you saw his writing join yours again on the paper of your book. You sighed as you read those words, sitting in your dormitory amidst the horrible realisation of what had taken place, that death eaters had killed Albus Dumbledore.

Leaping up from your bed, you grabbed a quill from your bag and opened the inkwell at your desk before writing your reply. I promise, but you must promise to find me when it’s safe. You wrote back.

Minutes passed and not a single drop of ink came through. Minutes turned into hours and while you thought he might not write back at all, you cast a quick glance at the page before you finally decided to try and sleep to see his words amongst yours again.

I promise.

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lundya366 · 3 years

Text

Until The End Of Time (And Then Some) | Charlie Gillespie x Black!Reader

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2235

Warnings: None that I can think of (let me know if I should add some)

Summary: Sometimes love is a lazy river that makes your heart swell, and sometimes it’s a waterfall that makes your heart pound. A cute and fluffy one shot about a quiet night in the Gillespie household.

A/N: So this is the first fic that I’ve ever written, but I like how it turned out so I wanted to share plus I haven’t seen a lot of Charlie with a Black!Reader and I wanted to see more of that. I would love you all’s feedback and would love to know if you enjoyed it!

As Netflix is about to autoplay the next episode of your show, you click pause. You stand from the couch and straighten up your leggings and pull down the t-shirt that you borrowed from Charlie’s drawer. Walking around the house you duck your head into the rooms and call for Charlie to see where he is.

“In here,” you hear from the room he claimed as his “music and masterpieces” room (his words, not yours).

You walk in to see his back facing you with just a sliver of his face in your view. You look around the room and take in the yellow walls and tan carpeting, the posters and stickers littering both the walls and the floor, the instruments propped up around the room, and the small messy desk in the corner with Charlie’s laptop set in the middle and make a mental note to help Charlie straighten things up tomorrow. You take one last look at the yellow walls and smile (he painted the walls yellow because it’s a happy color and writing music is a happy thing).

Your attention turns back to your husband who is sitting in the middle of the room on a stool. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and he has on sweatpants and a cutoff tee, but this one is older, so it showed quite a bit more of his chest and back than usual. It was originally an oversized t-shirt you got him very early in your relationship as a joke. Across the front read “Black Queen” with the silhouette of a black woman wearing an afro. You had bought it the day after a calm discussion (cough cough heated debate cough cough) about what clothes he could pull off and you were so sure he couldn’t make this work. He picked you up from work the next day and had cut off the sleeves and put the words “I’m dating a” across the top and you laughed for a full five minutes before you were able to utter a sentence to him.

(He felt like a genius for that one and you couldn’t necessarily disagree.)

You shake your head to remove the memory from mind and focus on your husband yet again. He’s strumming the same chords on the guitar and as you step closer you can see the frustration starting to creep into his face. Your hands rest lightly on his shoulders and you can feel the slightest tension leave them at your touch.

“What’s not working out?” you question knowing his frustration comes from the song not coming together like he wanted.

“It’s just not working. None of it is. I’ve been here for hours and I finally got the melody, but every lyric I write sucks. And honestly, I kinda hate the melody now too.” He leans forward to set the guitar back onto the stand before settling back onto the stool, still facing away from you.

As he closes the journal he was using to write notes and drops it to the floor, you notice all of the scratching out he’s done. You frown at his harsh criticism of himself and start to massage his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him.

“Well why don’t you take a break for today and pick up where you left off tomorrow. Maybe you just need to see and hear everything with a fresh set of eyes and ears.”

“No no no, I can’t,” he responded, “I’m meeting up with everyone in the morning and I really wanted to have everything done for them.”

Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you think back to the conversation you had with Charlie earlier. You could’ve sworn he said they were supposed to work on and hopefully finish the songs tomorrow.

“Oh, I thought you all were having a writing session? I didn’t know you had to finish everything tonight. Maybe I can make you a snack to help get your juices flowing then?”

You take the scrunchie (your satin scrunchie that he stole actually) from his hair and start to run your fingers through it, starting to get rid of the knots he didn’t brush out before he started writing.

“We are having a writing session; I just don’t want to disappoint them you know?” He took a deep breath as his eyes closed and his head tilted back into your touch. He hummed in contentment as your hands worked through his hair and massaged his scalp.

“Babe,” you start “you can’t be so hard on yourself okay? They’re not gonna be disappointed. You guys’ best songs happen when you all come together. Remember Youth?”

A smile took over his face as Charlie remembered the rambunctious night the song came into existence. Everyone had come over to hang out at yours and Charlie’s house to watch movies and play games and somehow everyone ended up cramped into the small music room strumming guitars, making beats, writing lyrics and throwing out ideas. Even you, Carolynn, and Owen’s fiancée threw in a couple of suggestions.

“Maybe you’re right.” Charlie said softly, his body relaxed because of your head massage.

“You know I am.” You replied back. You start to comb Charlies hair back up into a ponytail and pull it through the scrunchie and back into a bun before settling your hands back on his shoulders.

“Or maybe I’m right but I’m just tired and don’t feel like arguing with your logic, that kinda maybe makes sense?” He threw back.

You lean down to kiss his hair before wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hug him from behind.

“Mmm yeah okay. I’ll let you think that’s the case, sweetheart,” you whisper in his ear.

You start to pull back from him and plan on heading back to the living room, but before you can remove your arms from around him fully, he grabs onto your left arm. He pulls you around so you’re now standing in front of him, towering over him for once.

(You’ll admit, “towering over him” may have been hyperbolic, but how often is it that you have this height advantage over him.)

He doesn’t say anything yet, just looks up at you. You can see that his eyes trace your features, and a small smile graces his lips (not that you’re staring or anything). He takes in your pretty dark skin and thinks of how amazing the setting sun looked against it. He thinks you shine like an angel, with your coily hair as your halo and the sun as your wings. His eyes focus on your chin that he teased you about for the occasional hair or two that made their escape.

(No worries, one quip about how you at least have hair on your chin zipped his lips real quick.)

He takes in your full lips with just a touch of lip gloss still left on them, from your earlier trip to the store. He could kiss them all day and never tire. His smile grows as he gets to your nose. Your teddy bear nose as he calls it because “it looks just like the cute little noses on the Valentine’s teddy bears!” to which you roll your eyes at because in no way is your nose “little” (it’s pretty wide to be quite honest) and in no way does it look like the ones the cute teddy bears have.

(You still smile when he says it though, but you definitely don’t get flustered over it. Nope, never.)

He looks at your cheeks, your high cheekbones on display due to the smile on your lips. Secretly, it’s one of his favorite things about you, they seem to just add to the joy you radiate.

And finally, he meets your eyes, of which many arguments have come about. Whose eyes are prettiest to be specific. He says your eyes remind him of the sweetness of a Reese’s peanut butter cup, the richness of coffee, the friendliness of a puppy, and the beauty of a thousand sunsets on the beach. You always say his eyes remind you of the excitement of life, the hope of a new beginning, and a love that burns like a thousand suns.

(You guys always ended up agreeing to disagree.)

Finally, his smile grew to its full size and his eyes squinted to make room and you’re sure your expression matched. His smile never failed to bring a smile to your face. His ability to experience pure unbridled joy, unmarred and unburdened by the world, reminded you of the joy that children are able to indulge in. Fully and without obstacle.

Your heart starts to beat faster, and you feel flutters all over and suddenly you feel shy from his gaze and overwhelmed with love, all at once. His hands wrap around your waist as he pulls you to stand between his legs. Your arms move to drape across his shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

Everyday you wake up thankful that you’ve never had to doubt how much Charlie loves you. His words and actions more than speak for themselves. And every day you’re thankful you don’t even have to think about whether you’ll be able to say “I love you” back. It’s instinct at this point. One you hope you’ll never have to unlearn.

He pulls you into a hug as he rests his head against your chest, and you rest yours on his head. Charlie begins to hum a song and after recognizing it as I See the Light from the movie Tangled, you join him. It was the song playing when he proposed, but that’s a story for another day. You don’t know how long passes before you pull back just enough to be able to see his face.

“Wanna watch something with me?” And just like that his smile returns full force.

“So that was your plan all along wasn’t it? Play with my hair to make me lose focus, butter me up with your sweet words, just so you didn’t have to watch a show by yourself, huh?” He said even as he stood from the stool to head to the living room with you.

“Charlie Gillespie, I’d never do such a thing. I played with your hair and buttered you up so you could watch a MOVIE with me, not a show. There’s a difference,” you said giggling at the pout on his face.

Your giggles turn to full on laughs as he scoops you up bridal style and alternates between littering your neck and face with kisses and blowing (very wet) raspberries wherever he could reach.

“Charlie!” you yelled between laughs. “Stop! That tickles! And you’re gonna drop me!”

“Say the magic word!” He yelled back, still not stopping his kisses and raspberries.

“Please!” You squirmed trying to get out of his grasp.

“Wrong magic word!” He said as his range expanded to down your chest, up to your hair, and honestly anywhere his lips could reach.

“How can there be a wrong magic word?! There’s only one universal magic word! You’re making up rules!” You laughed back at him, still squirming in his grasp.

“I’ll give you a hint, it’s food related.” He replied to you through laughs, kisses, and raspberries.

“Umm...” you said, still distracted by his mouth “peanut butter, whipped cream, ice cream, nachos, waffles, burgers?” Honestly, you were just listing his favorite foods and hoping one was right.

“Ding ding ding ding ding! You got it! The correct answer was waffles!” he yelled dramatically in a TV show host voice.

His mouth finally stopped roaming your body, but he didn’t set you down. Instead, he carries all the way to the living room (stopping at the light switch so you could flick it off) before setting you down on the couch. He let you sit up against the arm of the couch before you reached your arms out for him, his invitation to join you. He grabs the remote off the table and hands it to you before he settles between your legs. You click a button on the remote to wake up the TV about to start scrolling through for a movie. You kiss the top of his head, which in turn causes him to turn his head toward you as a way of asking for a proper kiss. You oblige him (more than once, maybe more than twice. Let’s just say you had you to wake the TV up again when you guys finally refocused on choosing a movie). You both finally settle back into a comfortable position before discussing what movie you were going to watch.

As Charlie went on about a scary movie trying to convince you that it was a great idea to watch it (at night, you don’t think so) you once again felt that surge of overwhelming love and adoration for him. Whenever that happened it always felt like your heart soared, your mind cleared, and all you could feel was joy and a love that couldn’t be put into words. A love unmatched by any you thought you had felt in the past. And as you gave in and clicked the scary movie Charlie was raving about, you hoped that feeling lasted until the end of time and then some.

