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littlepadika · 3 years

Text

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

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The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

#frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #frankie morales x y/n #catfish morales #calling home series #i would die for frankie #frankie morales has a sexy voice #daddy!frankie

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gojology · 3 years

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Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

You’re beginning to hate Satoru. Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it. People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders. You don’t particularly hate him for this, though. It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone. It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back. Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it. So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month. “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room. Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones. Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?” “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.” Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?” Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-” “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work? Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is. He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?” He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-” Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.” Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?” It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults. “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?” He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him. “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.” Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place. “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket. “Looks just like you.” he says. You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching- “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you. “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?” You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it.. “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh. “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low. “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.” “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you? “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.” His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness? “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.” “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?” Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.” “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?” Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself? “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?” “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped. By none other than his lips. They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this. You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything. ‧₊˚✩彡. “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door. Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse. “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes. “What the fuck.”

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s1ater · 3 years

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highschool rivals, part one. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader believes hawk is fucking with her when saying he does karate, but he won’t prove otherwise, no matter how much she begs.

warning/s 🚫: swearing, UNEDITED, MAJOR CRINGE

slater’s note 🗯: au where robby and miguel and hawk are all friends. this is kind of a crack fic because reader really just wants to get punched in the face and it doesn’t make sense

part one, part two

hawk is a pussy.

that’s all you could think as you walked down the west valley high school halls, searching.

for what? hawk.

where? you didn’t know.

you didn’t even go to the high school but rather the private one on the richer side of LA, east high private school for exceptional girls. you had your school uniform still on, the blue plaid skirt they made you wear swished around your waist as you marched down the blue tiled halls.

the idea of finding hawk seemed to be a lot easier in your head then when it was put into motion, it was like you had completely dismissed the fact that you had never been in west valley high, and you had only met this boy two weeks ago.

you had been parked up on the north carige hills, looking over the city lights with your friends when a silver beamer with tinted windows pulled up and parked right next to you, three boys and their siloettes inhabiting the inside of the new looking car.

it wasn’t long till they rolled down the passenger side window causing a chain reaction of you and your friend who sat in the backseat to do the same.

it revealed a teenaged boy with spiky red hair and a loud looking smirk on his face, an angry red scar that resembled lightning struck up the tip of his top lip.

“how’re we doing this evening, ladies?”

“oh dear god,” your friend harper mumbled under her breath from the passenger seat, the only one without her window down.

you chuckled lightly, glancing at the already annoyed brunette, before drawing your attention back to the boy and his friends.

“fine,” you nodded in a more upbeat tone then your friend, “and you?”

“good,” he nodded his head before looking between his friends, “say, you up for some car hoping?”

the answer was obviously yes and as soon as it was offered, mia, your other friend, practically hoped out of the backseat and into their own.

“depends,” harper shouted over your shoulder before anyone made a move, “how much weed do you got in that nice car of yours?”

he rolled his eyes, looking back to the boy in the drivers seat, a boy with tan skin and hair gelled up like all teen boys. he was smiling, and then shrugged when the boy with the mohawk looked to him.

“just get in.”

the night felt like a fever dream. immediately after your exited your own car, locking the door, you were shoved into the lap of the mohawk boy, not literally but it all felt quick enough to be a shove in the situation.

there had seemed to be no space in the back, another boy and your two friends already seated and buckled.

harper smiled up at you innocently after rolling down the window, “oh no, whatever will we do?”

“you can sit on my lap, princess.”

you rolled your eyes, thinking about if you had never gotten into that car or sat on mohawk boys lap, you wouldn’t be in the stupid situation you were in now. and it wasn’t really a situation, but more of a problem.

the sound of your ringtone echoed from the inside of your skirt pocket, you grasped the rectangle shaped devise before sighing, seeing the contact name ‘mia’.

“hello?”

“are you actually here?”

you exhaled while pinching the bridge of your nose, “yes.”

“no way, y/n, you’re fucking crazy.”

mia went to west valley high unlike you and harper, she was considered ‘the public school trash’ of your friend group, a long going joke ever since freshman year for the three of you.

she had never met hawk or miguel or robby, the boys you had acquainted in the silver beamer. which wouldn’t make sense until you actually got to meet her and how antisocial she was until she was around you and harper.

she was ditsy, clumsy, but could never put herself in very confrontational situations unless you or harper were there.

“he’s a pussy, mia.”

“so you just showed up?” she cried as you nodded even though she couldn’t see you, her own head shaking back and forth in disbelief at how impulsive you could be with your decisions, “and now you’re going to kick his ass... just because he wouldn’t kick yours?”

“c’mon mia, there is no way this boy actually knows karate, and if he did, why wouldn’t he at least try me?”

“y/n, you’re crazy!” she yelled in your ear but then it’s real silent causing you to frown, narrowing your brows.

“mia, he’s a pussy.”

“y/n, you’re crazy,” she repeated, but this time in a whisper, “and you’re also a female... who he made out with.”

your cheeks redden and you pressed your phone closer to the side of your face out of consciousness. it made you roll your eyes at how easily self conscious and embarrassed you got just at the thought of him and his body pressed against yours.

“female, mia, female. it’s 2021, how sexist could he be?” you said after a long pause, completely skipping over the part of ‘who he made out with’.

“where are you-“ the sound of the bell made her stop mid sentence, her eyes tracing the clock, “wait, y/n, wait for me before you make anymore crazy decisions.”

you rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone without any hesitation.

people begun to fill the hallway, squishing you tighter and tighter until you felt like you were in an impact box.

and even in that tight impact box, you could make out hawk’s stupid red mohawk bouncing through the air as he walked the opposite way you did, completely oblivious to the path he was about to cross, and the large storm heading his way.

you grabbed onto his arm, yanking him into the flow of your river, surprising him as well as miguel, who was previously by hawk’s side... until he wasn’t. his head stuck out from the opposite side of the hall, shock and confusion written in his face as he kept walking, there would be no stopping in a high school hallway.

“what the fuck man- y/n?” he looked like he was about to swing and you almost wished he did, but he recognized you way too fast, “what’re you doing here, princess?”

“don’t ‘princess’ me,” you taunted, “punch me in the face.”

“what?”

“punch me in the face.”

“y/n, we’ve been over this,” he rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look at you, now knowing how ridiculous the conversation you were about to have would be.

“yeah a week ago,” you said, falling into step with him, and he looks over to you with a look of unbelievability, scoffing before looking away from you again.

“what?”

“you’re fucking crazy.”

“you’re the one lying about doing karate,” you say, looking up to him causing him to scoff again.

“why would i lie about that?”

“you tell me mohawk boy.”

“shut up, i’m not punching you in the face.”

“who even does karate anymore anyways?” you mumbled more to yourself then him as the two of you continued to hustle down the hallway.

“shut up, babe,” he mumble right back, “you’re just mad i won’t touch you.”

“shut up, you couldn’t get enough of me last week,” you shot back, almost wanting to look at him and glare, but you kept looking forward, keeping your composure.

“please, you were the one-“

“y/n!”

before hawk could finish his sentence, mia appeared from around the corner, her hands out lifted in the air as if to question why you were actually standing five feet away from her.

you rolled your eyes while hawk raised his brows in question.

“you’re actually crazy!”

“that’s what i’m saying.”

“y/n, i thought i saw your face,” miguel rounded the corner out of no where, his hands stuffed in his pockets while a small smile was printed on his face.

you look to all three of the teenagers that stood before you, your mind whirling around as you tried to comprehend the words that came spitting from their mouths.

“slow down,” you raised your both your hands, giving each of them pointed looks, “one, i’m not crazy, two, you’re the one crazy because you’re most definitely lying about doing karate, and three,” your face softened as you turned to miguel, giving him a smile, “hi miguel.”

he smiled back before laughing, his chest vibrating up and down, looking to hawk, “yeah, hawk, why you gotta lie like that?”

“shut up.”

“just punch me in the face.”

“no,” he practically yelled, glaring at you, “shut up.”

“why not?”

“because it’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard and if you don’t want to believe me, you don’t have to,” he rolled his eyes, waving you off, starting to walk down the hall again, only this time with miguel.

you could tell that he was increasingly getting annoyed, which could only be good for you. maybe he’d finally cave.

“so, are we hanging out this weekend?” miguel called back to you and mia, trying to break the awkward silence that settled over all four of you once you guys existed the high school and out into the parking lot.

“i don’t know, i might be busy,” you lied, and they all rolled their eyes to the obvious snark in the back of your throat, key to your lying.

“c’mon princess,” hawk began to mumble, “we all know you have no other friends.”

“shut up,” you stopped along with mia for you had reached her car, “at least i don’t lie about doing karate.”

miguel laughed to himself, leaning against a neighboring car as hawk looked at you with annoyance, shaking his head.

“bye, guys,” miguel nodded off to you and mia as he began to walk to his car, cuing hawk to walk with him, no longer feeling like entertaining a conversation about lies and karate and all the teasing that flew out of your mouth.

you waved goodbye, your lips pursed as you watch the red dyed hair boy walk off, your mind swirling at all the stupid things you had said in the past ten minutes.

“oh one more thing,” you watched hawk stopped short, turning back around and jogging back to you and then closer and closer then before, his mouth touching the crest of your ear, “you look really hot in your school uniform.”

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whack-ed · 4 years

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Never (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Synopsis: Y/N and Draco had a fight, and after so much time together, do they split up? Could it end like this? It is not in the personality of either to give up that easly.

Warnings: angsty; bad language; flyffy ending.

Reader: Female

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: That was an anonymous request, so that’s it, I hope you like it!

Taglist: @nebulablakemurphy @jamilelucato let me know if you want me to add you in my taglist ;)

Everyone at Hogwarts knew who Draco and Y/N were. Perhaps the most powerful couple in that school. The two commanded and disbanded in Slytherin. There was no student who was not even a little uncomfortable around them. But most preferred the two together rather than apart. Y/N could be very proud when something - or someone - inflicted her ego. Draco then, could be worse, he was never wrong. So knowing how the two would become more unbearable if they ever broke up, they preferred to put up with the green-colored monarchy they imposed on their house.

But unfortunately, for the bad luck of many, the worst happened. After being together since their fourth year, Y/N and Draco had broken up. Or is that what everyone thought. It was close to Christmas when it happened, thankfully, but It still had another month of real hell at Hogwarts. The ending was not even for such a relevant reason, but it seems that none of the two would take of your high heels to understand the other side.

“Look how ridiculous, I would be ashamed of being a hufflepuff and still be forced to wear a hair like that” Draco said as he passed a first year in the yellow uniform. Y/N who was on his side, looked at him madly. She never understood why Draco was so mean to others.

“Why do you do that, huh, Draco? The boy was doing nothing! You don’t have to be an asshole with everyone.” Y/N said with small signs of anger in hers speech. Draco stopped walking and looked at his girlfriend indignantly.

“Are you defending a hufflepuff, Y/N? What a pathetic thing.” He didn’t laugh like he did at the end of one of his sarcastic comments, since after all, this time he was talking very seriously.

“Hello? Pathetic?! Draco the boy was at most 12 years old! The school can already be difficult enough without a git filling the patience all the time!” People around there already beginning to look at the couple’s fight. Some frightened others curious, but no one threatened to get too close to angry Slytherins.

"Impressive. I didn’t know you liked people like that.” Draco made the best reproach face he could and looked Y/N in disgust. The girl’s blood boiled. Who does he think he was to be able to talk to her like that?!