#jatp #jatp cast #jatp fanfic #jatp imagine #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x black!reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #black reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms cast

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Pretending

@genevievedarcygranger and I are dorks so here is my take on the thing we did together

Fingers stretch up past his throat, a thick arm pushing at the walls of his esophagus. Stretching it until his head is pushed back, lips parting to breathe around the obstruction. The fingers find his brain, wiggling and tearing through the dura mater as if it’s nothing more than jello. His thoughts shift sluggishly to when Jack was just a baby. The beaming sun against his back as he held his son on one knee, watching in horror as Jack smacked and tore through the cake in front of him with chubby grabbing fingers. He can feel those fingers cupping at his brain, making his knees weak and his body light. Aired out thoughts as nothing lays between his mouth and his thoughts. As if he could float away.

“Daddy?”

Leaning forward on the bench, Hotch presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Post Traumatic Stress, he’s sure Reid would identify easily enough, is crippling him right where he stands. In every little thing that he does. He’d just stepped outside for a book in the yard he left on the chair after watching Jack swing and been hit with such intense panic he’d fallen down into the grass. Couldn’t think or move. Jack had found him hunched over himself pressing his forehead into the warm ground, trying to think past the feeling of his paralyzed lungs.

The park had been their compromise - Jack lives in intervals and the park is a fantastic compromise to easily forget what he’s seen.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, clenching his jaw and focusing on the burn of the sun against his back. It takes an excruciating amount of energy but he lifts his head back up. Settles an unsteady smile and red-rimmed eyes on his son. With a hand that tremors, he cups Jack’s cheek. “What is it, buddy? Want help going across the monkey bars again?”

Jack frowns at him - a face Haley used to love. She’d laugh until she cried, always assuring him that he makes the exact same face. And despite the fact that he’s supposed to be making sure Jack has a normal childhood he’s crying in the park. Thinking about when Jack was so small he fit in the crook of Hotch’s elbow. Flailing asleep in the nursery counting Jack’s little breathes, terrified of what would happen if he walked away. Haley sitting in his lap, the two of them watching the boy they brought into the world together. How Haley had warned him he was going to blink and find he’d lost everything and now he’s sitting on a park bench having taken it all from her.

“Sorry,” Hotch rasps. He rubs his eyes, clearing his throat and forcing his body upright more. “Sorry,” he repeats. “Monkey bars?” He pushes himself up onto his feet, smiling as he offers Jack his hand. Waiting for the boy to grow distracted again by the overwhelming amount of options of things to climb on.

Jack looks over his shoulder to the monkey bars, envy burning his chest as he watches a girl older than him make her way across them. “Yes please,” he chirps, his small fingers wrapping around Hotch’s calloused ones. He beams up at his father, seeing only the man that takes him to the park and cuts his sandwiches into shapes that vaguely resemble dinosaurs. Past the sadness and how tired he is. “One day,” Jack says, pouring his concentration into jumping over the raised edge of the playground. He holds Hotch’s hand a little tighter, giggling when Hotch pulls him up even higher. He lands with a grunt and grins back at Hotch. “One day,” he continues, “I’m gonna be big and strong and --” Jack trips over his feet as he eagerly tears off for the monkey bars. He manages to stay upright. “One day I’m gonna be all growned up, just like you! And then I’m not gonna need no help!”

Hotch nods, following at a slower pace. Between the heat and sweater he’d chosen to wear (to cover the bruises still purpling and angry up his arms) he’s hot and the weakness of his body from too little sleep is draining him rapidly. He knows making it back to the car - a distance of only a few yards - will leave him light-headed and vision hazing. His body aches needs sleep and rest but he has to take care of a four-year-old and both of those things are nearly impossible.

“I wanna be as tall as you!” Jack says, pulling himself up on one of the bars. “Do you think I can?” Jack asks as Hotch ducks down into the contraption. “Mommy said I could,” Jack informs him. “She said I’d be just like you!” He beams at Hotch as he says this, thrilled by the idea of being just like his father. Tall and strong and nice and funny.

Hotch nods.

“But your hair is the wrong color,” Jack pouts.

Hotch smiles, genuinely, at that.

Jack doesn’t understand the amusement and frowns. “Why isn’t your hair yellow?”

Hotch bends down and picks Jack up, holding him around his hips so that Jack can reach up and grab onto the bars above his head. It makes his ribs flare up but he doesn't pay the pain any mind, it won’t stop him. “My mom and dad had dark hair. You have mommy’s hair,” Hotch says. Haley promised this constant talking phase would eventually wear off but Jessica’s theory was that it was just Jack’s way of making up for the “creepy” way Haley and Hotch never seemed to have to have verbal conversations. Haley just rolled her eyes and repeated her earlier promise - little kids just like to talk your ear off, he’d stop with age.

Hotch hopes he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you have mommy’s hair?”

Hotch smirks, “it doesn’t work like that, buddy.” They get to the end and Jack kicks his legs. “Want to drop down?” Jack makes a panicked sound, clearly not liking that idea. One of his hands leaves the bars and grabs Hotch’s wrist so that Hotch can’t let go. “Alright,” Hotch relents. “Do you wanna go again?”

“Yeah!” Jack just let's go, trusting Hotch will catch him. “Just one more time, though. Cause then I’m gonna go down the slide.”

“Alrighty.”

They begin again. Jack is light but Hotch’s ribs scream from having his arms raised up. The bones of his hand groaning as pressure is placed on them. It makes him light-headed, the sharp pain and the dull swelter of the heat. He steps forward, knee buckling, but he keeps both hands on Jack - the boy doesn’t notice.

“Good job,” Hotch praises, voiced rasped as Jack finishes. He lets Jack turn and settle down into his arms, pulled in against his side. Jack pulls both his hands down, showing his father the red patches of irritated skin. “Does it hurt?” Hotch asks. His thumb is nearly the size of Jack’s palm as he presses over the hurt. “That’s how you get callouses,” Hotch mumbles lowly, smirking at Jack’s surprise.

Jack forgets the pain in an instant. “You promise?”

Hotch hums his confirmation and Jack eagerly squirms at the idea. Hotch sets him down on his feet and Jack jumps up excitedly. “Daddy,” Jack calls, turning around and tearing off in the direction of the other equipment. “I’m gonna go to the slide!” Jack pays him no more mind and with a sigh, Hotch leans into the metal bar to his left. Knees shaking and head spinning.

He pushes himself upright, glancing at Jack out of the corner of his eye. He’s in the clear, he knows, but he’s still careful. Makes sure to keep his gait even and strong as he clears the space between monkey bars and the rest of the playground to the bench screaming his name.

“Daddy!” Jack yells from the top of the slide, waving.

Hotch stops and waves back, waiting for Jack to get distracted again before forcing himself forward. He sinks, bone-tired, back onto the bench. Scared that if he’s upright for another moment he’ll pass out. His vision swarms and dips with the heat around him, logged by his exhaustion.

He feels something splash on his pants and at first, he ignores it as just a ghost sensation. They happen and he’s anxious and uncomfortable enough he’s sure his body is just playing all kinds of cruel jokes at his expense. When isn’t it? It happens again a few minutes later but it’s not the same feeling. He looks down and he sees blood-- not just a stain that happens to be red, he sees blood far too often to mistake it for anything else-- and glances over to his left to locate Jack. The boy is obviously to him, shouting happily as he shoots down the slide. He lifts his hips enough to work his hand into his pocket to the handkerchief nearly all his pants carry. He presses the material to his nose, faking to just wipe it in case either of Jack looks over.

His nose is bleeding.

Back when he worked in Seattle, he’d seen a guy get shot in the leg. The bullet nicked an artery and he’d seen that bright blood, the way it gushed so quickly it was hard to put pressure over the flow. Frozen in fear, he’d never seen anything like that. Sitting here on this bench he looks down at the bright blood and gets lost. Frozen once again.

“Daddy!”

Hotch swallows thickly, grimacing at the taste of the blood that’s slid down the back of his throat. He clamps his hand over his nose, still smiling despite the fact that Jack can’t see it. “Hey-” Tears swell in Jack’s eyes as he sees the blood. “I’m okay,” Hotch assures. “It’s just a little blood, buddy.”

Jack whines softly, clearly not convinced. “Daddy, I wanna go home.” He tugs at Hotch’s sleeve. “Can we call Aunt Jess now,” Jack asks, anxiously. He worries the fabric of Hotch’s pants between his fingers, shifting as he waits for a reply.

He wants to assure Jack that they can stay a little longer but he sees the tears pouring down Jack’s face and Hotch nods. He leans to the side, digging his phone out of his pocket. It’s probably not his most coherent text but he manages to put together a few words - the letters all a blur - and it takes only a moment for her to respond. She’s on her way. He sags forward, head falling into his hand. “I’m sorry Jack.” He feels Jack’s hand come up to rest against his cheek, his warm palm sliding until Jack is hugging him. Even if he has to stand up on his toes.

Jack squeezing his neck. “It’s okay,” Jack assures him. “Me ‘n Jess are gonna get you a bandaid and a popsicle and then you’re gonna be all better.” Jack doesn’t let go. “It’s gonna be okay, right Daddy?”

Jack’s conviction is so strong that Hotch doesn’t bother explaining that he can’t put a bandaid over his nose and that it’s going to take more than a popsicle to fix this mess he’s created. But for now, he’ll let Jack hold onto him and “help” him walk to the car. He’ll let Jessica smother him with her worry and take it in stride because it’s important Jack understands getting help is just a part of life - even if each time Jessica touches him his stomach will roll.

He’ll choke down enough of his dinner to assure everyone he’s fine.

And, with any luck, he’ll manage to pretend his way into truly being okay.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s gonna be okay.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner

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thishintoflove · 3 years

Text

“Wildest Dreams” - A Prospect (2018) Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 2

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Warnings: 18 + Explicit (Language, Sex Pollen, P/V sex, Unprotected sex, Outdoor sex), 2.2k words of smutty forest sex

A/N: Did I really just want an excuse to write a sex pollen fic? Yes, I did. Also Ezra strikes me as a guy who’d be into outdoor sex even without an extra aphrodisiac.

You’ve always loved the forest. When you’re out among the trees, watching the light spread across the forest floor in patterns of green and gold, there really isn’t anywhere else you’d rather be. This planet is filled with oxygen so there’s no need for a helmet, which means you can enjoy this peaceful wood with all five of your senses. You close your eyes every now and then, drifting along on the smells of the warm air and the sounds of native birds calling to each other between the leaves.

“Hey! Come on, Birdie, I hired you to be my guide, not daydream and get us lost.”

Ezra’s deep drawl cuts through the forest and interrupts your peace. The man has paused his endless pursuit long enough to stare back at you with an annoyed look.

“We’re on track, Ezra, just keep heading southwest. I’m right behind you.”

You’re a field researcher who was recently let go by your university, so you’re currently traveling between worlds as an independent contractor trying to make some money. That’s how you found yourself wandering through the vast woods of this backwater planet with a gruff gem prospector. It was your job to analyze the topographical maps, plot the route, and keep Ezra away from the dangers of the natural world as he searched for some kind of valuable gem. At first you were worried about being alone with a strange man for a weeks-long mission, but Ezra seemed respectful and fully dedicated to his job. He was handsome, you couldn't help but notice, but this was a job and you refused to let that be a factor. So you'd agreed to go with him on this trip, taking a 50% upfront commission, and now you're dragging your boots through the wet grass trying to keep up with him.

I thought heaven can't help me now

Nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad but he does it so well

Ezra is currently stalking along ahead of you, head bowed, eyes scanning the forest floor for any sign of gem pods. Every now and then he turns around to glance at you, to either ask you a question about the flora and fauna or just to check and make sure you’re still there. You could tell he was getting frustrated that it’s been three days of hunting and yet still no gems in sight. You were following along quietly, trying not to disturb Ezra’s hunt. You glance up from time to time to make sure you can still see Ezra’s dark head poking out from behind trees and under bushes, but generally you keep yourself entertained by studying the clumps of flowers and plants on the ground.

Suddenly a rustling sound in a nearby bush grabs your attention. You catch sight of something small and fluffy huddled behind a tuft of grass. You freeze and squint down at the tiny stir of whiskers and wiggle of white-- it was a lop-eared lapine! An adorable furry creature that was often sold in pet shops, but this one was huddling right in front of you in the wild, seemingly unafraid. The small creature lifts its head and turns two very large, very innocent eyes on you. You smile despite yourself, and crouch down as it hops silently towards you. Its fuzzy paws make next to no impression on the grass as it moves.

It hops until it stops right in front of you. You reach a hand out and upon closer inspection, you realize there’s a spiky burr stuck in its fur.

“Aw, let’s see if I can get that pointy thing off you, little buddy,” you mumble, reaching out and running your fingers through its soft coat. You gently grasp the pointy burr and give it a small tug, but to your surprise the bud isn’t nearly as hard as it looks. As soon as you squeeze it, the bud bursts open and releases a surprising amount of yellow pollen into the air. It floats up, getting caught in your nose and making you sneeze.

The sound makes the lapine squeak and scuttle away into the tall grass. As it disappears, you feel your head begin to spin. Your eyes stop focusing for a moment and there’s a hot surge in the pit of your stomach. Your heart clenches when you realize what’s just happened. The burr must have been a native reproductive pod-- one with powerful side effects for humans that was usually sought out for use in performance enhancement medication. And now you’re completely doused in it.

The pollen is still drifting through the air in a cloud, and you try to get to your feet but your legs are too wobbly. Suddenly, a large hand is gripping your forearm and hauling you up.

“Are you alright, my lovely bird?”

Ezra is giving you a concerned look, unused to seeing you so affected like this. You try to warn him about the pollen but your tongue feels thick and useless. Soon Ezra is sneezing too and you know he’s ingested some of it as well.

“I didn’t mean to… didn’t expect…” you try to form complete sentences but there’s a heat rushing through your veins and blush spreading across your entire body. Ezra is still holding your arm and you reach around him to pull his body closer. Heat pours off both your bodies but you still crave the contact. A low groan slips from Ezra’s lips and the sound goes straight to the now aching spot between your legs.

“Is it… some type of aphrodisiac?” Ezra asks between clenched teeth. He’s holding you flush to his body but he seems frozen. “I do not want to hurt you, Birdie. But I’m afraid I am losing all control of my senses here.”

“Yeah it is,” you gasp, feeling a little better now that you had him so close, “It’s okay to...you know. I want you to. I need you to.”

As if to prove your point, you thrust your hips against his. You can already feel the hardness in the pants of his flight suit, and your mouth literally waters at the thought of it inside you.

“Are you absolutely positive? I may still be able to get away from here. Away from you. If I go now-”

“Don’t you dare.”

At your confirmation, Ezra growls and pushes you forward until your back hits a tree. He presses his mouth against your collarbone and sucks, all coherent thought rapidly vacating your brain at his actions.

I said, "No one has to know what we do"

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

And his voice is a familiar sound

Nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now

You feel dazed, pressed against the tree with your hands pinned on either side by Ezra’s long, strong fingers. You bury your nose in his dark hair as he nibbles your pulse point, inhaling additional pollen, not that you care. He pushes his hips upwards into you, too desperate for friction to question how he’s become so hard so quickly. You rut against him, egging him on and enjoying the amazing sensation of the tight fabric against your clit.

Ezra breaks away from your neck with a gasp and mouths his way along your jaw until your lips finally meet. It’s your first kiss together but neither of you really care at the moment-- the kiss is sloppy in an eager, desperate way brought on by the pollen. You both open your mouths and you tremble with pleasure at the warm slide of Ezra’s tongue against your own. You moan softly into his mouth as you feel his hardness press more insistently against your thigh through the material of his pants.

Then he’s ripping at the zipper and velcro on your flight suit, pulling the top down enough to expose your chest. He keeps his mouth on yours as his hand starts to explore you. He palms your breast, teasing the nipple to a taut peak, and your trembling increases as you struggle to control the heat burning inside you.

"Ezra, please. I need you now. I need to feel you inside me," you beg.

“Relax, my lovely bird. I want to explore you first,” Ezra growls, feeling himself grow even harder as your nipples rise beneath his fingers.

You swallow, unsure if you’re able to comply. He was like a drug to you now, one you never knew you needed. It’s driving you crazy and you know your craving won’t be fulfilled until he’s fully in you. But you take a deep breath and try to relax into his ministrations.

Feeling your body relax, Ezra slowly begins an assault on your senses. He ducks his head and takes one breast into his mouth, running his tongue over the nipple. He sucks gently before biting down, and the jolt of pain-pleasure makes you arch against him and tug at the hair on the back of his head. As he continues to lavish attention on your breasts with his mouth, his hands slip down to slowly work your pants open. You’re almost too distracted to notice until suddenly you feel a thick finger enter you. Your pulse skips a beat as you tremble under his touch, craving more. He continues to pump in and out of you with one hand while his prosthetic arm reaches down to undo the fly of his own pants.

You cry out again as his finger hooks inside you, hitting that special spot that makes your toes curl.

"Ezra, please. I can't take it! I’m going to lose my mind! Please!"

"Fine, have it your way, Birdie," he replies.

In one fast movement he removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock. He slams hard into you, and winds his arms around your back to pull you as close as possible. You cry out at the sensation of finally being filled. You curl into him, your face in his shoulder as he buries himself inside you. He withdraws slowly and sinks back in while he muffles his groans of pleasure into your neck. He strokes in and out of you with a deep, steady pace.

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burnin' it down

“You feel amazing, everything I need,” you babble as the burning sensation inside you begins to settle and shift into pure pleasure.

Ezra groans and pushes against your neck with his nose, “You look so splendid on my cock. Never imagined you would be so wet, so tight. I want to stay in your warm heat forever.”

A rough laugh escaped you at his words-- somehow still trying to be eloquent even with the pollen messing with his brain and tongue. You twist your head to meet his mouth in a passionate kiss. Ezra moans against your mouth as he rapidly chases his own orgasm, hips pounding into yours. Everything feels like too much and not enough at the same time. You’re no longer burning but you’re rapidly falling into a pit of pleasure that you’re not sure you’ll be able to climb out of.

Ezra feels so strong and rough against you. You break the kiss to grin wickedly at him, and lower your head to suck softly on the sensitive skin of his neck. As he speeds up his movements, you bite lightly and squeeze your inner muscles a little more aggressively in time with his thrusts. His balls tighten in response to the feel of your teeth on his neck, your nails in his back, the tightening of your wetness around him.

Ezra reaches down to press your clit with his thumb, and that’s all it takes to make you come undone. You gasp and shudder against him as he thrusts erratically a few more times before following you over the edge. He throbs and gushes deep within you as your walls tremble and tug at his cock. Your orgasms seem to be unending as wave after wave crashes over you both.

Someday when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

Finally, you come down enough to drop your leg from where it was wrapped around Ezra’s hip. Your head falls back against the tree and you close your eyes as you try to steady your breathing.

“Birdie? Can you look at me?”

Your eyes flutter open and you meet his gaze. Ezra’s dark eyes are filled with apprehension and his brow is low as he looks at you with concern.

“I am… uneasy with how our encounter just went. I want you to know that this isn’t what I had in mind when I hired you. I would never-”

“Ezra,” you say, cutting him off before he can bombard you with more unnecessary apologies, “It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault for not being more careful. This doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

Maybe it’s the remnant of pollen still in your system or maybe you just finally know what you’re missing out on, but you hesitantly lift a hand and reach up to brush the hair off his sweaty forehead, taking extra notice of the blonde tuft at the front.

“But... it could change something,” you continue, “If we both want it to.”

Ezra’s look of concern melted into something fonder.

“I believe that’s something worth discussing. I can’t promise you forever, Birdie. My line of work isn’t conducive to commitments. But if you’ll have me for a time, I would very much like to continue exploring this pleasurable path we seem to have stumbled upon.”

You smile up at him, pleased to see a lighter look in his deep brown eyes. “I believe I can agree to that.”

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your (Just pretend, just pretend)

Wildest Dreams

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x female reader #prospect (2018)#ezra x reader #prospect (film)#prospect fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfiction tag #rumbelle

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piabu · 3 years

Text

BAKUGO KKATSUKI (x blind reader)

Getting into UA and becoming a hero, is every young kids dream. And for some its more realistic than it is for others. You always thought that your chance was slim, but when the letter came saying you got in to class 1-B, you were more than estatic. When it comes to stealth and combat your quirk comes in extremely handy. Using echo-location you can "see" many things others can't. Your ears are more sensitive to movement and noise, giving you an advantage, even though you are blind.

Being blind you had to have an aid in classes with you to be your eyes during lessons, but during training, you quirk was better than haveing 20/20 vision. UA was very accomotading to you and your aid. And for the most part everyone was nice. Monoma wasn't your biggest fan and often got on your nerves however.

Today as you entered the school someone bumped into you. You figured it was just Monoma picking on you again tho.

"Hey, watch it extra." the person grumbled. Not Mo.. The voice is somewhat familiar though.

"My appologies." You bowed facing what you thought was the boy. He stood beside you and clicked his tounge.

"Whatever." You heard footsteps and figured he was leaving. Quickly you activated your quirk to see his retreating form and some other students in the hall. His hair was spikey and his shoulders were slightly hunched. You tilted your head studying him.

A hand on your shoulder startled you. You turned your head in the direction of the hand. "Oh hey Erushī." you greeted your aid. "Did you happen to see who I bumped into?"

"Oh yeah, the angry blonde boy. Thats Bakugo Katsuki from class 1-A." Erushī explains. You think back to the some of the "horror stories" you have heard of the explosive teen.

"I see." You laugh at the irony of your statement. "What color is his hair?" Eru links her arm through yours.

"Blonde. Why?"