“I thought you could have matured a little since your second year! But it looks like I was wrong. I always thought the way you implied with Potter was ridiculous, but I thought you could change, right, 16 years old Draco, you don’t need that anymore, right?” And Y/N didn’t contain a word, said everything she was trying to say for days, weeks, maybe months for her boyfriend, but she never found the right moment. And maybe, that one wasn’t either.

"Oh yes? If I’m mature enough why we’re still together then?! ” Draco screamed loudly, unintentionally, but everyone within a radius of at least 3km could hear. Some Slytherin students who passed close to them both had their fingers crossed to prevent what was going to happen. Y/N then raised her eyebrows, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She simply adjusted her uniform, and looked deep into the boy’s eyes, turned around and went on her way, saying nothing.

That had been a week ago, and since then, Draco had taken a vow of silence against Y/N. It was as if the girl just didn’t exist. At first it was kind of mutual, she also didn’t want to chat with him. But, apparently, she was the only one who had felt the slightest bit of regret about what they had done. After two weeks and still nothing, Draco continued to completely ignore the existence of Y/N. The girl, on the other hand, was never going to show that she missed him, although, as the days went by, she didn’t need to say with words what she was feeling, it was clear.

In a divination class, your partner was Blaise, the two of you were sitting at a table above Draco and Pansy. He always knew that you were a little jealous of the girl, since you two were never very good friends, and she always made it very clear that her fancies draco Draco. They were both whispering things and giggling right in front of Y/N. Her furious eyes at the two kept her from paying attention to what were the names of Jupiter’s moons.

"Why don’t you go talk to him already, Y/N?” Blaise said to the girl beside him, it was as clear as daylight that she was jealous.

“Me? Why would I talk to him? I don’t understand your points, you know” She said finally taking her eyes off Draco, since she had been discovered.

“You two are really unbearable, him acting like you don’t exist and you acting like you don’t care. Really pathetic. ” He leaned back and turned his attention to the Professor in front of him.

Y/N chose to ignore Blaise, he didn’t make sense in the girl’s opinion, he was just someone else who had a wrong opinion about her … Right?

***

The following days were nothing different, cute Draco with Pansy and Y/N hating any man. People were starting to get used to the idea that the most powerful couple at Hogwarts was no longer together, it seemed, and were relieved not to be as bad as they thought it could be. Some would dare say it was even better that way. The two without speaking for so long, even if therw was no official ending, it was easier to put up with. At the end of a long day, with two times of history of magic, Y/N has just returned to the common room.

She was beginning to think that after almost a month without speaking, Draco already considered her his ex-girlfriend. These thoughts haunted her for many hours, and she hated them deeply. He could be an asshole at times, but if there were people Y/N was sure to have a good heart, even if deep down, it was Draco. She really liked him.

As soon as the girl entered the common room, she caught a glimpse of Draco and Blaise talking near a pillar, and just passed by without wanting Draco to see her with teary eyes as the thoughts she hated so much were back. But even though she was passing fast, she couldn’t help but hear a comment from Draco “I’m telling you, Blaise, every day that I wanted that this git to have never come to Hogwarts, it’s incredible how I can’t stand being around without feeling rage” And the girl didn’t wait another second to run upstairs and drop the tears on her pillow. That was it, Draco wanted to end it all.

The next day was the most difficult of those last days. It seemed that everything around reminded her of Draco, it seemed that everyone around her was happly dating. If Y/N could choose a super power it would certainly be invisibility. At least she would have potions class today, her favorite subject, and yet she doubted she would pay any attention, last night had been filled not with snoring, but with sobs from crying.

She entered the potions room and went straight to the back table, she didn’t want to draw attention today. As Professor Slughorn was speaking, Y/N was more and more sure that the table looked very comfortable for taking a nap.

"Miss Y/L/N” Professor Slughorn called Y/N, the girl was far from waking up, several students were laughing quietly. He called her three more times before giving up and trying something different. “Well, guys, as I said to you, Amortenia is a very strong potion, probably the most dangerous in this room. And to prove it to you, I’m going to use it to wake up Miss Y/L/N. ” So the Porfessor put some of the potion in a bottle and took it open very close to Y/N, the girl in the same time woke up.

“What the …” She got up scared and looked around the room, looking for where this familiar smell came from.

“Can you share with the class what you smell, Miss Y/L/N?” Professor Slughorn asked.

“Hm… a woody smell, with a hint of mint and… chamomile shampoo.” The girl replied and everyone laughed, everyone in the room knew who was the only person at school who could have these three smells at the same time. Draco who was on the other side of the room, stared at Y/N with sad eyes. It seems that finally, after days, he realized who he was ignoring. Whose flowers did he smell when the professor opened the potion next to him. Seeing Y/N the way, holding back the crying, broke his heart into a thousand pieces. What had he done.

As everyone was laughing, and the Professor Slughorn without understanding nothing, let the girl go to the bathroom when she asked. He might not have understood why, but he knew that for some reason the smell that the girl felt made her very sad, since the girl had tears in her eyes.

“Professor, can I go to the bathroom too?” Draco asked the professor a few minutes after Y/N left. That’s when he understood everything. As soon as the boy got close to him, he felt exactly what Y/N had described. Slughorn may be not a student anymore, but as a good slytherin, he heard the gossip here and there. “Ah… Of course, of course, you can.”

Draco ran down the castle corridors after Y/N, she couldn’t have gone that far. He then stopped and thought for a minute, where could she be? And without much delay he got his answer. The boy ran to the bathroom where he was sure he would find Y/N, and he was right.

He heard it outside one of the cabins. “He doesn’t deserve you if he goes to treat you like rubbish!” Myrtle’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom, as no one came, it was normal for this to happen. Draco wasn’t sure why, but Y/N was the only person at Hogwarts who really enjoyed Myrtle’s company.

Unfortunately the conversation between the two did not last much longer, Draco made a lot of noise when entering the bathroom. Y/N without thinking twice, took her wand and stood by, that was what made the girl a first-rate Slytherin. "Who’s there?“

“Y/N, it’s me, Draco” The boy said coming closer to the cabin door where his girlfriend was.“Filthy fellow! Go away, don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Myrtle said flying over the stall with his arms crossed to look Draco in the eye. Naturally Myrtle was already scary, but sailing in anger instead of sad was worse than you can imagine.

“Go away, Draco” A much less aggressive and much more tearful voice came from the other side of the wooden door. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was crying a few minutes ago.“I just want to talk …” Draco put a hand on the door in front of him. “Ah! Briliant! Now do you want to talk? ” Myrtle replied angrily.“Can you let me talk to my girlfriend in peace, Myrtle?!” Draco replied angrily to the ghost that hung over him. Myrtle was going to give a very rude answer when Y/N interrupted her. “Myrtle, if you don’t mind, can you give us a little privacy?” Myrtle groaned in disapproval, but ended up diving through the pipes of one of the bathroom toilets.

“Well, since you decided to be so talkative, you can speek now"

"You can open the door, I mean that for you and not for an old wooden door” Draco grunted, still holding his hands on the door, holding it as if it could fall at any moment.

“No. Whatever you have to say, say it anyway” Y/N shrugged her feet over the toilet, she was sitting on top of the lid.

Draco sighed and leaned his head against the door. "I’m sorry, Y/N.” He sighed for another moment. “I was an idiot. Ignoring you was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done. And teasing you with Pansy was even worse, God that girl is a nightmare.” He vowed to hear a Y/N giggle muffled by the door. Then he turned on his back and stood there. “I … I really tried to be without you, but today in Professor Slughorn’s class, seeing you describe … well … what you described, just made me realize what I was doing, it was so … . bloody stupid. Look, I understand if you want to break up, I really was an asshole, but I needed you to know that I regretted talking to you that way, the same time I saw you walk away from me.” And he walked away from the door.

In all this time together, Y/N had never seen Draco be so transparent with what he felt. So he didn’t want to end, but what about the conversation with Blaise? Y/N opened the door and was faced with a very sad Draco. Definitely the girl had never seen him look so downcast. He let out a sad smile when he saw the girl with puffy eyes and red cheeks in front of him. It was incredible that she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"So you don’t want to finish things?" A hoarse voice came from Y/N’s throat. "Me? Finish? Never! Where did you get that crazy idea? ” Draco replied approaching the girl."I heard you talking to Blaise yesterday in the common room, about not being able to stand the thought of having me at Hogwarts…” She replied looking at her feet. Draco laughed through his nose.“I was talking about Potter, Y/N …” And came closer to the girl.

Now it was Y / N’s turn to laugh. “I should have known …” She finally hugged the boy in front of her by the waist. Draco smiled and looked deep into his girlfriend’s eyes. He was happy again. He felt complete. Having Y/N in his hands was like having the whole world to himself. Drunk with so much love, he didn’t wait another second to place a kiss on the girl’s lips. Was her. He knew she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

After breaking the kiss that shared so much passion, Draco said in such a low tone that only Y/N could hear, even if there was no one else there. “Promise me something?” The girl looked into his gray eyes, always liked the immensity of feelings that lived there, and agreed with the head. “Never walk away from me again, seeing you leave was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.” The girl smiled and placed another short kiss on his lips.

“Never.”

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #x reader #harry potter #fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #draco malfoy smut

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1engele · 3 years

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daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 6. high

Previous | Next

[warnings: SMUT (it's female receiving oral), weed]

"i think of you in colors that don't exist." — Watching Sal shift repeatedly in his seat and squirm uncomfortably the entire way home is almost comical. You watch him shorten the distance between his thighs and then spread them over and over again as he drives, smiling to yourself.

"Doing okay over there?" You ask, a giggly lilt to your voice as you sit still in your spot.

The feeling between your legs is still buzzing and the engine rumbling your seat beneath you is a bit.. overstimulating.. but you're decent.

"Hmm," he hums in response, squinting your way. "Stop baiting at me," he teases.

When you pull into the parking lot at Addison's Apartments, the both of you remain seated for a silent moment, after Sal pulls the keys from the ignition. The high from moments ago has dulled down, and you're left to soak in what exactly had happened.

Except you don't. You don't even think about what had happened—you barely meet Sal's eyes, nervously grin and reach for the passenger door handle. "Alright, see you tomorrow, let me know what your dad says, text me, goodnight!"

Before the blue-haired boy even has a chance, you've opened the car door, hopped out, and gently shut it behind you. You weren't looking for him to catch up to you, either—so you ran like mad into the apartment complex and took the stairwell instead of waiting for the junky elevator.

When you'd gotten home, you were light on your feet and tiptoed through the living room towards your bedroom. You'd took note of Sal's earlier tactic (taking his shoes off before he entered the apartment) and mirrored it.

When you'd finally gotten to your room, you collapsed onto your bed, comforter beneath your back, and stared up at the ceiling.

Your mind was blank. You couldn't even mentally conjure the words to describe what had just happened.

As you ran the earlier events through your subconscious, you remembered the feeling of his teeth and mouth on the flesh of your neck—and how he'd sucked on it until it hurt. You jumped from your bed, ran (lightly) to your bathroom, turned the light on, and peered into the mirror.

You pushed your hair from your neck—which was stuck to your skin from sweat—and gasped in horror at what you saw.

Sure, they weren't fully formed and hadn't reached their full potential, but those were hickeys. Blood red, slightly purple, forming hickeys. And, from what you remember.. you'd attacked his neck worse than he had to you.

The boy was practically translucently pale. You burned with shame at yourself because of the purgatory you'd subjected him to. He'd have to hide them for a week.