"Just forming a mental image." You shrug as the two of you enter the classroom.

(Timeskip to lunch)

Erushī walks you to the lunchroom and you sit with your usual table group. You think back to your encounter this morning and use your quirk to scan the lunchroom for Bakugo. You see his figure sitting at a table with some other students you assume are from his class.

"Earth to y/n!" Kendo says as she taps your shoulder. "You okay there?"

"Oh yeah. I'm fine." You flash a small smile to your friends, and close your eyes losing yourself in your mental images. They continue their conversation as you eat.

----

"Hey Bakubro!" Kirishima greets him, and scoots over for his friend to sit down. "You've been quiet today."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean!"

"Ah, theres the Bakugo we know." the redhead jokes.

Bakugo rolls his eyes and lifts his head to see you enter the cafeteria and sit at a table with you classmates. Mina notices him staring and follows his gaze.

"Her name is F/n L/n/." Pretty right! She is in class 1-B."

"Shut up Pinky. I didnt fucking ask." The blonde grumbles and focuses on his food. Mina shrugs.

"I saw you looking, and thought you might wanna know."

"Well you thought wrong." He snaps. A smile creeps onto The pink girl's face and she winks at Kirishima, then guestures to Baku with a nod of her head.

Kiri gets the hint and his eye widen. Sero and Kaminari look between the three of them in confusion. Sero shrugs giving Kami a confused look. And the yellow head returns the look.

"Anyways, so aparently we are training with class 1-B after lunch." Sero says, breaking the silence that befell upon the group.

"Really! Cool!" Mina pipes up.

Katsuki steals a quick glance at you before getting sucked into the conversation by his friends.

(Time skip to sparring)

"Students will be paired up with someone not from their class to train with. Is that understtod?" Eraserhead explains the rest of the rules for training and Mic announces the partners. You were up against a girl named Hagakure. Her quirk was invisibility. You smiled at the perfection of the situation. Someone who is invisible to most, is not to you. You raise your hand.

"Yes y/n?" Aizawa calls on you.

"Could I perhaps have another partner. Hagakure's quirk is invisibility, but I can see her clear as day." you explain. A few heads turn as not many of the A students know of your quirk, but the hero agrees and pairs you up with Bakugo, and giving his partner to the invisible girl.

You all go get changed into your costumes and meet on the training grounds and get ready to spar. Your costume is quite simple. A pair of black leggings with thigh holsters for a few blades to fit. Your (color) top is cropped, sleveless and skin-tight. The lack of sleves allows for straps on your biceps to hold throwing stars. The outfit is pulled together with combat boots and a black blindfold over your eyes for dramtic effect.

"Whats with the blindfold extra? DO YOU UNDERESTAMATE MY POWER THAT MUCH?" Sparks fly from katsuki's palms as he accuses you.

"No, sorry. Its part of my costume. I dont doubt your abilities, Actually I admire how strong you are." You beam at the blonde. A blush tints his cheeks and he is thankful for the bindfld covering your eyes. "Shall we start?" you ask.

He grumbles a response and the two of you fly into action. You immediately activate your quirk and see his figure and take in his costume. Gauntlets. Avoid his hands at all costs. Katsuki moves to launch a blast your way and you move to the side, dodging it effectively. You use this advantage to get closer and land a punch to his shoulder. He spins on you and his elbow makes contact with your stomach. You cough as the wind is knocked out of you and quickly regain your composure. The thing with Bakugo is that he is a loud fighter. So you really wouldn't need your quirk much to fight him anyways. You see, or rather hear, his attacks before they happen.

"Why do you keep dodging? STOP HOLDING BACK DAMNIT!" You laugh quietly and take your blindfold off, wrapping it around your hand.

You decide to humor him and give in to his request. Katsuki is able to land a few hits on you, but for the most part he just tries to avoid your blades. Baku jumps and a blast comes your way and you duck down and slip under and between his legs. You unwravel the blindfold and wrap it around one of his ankles slamming him down onto the ground. You tie it around his other leg, imobilising him on his stomach.

Bakugo puts his palms on either side of him but you grab them and pin them behind his back with one hand, the other holding a blade to his wrists.

"Congratulations y/n." Present Mic says to you. You nod and get off your partner untieing him.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? YOU DIDN'T EVEN USE YOUR QUIRK! I TOLD YOU NOT TO HOLD BACK!" Katsuki explodes and his hand grabs your throat. His palms are warm and you can feel the slight sting of a burn.

"Y/N!" Erushī yells as she rushes up to you. Bakugo lets you go.

"Who the fuck are you?" he snarls.

"I am her AID." Eru says firmly. "L/n is blind." You cough and rub your throat and the two of them look at you.

"Im fine Erushī. And yes Bakugo, i did use my quirk. I may be blind, in a literal sense, but I can still see." He looks at you blankly, then to the girl beside you.

"My quirk is echo-location. I use sounds to see, and you my friend are very loud." You laugh and link arms with your aid. "Good fight." You bow and walk back to the changerooms.

----

'She is blind. That explains why she bowed in the wrong direction this morning, and the blindfold.' Katsuki thinks to himself. 'So she doesn't know what I look like. She probably doesn't even know what she looks like. She can't see facial expressions.'

Part of Bakugo was saddened by that. You were quite a good looking girl. But you would never know it. His thoughts drift to all the things you can and can't do. No wonder the other girl was always with you.

Kirishima clapped Bakugo on the back, pulling him from his thoughts. "Hey bro. How was it?"

Bakugo rolls his eyes and lets out an annoyed "tch," remembering that you pinned him. He shrugs Kiri away and heads to change.

"You should ask her out." the readhead says nonchelantly.

"That's none of your buisness Shitty Hair."

(Time skip)

You sat at home listening to music, when your phone buzzed.

"You have a text from and unknown number: Oi its Bakugo, I got your number from your friend." The automated voice on your phone read the text out loud.

"Text back: Hello there. Smiley face." you say to your phone. "Please name the contact Bakugo."

"Incoming call from: Bakugo." You press on the screen to answer the call and hold it to your ear.

"Hello."

"Hi, meet me at the park near the school." Wow he is forward.

"Uhh.. sure i guess."

"10 minutes."

The line goes dead before you can respond and you turn your phone off. That might have been the shortest call ever. You go downstairs and ask your parent to drop you off. 10 minutes later you are sitting on a swing waiting for Bakugo.

"Can you see me?" Bakugo's voice startles you slightly.

"Sort of. I can see the outline of your figure. You have spikey hair." You say. He hums in agreement. You see/hear him move closer and he takes your hand in his, they are surpizingly soft.

"Can you see yourself?" he asks somewhat quieter.

"No, only from what i can feel.." You face him and your empty eyes stare at him.

"Your eyes are (e/c)." he says. "And your hair is (h/c). Your cheeks are pink."

"I know all that. Ive been told." You laugh dryly. "Can we sit on the grass?" Bakugo hums, and brings you out of the sand. He sits down and you sit next to him, bodies touching.

"Why do you keep your eyes open if you cant see?" he asks.

"I guess just to seem a little more normal. Does it bother you?" you explain.

"No. I like your eyes." You smile to yourself. The boy beside you is completly different from the one you were sparring with at school, and yet its the same person.

"I like this soft side of you Bakugo." you say.

'Its only for you.' he thinks. You feel his hand drop yours and move to your cheek. He turns your head to face him.

"Can you see me?" he asks again. You nod your head. His facial features are more visible to you but still fuzzy.

"What color are your eyes?" you ask.

"Red."

"May I touch you?" He doesnt answer, so you clarify. "Your face i mean."

"Yes."

Your hands come up to his cheeks and you take in all his facial features with your hands. Touching people allows you to have a better sense of what the person looks like and you add this to your mental image of the boy.

Katsuki grabs your wrists stilling your movements and brings your hands back down to your lap.

"Now i can see you." you say.

He stares at you for a brief moment and closes your eyes gently. His hand rests back on your cheek.

"Good." is all he says before his lips are on yours.

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kotsuvi · 4 years

Text

a month of sundays - part two

pairing: nishinoya x fem!reader (slight oikawa x reader later on)

summary: in a period of stress and tight scheduling, kiyoko asks you to step up as manager for the boy’s volleyball team until she can get back on her feet. words: 3.4k warnings: swearing, small bit of angst

a/n: this is my third time trying to post this and i’m slightly perturbed. i also really want to work on the mafia fic AND a smau so... we’ll see how things go.

series masterlist

Kiyoko told Coach Ukai that you had accepted the position, and he was relieved nonetheless. Apparently he assumed you--for whatever reason--were going to say no--which you were--, and he had been panicking to find a replacement. But you hadn’t denied, to both his shock and yours. “Damn,” you mumbled to yourself as you started towards the main gym building. You had changed into your athletic-wear back at home, and although the sun was warm against your back, the breeze was cool, sending goosebumps down your warms. You wished that you had brought a sweater.

It was your first early morning practice with the boys--your first practice as manager. The thought still terrified you, and as you pushed on those heavy double doors, you reevaluated exactly how good of a situation you were getting in, or how bad. “Heads!” Tanaka shrieked as soon as you stepped inside the gym, and you ducked last minute, narrowly missing the yellow and blue volleyball that rocketed past your head. “Wanting to obliterate me already?” You straightened, brushing your hair out of your eyes to spot the culprit. The ball bounced off the wall, then skittered across the floor, landing at the feet of a very flustered Asahi. His face reddened as he picked it up. “I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, his face pinching up in concern. Sugawara chuckled behind him as he practiced his sets, the ball seeming to float above his fingertips. You laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I think it’s something I’ll have to get used to.” Again. Something you would have to get used to again.

“You trying to rip off her head or something?” Nishinoya yelled from across the court, and Asahi dipped his head.

“He didn’t mean to,” you chuckled, letting the doors close behind you. Nishinoya threw a ball into the air, then caught it behind his back, his eyes on you. “I knew you’d come back,” he said, a smirk toying at his lips. “You just missed me so much, didn’t you?”

No, no you hadn’t. No, you didn’t know Nishinoya very well. No, you wouldn’t consider yourself friends. Yes, he was annoying, but also shockingly good looking. You hadn’t noticed it at the practice previously, but his figure had changed. He wasn’t much taller, much a couple of inches, but he had filled out a lot more than you liked to admit. His shoulders were broader, biceps tugging at the material of his tight white shirt, and when he rolled out the kinks in his neck the veins above his Adam's apple swelled. You tried not to stare, but it was unexpected, although you knew that the team had started to hit the gym more often recently. Once you had seen Asahi at the bottom of your street when you were getting home from work. He had explained how exhausted everyone was, but he had also expressed how he believed it was going to pay off.

Clearly it had.

You rolled your eyes at him. “In your dreams.”