You closed your mouth after hanging your jaw open for 30 minutes and breathed out slowly. Despite the nightmare they'd be to hide.. it was almost nice to see on you. Something of him was left behind. At least you had something to remind you that what had played out tonight occurred and hadn't been a dream, or something.

You pressed your fingers on the marks and winced. They were sore.

After a shower—a cold, icy shower—you retreated into bed. You were so exhausted, you didn't dream.

What felt like moments later—you knew better to say it was, though, because there was early morning light shining through your blinds—you were jostled awake by a cold hand on your shoulder. You groaned, turning to the person and squinting.

"Mom?" You slurred tiredly, taking in Michelle's dim silhouette looming over you. You almost couldn't tell who she was at first before you'd rationalized that the only person who'd be shaking you awake in this ungodly hour would be your mother. Also, you could tell by the work uniform she wore. "Wha'?"

And although you were half-awake, your mind was rational enough to remind you to pull the covers up and conceal the bruises on your neck, which you knew had probably worsened.

"The school called," her words are like a bite. You expected this, but hearing her confrontation is sort of scary. "Not only did you receive detention yesterday, but you skipped it. You're lucky you weren't suspended—I had to lie and blame family emergency for your disappearance."

You didn't say anything, staring up at her and into her eyes.

"I can't believe you. You'll still be attending detention—they've rescheduled it for today. If you pull a stunt like this again, you'll pay the price, got it?"

You couldn't remember the last time she'd scolded you. It's not like you did much to warrant it. You never had someone before recently to play hooky with—or to cheat answers off of in class. You never had friends before.

"Okay," you reply, breaking away from her eyes and looking anywhere else. Eventually, her dark gaze rips from your face and she leaves the room.

You watch your bedroom door that she'd closed behind her—listen to the muffled shuffling and jangling of keys in the living room, and when she finally shuts the front door, you breathe out a sigh of relief and roll over onto your back.

And you smile. Because it's funny. Because she has no idea what you did with a boy last night.

You reach beneath the covers and fish for your flip phone (which you'd started sleeping on, a habit spawned from paranoia) and open it. You know it's early, but you slept before receiving any texts, so maybe...

There's nothing. He hadn't messaged you.

Eventually, you roll back over and give yourself another hour or two of sleep. It's too early to start getting ready.

When you woke up again, you got ready—threw on a black halter top, along with an a-lined, purpley-blue plaid skirt. Slid your feet into over-the-knee black socks and rolled them up your legs and to just below your thighs. Topped it off with a chunky black shoe.

After that, you spent a moderate amount of time on your hair and a little on your face.

You made it a point to wear flavored lip gloss. For no particular reason.

The hickeys were still a bit visible, so you topped off your outfit with an oversized denim jacket. You didn't think that much about it. Whether or not that was a mistake would be decided later. There wasn't much you could do—you didn't own all of the makeup necessary to cover them.

You meet with Sal in the lobby first. You approach him before he's noticed that you're even there—standing with his eyes on his feet, kicking the ground and toeing at nothing.

"Hi," you breathed, unsure of yourself.

His head raises. When he meets your eyes, the light fixture over you flickers. "I can see them," Sal says, stepping closer to you and inclining his head to examine your jawline and below.

The actual is a bit abrupt—you're momentarily started. That is until you've processed what he'd said.

"Yeah," you agree, shrugging. He looks back up at your eyes, his gaze widening. "I can't do anything about it."

He laces a hand through his hair and genuinely looks panicked. That's when you decide to examine him—and his neck.

"Holy shit, Sal," you breathe, a laugh of pure disbelief slipping off of your tongue. "You look like someone choked you."

Sal groans. "Yeah, pretty sure you used teeth."

"What're you going to do about that?" You choose to disregard his prior statement.

"I have an easy way out. I'll claim Travis did it yesterday. Super suspicious because I wasn't bruised this way at the time.. but-"

You meet his eyes with a deadpanned expression. Internally, though—it's almost humorous.. the fact that neither of you are even questioning what you'd done together. But you knew that would bite you in the ass. You'd only done what you'd done once—maybe it shouldn't happen again.

"I don't know, Sal." You press your lips together, smooth the gloss around. You taste artificial cherry flavoring on your tongue. "They look like hickeys."

"No one is going to believe I've been given hickeys, Y/N."

"They'll believe it whenever they see we've got a matching set!" You exclaim, meeting his gaze warily. You struggle a bit. Before, it felt so easy to make eye contact with him—but now you could barely lock eyes without looking away.

"Matching set?"

You jerk, breaking your staring contest with the floor and sliding your eyes upward. Larry was a few feet away, speedily approaching as his long legs closed the distance. Quickly, you split your hair in the back—separating it into two sections and placing one on either side of your face.

You watched Sal mess with his in the corner of your eye.

Nervousness made your heart drop what felt like ten stories when Sal spoke in reply. "Hey, Larry," he says. "Is Ashley driving again?"

"Uh, yeah," He replied, running lanky fingers through his lengthy brown hair. "'Was thinking we could all do something after school."

You hold your breath.

"Oh," Sal takes a moment to swallow thickly. "Y/N and I are doing detention—so we can't."

Larry's dark brows draw downward, casting a shadow over his deep eyes. He glances over at you, examines your face, and then locks eyes with Sal like he had been moments before. "Again? Didn't you guys do that yesterday?"

You decide to give your response this time. "Must've been a misunderstanding. We did go to it yesterday—we just, um.. have to do it again. Today."

Before he can further question the situation, you all hear the beeping of a car horn outside of the complex. It sounds familiar—it's Ashley's car. You all step outside.

Looking at the pale silver Ford Fiesta leaves you with mixed feelings. It's nice to look at—but now it just reminds you of the fact Larry tried to get into an altercation with Sal inside of it.

This time, Todd is in the back seat by himself. It's almost comical. You raise an eyebrow and look towards Ashley in the driver's seat. She rolls her window down and acknowledges you with striking green eyes.

"Shotgun?"

You almost feel bad for leaving Sal in the backseat, knowing he's probably on edge with those marks on his neck. But you can't help yourself as you run around to the other side of the vehicle and climb into the passenger seat beside Ashley.

"It smells great in here, Ash. I forgot to tell you that last time," you smile as you breathe in the familiar strawberry scent.

"Thank you!" She grins. "Yeah, I really like these car fresheners."

The guys get into the back seat—Sal's in the middle, having climbed in first, to Todd's left, and Larry entering last.

Once the doors are shut and all hands and feet are inside of the car, Ashley shifts gears and gets going. She looks to you, then throws a look over her shoulder toward Sal. "How was detention, troublemakers?"

Your eyebrows furrow, about of stupidity washing over you. Even having discussed this with Larry and Sal only moments ago, you've completely forgotten that they thought you'd attended detention.

"Huh-"

"It was great," Sal cuts in. "We sat for hours and did nothing. A lot of fun."

You come to realization quickly, and look up to meet Sal's eyes in the rearview mirror. He's shaking his head in lighthearted disappointment—a glint of amusement in his blue gaze.

"Yeah," your laugh trails off. "Sal couldn't sit still. It was funny."

You smirk deviously. That was an obvious reference to last night, on the way back to the apartments.

He meets your eyes once again in the mirror in front of you. "Don't bait at me," he warns, but you hear his grin. That's what he'd said when you'd laughed at him last night.

You smirked, shifting in your seat. You smelled cigarette smoke and guessed Larry was smoking again. It doesn't smell regular, though—smells a bit grassy.

"You're fogging up the car, Larry! It'll be your fault if we crash!" Ashley confirms your suspicions as she yells over the sound of rushing wind. He's rolled down the window—it fails to eliminate the smell but clears your line of sight.

"Sorry," he grins around a cigarette. It was nice to see him in a better mood.

"Have any of you decided on the plans for after school?" Todd speaks up for the first time day, absentmindedly fiddling with his flip phone. It's not any of your business, but you wonder who he's texting. Every time you see him, he's playing with his phone.

Larry laughs, pulling the cigarette away from his lips. "No. Thought Sal or Y/N would have some ideas, but they can't even go. They've got detention again."

Ashley looks toward you, awaiting your confirmation.

"We always had detention again. It was a miscommunication.." you trailed off, telling a lie. They didn't know that, though.

You watch Sal fiddle with his rings in the rearview mirror. "It's my fault, really."

You're not sure exactly what he means. He could be talking about the reason you'd even been given detention (attempting to share quiz answers) or maybe he was talking about the fact you'd even ditched detention—because he'd proposed it.

You disliked how easy he was to blame himself. You'd agreed to it.

And it wasn't something you found yourself regretting—not only had you received the pleasure of grinding Sal into oblivion in the driver's seat, but you'd came while you were at it.

Something you did regret, though... was doing that while you were so unsure of yourself—and what exactly it was that he wanted from you.

Not only that, but what did you want from him?

What was this?

"No, not really," you replied, after momentarily zoning out. "I agreed to it—to you... um- giving me those answers, Sal."

You hear his rings clack, keeping your eyes on the road, and on the broken white lines in the middle of the asphalt that pass beneath the car. You assume he's pressed his hands together harshly. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't proposed it."

This conversation wasn't really about test answers, was it?

You hear the crackle of a cigarette. No one else seems to assume anything about the conversation—just two people who refuse to blame the other person.

"The only thing I care about is the fact that you have to deal with the repercussions, Sal. I wouldn't care if it was just me having to do detention."

That shuts him up. He doesn't say anything after that.

"It's okay." You say, one last time.

After that (thank god) Ashley reaches towards the radio and turns to a channel. Heavy metal plays through the speakers—not too loud, though—and although it's a bit unsettling considering your mood, the distraction is welcome.

As soon as you've stepped out of the car in the school's parking lot, you regret the fact you hadn't worn a heavier jacket. The denim jacket is oversized, yes—but it's lightweight and breathable and you can feel the autumn wind fluttering against your skin.

Goosebumps rise on your arms. You involuntarily shiver.

You, Todd, Larry, Sal, and Ashley begin the walk inside of the school. You still smell smoke, and a glance to your left confirms that Larry is still smoking that cigarette.

"A teacher will see," you warn lightly.

"Eh, it'll be alright." He looks at you inquisitively and raises it toward you. When you meet his eyes, they're bloodshot. Your lips part in surprise.

"Are you... high?" Your gaze flickers to the cigarette again. Turns out, it's a joint. Larry is smoking weed. Figures.

He doesn't answer the question. It's not like he has to. Instead, he raises it toward you again, quirking an eyebrow questioningly.

You swallow the thick saliva that had begun to pool in your mouth and look toward the rest of the gang as they continue on.

"Why are you looking over there?" Larry calls you back from your reverie. You look up to meet his blown pupils again. "You don't need anyone's permission. If you want to smoke it, smoke it."

You bit your lip, raising a hand. Your digits twitched as you reached to pluck it from him. As you took the blunt away from his grip, and your fingers brushed, his eyebrows twitched upward.

Nervously, you inhale like you'd done with the cigarette. You don't feel it enter your lungs until you've ripped it away from your lips. You don't want this to go like the first time you'd ever smoked, so you hold it in. Those few moments feel like forever—but eventually, you cough, and allow yourself that relief.

You don't feel high, per se. You've only just smoked it, but it was a big draw, and you're already feeling the effects of lightheadedness.

Your head spins as you absentmindedly drag from it again. You don't realize how long you've been inhaling until lanky fingers have grabbed the blunt from you and pulled it away.

You blink slowly, looking up to Larry in confusion.

"Holy shit," his red eyes widen, before laughing comically. You find yourself giggling as well, experiencing a high that wasn't from weed—but from the rush of trying something forbidden and new.

"You're going to be so fucking high," he laughs again, passing a hand through his hair and looking down to the blunt. "It's... gone."

You can't even remember how long you'd been smoking that shit. How long had you been walking? How far back had Ashley parked?

Conveniently, as he examines the used-up joint, you pass by a green trash bin. He opens the lid and throws the useless blunt inside of it.

A few moments pass as you step onto the concrete leading up to the school. You vaguely feel Larry's large hand gripping your shoulder to steady you. Even though you felt a bit woozy, you remember to keep your hair in place, covering the hickeys Sal had left on your skin.

When you've stepped into the halls, the amount of people walking all around and bumping into you feels a bit overstimulating.

You hoist your bag tighter over your shoulder and follow after your friends. You feel Larry's arm bump into yours every so often, reminding you of his presence.

When you reach your locker, you put your books away, arranging them accordingly, etc. Once you've shut the locker door, hard enough for the cage to rattle—you sort of.. just- stand there. It feels like your consciousness is somewhere completely different, and yet all of this noise feels like too much.

Your heart is beating way too fast and it hurt to stand up straight.

It didn't feel bad—but you'd certainly rather snort salt and pepper than have to function an entire school day like this. You felt way too floaty, like everything was swaying—you honestly couldn't deter up from down.

You don't know where the rest of the gang is, and you're too high to care. You wander down the hall, and continue like that, even when the bell rings and everyone steadily begins to file off and into their respective classes.

Desperate to be alone, and sitting down somewhere, you find a door. It looks like the door handle is growing dust, and there are no signs or labeling on the wood. So you turn the handle and try your luck.

Of course, it's locked. Why else would a school keep an unused room unlocked?

You dig into the denim compartments of your large denim jacket, blinking away the blear in your eyes as you search between the seams at the pit of your pockets. Eventually, you find a stray bobby-pin. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you stick it into the keyhole and wiggle and force it accordingly.

There were multiple reasons you knew how to do this. Your mother used to accidentally lock you out of your previous flats. It wasn't a hobby you'd picked up—it was something you were required to learn. At least, so you wouldn't have to sleep in the hallway at night.

The door eventually gives. When you've entered, you find yourself in a storage room. It makes sense. All of the junk was stored here.

Still high as shit, and becoming a bit nauseous, you close the door behind you. That shuts out any light, and you feel a chill roll over your skin. You couldn't see shit.

You make haste as you reach into your pocket again and rip your flip phone out. You pop it open, and soon enough, your eyebrows raise in surprise. The messages are a bit unclear, but they're visible once you focus.

Sal :) Missed Call (2)

Sal :) where r you?

Sal :) i'm looking for you. class is about to start

Sal :) larry's gone too. you're with him?

Before you type out a reply, you use the phone's light to search the room for a light source of some kind. Eventually, you find a shaded lamp. You feel around for a cord, and once you've found it, you pull a bit. Thankfully, it's already plugged in.. somewhere.

You return your fingers to the lamp itself and turn it on. Soft yellow light fills the dusty room, and you sigh in relief.

You try to disregard the floating dust particles, and sink to the ground, pressing your back against a wide, wooden desk. As you adjust on the floor, the cold tile momentarily presses against your bare thighs. You breathe in sharply, allowing yourself a moment before going to reply to Sal.

You are you in class?

Sal :) No

Sal :) where are you?

You i'm not with Larry. m alone. DK where he is

Sal :) sure he's skipped to smoke. where are you

You allowed yourself to look around the dimly lit room before replying. You swore you felt the dust sticking to your skin, and the skirt hugging your lower half felt too tight.

You shakily breathed in, and then breathed out. You repeated this process, shaky fingers gripping the phone tightly.

You bobby-pinned my way into some storage room i'm sitting on the floor so high rn lol

Sal :) i know where that is. coming rn . it's at the end of a hall, right?

Sal :) what did you smoke?

You blinked slowly, wiggling your thighs back and forth.

You you're correct.

You smoked weed

Before you could comprehend what was even happening, the door directly in front of you had opened. You blinked as white light constricted your pupils before they returned to their expanded state as the silhouette closed the door. While he did that, you reached up to the desk, slid a drawer open, and placed your phone inside of it.

You could've just put it in your pocket. You didn't know why you didn't.

He sunk to the floor in front of you, sitting criss-cross applesauce. His shoes were a breath from yours as you hugged your bare knees tightly. Your lazy eyes followed his movements as he clasped his hands around his ankles. He seemed to be watching your eyes—because when you looked up to make eye contact, he'd already been looking.

"Can barely tell what your eye color is," Sal says nervously. "Your pupils are blown."

"Is' just the dark," you chide softly. "I'm fine. My heart's just beating really fast."

"How much did you smoke?" He asks, his blue eyes—ever vibrant, even in this dingy lighting—searching your face. "Larry gave it to you, right? Jesus.."

You genuinely think about it. It seems you think about it too hard because the room began to rotate.

Maybe that wasn't just the high. You'd fallen onto your side. Luckily, you'd been sitting already—so it was a gentle collide with the cold tile. It felt nice against your cheek. You closed your eyes and watched the floating colors and shapes that look like nerves flash across the backs of your eyelids.

You fully press your side against the floor snuggling into it like it's the softest blanket you've ever slept with.

"Hot," you breathe. "Get this jacket off."

Soon enough, you feel purposeful hands sliding the denim off of your arms. It takes effort to get it off of the arm beneath you, but Sal manages. He balls the jacket up and slides it beneath your head. When your cheek meets the cool denim, you feel at total peace.

"Better," you open your eyes. He's watching your face. You can tell he's concerned, but there's something in his gaze—a look that tells you that he knows he's got this handled. He was confident in himself to take care of you.

He's probably experienced this before.

You roll onto your back, holding your eyes open to look up at the ceiling. Your eyelashes ghost your eyebrows as your imagination forms clouds in the shapes of the floating things you see.

Your skirt rides up your thighs a bit. You don't pay attention to it until you feel Sal's ring-clad fingers gently fixing it for you. You look at his face and smile.

"We need to do it again," you mumble. You don't feel the sickness of the high anymore—only complete clarity.

"Do what?" He asks, curiosity lilting his words.

"What we did in the car."

After those words roll off of your tongue, all that meets you is the intaking of breath. It's so quiet in this storage room that you can hear him licking his lips. You hear shuffling, the clacking of rings, and your breath—and for a moment, you believe he won't say anything back to you.

"I," he starts, swallowing hard. "You.. when do you.."

"How about now?"

You grin, meeting his eyes. He blinks a few times.

"Y/N, I-" he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh. You don't know if he feels nervous—or he just genuinely cannot believe this is happening. You wouldn't blame him, because you can't process it, either.

It's the weed boosting your confidence like this.

Then and again, you'd been confident with him during your first sexual encounter. Maybe the high just amplified that.

"As much as I'd like to," he starts, voice tight, "I don't know how well walking around the rest of the day having... uh— would go. I know it'll happen. We've got detention to sit in, too."

You pouted sadly but accepted it. He didn't want to, and that was fine.

"But, I, um.." his eyes flickered across your face. "I could go down on you."

The words surprised you so much you jerked upward and into an upright position. Your shock had also made you a dumbass, it seemed, as well—because you smacked your head straight into the wooden drawer you'd left open, which you'd put your phone in not even a few minutes ago.

"Ow," you winced, hand reaching up to rub the sore spot.

"Holy shit," Sal says, now closer to you. He closed the drawer (something you should have done way earlier) and blinked down at you. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you breathed, meeting his gaze. "You'd.."

His eyes shifted to the left momentarily. "Yeah. If you don't want me to, that's fine. Your decision. I mean, I have no experience, besides things I've heard before."

You felt a bit giggly all of sudden. Your forehead was pulsing but it was fine. "I can always teach you. I mean, I've never had someone go down on me but I know what feels good."

Sal's demeanor seems a bit nervous as he glances around the storage room. "You want this to happen in here?"

You let out an abrupt laugh, holding your upper body weight on your elbows and arms. "Yes."

He chuckles along with you. "Alright."

Once again, you thank whatever intuition it is you have for swaying you into choosing to wear a skirt again today. You feel Sal's eyes burning holes into your skin as you grip the hem of your skirt and pull the material of your skirt higher on your thighs until it's bunched up at your hips.

His eyes—which, moments ago, were so blue and clear—had now grown a bit darker and looked as though a shadow had been cast over their pretty sheen.

"Did you lock the door when you came in?" You breathed, the ache between your thighs painful as he stares you down.

"I don't think it locks from the inside. We'll have to make it quick."

You're heart's never beat this fast before. And it keeps crashing against your ribs when he slides his fingers up your legs. He pulls your knees away from each other, and shifts so he's a bit farther between your legs.

You watch him slide every silver ring off of his digits, collecting them in a palm and sliding them onto the wooden surface of the desk beside him.

Your blood pumps in your ears so loud you feel like your brain is going to explode. That is, until you feel the pressure of the pads of his fingers right between your thighs, over the fabric that separated his fingertips from the burning heat there. Every other sense diminishes as your entire body focuses on what you'd just felt.

You instinctively gasped, never having been touched so intimately before.

You can tell he's shocked, barely having to glance at his face. You know he's nervous, but you don't believe he has reason to be.

"You're.."

"Wet?" You finish the sentence for him shyly, feeling completely dirty about insinuating something like that out loud. "The fabric is thin, but.."

"I haven't even done anything," he murmurs.

"Yes, you have," you reply, giggling quietly through your chest. "You're torturing me. Get on with it."

His hands shake as he reaches his hands behind his head and unclasps the buckles that hold the prosthetic onto his face. Before you can even take him in, he's turned the lamp above you off.

It's completely dark in the room.

"Can I.."

You know what he means when his hands brush the sides of your thighs. "Yes," you reply, instantly.

Sal hesitates. "Are you sure?"

You smile to yourself. "I am. Are you?"

"Absolutely," he mumbles, hooking his thumbs around the lace of your underwear and pulling it down your legs. You can't hear your heart anymore, thank god—you can only feel it. It beats unmercifully against your ribs as he daintily finishes sliding the fabric off of your body.

Sal barely moves after that. You guess he's put your panties in his pocket.

Before you know it, he's flattened the tip of his middle finger on the place between your legs. You shakily sigh as he barely dips a finger into the place your dampness had collected. He then slides his digit upward, spreading the wetness up and through your slit.

You know what he's doing—preparing you for what's to come—but you can't help it when his touch ghosts your clit. It takes a lot of self-control not to clamp your thighs around his hand—so you hold yourself back with a whine.

Sal stops when you make the sound, but his touch remains. "There?" He asks lowly—like now you're more at risk at being caught. There's no way, though. When you'd picked the lock, the doorknob seemed like it hadn't been used in forever.

"Yes," you whisper, barely lifting your hips to press into his hand. He uses more fingers this time—passing them through your wetness again. Eventually, he makes it back to that bundle of nerves, and gently circles it. You feel your gut tumble as he presses on it just eight.

"God, please," you sigh, settling on your back and raising a hand to grip at your hair. "Sal, I want-"

"Okay," he murmurs. You hear shuffling, feel him move. You know he's lower when his hair tickles the flesh between your thighs.

His breath fans over the apex of your thighs. You'd expect breath of this proximity to be hot—but it's cold and feels minty. It makes sense. That's how he smells—and whenever you'd kissed him last night, that's how he'd tasted.