You dropped your things outside one of the office’s, your movements slow and controlled. You were cautious. You were nervous. You were just trying to put one foot in front of the other. You didn’t want to freak out, or to seem like some weird fill-in manager chick who couldn’t keep her act together. You just wanted to make it through, one day at a time. “You ready kid?” Ukai asked, his voice making you flinch. You hadn’t even noticed that he had entered the gym, but you knew what it meant: it was official. Once you started you couldn’t just back down, mostly for the sake of your own pride. The boys would know that you didn’t have the guts, and Kiyoko would know too. She was an amazingly supportive friend, but you didn’t want her to see you break. You had received a text from her over the weekend expressing her gratitude. She wasn’t an overly animated person, so you knew that for her to be so thankful was a big deal. You wouldn’t let her down.

You spun around to face the coach. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Ukai cracked a small smile, then flicked his head towards the court. “Almost everyone is here. We’ll wait five minutes, then we’ll get started, okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what you were going to be ‘starting’ on. But you stood because Ukai, nerves pitting your stomach as you watched the boys. Hinata had an exceptionally impressive vertical, and you silently applauded him each time he went up to the net. Moody had a powerful set as well, one that arched when it needed to and fell when it needed to. On the other side of the net, Nishinoya was digging the balls that Hinata had sent over. He got low, right underneath the ball, and passed them up with beautiful height.

“They’re first-year’s, right?” You asked, gesturing to Hinata and Moody. “Sure are,” Ukai said, nodding with approval. “Good, huh?” “Seems like it,” you mumbled, your eyes flitting through the rest of the boys. Tsukki and another freckled boy were practicing hits and blocks on the left side of the net. Sugawara was up against the wall, stretching out his chest. The rest of the boys were hitting, or passing, or practicing serves. To you, it was actually quite chaotic, but somehow it seemed to work.

“Alright!” Tanaka suddenly yelled, bursting through the doors. “It’s okay guys! I’m here! Not to worry!” “We weren’t asking,” Tsukki said flatly, a bored expression on his face. You wondered exactly what Hana thought was so hot about him. The glasses did do something, but they weren’t it.

“Well now that practice is ruined,” Moody said, earning a hard glare from Tanaka. “It was ruined when you joined the team, Kageyama,” Nishinoya stated proudly, and Moody’s lips drew together in a firm line. So the dark haired boy actually had a name. Kageyama.

“Being a second-year doesn’t give you superiority,” Tsukki said, pushing his glasses up with one knuckle.

“Hell yeah it does!” Nishinoya stated, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tossed his ball in the air again. He bumped it once, then twice, then caught it. His eyes darted over to you, and you gave him a shake of your head. He grinned, facing Tsukki.“You’re jealous.”

Tsukki’s face darkened. “Am not.”

“Okay!” Coach Ukai yelled, breaking them up. He gave you an exasperated look, then waved them over. “Come on. You’re going to meet your new manager.” You gulped at the words. “Do I need a speech?” You asked, trying to play off your nerves. “Every good introduction comes with a speech.” Ukai eyed you. “Kid, this isn’t the election. Relax.” Your cheeks flushed pink as the boys crowded around you, wide grins on their eager faces. You met Nishinoya’s eyes, and he gave you a quick thumb’s up and a wink, but it only made you feel even worse. You knew that he was flirty; you had always known it. He made up for his height in personality and confidence, and he fucking made his presence known. It was one of the things that drew Hana to him most. You wouldn’t exactly call him a player, but he definitely pulled girls. Apparently it was an ongoing joke between him and Tanaka, but you didn’t find it overly funny. He could be a jerk sometimes--if his head got to him.

But he had caught your eye, both physically meeting your gaze in that very moment, but also metaphorically, many times before. “So Kiyoko did rope you into it then,” Daichi said, smiling softly. He held a volleyball between his wrist and hip, and he rolled it around his torso once. “She did,” you replied. “Although I don’t know how.” “Aw, have you already picked favourites?” Nishinoya teased, glancing over at Tanaka. You gave him the eye. “Maybe I’ve just already picked least-favourites.” There was a collective whisper throughout the group. Nishinoya’s lips parted with surprise, but he didn’t reply.

Ukai let out a snort beside you, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest. “Boys, as I was saying,” he said, gesturing to you with a flick of his head, “this is Y/N.” “We know Coach!” Tanaka yelled, his voice booming through the gym. “She was here on Thursday!” Ukai quirked a brow. “And formal introductions aren’t a thing anymore?” “Tanaka wouldn’t know,” Tsukki said. “He has no manners.” “Why you little shi-” “Hey,” Ukai cut them off once more. “Please. Let’s not scare Y/N away already, sound good?” Tanaka continued to glare at Tsukki, but he zipped his lips. The tall blonde just shrugged as if to say I’m right. You were tempted to agree. One time you had Tanaka and Kiyoko over for dinner and Tanaka ate everything with his fingers and didn’t use a napkin. He didn’t even wash his hands afterwards, and your parents weren’t entirely pleased with the greasy finger marks all over their furniture.

“Have you been a manager before?” Hinata asked, his face lighting up. He managed to push himself to the front of the group, and he was looking at you eagerly. He seemed like a little burst of energy; you liked him already. “I haven’t,” you replied. “First time for everything?” “I bet you’ll be gone by tomorrow if Tsukki has anything to say about it,” Hinata said casually, and the blonde narrowed his eyes.

“It seems that everyone is against me today,” he said matter-of-factly. “Maybe it’s because I’m presenting the facts. You see-” “Okay professor,” Nishinoya cut in. “Thanks for the lecture.” Tsukki snorted. “Noya you-” “Boys,” Ukai said, interrupting them for a third time. He turned to you briefly to say “bear with me” before proceeding. “I wanted you to get familiar with Y/N, and for her to get an idea of you and your skills.”

“Skills?” Tsukki let out a snicker, his fist coming up to his lips to stifle his laughter. “What skills?” “Oh so you’re referring to yourself as well then, you dimwit,” Kageyama snapped, and then a collective shouting session started, prompting your jaw to drop slightly. You had never seen a team with so much banter in such a short amount of time. Hell, you had barely been standing there for two minutes and they were already in a blowout. “Enough!” Ukai yelled, uncrossing his arms to swipe them through the air. “That. Is. Enough.” “Sorry Coach,” a few of the boys grumbled, and they all earned a disapproving look from Daichi. “You’re a third-year then, Y/N?” More questions from the redhead. You definitely liked him. “I am,” you replied. “So…” Hinata’s brows pinched together as if he was really trying to figure out the circumstance. “Do you play volleyball?”

You knew the question was coming, and you had braced yourself for it, but there, standing in front of all those boys, you felt unprepared. “Uh-” you started, clearing your throat quickly. “I used to.” “Used to?” Asahi asked quietly. “I didn’t know you played.”

You nodded shyly. “Yeah.” “And you don’t anymore?” Hinata almost looked offended. “Why would you ever want to stop? Volleyball is the best sport in the world.”

You knew that. Hell, you had once told all your teammates the same thing. But that was a lifetime ago. “Damn, you’re a nosy little thing, aren’t you?” Tanaka said, ruffling Hinata’s hair. “She probably had people like you on the team Hinata,” Kayegama said bluntly, and Hinata’s expression deflated. “I wouldn’t blame her for quitting.”

Your body went tense, and you couldn't help the defensive response that swelled up inside you. You hadn’t quit. No, far from it. If you had, you wouldn’t have been standing there in front of all those boys, having them gawk at you and question you to wit’s end. As a harsh reminder, you body crawled with a shoot of pain, starting with your toes. You bit your tongue to hold back a wince.

“I didn’t quit,” you said quickly, your jaw tightening. You hadn’t meant for it to come out so hard, but the boys picked up on it. Hinata quirked a brow, and the corners of Nishinoya’s lips turned down slightly. Daichi continued to roll the ball around his torso, but he exchanged a glance with Suga. “Y/N doesn’t have to explain anything to us,” Coach Ukai laughed, giving you a quick shake of the shoulder. You were relieved; it appeared as if Hinata was going to continue his interrogation.

You forced him a smile, shaking away your outburst. “It’s a long story. Maybe for another time.” “We can make that happen,” Nishinoya said, hair flopping as he tipped his head. “Name a place and a time.” You clicked your tongue, but didn’t reply. He was toying with you, it was just what he did. But right there in front of Coach?

You sighed. “We’ll deal with personal matters later,” Ukai said, giving Nishinoya a look. “For now, just make sure you treat Y/N with respect, and you listen to her like you listen to me, got it? Anything she says, you do it.” You could’ve sworn you heard Nishinoya whisper “kinky” to Tanaka. “Now, let’s show her what you’ve got. Serves!”

“Yes sir!” The boys yelled, and then they split; parting to different areas of the gym. They picked up balls along the way, and then in no time they were sending them across the gym, spiralling over the net. Decent, decent, decent. The boys were good, you would definitely admit it.

You just hoped that they hadn’t picked up on the tenseness of your stance.

“Not bad,” you said, the words slipping between your lips before you could stop them. “You think so?” Nishinoya said, stepping up beside you, a ball twirling in his hands. You noticed just then--with him so close to you--that he had piercings. Three of them, actually. One stud on his right and two small hoops on the left. That was new. “I bet I could do better.” “Oh really?” You asked, watching as Asahi sent a beautiful ball over the net. In all honesty, you were being awed. “Then why don’t you get out there and show me?” “Please,” Tsukki muttered as he picked up a ball close to your feet. “Shorty can’t serve for shit.” “Shut up Four Eyes!” Nishinoya snapped, flustered. You laughed. “I’m sure you could do it.”

“Oh-” “Or not.”

Nishinoya pursed his lips, still mindlessly spinning the ball in his hands. “Oh, I see how it is.” He paused. “ You said you used to play volleyball?” He raised his brows, then his hands, waving them through the air. “Well I’m sure Tanaka knows. Tana-!” “Shut up!” You whisper-shouted, batting his arms back down to his sides. “Shut up. I haven’t played in ages.” “There a reason for that?” Nishinoya asked, his face pinching with suspicion. From the short amount of time that you had known him, you had become accustomed to his few quirks: the curious look in his eye; the loud mouth; the flirtatious tendencies. He wasn’t easy to miss in a crowd.

“Like I said before,” you said, almost a little too defensively. “It’s a long story.” Nishinoya pretended to check an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Hm, seems like I’ve got time.” “Noya!” Dachi yelled, as if on cue. “Get your lazy ass away from Y/N and start doing something!” Nishinoya tilted his head innocently, then tossed the ball in his hands up into the air. He bumped it up once, twice, three times, never breaking eye contact with Daichi. “What?” He asked sweetly. “But I am doing something Daichi.” Daichi pursed his lips; paused his serve to give Noya a look. “Use your time effectively.” “Always do, Captain.” Nishinoya caught the ball as soon as Daichi turned back around. “He’s uptight sometimes. He needs to live a little.” “Maybe you just need to listen,” you shot back, raising your brows. Nishinoya scoffed. “As if. What did I tell you? I only listen to me, myself and I.” “Noya, practice your digs with some of these serves,” Ukai said as he passed, his eyes scanning through a large stack of papers. “Yes sir,” Nishinoya grumbled, and you let out a laugh, your palm covering your mouth to keep quiet.