What broke you from your musing was the feeling of his warm tongue flat on your sex. You throw your head back, dropping your jaw. You'd been waiting this whole time for that feeling—and now you'd gotten it.

Your skull feels like it's rattling (you had just thrown your head back and into the hard flooring) but you disregard that and focus on everything else.

"F-fuck," you stutter, as he rolls his tongue up and over your clit. You knew his memory was basically photographic—but you didn't realize he'd be able to find that spot every time.

He flicks his tongue over your clit in a way he hadn't been like he was experimenting. And it worked because you'd cried out and reached between your thighs to grip his blue hair.

He pulls away from your sex, exhales cool air onto the junction of your thighs and pants. "Gonna need to be quiet," he reminds you, his voice thick.

"I'm sorry," you swallow, before feeling him duck back down.

You shiver in anticipation as his mouth closes over the slope of your inner thigh, sucking onto your skin. You whine as he nibbles your flesh, barely closing his teeth over it before pulling away and returning to what he'd left.

Your spine arches off of the painfully hard floor as he closes his lips over your cunt again, flattening his tongue again and rolls it upward and back into his mouth.

It's not like he has a technique—he's just reacting to your reactions.

Your eyes are watery and fill with tears as you close them too tightly. Your fingers interlace with his hair, gripping close to his scalp and pulling just a bit. He hums in acknowledgment against your clit, and you feel that coil that had been steadily tightening in your gut began to tighten excruciatingly.

"Close," you breathe. "Please. Gonna cum."

Surely enough, he smiles into you, passes his tongue through your slit one last time before flicking it over your clit, and with purpose. He feels your legs spasm against his shoulders, so he flattens his tongue over the bundle of nerves.

That's when that coil in the deepest pit of your stomach unraveled.

"I'm coming," you whined. The feeling stuttered, you felt like you were teetering off of a cliff before it finally crashed over your body and through you harder than anything you've ever felt before.

He rode you through your orgasm—and it was hard not to clamp your thighs around his head.

"Fuck," your legs twitched as you came down, sighing as he pulled away from your sex. He panted, taking in the air quickly, before reaching up and turning the lamp on.

You met his eyes, pressing your thighs together as they shook.

"Oh my god," you exhaled, allowing yourself to soak in your shock. You watched him lick his lips before passing the back of his hand over them.

Sal seemed a bit lost for words himself. "Was that- um.."

You sat up—hiking your skirt back down with one hand while catching him by the nape of the neck with the other. You captured his mouth with yours, kissing him with fervor and want and appreciation. It took less than a second for him to reciprocate.

You didn't care if you could taste yourself on his tongue—it didn't matter much. It wasn't even bad, thank god.

After passing your tongue over his lip, you pulled away, eyes wide with shock. "I should.."

"I know what you're going to say," he cut you off, reaching into his back pocket with a smile. He hands you his underwear, and you close it in your fist. "And I'm alright. We've spent way too much time in here, anyway."

Your knee accidentally nudges between his thighs. Of course, he's hard. He was a teenage boy and he'd just made a girl come in a dingy old classroom at school during class. You felt bad.

"Another time." It's not a question. You're promising it to him.

"I.. okay." He murmurs, nervous in a way he hadn't been when he'd been eating you out moments before.

You watch him slide his rings back on, buckle his prosthetic back onto his face—and pretend not to notice how he adjusts himself as he stands up. You slide your denim jacket back on, slide your panties up your legs, and move to stand. You nearly fall back down when your legs spasm.

"Are you okay?" He asks, concern dripping off of his low voice.

"Fine. A little shaky," you breathe, gripping his arms and rising to your feet. You let go of him a few beats later and move toward the door. You forget your phone, but Sal grabs it for you and slides it into your pocket.

And as the both of you go to leave, you think about how the rest of the day will play out.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

238 notes · View notes

fluffi · 3 years

Text

MY DETENTION BUDDY :: JAY

pairing: jay x gn!reader genre: fluff, badboy!jay, highschool!au, friends-enemies-lovers!au word count: 2k event: for @lovesick-net and (early) jay day 200421 <3 author’s note: simple little one-shot for jay’s birthday (i wont be uploading anything for his actual birthday). i had to speedrun this fic because i kept changing the plot and this hasnt been proofread twice (unlike my other fics) T-T i hope it’ll still work out. warnings: (reader makes one bad decision)

Ring...ring...ring...ring..ring…

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring

Ringringringringiringringringring.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRRI-SLAM!

The alarm clock stopped its boisterous wailing

10 more minutes. I don’t have to style my hair today.

Thirty minutes passed.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRI- SLAM!

Ugh. I’ll just miss assembly.

RIRIRIIRRIRIRI-

This time, the ringing stopped before he could slam his hand over the alarm clock.

“Jongseong, do you not have school today?” Jay could only make out a bush of black that stood above him as he sat up, dazed and drowsy.

“Yeah, I do. I’m about to get ready. Why?”

“It’s 9 am! You should be at school! At this point, you don’t even have to go anymore.” His mother huffed in disappointment.

It was an exaggeration, but she had a point. School started at eight in the morning. It was already an hour later but he was still sitting in bed.

“I’ll get ready now. 10 minutes. Good to go.” He shooed his mom away, already running to the bathroom to wash up.

“I’m leaving now Jay. You know darn well that I have an important meeting today and I can’t miss it just for you to not get a tardy. Heck, you’re already late! You’re-”

“Mom! I can’t walk to school! It takes too long.” Jay whined as he brushed his teeth, his muffled voice interrupting his mother’s speech.

“Young man, stop interrupting me. I told you a week ago about today’s event and it’s not my fault that my oldest son can’t take care of himself. You’re going to have to take another mode of transport, you’re old enough to deal with this yourself!” With that, his mother stormed out of his room, her feet obnoxiously thumping on the floor.

“I’m also your only son...” Jay muttered.

Of all days, why did she have to have her meeting today? Monthly evaluations aren’t that important. Dangit, I should’ve been taught how to drive. Jay returned to his rapid multitasking, grabbing his school uniform while washing his face. He didn’t even look twice,

After taking the quickest shower he had ever taken in his entire life and shoving all of his essential (what he determined as essential, at least) belongings into his bag, he opened to door and dashed outside only to be met with…

Rain.

Rain everywhere. Drenching the front yard’s perfectly tended flower garden and creating heaps of watery mud. It was pouring at 9.15 am. There was thunder and occasional flashes of light zooming through the clouds. The city was in shambles.

Not like, shamble, shambles. It was shambles in Jay’s opinion as he groaned and stomped his way through the rain.

Screw school. Screw this stupid rain, screw my alarm clock, screw this-

“Dude, why are you running in the rain? You’re soaked. Are you heading to school?” A pink-haired boy in a red Ferrari shouted from across the street.

Jay sighed in relief, immediately running across the road to said Ferrari. “Choi Yeonjun. You are a life-saver. Could I get a ride real quick? I’ll pay back for engine fees and for soaking the inside of your Ferrari with rainwater.”

“Hop right in, and don’t worry about returning. Let’s have some fun with this baby.” Yeonjun smirked and revved the engine, swerving past cars and buildings like it was a little RPG game.

At this rate, I’ll make it to school in no time.

“Dude, I’m so sorry. I guess you have to walk.”

Just as he thought things were taking a better turn, Yeonjun decides to show off his new driving skills and zooms through roads at a rapid speed, so fast that he crashed the car by a tree. It was a miracle that both of them didn’t get hurt but as far as Jay was concerned, he could worry about that some other time. This was just slowing him down on his long and tedious journey towards his form of hell.

On the bright side, the rain had stopped and the sunshine was back as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll get going to school.” Jay internally groaned and started sprinting in the direction of his school.

“Hey, at least I helped you get closer to school! Didn’t I?” Yeonjun shouted from behind and coyly smiled.

Such a boastful punk, Jay thought. “Whatever, bro!” He turned back and gave his older friend a quick wave before dashing off.

“Park Jongseong! You’re late...again.”

“I’m aware.” Jay didn’t spare his English teacher an eye and slung his backpack over the chair, about to take a seat.

“Stop giving me attitude, I’m your teacher.Why are you tardy for the fourth time this month?”

“Alarm clock.”

“Alarm clock what? Are you afraid to speak up? I don’t see you acting like this in the hallways.”

Jay looked down at his feet and sighed before side-eyeing his teacher. “Overslept, okay? Sir if you could just let me off the hook you would be able to proceed with your Shakespeare nonsense.”

The entire class snickered. It was no secret that Jay loathed Mr. Jung, the English teacher. Who didn’t? Mr. Jung treated every student in school like they were incapable toddlers and it was a wonder that anyone would dare to stand up to his stupid remarks. Jay’s carefree attitude towards his horrible teachers was one of the reasons why he earned so many fangirls.

Not like you were one, of course. You watched as he pulled his chair out and sat next to you out of the three other vacant seats at the back of the class.

Mr. Jung rolled his eyes and continued writing on the blackboard. “Also, Jongseong,” he added, “you’re wearing your school shirt the wrong way round. See you in detention for your tardiness.”

A few of the girls in a few seats in front of him whispered rapidly, although whispering didn’t stop Jay from finding out about their gossip.

“Lol! So much for being the bad boy of our grade. He looks like a wreck today.”

“I know right? I wonder what the other fangirls will think of this. Should we send the pictures to the fan club?”

The second girl giggled. “Yeah, duh. Name it jay-park-wreck-images.”

So much for my reputation. Jay could only roll his eyes as he pulled out his supplies, ignoring the camera clicks coming from the seats in front of him.

“Oh, yay. At least I’ll have a detention buddy now.”

Jay eyed you up and down like your statement was some sort of monstrosity. “Detention? You, detention? Pfft.” He laughed.

“Yeah, Jay. Me, detention. Why are you so happy about it? Glad to be stuck with another girl?”

“What, no-no. You just...don’t seem like the type to be in detention. How’d you get it?”

“This..may be kind of embarrassing, but...” You turned to the side and Jay gasped.

On the sleeve of your uniform was a...rabbit? It wasn’t too obvious as to what the marker doodle was but it was apparent that you had intentionally spent time to draw on it.

“Look, I was bored in assembly this morning and found a spare marker in my pocket! Don’t judge, we all know how bad assembly can be.” You blurted just as Jay was about to ask why you had done what you did.

“You could’ve just drawn on your hand or done something else with the marker.” Jay sighed and shook his head at your dumb decision.

“I was out of my mind, okay? Ugh, Assembly always drives me nuts. I got called out for for the horrendous ink bleed when Mr. Jung saw as I walked into the classroom. He said it ‘didn’t follow school guidelines’.”

“For once, I agree with Mr. Jung. It was a stupid choice, you know? If you didn’t draw on your uniform then you wouldn’t have to go to detention now.”

“Jay Park, the bad boy of school, is telling me to be a rule abider. Biggest twist of the century.” You rolled your eyes.

Jay frowned and turned back at you, losing that little spark in his eyes that he once kept. “I’m not a bad boy you know? I just don’t like the system in place here.”

“As if anyone is going to believe that. Go hang out with another girl of yours. I’m not here to be your toy.”

“People like you are the reason why everyone thinks I’m a bad person. I thought you were different, you know?”

You had been preoccupied with taking notes for class, but now you looked at him with squinted eyes. “Well, I am different. Different as In someone who doesn’t fall for your useless charms. Go suck up to your fangirls or something.”

Jay rolled his eyes and scooted away from you. He thought he had been lucky to meet you, but he guessed not.

You always do this, you idiot. You were so close to making a new friend.

You put your hands in your head and side-eyed Jay, who seemed to be struggling as Mr. Jung blurted out an entire unit’s summary.

The boy hadn’t brought any stationery and was definitely on the wrong page of the textbook. You figured that he was this disheveled from his absolute lack of planning but you still felt bad.

His hair was a mess, it was still damp from the rain before. If only you could help him style it…

Why do I want to touch his hair? That’s weird and gross.

You were so occupied with thinking about Jay that you realized that he was still struggling in class.

Maybe you could make things better.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay was struggling to find the page you guys were on for class when a pencil blocked his view.

“What do you want?” He said as he tried to look past your pencil swinging.

“It’s a pencil for you since I realized that your table is practically empty and you’re going to need something to take notes with for later. Also, it’s page 153, not 53.” You leaned over to help him flip the pages.

“Oh, that makes so much more sense. I was wondering why we were relearning unit 3 when finals aren’t even near yet.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking up at a relieved Jay. “So you do pay attention in class.”

“Of course I do! I’m a student. You should stop using that stereotype on me.” Jay frowned and a tinge of disappointment shadowed his face.

“Right, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it, it’s rumors and assumptions that have built up over the past few years and I understand that it shouldn’t get in the way of our friendship.”

“Friendship? We have a friendship?” Jay chuckled and cocked an eyebrow up, teasing you.

Maybe it was that eyebrow slit or the weird tension that was building up between the both of you. You felt your face heat up. “I mean- yeah, friendship. Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, hun. I thought we were something more.”

“Um...best...friends?”

It was perfect timing as the bell rang and you immediately started packing things into your bag, eyes glued to the clock instead of the amused boy next to you.

Jay laughed, running his hands through his blonde locks and watching as you started running out of class, your eyes occasionally looking back at him to see if he was still staring at you.

“See you in detention!” He called, drawing the attention of your classmates.

Jay Park needs to learn how to shut his mouth. Everyone was now staring at you and you were flustered, embarrassed, shocked, and confused. The weird mix of emotions were driving you nuts. All you could muster was a little nod and you dashed out of there as fast as you could.

“Today we’re going to learn about Murphy’s Law. It is where anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

“But everything that can work, will work.” Jay raised his hand and added, sparing a glance at you jotting notes in the back of the classroom, oblivious to his reference towards you.

“You’re right Jay. Murphy’s Law works both ways. Reversing it is considered part of science…”

Today morning was a storm (figuratively and literally) and everything seemed to be going wrong for Jay. Murphy’s Law prevails. but there’s always a rainbow after the storm. You were his rainbow and his lucky charm.

2021 © fluffi

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aka-ashi-keiji · 3 years

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Hi love ! Here is my Shouto Todoroki OS request, quite simple, yet deep: in your opinion, what would it take for Shouto to actually comprehend, then acknowledge his feelings for reader ? Like, I love Slow burns and I think Todoroki's character is perfect for this kind of development. But I wonder how many time it would take him to realize what has been growing in his heart for who knows how long, in a canon way?

Or, to put it in a simple way: How long does it take to Todoroki to come to terms with his feelings, and what does he do about it ? How ?

Here it is, you're absolutely free in this request (But please give us a happy ending with lot of Fluff eidkdud). Thank you so much in advance, ILY ❤💖

Love Made of Broken Iron

Shoto Todoroki

Understanding love, best friends to lovers

One shot, soft angst to fluff

tw: mentions of child abuse.

a/n: this is for one of the kindest mutuals i have! @luluwiie i hope you love this, it was challenging but so so so much fun. hopefully this fulfills your gorgeous request. i love you!

You waited patiently on the porch as your uniform skirt moved with the early morning wind. The cherry blossom trees had just started to bloom and that fact alone was enough to warm the tips of your frozen fingers as your smile crept to your face. But nonetheless, you were freezing and it seemed as though your companion was running slightly behind schedule. You checked the time on your phone and just like you suspected, Shoto was running 5 minutes late to meet you outside his house.

“God shoto, how long does it take you to slip on a uniform?” You huffed out as you placed your phone back in your pocket and turned to knock on the front door. However, before you even got the chance to, it swung open and duel chromatic eyes stared back into yours.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I made us sandwiches for lunch.” He greeted you in his usual calm but hard front demeanor. Instead of commenting about how cold you were and that he should’ve made lunch faster, you simply took it and placed it in your bag. With that, you both started your commute.

You and Shoto have known each other since you were young, but due to his own family issues you both had just recently become friends. As a child, you always admired his splitone features and the way his eyes lit up in two separate ways when he was excited. At age five, you thought he was cool. But now at age seventeen, you can’t help but think he’s absolutely and utterly gorgeous.

Shoto had accepted your companionship your first year of highschool. Both of you always seemed to keep to your desk and shy away from the large groups, that similarity between you two caused you to naturally gravitate towards him. Asking for his number and inviting him to get coffee with you after school was single handedly the scariest but best idea you have ever committed to. Because if you hadn’t done that, if you had just let that day during your first year continue as always and gone to get coffee by yourself, you wouldn’t be where you are right now.

Currently, Shoto is walking on your right, he always insisted on doing so, just so that he could put some distance between you and the street. Your hands wrapped themselves securely around his forearm closest to you, trying to draw from his warmth. Well, that’s what you told yourself. But, in all honesty you just wanted an excuse to be close to him, to connect to him.

It was embarrassingly obvious how in love with Shoto you were, everyone seemed to notice except for him. And you weren’t the only one to take notice of his beauty and fall for his contrasting features. However, with you it was different, you knew that your romantic feelings couldn’t be grouped together with all of his other admirers. You didn’t fall in love with Shoto just because he was beautiful, but because you were able to connect to him and see past that iron wall he fights so hard to keep up.

Slowly, over the past three years at UA, you found yourself becoming immersed with your own feelings, not entirely sure how to deal with them. Your first year wasn’t too bad, you felt the normal butterflies when he would pat your shoulder when you did something well, one of his only signs of affection. And your cheeks still dusted rose as he would greet you in the morning and compliment something about your hair or the way you wore your uniform. But your second year was drastically different. You had a mere teenage crush on Shoto during your first year, but the amount of time you spent with him the summer after allowed for your feelings to expand to new points you didn’t know your heart was capable of feeling.

The intensity of your love spread like wildfire with every passing day you spent with him in the summer air. You’d find yourself growing overly excited about study sessions you would normally dread due to you thinking summer was your time for a break. And you personally hated silent reading with people around, the silence was uncomfortable. But sitting next to Shoto in your own home, you both on the couch with your legs over his lap, the books you read in silence on those days, that silence was comfortable then.

And if your legs weren’t over his lap, your head found its way to his shoulder or his would fall to yours. His peppermint hair sweeping to the side and tickling the nape of your neck and also covering his observant eyes. But no matter how subtle the touches were, no matter how brief the physical connection, the fire within your heart only blazed warmer.

Shoto was notorious for keeping his distance, but he let you get close. He allowed for you to take part in his interests and he took time to explain to you what he feels and why these things bring him so much joy. He let down his iron wall with you, even if it was just a little. But eventually, you learned what that iron wall was hiding. You come to understand why he’s afraid of boiling water and why he flinches so hard when you hug him without warning. You learned the heart-wrenching story of the scar that covers his sapphire eye, and the damage that it caused and still tolls on him today. You now understood why he always insisted on hanging out with you and anywhere outside of his home. And knowing you could provide that sanction for him ignited your heart’s flames all over once more.

Deep down you wanted so badly to expand your connection to him beyond just friends, but something stopped you. This ‘something’ was so definite, it felt nearly physical. It was as if an iron wall stood between you two.

Shoto had never shown any romantic interests in you, but then again he never took notice of anyone in that sort of way. No matter how many girls threw themselves his way, or when countless guys tried to catch a sliver of his attention, he barely even glanced in their direction. And it wasn’t because he was trying to be rude or blow them off. He genuinely just couldn’t tell when someone was trying to flatter him, his social skills still not up to speed. Shoto was capable of feeling, he just wasn’t sure if he should feel.

You knew this first hand, all the hints you dropped about the flames in your chest never were picked up. He simply believed you were platonically complimenting him, that iron wall still plastered around his heart. And no matter how rapid your feelings grew, the fear of rejection always halted your confessions. You loved Shoto so deeply, but you cared for the strength of your guys’ friendship to a much more powerful extent.

One night during finals week of your second year, you and Sho had been studying nearly all day. It was a Saturday and it was around 10:30 at night. You personally were hungry and Shoto himself said he could go for a snack. A late night soba vender had just opened up down the street, seemed like the perfect spot. So you both threw on sweaters over the sweatpants you had sat in all day, texted your parents since they had already gone to bed, and just like that you and shoto were walking down the dimly lit street through the quantum hours of the night sky.

The stars were scattered abundantly that night, the chill that went through your spine with every gust of wind went merely unnoticed due to the night’s beauty. Your hand clutched Shoto’s bicep, he insisted on it as a precaution. It made you feel safer as well, knowing abductions had been more frequent and took place mainly at night. But along with the security it provided, it also warmed you from the inside. The manifestation of love in your heart turned to flames, and the flames seemed to ignite your senses and tint your cheeks pink. By your luck, Shoto didn’t notice any of this, he never noticed how flustered you became when you shared these small touches that seemed to break that iron wall. But, maybe that was for the better.

You guys had ended your commute to the soba vendor, seating yourselves at the counter and ordering respectively. Shoto had insisted on paying since he somehow managed to swipe his father’s credit card, but if it was Enji’s money, you really couldn’t mind. By the time you each had finished up your meal, the time was nearly 11:45. Your walk home was slightly more eventful than the first time around, you decided to take a detour through a park near a quiet pond.

Shoto’s feet dragged after yours all while you tugged his arm as you nearly skipped to the water's edge. You had a slightly more pep in your step than he himself, but that was nearly symbolic of you and Shoto. You two were nearly identical in the way you always held a calm expression, your short but precise remarks, and even in the demeanor you both present when you become even the slightest bit irritated. These similarities manifested from the tough love in which you were raised with, Shoto’s father being mainly all tough and no love. Your parents drilled it into your mind that anything less of perfection was utter failure. But the love he lacked, you still received to some extent as a child. and that’s what set you apart. You had the ability to skip through the night and feel the joy of the starlight reflecting off your eyes, Shoto simply watching and observing your ecstasy. Not entirely processing a feeling he sees now, but has never felt for himself.

Both you and Shoto came to a standstill at the edge of the water, barely any words had been exchanged since you left the soba vendor. The shoes you both wore began to sink into the sand of the bay. You leaned over the edge, Shoto mimicking your actions. Your reflections on the water surface rippled by the Koi fish that swam beneath. The light the stars cast onto their scales bounced back and onto Shoto’s eyes. His focus connected to the fish as it swam down stream and your reflections became whole once more. While his gaze never shifted, you found yours following the change of his features. You watched through the mirror of water as his eyebrows relaxed, the corners of his mouth weren’t pulled tight, but instead they tugged upward in the most subtle of ways. The flames erupted once more, rising from the ashes like wings of a phoenix, the feeling of love you forced yourself to keep inside was fighting back against your will. You averted your gaze in hopes the heat rising in your chest and your face would subside, but even though you stood at Shoto’s right hand, that wasn;t enough to cool the flames. He noticed your sudden change of focus through the movement reflected on the water, and that's when his focus shifted, shifted to meet yours.