“What were you saying?” You called as he sauntered away. “About answering only to yourself?” “Yeah yeah!” He snapped, waving you off. “I get it.”

You grinned as you watched him walk over to the opposing wall. He tossed the ball against it, then bumped it back. Wall, arms. Wall, arms. Wall, arms. The ball made a steady rhythm. “So, kid,” Ukai said, making his way back towards you. “You mentioned you’ve played before?” You nodded. “How much do you know? Or remember.” All of it. Every little detail. You could recite the rules of the game in your sleep; every single play that your team ever did.

“A decent amount,” you replied softly.

“Perfect.”

The first practice went relatively smooth, you could agree to that. You had successfully managed to follow through the directions that Ukai had given you, and you actually had some fun. The boys seemed to like you too, which calmed your nerves immensely.

You stumbled out of the gym, freshly changed out of your athletic-wear. Your uniform was spritzed with a small amount of rose scented body mist, just to steer clear from any kind of gross locker room smell. That was about the only thing that you didn’t miss about sports: the change rooms.

“Well Y/N!” Tanaka exclaimed as you left the gym. “Success?”

You gave a heavy sigh. “Sadly not.”

“What?” Noya--you had decided to take up the nickname—asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he caught up with you. “You’re tired of us already?”

“Actually just you,” you replied, deadpan. “I think I’m going to quit.”

He pouted. Yeah, you decided, he was cute. “You shouldn’t,” Tanaka said, his fingers toying with his backpack straps. He wiggled his brows as he talked, and you laughed. “The superiors like you. The peasants like you as well.”

The three of you started across the courtyard. You told Hana not to wait for you before the first period, so there were a few extra moments to spare. You wanted to try and catch up with Kiyoko before she went to her class, but there were a million places she could’ve been. Plus, you weren’t sure if you would even be able to break away from the two boys. They hadn’t shut up since practice had finished.

Cue: chatter chatter chatter, you never stop talking.

“What class do you have now?” Noya asked, running a hand through his hair, then quickly over his jaw. He looked older than you remember. He would’ve been what? 17? Someone had told you he had an early birthday, so maybe even 18. “World history,” you replied. As if on cue, your bag seemed to get four times heavier, and your back began to ache. You jumped slightly, trying to hoist the bag up higher. “What do you have?”

You started up the steps to your hall. A group of girls rushed past you, all of them complaining about nearly missing their club meeting. From the other end of the courtyard, someone was playing rock music from a mysterious speaker. The school would probably shut it down within the hour, but the kid had the right kind of spirit. The music wasn’t even half bad.

“Ethics,” Noya replied, his eyes darting from you to the ground. “Wish I had taken world history.” “No you don’t!” Tanaka yelled, shoving Noya roughly on the shoulder. “It’s bloody hell. All this stuff about who knows what and who did this and who did that. I don’t care, it’s the past.” You grinned. “That’s why you’re failing.” “Am not!” Tanaka argued, tossing a set of keys into the air. Noya attempted to grab them when they were thrown again, but he was unsuccessful.

You were in class 4 and Tanaka was in class 2. You didn’t really ever walk with him to class, but every once in a while it happened, and every once in a while Nishinoya had tagged along. You enjoyed those moments. Noya was easy to get along with; playful and charming, with a decent sense of humour. You couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he spoke. He had an aura about him, one that made his ego almost suffocating. You didn’t mind so much because it was him, but you knew of another particular person that just happened to inflict their ego heavily on the crowd. You had fallen victim to this particular person more than once.

You shook off the thought.

“I’m only down the hall,” Noya said, tugging at the collar of his uniform. The first few buttons at the top were undone, and the tie was loose. Tanaka’s looked exactly the same, but you weren’t watching him nearly as intently as you were watching Noya.

You tried laughing it off. “Well thank God for that then, right? Any danger and I’ll know exactly who to call.” Noya winked. “Oh you bet. I’ll be waiting.” “I was going to say Ghostbusters.” Tanaka frowned. “I would call Ghostbusters.” “Of course you would Tanaka,” Noya said cheerily, slapping the tall boy across the back of the head. “You’ve got absolutely zero common sense!” “Says the kid that’s always in detention!” Tanaka defended, crossing his arms tightly. “Me being in detention has nothing to do with my grades.” Tanaka gave you a knowing look at you and you bit back your laugh. “Whatever you say,” he replied. “Detention huh?” You questioned as you stepped into the hall. Your classroom was right at the end, and you ducked and weaved under arms and over bags. Everyone was pushing and shouting and laughing with one another, and it almost made it hard to hear. Noya did the same, dodging oncoming students, one hand tugging at his dual-toned locks. Tanaka just shrieked at them to move. “Only every couple of weeks,” Noya said, shrugging like it was nothing. He then stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking over at you with a glint of achievement in his eye. “Why? You like bad boys Y/N?” You felt the colour rise to your cheeks and you dropped your gaze. “Of course.” You tried to play along. “Wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“You’re the exception,” Tanaka stated proudly to Noya, who rolled his eyes.

You neared your classroom and you slowed. Noya did the same, but Tanaka plowed forward, not even noticing that you had stopped. “This is me,” you said, flicking your head towards the door. Noya glanced inside, then over at you, a smirk toying at his lips. “Well, you know where to find me,” he said, pulling a hand out of his pocket to salute you casually. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

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tsukkisbean · 4 years

Photo

24 cakes pt.1 | oneshot

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

genre: fluff, mildly suggestive

warnings: none!

a/n: so this kind of turned into a oneshot but oh well. i also tried to make it so that you could technically read the two parts separately if you prefer fluff/smut over the other but idk how well that worked out. anyways, pt 2 has been scheduled to come out in 2 hours. n e ways TSUKISHIMA BEST BOY!! also this is a reupload bc my original post disappeared. if you already saw this NO U DIDN’T

the smell of smoke engulfs your apartment and you quickly run to slide open your balcony door. turning on your heels you make your way back to the kitchen. clambering atop the counter you try to wave the air clear with your palms. when the piercing sound of the smoke alarm finally cuts out, you plop down, letting your legs dangle over the edge of the counter.

your eyes land on the stovetop where your burnt creation sits. you let out a frustrated cry. you’ve made this recipe more times than you can count on your fingers because somehow they’ve all ended up in disaster. first, there was the time you underbeat the whipped cream, and ended up with a sticky mess. then there was the time you accidentally knocked the batter onto the floor. not to mention the time you dropped the cake right as you pulled it out of the oven.

this time you had gotten so wrapped up in your phone call with tsukishima you didn’t realize that your oven timer was going off. by the time you had come to your senses, it was too late.

you rub your temples in annoyance. despite starting weeks in advance to make sure you had the recipe down, it was now the day of your boyfriend’s birthday and you had yet to successfully finish the recipe even once.

taking a quick glance at the clock, you push yourself off the counter to throw away your burnt masterpiece and begin pulling out ingredients once more. tsukishima was supposed to be over in a few hours, so if you wanted to have enough time you had to start now.

you’re about to combine the dry ingredients together when there’s a brisk knock on the door. dusting your hands on your apron, you make your way to the front entrance. you swing your door open, and slam it shut just as fast.

the knocking starts up again, this time more persistent and more aggressive. your fingers fumble with the door chain, sliding it into place before cracking the door open ever so slightly. you’re about to peek out into the hallway, but before you can get a good view, your visitor tries to force the door open further causing you to jump back in surprise.

“y/n? what the hell are you doing?” the person on the other side says, irritation evident in their voice. when you don’t respond they speak again, this time with a much softer tone, “y/n please let me in. are you okay?”

“mhm” is the only thing you manage to squeeze out though it sounds more like a squeak. gently pressing the door closed again, you remove the chain to let your visitor in. when your boyfriend comes into full view, you flash him a bashful smile, “sorry, kei. i was just caught off guard, i thought we agreed that you’d come over at 9pm.”

the tall male scoffs, raising his hand to give your forehead a flick, before perching forward to press an apologetic kiss against the red mark, “nii-chan got held up at work so he won’t be here until tomorrow.”

you try to pull off your best scowl, only to have him to snort at you, “so? are you going to let me in or are you going to keep making faces at me?” he cranes his neck to look past you, his height giving him a clear advantage.

reluctantly, you step aside and he lets himself in, removing his shoes and changing into his slippers in the process. as the two of you step into the kitchen, you avoid eye contact, already able to picture the smug expression on his face.

his arms slip around your waist, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. despite the sweet actions, the nuance in his voice says otherwise, “aw y/n were you trying to bake me a birthday cake? you really shouldn’t have.”

you pull away from him, sticking out your tongue in response, “fine in that case i’m going to make this strawberry shortcake for myself.” you tap your chin pretending to deep in thought for a moment, “or maybe i’ll ask yamaguchi if he wants some.”

you expect a snarky remark but he says nothing, instead he strides over to one of the drawers to pull out an apron. you watch as he hooks the bib around his neck, and fastens the string around his waist.

he picks up the recipe by the corner, letting it dangle in the air. he shoots you a questioning look but you shrug your shoulders and snatch the paper out of his hands. “so i’ve already tried to bake this recipe a couple of times, it’s bound to have a couple of stains here and there.”

“how many times is a couple, really? three? ten? fifty?”

you mutter something under your breath, fingers fiddling with each other. tsukishima leans in closer, cupping his ear with his hand, “sorry, can you say that again?”

you roll your eyes, this time your voice at a normal volume, “twenty-three.”

this time tsukishima laughs with his whole chest, using his pointer finger to gently push your head, “twenty-three? i’m surprised you haven’t burned the entire place down.”

placing your hands on your hips, you challenge him, “what? you think you can do better?”

he shifts in his spot so that your eyes are level with his, “oh i know i can do better.”

with that, he snatches the recipe back from you, doing a careful readthrough of each step. you watch as he scoops a cup of flour, neatly levelling it with a metal spatula. just as he’s about to pour the flour into the bowl, you lunge forward, bumping your hip against his side. a white cloud rises into the air, coating the both of you in flour.

tsukishima grabs you by the wrists, clicking his tongue in annoyance “tsk, do you really hate losing that much?”

you feign innocence, flashing him your sweetest smile, “sorry, i lost my balance.”

unable to think of a comeback he releases you, turning his attention back to the task at hand. as works through each step, you shadow him, interjecting a few comments every so often.

wrapping your arms around his waist, you rest your face against the side of his body, “are you sure that’s soft peaks it’s looking a little runny still”

he tilts the bowl towards you, lifting the mixer up so you can see how the egg whites droop over slightly, “yes i’m sure.”

you take your chance again when he moves onto the next step, “be careful not to add the sugar too fast or-”

but to your dismay he’s already one step ahead of you,“then the stiff peaks won’t form, i know.”

in a last resort to try and distract him, you throw in one last punch, “are you really sure you want to fold your meringue in now? it’s looking a little soft still.” obviously fed up with your antics, tsukishima grabs the metal bowl, flipping it above your head.

instinctively, you duck your head down and cover your head with your hands. cracking an eye open, you’re met with his usual smirk. and so, you shuffle over to the other side of the counter situating yourself on one of the bar stools.

you watch silently as he works through the final steps with ease. once the cake is placed in the oven he turns his attention back to you.

his long frame leans over the kitchen counter and kisses the tip of your nose, “sorry, but it looks like this is just one more thing that i’m better than you at. although 24 cakes does seem appropriate for today’s occasion, huh?”

you huff, crossing your arms against your chest, “technically you’re not finished until the cake its cooked, iced, and decorated.” turning your head slightly you side eye him, “besides you may be better than me at some things. but you’re definitely not everything.”

a sly smile appears on tsukishima’s face, “oh yeah? i can think of plenty of things that i can beat you at right now.”

your palms hit the counter as your body shoots out of its seat, “oh yeah? let’s go then. right here, right now.”

(a/n: if you want to read the smutty ending of this then please check out my blog at 3:00pm pst (in 2 hrs)! i’ve scheduled the next post for then. otherwise read on hehe.)

your entire body quivers under your boyfriend. never have you wanted to scream at him so bad before. but you bite your tongue and hold yourself back for the time being. there was no way you were going to lose to him, not when you had so confidently declared that you were going to beat him.

“left hand yellow, y/n.”

you let out a triumphant yell as your hand is already planted on a yellow spot. but the feeling is short lived when you realize that you now have to maneuver yourself to reach the spinner. it’s obvious your boyfriend is thinking the same thing from the way he shoots you a smile.

but you refuse to lose, not when you’ve held out for this long. before your hand reaches the spinner, a blaring noise fills the room.

the two of you look at each other, and this time it’s you who shoots him a knowing smile. he glowers at you as he twists his body to stand up. once he stands up fully erect, your arms and legs give out, your body crumpling onto the floor.

as you lay there, a delicious scent fills your nostrils. automatically, you rise to your feet, skittering over to join your boyfriend by the oven. he takes notice of your presence, and defensively holds his arms out, “don’t you dare come anywhere near my cake. you might ruin it.”

your mouth hangs open, reaching out to give his chest a playful shove, “hey i’m good at baking. i just had a few…mishaps.” your voice trails off momentarily, “plus i just beat you at twister, so technically we’re tied for today!”

tsukishima clicks his tongue, obviously irritated at the fact that he most likely would have won if it weren’t for the timer going off.

“let’s play another round, loser has to wash all the dishes.” he extends his hand out to you.

grabbing his hand, you give it a firm shake, “you’re on! prepare to lose, kei.”

your grip loosens but before you can completely pull your hand away, you’re tugged against tsukishima’s body. in one swift motion his lips capture yours in a chaste kiss. after a moment, he pulls away slightly, letting your lips brush against each other as he speaks, “whatever you say, love. but just remember today is my birthday.”

a/n: hello!! i’m putting my final author’s note here just because i didn’t wanna spoil the ending hehe. anyways i hope you guys liked the ending now i’m thinking about doing twister hc with haikyuu sooooooo look out for that :)

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu imagine #tsukishima x you #haikyuu scenarios #clara click clacks

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libradusk · 4 years

Text

Touch Starved | Maul

Word count: 2365

Summary: You need all of him tonight, but you know that in a fight between your heart and inner saboteur, you won’t be claiming your prize without spilling some part of your soul.

Warnings: Suggestive themes.

a/n: The irony of Maul’s chapter having the shortest warning is not lost on me.

Also I included a prompt from this list because it made me SOFT.

The Sundari Palace’s royal quarters were every bit as opulent as the throne room itself. One could describe it as representing a harmonious marriage of geometric structure and silver embellishment befitting the grandeur and status the palace represented, with its towering ceiling and glittering stained glass windows that fractured the dying light of the evening across the room in a bleeding spectrum.

Upon your first time regarding the palace’s interior, you had found it to be the architectural personification of a contradiction - at once subtle, but also extravagant in its design when you were to really look closely at its detailing. Now, it felt befitting for a planet whose previous ruler had prided herself with a regime of pacifism despite the fearsome history her throne had been built upon.

You were surprised that Maul had kept what now functioned as his private quarters so close to Satine’s original design. Aside from the numerous Shadow Collective documents scattered across the desk, it remained largely unchanged. At this point, it might as well have served as your personal quarters instead, considering how nowadays you seemed to spend more time within the bedroom than the former Sith Lord himself.

Maul always implored you to spend your nights in his bed - even when he wasn’t there to share it with you. More recently than ever you found yourself awakening each morning to his side cold and vacant, as he sat at his desk scowling and pouring over datapads just as diligently as he had been before you had drifted off, lonely despite him being present mere steps away from where you laid in the empty embrace of his silk sheets.

It's a difficult vortex to be trapped within, you’re aware of how important, yet capricious his control of Mandalore and the Collective is and how his workload represents that - but all the same, its agonising as his lover to be forced to sit back and watch him all but tear off his horns with the stress that rests on his shoulders.

With each night that this tired routine repeated, you had promised yourself it would be the last. Tonight when the opportunity to pounce arose, you intended to grasp it.

---

You can’t help but stand a little surprised at how easily Maul gives in to the persuasion to join you atop the bed. Your touch is firm yet gentle, much like your will, as you guide him there with a trail of butterfly kisses and subtle caresses that sing with promises of something more. It takes barely any time at all before his body melts into compliance beneath your hands with a sigh that's strung with relief. There's a rare flash of obedience in the way his head falls back against the pillows as you straddle his hips, and it stokes the excitement curling to a flare in your stomach.

He wants this as much as you, but he’s tired. Exhausted even. It's even more apparent in his eyes up close as you lean in to kiss him for the first time in days.

They seem more beige than gold these days. You sometimes wonder if it stems from the finality of his severance from his old master, Sidious’ mark having replaced itself in the form of new, forking scars across his body and mind and the absence of Savage from his life.

It's difficult to push back the pain that comes with that knowledge even as you lay twisted around him. It sits deeply within you, nestled in a place you cannot expel it, forever threatening to scratch tears out from behind your lids. You won’t let Sidious win today, this moment exists for you and Maul, if only for a little while.

Your focus snaps once more to the pools of yellow that have reopened beneath you, they’re soft but curious and shine with the tilt of his head as Maul gazes upwards at you. There's a question dancing upon his lips but you don’t allow it the chance to blossom, dropping down to instead close the distance between your mouths once more and kiss him deeply, hungrily this time.

It's still not enough, you need all of him, you miss all of him so terribly that you ache. Your kisses are laced with intent and refusal to spend another night with the connection between you spread thin and punctuated by war meetings and paperwork.

He needs this too, as much as you if not more because his kisses threaten to devour you - all tongue and teeth like he’s never had a taste of you before. He’s openly groaning against you now, writhing at each touch like a wanton virgin desperate to be claimed as your own. It only spurs you on further until you’re not even sure if you’re in complete control of your voice anymore.

“For tonight, you’re mine.”

The growl piercing your words catches you off guard with the rawness of its emotion, but you run your nails over the line of his jaw all the same. The pad of your thumb catches his lower lip and you feel his breath hitch as you duck to press a biting kiss to the hollow of his throat.

His muscles turn rigid then as if your words had struck him, something about the moment has soured and turned disquieting between you. It fizzles the lust-slickened bravado fuelling you, and forces you to hide your face in his collarbone so he can’t see the flash of panic that has cut through the haze in your eyes. The worry that your four words have somehow ruined the first real embrace you’ve shared in weeks runs cold within your veins, and suddenly you can’t think of anything else other than how stupid you are to have let it all fall apart by provoking him when he’s vulnerable.

The exhaustion has clearly caught up with you too, looming just out of sight while you weren’t focused enough to check over your shoulder.

His hands move you where your mind cannot then, delicately threading their inked digits around your face to gently but securely force you back to his own. There's genuine concern creasing around that familiar, loving stare he’s giving you now. Had you been in a brighter state of mind, it would have perhaps made you nostalgic, but now the intensity of his eyes has your insides squirming with another thick wave of regret and even then you can’t bring yourself to hide away from it.

You’re reminded of how the former Sith possesses the elegance and status to command a room with just his voice alone, yet the power radiating from him could also bring forth the snap of violence at any necessary moment. You had seen this latter side of him more and more as of late, but despite the unpleasantness of the association your mind has forced you into, you note that he still handles you like silk slipping through his fingers.

He loves you and he’s afraid.

Fear holds power over you both.

“I am always yours, my sweet.” The tiredness in his eyes has wilted to sadness now makes you despise your careless Freudian slip of the tongue even more.

Maul is quick to sense your growing distress because there’s barely a breath that passes before his eyes hide their fierceness beneath heavy lids and he exhales a sigh of frustration.

You’re not entirely sure if it's aimed at you or himself.

Regardless, his slender hands release your face to stroke calming patterns atop your thighs. The movement of his fingertips hold the memory of how you so often trace your own across the patterns inked across the crimson expanse of his skin. You keep your sight trained on his face despite the urge to hide beckoning to you once again, you feel you owe him that much.

“... I would never be able to forgive myself if I ever did anything to convince you that wasn’t the absolute truth.”

His voice is small and sad in his throat. It's one he only shows to you, and often its appearance has to be coaxed out in the dead of night when the two of you spill your souls naked to the other. Being vulnerable within the walls of Sundari Palace is a dangerous game, especially during such times as these.

He’s yet to explicitly say it aloud, but you know these days his apprehension hangs heavier than ever, with potential enemies lurking around each opulent corner, letting down his guard in any measurement would be a testament to his own suicide. The frustration poisoning the air is channelled at himself, not you - yet even knowing that now does little to unravel you from the twist of guilt that has made itself at home in your gut.

Maul isn’t even angry, not really. In this suspended moment he just seems… sad.

Rings of red and gold peak back out from beneath dark eyelids now. His eyes look like a sinking sunset with the tattoos that colour his sockets midnight acting as their horizon, they swallow them until his irises blend into an orange shimmer that can’t quite meet your gaze.

You lean forward to kiss his brow chastely, compelled to do so by the pull of emotion tugging you forward like a hollow-chested marionette on its strings. His palms slide around to cup your lower back as you lean into him, nosing against his throat and marvelling at the heat of his flesh. You’ve missed having such open access to him - to all of him.

The Zabrak hums in appreciation, his mind clearly mirroring the pattern your own thoughts had warmed to. His hands stay planted in place, as if they do not dare to move until you have given them the answer they await.