When your eyes connected to the brown and blue of his, you couldn’t help but take notice of just how beautiful he truly was. The way his scar emphasized the brightness of his left eye, the way of how they sparkled just as the stars did against the pond you currently stood near. Your mind had become so utterly consumed by your admiration, his words of concern passed right through you.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He spoke softly, the time of night affecting his tone. He waved his hand slightly in front of your eyes, breaking the trance you were trapped inside. His pupils were blown out a slight bit more, his eyebrows furrowed together like they tend to be. You nodded your head, bringing yourself back to reality. Shoto brought his hand down to your elbow, slowly ushering you back to the sidewalk. What happened in the following ten seconds seemed to span for eons. Shoto turned to walk back, still keeping his grip on your arm, gentle but stern. Before you could stop yourself your hand pulled on his shoulder lightly, his attention back to you. Your hand found its way to his chin and his grip on your arm tightened in the smallest bit.

“Wha-”

Your lips cut off his protest of confusion, your eyes squeezed shut as his eyes flew open wider than ever before. You hand caressed his jaw gently as his grip on your arm fell entirely. This connection and such deep affection that was poured into that single kiss was nearly three years of confined emotions, the crave and depth of your love finally sprung free from your soul. But as you enjoyed the brief moment, your senses began to override your heart. You suddenly remembered that what was between you and Shoto was nothing more or less of a close and two way friendship. You were the first to pull away, although the look on Shoto’s face when you finally came back down from your high, he looked as if he had pulled away first.

“Sho, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happ- I shouldn't have done that please-” You rambled on as you took a step back, shame replacing the flames that were there just seconds before.

“Let’s go home, it’s late.” He cut in, his voice possessing an edge it wouldn’t normally.

“Sho please-” you pleaded, but were cut off once more.

“Y/n, please.”

The way he said your name, the motion of his back turned to you waiting for you to follow, it was enough for you to realize this was territory that shouldn’t be touched. And so instead of trying to explain yourself or make sense of what the hell just happened, you both made your way back to your house in complete and utter silence. The street lights and stars your only guide through the wordless lack of warmth. For the first time ever within your connection to Shoto, the silence couldn’t even be described as uncomfortable. It was absolutely unbearable.

Shoto had made sure you made it inside your house before walking down two blocks to his own. The usual goodnight text you received, the reminder to actually sleep, never danced across your phone screen. The conversation labeled with his name remained silent and only held the traces of the goodnight text from the night before. You couldn’t recall crying or ever falling asleep, but you remembered feeling the dampness of your pillow as you woke up the morning after.

Monday soon rolled around and you were in the middle of gathering your things for school. You couldn’t deny you were nervous to repeat your normal routine of walking to school with Shoto, but you decided the least you could do was try. You packed an extra snack for him just in case, just as he did for you on days where you were particularly struggling. You were in the middle of slipping on your shoes when a knock was heard on the door. Your parents left for work before you even woke and so that left you to answer. You expected it to be your neighbor or a local vendor, but there he stood. His uniform nicely pressed, his tie nice and straight, and his hair perfectly parted down the middle, not a single strand of white mixing with red.

“Sho! We don’t have to start walking for another half hour what are-”

“Let’s take a walk. We should talk.” He stated quite plainly, turning and walking down the steps of your porch and waiting quietly on the sidewalk.

You quickly regained your bearings and your bag and made your way to his side as your steps fell in time with his. He began to lead you through a left turn when you two would usually turn right. This is the long way to school, you thought. Maybe he really did finally have something to say. You weren;t sure if you actually were ready to hear it. it all depended on how he felt about your affections. Your fear of rejection still failed to waver even after the act of courage you displayed two days before.

Without knowing, you were walking on Shoto’s right side that day, closest to the street. Shoto only noticed as you accidentally bumped his side as you moved away from a speeding car. Without a word, he placed his hands on your biceps and moved you to his left, putting distance between you and the street. Your breath caught in your throat as he did this, the action that was so natural in any other circumstance. But in this moment in time, it showed that the connection between you two was still there and it held through the tense air that filled the space between.

Suddenly, Shoto stopped. His movements stopped entirely just a few strides in front of you. You as well came to standstill, your gaze connecting to the back of his school blazer. Then, as if the world had suddenly started to move in slow motion, Shoto turned and faced you. His hands flew to the sides of your jaw, his fingers placed behind your ears and at the curve where your jaw meets the start of your neck. His lips crashed into yours, the force behind them angry but warm, much more force than yours had conveyed. He didn’t back away, his eyes were shut as his lips explored yours. The electric that ran through his fingertips and danced across your shoulders and down your arms, spurring into your fingertips. Your hands came up to grip the front of his blazer, trying to ground yourself and not disassociate from this moment. But as quickly as it started, his lips left yours, Shoto pulling away first this time. Both of you heaved, your chests falling and rising rapidly. Saliva glistened across your lips, your own pupils blown out along with his. He brushed his bangs from his vision, focusing his hazed eyes back to you. His silence was broken as he breathed out something similar to a confession and an explanation.

“Y/n I’m gonna talk. And let me say it all before I forget please.” You nodded your head and the intensity your eyes held was enough of an indication that you were ready to hear it all. Shoto was ready to let down his iron wall completely, and welcome you into his heart that was so sheltered it didn’t know what it was necessarily welcoming.

“Look, I’m so sorry for blowing you off and dismissing the kiss that night. I should’ve at least said something, anything. But please understand that rash acts of affection is something I don’t know how to process. You know me and you know how I grew up. The last time I was ever shown any sort of physical love was from my mother, and I was five when she was taken away. I had been feeling a certain way whenever I would spend time with you. My chest would tighten and it seemed as if my heart was going to leap out on my throat. I could feel the heat of my left side intensify, it spreading to my right whenever you smiled at me. I have never felt this way, I never have felt anything close to this. I don’t even know what it is, but it draws me to you. It’s as if I’m being pulled by an unknown force that surrounds you. And it scared me, I was terrified to indulge in this feeling because it was so strange to me. A knot was constantly tightening in my stomach, and when you kissed me it snapped. And it shocked me, the feeling shocked my common sense entirely. I don’t understand this and I don’t know why. I feel these things for you but my body isn;t capable of processing it. And I could see that hurt you, and I’m sorry. I- I just need time. I still don’t know what this is. I can;t say it’s love because I’ve never loved anyone. But I’m trying to understand it because I know one thing. I care about you and I want to always be there to care about you. I feel for you beyond the feelings of a friendship. Maybe this could be love that I feel, but I’m still trying to figure that out. What I’m trying to say is that I want to love you. I’ll teach myself how to do that. But please be patient with me, let me understand these feelings.”

As his voice trailed off, your mind held onto one specific detail he spoke about. It all made sense now. His reaction made so much sense and you cursed yourself for not realizing it before. Shoto wasn;t shown the same love you were as a child, therefore his heart and mind aren’t equipped to process such strong acts of affection. You were, you were shown that extent of love, even if it was just a little. His heart was completely overwhelmed, and his entire ability to reciprocate that affection was held back by those iron walls. Something you failed to realize was that those iron walls don’t only keep feelings out, they also keep his own emotions in. And that kiss that night broke the walls and those pent up emotions flooded his body, rendering him unable to explain his bluntness. It all finally made sense.

“I’ll wait Shoto. I get it, I should’ve known. But I’ll be here to help you understand those feelings. I’ll be as patient for as long as you need because I’m able to understand my own emotions. And from that I know that I love you.” You spoke gently, cupping his hand between yours, silietly promising to be there to help his iron walls come down.

And with that, you pulled him to your chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, his gripping around your shoulders. As you embraced, Shoto vowed that he would work to understand, work to tear down the iron walls around his heart, he would do this all until he could say he loved you too.

Back to present day, nearly a year later. You and Shoto had made your way to the UA campus, about to split to different ends of the hall. His arm was wrapped snugly around your waist as he pulled you closer. His lips connected to your temple as he mumbled something about remembering to eat the sandwich he had given you that morning. You simply nodded and hugged around his waist before he pulled away. You waved him off as he began to walk his own route to class. And before you started to walk your own way, you called out to him just as his back turned.

“I love you sho.” You said loud enough for him to hear, but not so much for everyone in the halls with you two to turn their heads. He turned back around, his bangs hanging low over his two toned eyes, his scar peeking out from behind as he smiled faintly at you.

Shoto waved to you subtly as he mouthed back, “I love you too.”

There it was. You could almost hear the crash of his iron walls fall.

He holsted his bag once more and disappeared into the crowd of your fellow peers. You also began your commute as you smiled extremely brightly to yourself. His iron walls had finally come down, and his heart accepted this emotion now as something it knew. Shoto only knew the feeling of true love because he knew you, and your heart expanded because you knew him. And you now also knew everything hidden behind the walls of his mind and heart. Your guys’ love entirely constructed from the broken fragments of iron that Shoto broke down piece by piece.

>>>>>>

a/n pt. two: gonna take the time to explain why i struggled with this piece. it wasn’t because i didn’t like the prompt or i didn’t have inspiration from it. it was solely based on the fact that i’m terrible at writing love stories! also todoroki is such a complex character and i haven’t completely analyzed him like i have with bakugou and deku and kirishima. that’s why this piece was a little rougher than ones i’ve written for bakugou. nonetheless, i love this story and id love to see shoto smile again :,)

#my hero academia #comfort character #boku no hero headcanons #mha #mha todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki x y/n #todoroki fluff #mha shoto #todoroki shoto x reader #mha tododeku #comfort headcanons #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #ua dorms #domestic #cold soba

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haikyuucute · 3 years

Note

Saw your post about opening requests and I'd love to grab a spot :D Can I request for Lev where the reader takes the same train as him to get to school but they go to different schools and the reader has a huge crush on him and keeps doing outrageous/silly things to get him to notice? I hope this is okay, if not please let me know c: comedy/fluff if you please. Thank you very much!

Yay my first Lev fic!

These types of asks are easier for me to do as headcanons so yeah...

Thats what I’m gonna do

Anyway, let’s beginnnn

The moment you laid eyes on the tall goofy volleyball player, you were already hooked

Despite his intimidating size he just seemed so happy and friendly

The entire train ride, your eyes were glued on him, trying to figure out what school he went to based on his uniform

His stop had been first so you quickly pieced together that he attended Nekoma

From there it quickly became a routine

You’d get on the train in the morning

Stare at the cute tall boy until his stop

And carry on with your day, thinking about him

Until one day, you figured you were going to try and get him to notice you

The only problem tho was that you were shit at flirting💀

But you were an optimist, what was the worst that could happen?

.... Apparently a lot of things

A note

It was a classic and simple as hell

You stayed up all night trying to figure out what to write before unclimactically writing:

”Hi, I think you’re really cute — girl from the train”

You imagined like it’d be like in the movies

He’d search his bag for something, pull out the note and read it before looking around the train, locking eyes with you where you’d shyly wave back and look all cute

Or maybe he wouldn’t find it until he got to school and the next morning would look for the girl who wrote the note

Yeah well, it didn’t exactly work out that way

It wasn’t your fault he had to have such a generic looking bag!!!

As planned, you were able to slip the note into his bag when you walked passed him on the train where he was seated

The whole time you kept staring at him to see if he’d look in it

And well— someone definitely looked in the bag alright

Except it wasn’t him... and it wasn’t his bag💀

You could feel yourself immediately die from embarrassment as you watched the greasy looking junior high kid next to him pull out the note and read it, immediately looking up and making eye contact with you

You face palmed at the wink he sent

So attempt number one was a bust

So how about attempt number two?