It’s stuck behind the lump in your throat that will not be swallowed down.

Inked fingers begin to tap impatiently against your spine after a moment passes with nothing but a sigh between you, but Maul doesn’t force you to speak until you’re ready.

“... I’ve missed you terribly, Maul.” The words sound lacklustre when they finally make their appearance, murmured shy with shame and the fear that you’re being selfish.

You feel him swallow and the tapping ceases for a beat before it is replaced by a prolonged squeeze of your hips. You’re certain you can sense the way he turns your confession over in his mind, dismantling and vivisecting it with a strategist's prowess.

“I’m worried about you.” More words fall from you before you can stop them and you hold your breath once more.

Another hum sounds from him then, this one curious, challenging even, but his eyes continue to speak the truth his mannerisms attempt to conceal.

“Oh? Pray tell, what exactly worries you?”

“Everything.”

It's the easiest confession you’ve voiced so far, and in doing so it takes a splinter of your fears away with it. Though you’re not exactly sure what emotion it is that seeps in afterwards to fill its place.

Maul’s lips part in unison with the widening of his eyes, though the flash of shock that brightens them is snuffed out just as quickly by a furrowed remorse that drapes itself over the entirety of him before he has the sense to yank it back.

It manifests in the exhale that leaves him as he gathers you up fully in his embrace, pulling you to lay flat against him, your head on his chest and your tears spilling down alongside the rest of you. The rhythm of his hearts beating in tandem threatens you with a looming sentimentality, it eases the flow of tears creeping down your cheeks, but it also takes a great deal of stern resilience to hold on to your ability to stay awake.

His fingers have returned to weaving patterns against your back this time, embroidering imaginary tapestries of thought through your clothing and stitching you closer together.

“I am infatuated with you, my heart.” The words sound almost choked as he pauses to press his lips to the crown of your skull, but in a breath his voice and mind seem to steady once more to its usual smoothness, “...There are frightening shadows looming ahead. I cannot lie to you, I won’t.”

Another kiss. This one lingers and is accompanied by the graze of his fingertips against your chin as he eases you up to match his gaze akin to how he did earlier.

“But I promise you that everything I do now, and everything I will do in the weeks that follow is to ensure we stand the best chance of surviving it, together. I implore you to trust me, just for a while longer my love, please.”

His words stir a new unease within you as they drag their nails across your neck. You blink back the sensation, focusing instead on breathing in his oath and attempting to heed his request as best you could. Maul was not known to most for being a righteous man, but he had yet to lie to you, and you had little reason to believe that now would be the time for him to toe the line of trust you had built up.

You answer him with a kiss, one that is deep and affirming - sealing your name on the unwritten contract ascribed across his tongue. He’s receptive and open to the push of your mouth against his, groaning deeply in his chest. The ruler of Mandalore’s lips taste of gratitude and fire and promise. You swallow it all and return it tenfold in the way your hand unhooks his fingers from around your jaw to pin them down in their own embrace next to the headboard. His knuckles graze the chill of its surface and he hisses at the sudden change in sensation.

When you part, the brimstone in his eyes has inflamed once again and there is a heaviness to his breath that you recognise well.

“Perhaps I should show you the extent of my devotion seeing as your words fail to indicate you believe me, hmm? I believe my actions beg of your forgiveness, sweet one.”

#touch starved #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #maul x you #star wars reader insert #maul #its hip to be a maul fucker #mine

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marveloushiddleston · 3 years

Text

The Monster Within

English German

Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Plot: After the last fight against Thanos, the task of the remaining Avengers was done. And a new team of Avengers must now protect the Earth from a new unknown force. Together with SWORD, Wanda, Vision, Doctor Strange, Carol, Bucky, Sam and Loki, who must first prove himself on Midgard as a team and face unknown enemies.

Chapter 2

Loki unexpectedly appears behind the Black Order and seems cheerful, "If I could interject ... if you are going to Earth, you may need a guide. I have a little experience in that terrain."

"If you mean mistake experience.", Thanos explains unimpressed.

"I consider experience to be experience. Almighty Thanos, I ... Loki ... Prince of Asgard ...", Loki looks meaningfully at Thor, "Odinson ... the rightful King of Jotunheim ... God of Mischief ... do hereby swear my undying fidelity."

Thor blinks in confusion and notices a dagger appear in Loki's hand. Loki readies himself, thrusts upward with lightning speed, and attempts to stab Thanos, but is frozen by the power of the Space Stone before the dagger could strike Thanos.

"Undying? You should choose your words more carefully.", Thanos twists the dagger out of Loki's hand with his right hand, then grabs Loki's neck with his glove and lifts him to eye level. Loki struggles and kicks as his throat is compressed. Thanos makes eye contact with Thor before increasing his force on Loki's neck.

Finally Loki gives up the fight against Thanos, "You will ... never ... be a god." Thanos broke Loki's neck and killing him.

"NO!" screams Thor in a muffled voice.

Thanos walks over to Thor and drops Loki's lifeless body in front of Thor.

"No resurrection this time.", Thanos raises his glove, sends purple force fire through the remains of the spaceship and uses the space stone to teleport away with the Black Order.

"No ... Loki ...", Thor is released from his bonds. He crawls to Loki's body and rests his head on Loki's chest, shedding tears for all he has lost. The ship explodes along with Loki and Thor....

Loki wakes up startled and sits up in bed in one swift movement. The haze of sleep is still heavy on him. He rubbed the sleep from his face. The sky was turning yellow-gold, slowly chasing away the dark night as Loki looked to his window. He realized it was still very early in the morning. After returning from the dead, like so many millions in the universe, nightmares had become commonplace for Loki. He wondered if the people who had shared his fate of returning from the dead shared the same torment. But perhaps it was just his punishment, the price only he had to pay to be alive. After a while Loki managed to push aside the tormenting thoughts that occupied him and pulled aside the velvet green bedspread. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold black floor, and if he weren't an ice giant, the cold would bother him. Loki let his gaze wander around his room. It may be that this room did not remotely resemble his chambers in Asgard, but even Loki had to admit that living in Avengers Tower was not as bad as he had first feared. Loki turned his gaze down to his left hand and closed his eyes for a moment. As he let the semblance of his appearance, imposed on him by Odin as a newborn, fade, he took a deep breath. Loki, after a moment's hesitation, opened his eyes and studied his blue hand closely, markings running along his hand. He got up from his bed and walked across the room to the dark wooden mirror that stood in the right corner in his room next to the door. His eye color was ruby red instead of the usual green of his eyes and blue markings ran along his face. Markings that showed his origin. The blue markings on his blue skin ran across his neck, his arms, and all over his chest. Loki cautiously walked closer to the mirror. He raised his hand up to the mirror and pressed his flat palm against it. The mirror began to freeze in a few seconds and when it was completely covered with ice, he removed his hand from the mirror surface. Loki waited until the mirror was completely thawed before hiding his ice giant form, his true appearance, again. With a quick flick of his wrist, he made a dark green short-sleeved T-shirt appear over his muscular torso. Loki knew that he would probably not find any kind of peaceful sleep after the nightmare. Training would not hurt him and perhaps will help him against the thoughts that occupied his mind. He remembered that during the tour of the Tower with Thor, he had noticed an internal gym.

Loki snaps his fingers as he enters the studio, thereby turning on the lights with his seidr. He looks around the studio at the various sports equipment. Loki spots a punching bag hanging in the corner and walked across the studio to it. He punched the punching bag, first one punch, then harder, faster, and more often, as if he were repressing memories by doing so. Loki's punches get harder. With one powerful punch, he hits the punching bag and flings it from its moorings across the gym floor.

"How do you feel about fighting with something alive.", Loki turns around and saw Bucky standing behind him in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Why are you up so early?", Loki asks as he tries to catch his breath.

"I think the reason that keeps us both from sleeping is one and the same."

"Are you sure you can keep up with me?" asks Loki, smiling.

"With you? All the time."

🐍

Bucky struck unexpectedly as Loki caught Bucky's clenched fist. Bucky and Loki continue to fight. Loki grabs Bucky's right arm and tucks it behind him.

"Who's winning?" asks Sam as he sits down next to Stephan on the bench. Wanda offered him some of the popcorn from the bowl. Sam ate some of the popcorn and watched the fight intently.

"I'll bet on Bucky," Stephan says.

Loki pushes Bucky back. The two continue to fight. Loki punches Bucky in the face, causing him to fall backward. Bucky jumped up before sweeping his leg under Loki's legs, causing Loki to lose his balance. Bucky tried to kick Loki, who was on the ground, but he rolled out from under him and got up behind Bucky in a quick leap. Loki punched him in the back, sending him stumbling forward.

"I'm Team Loki." said Wanda, continuing to eat popcorn.

"Alright, I'm on Loki's team too.", Sam explains, leaning back as he watches the fight.

"Vis?" asks Wanda, the hitherto silent Vision.

"Although I don't really participate in this sort of thing, I have to disagree with you, Wanda. Bucky clearly seems to have the advantage," Vision states matter-of-factly. Bucky lands a kick to Loki's side. Punches went back and forth between the two.

"What does the losing team have to do?" asks Stephen, crossing his arms in front of his chest."

"Take over the cleaning schedule for two weeks," Wanda says without taking her eyes off the fight.

"Sounds fair to me. Deal.", Stephan agrees. Bucky's foot connects with Loki's face, nearly dropping him to the floor. Loki's hands twisted Barnes' wrists and arms, keeping him from moving for a moment. With a kick to the back, Bucky gets Loki to loosen his grip and is able to break free.

"Since when they do that?" asked Carol, confused, as she joined them in the gym. Sam looked at his watch.

"About an hour and a half now."

"And neither of you are intervening? ", Danvers asked.

"Nope." said Sam, Wanda and Stephen in unison, only Vision doesn't answer as he continues to watch the fight intently. Bucky tries to hit Loki's head with his metal arm, but Loki ducks and kicks Barnes in the right side, this made him stagger back a little. Unexpectedly, an orange protonblast hit the two during their fight, knocking them off their feet and sending Loki and Bucky backwards across the studio onto their backs. Loki strained to lift his head to see what happened and looked in the direction from where the protonblast was shot. Carol smiled triumphantly at the two as her fists returned to normal.

"Now if you're done with your...little comparison. We have a mission.", Danvers explained. She took some of popcorn from Wanda before walking out of the room.

"So no team is the winner." declared Sam, disappointed. He stood up and walked behind Carol.

"According to my calculations, we'll have plenty of that to watch," Vision explained matter-of-factly. As Vision left the room with Wanda and Stephan. Loki and Bucky, meanwhile, still didn't get up from the floor.

A/N: My tag list is open, post in the comments if you want in it. And please also write me in the comments what you think of the chapter!

Tag-List: @silvers-hero-vault

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