Well, you found out he was half Russian

Apparently staring at one person every morning, you learn something here and there when you accidentally overhear their phone calls hahshshs

So you decided it would be an AMAZING idea if you confessed to him in Russian

You spent an entire week learning the phrase and practicing the pronunciation over and over again

This would be the first time you ever spoken to him and you didn’t wanna screw it up

Eventually you became confident enough to finally go through with it

You approached him

He looked down at you curiously, which made your nerves ten times worse with how cute it made him look

And you confessed

Once you finished he stared at you blankly

”What?”

Well... that was enough to make you die all over again from embarrassment tenfold

Haha...ha... he didn’t speak Russian

Ha... fuck

Ashamed, you muttered out a “nevermind” and it was suddenly back to the drawing board

Honestly after two embarrassing failed attempts you were figuring it was just not meant to be

But then one morning you noticed he had a volleyball

And well, when he got off the train

The volleyball was still there 👀

So impulsively you decided this was a good opportunity to get him to notice you

You’d quickly run off the train, return it to him, he’ll be grateful and thank you and maybe you could finally just tell him straightforwardly that you liked him and go back to the train before it left

Yeah time wise, you were being kinda dumb, but being a dumb bitch was kinda your brand🤪

But you quickly ran off the train with the ball in hand

He was easy to spot because of his height— the only thing is his legs were so fucking long he was already kinda far now

So you quickly ran towards him, shuffling past people in your way

Unfortunately for you, you were also a bit of a clutz as well

One miss step had you flying to the ground, volleyball flying out of your hands

however it ended up rolling slightly past Lev, who immediately lit up at the sight of it

He quickly picked it up before turning on his heel to see where it came from

And there you were sitting on the ground, gripping your knee in pain

He bounded towards you

”Are you okay!?”

You sighed softly— you just couldn’t catch a break could you:(

But you nodded and took the hand he offered to you

His grin grew, easily recognizing you

”Hey, you’re the cute girl from the train!”

”The... what?”

”Yeah! I didn’t know this was your stop?”

”Oh it isn’t— I just jumped off real quick to return the ball you left”

”Thank you! Yaku would’ve been mad if I lost it”

You had no idea who Yaku was, but you did know this was your chance to finally confess

”I’m-I’m sorry if this is weird but I... I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if you want to go out sometime”

Lev’s eyes widened

A cute girl was asking him??? On a date???

His teammates would never believe it

So of course he had to say yes, not only were you cute, but you seemed really nice too

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

”Wait? Really!?”

”Of course!”

You felt as if you could’ve passed out in relief and you knew you’d have a permanent grin on your face the entire day

”Hey, isn’t that your train?”

Your eyes widened as you turned around just to see your train already leaving

Ah... fuck

Bonus:

The team most definitely did NOT believe Lev when he said he had a date

And they DEFINITELY did not believe him a week later when he said he had a girlfriend

So when you walked into Nekoma’s gym one afternoon saying you were there to watch your boyfriend practice, they were all speechless

That was when Lev suddenly showed up in the gym and ran towards you excitedly

The team watched the two of you in growing horror and realization as you both went back and forth about each other’s days and how excited you two were to see each other

Especially Yaku

”Oh my god... there’s two of them”

#haikyuu #lev haiba #lev #haiba #lev haiba x reader #lev x reader #haiba x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

Text

Okay, Moon anon was able to contact me and I'm gonna post their chapters 3-6 here.

Daniel and YN 3 🌗🌗

Rainy days are crazy. Some of YN’s best and worst memories were on a rainy day. It was a rainy day when Daniel was born. His parents overjoyed when he decided to join the world early. The Sunny morning turned rainy when they saw something was wrong. The sky was so dark when the doctored explained that their baby didn’t get enough oxygen in the womb or when he came out. That his brain was impacted by the trauma. It took four years for Daniel’s mother to stop blaming herself, four years for her to understand that she couldn’t have known that something was wrong in her womb. Four years when they had their second child. It was a rainy day when YN and Daniel got lost. Holding each other’s hand, tightly they wandered the Kamino Ward. Hoping that their parents would be right down an alley or around the corner. That was a terrible 6th birthday for YN. The steps Daniel left in the dirt started to get deeper and more burnt. The boy slightly started to tremble. “Daniel.. it’s gonna be ok. Momma and Pop are going to find us we just have to-“ “Are you two lost?” A very tall man in a black suit asked. YN couldn’t remember his face, but his voice was eerily calm and smoothe. His head had snow white hair on it. A look at him would’ve left even the hero All Might scared. “ye…Yes. My brother and I can’t find our parents..” “Oh dear. Well I can help you. They couldn’t have gotten far.” He held his hand to Daniel. And he almost took it had YN not stepped in. “We’re not supposed to touch strangers.” “Oh yes, that’s a very good rule. Well my name is.. Shigaraki. Now what are yours?” “…yn.. and daniel..” “Now we aren’t strangers. Let’s get you two somewhere safe. Your brother’s quirk might level the neighborho-“ “YN! DANIEL!” The relieved voice of their father shouted out. And the two quickly turned away, toward his calls and open arms. Tears running down their faces, swearing to never wander off again. The day was saved. When YN went to turn to Mr Shigaraki to tell him it was fine, he had disappeared into the crowd. But one question lingered in her head. How did he know Daniel’s quirk could be dangerous? It was a sunny day at first when YN and Daniel went out to the park for their Day out. YN had already planned to tell her parents that she wanted to come back here for her 12th birthday in a few months. Daniel kept over-stimulating himself with every single thing that caught his eyes. The anthill, the trees, the way the wind carried the leaves, when he and YN jumped around over the hopscotch drawings. When the rain came down they didn’t want to leave. They wanted to splash in the wetness like a couple of ducks. But Momma was insistent it was time to go back to the apartment. Inside the car YN immediately put on her headphones to listen to nightcore covers of popular songs. It wasn’t until she noticed her mom’s terrified expression and felt her dad’s fear did she take them off. “-I DONT KNOW ITS NOT BREAKING!” “WE’RE GOING RIGHT INTO TRAFFIC! DO SOMETHING!” “..momma?..” “DANIEL! YN GET DOWN!” That was the last thing her mother said to her. The rain hit the car harder. Daniel was quick to cover his little sister as the car swerved towards a large truck. YN felt her brother shield over their bodies. The last thing she heard from her father was a yell. Before they crashed into the truck. Before YN and Daniel were flung out into the side of the road. Scratches beginning to litter their arms and cheeks. YN felt the rain on her face as she tried looking up. Tried finding her parents. It was a rainy day when the last image of her parents was the crushed front end of the car. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN 4 🌗🌗

The incident at the cafe left a bigger mess then was intended. Of course the waitress didn’t say a word about who caused the mess, still terrified of the threat, but the manager still called the police. At the moment it was being investigated as a break in. It wasn’t until they started to bag the broken vases as evidence did they think to call a hero as they believed this was a terrorist villain trying to strike more fear. When the first cop touch the broken vases he immediately fell over and started seizing. Like someone had sent hundreds of volts up through his gloved fingers and into his blood stream. The second cop tried picking up the glass with prongs so that she wouldn’t get the same effect. But she still felt some pain and volts. Even the glass windows were giving off static. When they were examined no one could find a point of impact. It was almost like they spontaneously exploded. Worse and more confusing yet was the fact that the material seemed to give off radiation spikes. From a computer screen image, it was like a red glow was emanated from the glass. When the police tried to check the cameras, all the footage was either ruined, too melted to gather anything. It left them in a stump. So they had to make a plea to the hero society to get fresh eyes and help on the case. Not expecting any big response. Some heroes wanted to solve the mystery because it stumped them as well. This quirk residue was something unseen before. Calls and emails were left. All saying they would look into it. And it seemed like this would just be a mysterious case left forgotten. That is until the All Might showed up in the station one morning. Along with his protege Deku. They said they wanted to solve the case because if this person left such a dangerous residue after using their quirk, then they were a danger to themselves and others. No on saw the real intentions in their eyes. When they asked about the only other patron in the cafe the police said that they tried tracking them down, but they were gone into the wind. The only other patron at the cafe made their way into a compound. Holding treats meant for a little girl. But first he had to make a stop at his boss’s office. “Hey.. Kai. You won’t believe what Just saw.” Meanwhile in the station two separate rats made calls to two separate people. “Put me through to Shigaraki…. Hello. I have something interesting to tell you. Something that might please you and your Sensei.” “Oh hey there Aizawa. Detective Tsukauchi here. Look I you know about that cafe destruction a week ago? Yea well I think you outta here about this.” Indeed the cafe incident left a bigger mess than intended. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 5 🌗🌗

They’d been gone for at least two months. YN’s feet hurt and Daniel missed his own bed. But they had to keep going, with no intended final destination but a goal to keep away from the previous home they ran from. After the morning at the cafe, YN and Daniel had kept to the shadows for the rest of the day. But they couldn’t keep going like this. They needed to eat today but not at a restaurant. There was only one dreaded… dreaded option. The grocery store. So after they checked in at the latest motel with kitchens in the rooms, the siblings ventured off to the store.YN couldn’t leave Daniel alone yet. He’d panic and probably have a fit. The store was minimally packed. Since it was still early in the day it seemed like they would zip in and out with relative ease. After grabbing the bare essentials, and what she could pack in a backpack without much drag, it was time to go to the candy aisle. It was a long journey thus far, a journey deserving of some sour candies. But of course there had to be another person there. Invading space and looking right at her favorites. She wanted to just grab and go. But her hand and the stranger's hand touched as they reached for the same one. “Sorry. I should’ve watched where I was going heh..” The tall redhead said. A small blush on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Lemme just grab and go here.” She looked back for Daniel, luckily he was close by staring at the varieties of pocky they had. Turning back she noticed his uniform. UA, that might prove to be a complication. But YN was desperate for some kind words and a brief moment to talk to someone her own age. “So you go to UA? Are you a general student or a hero course student?” “Oh hero course definitely! I even have my hero name chosen!” “Wow that’s great. I hope in a few years I get to be saved by…?” “Red Riot!” “Like Crimson Riot?” “Exactly! I really admire him and I hope I live up to his-“ “OI SH**TY HAIR! WE’RE GONNA BE LATE! GRAB YOUR CRAP AND LET’S GO!” A blonde kid shouted down the aisle, also wearing a UA outfit. YN couldn’t place why but she felt like she’d known him before. That volume felt very familiar, but it startled her brother who jumped in fear causing the pocky he saw to fall off the shelving. Time to go now. “I should go anyway. It was nice meeting you.” “Wait, we could walk you and your brother to your school if you guys want?” “We have to go.” The blonde got closer and she could tell something was perpetually up his ass. “Bye.” “Wait! My name’s Eijiro Kirishima. What’s yours?” “YN. Just YN. That’s my brother Daniel.” And before he or his companion could ask anything else the two siblings fast walked toward the checkout and were out the door before they got another chance to talk to them. “YN… huh she was pretty cool right bakubro!” “What ever. Let’s get going before we show up after Deku.” But that name was familiar to him. The girl had long since faded from his mind, but how could anyone forget the day when a quirkless kid tried bashing your head into the dirt. He planned on apologizing the next day for his comments but she was gone. Gone and almost forgotten. It could be possible that this was just someone who shared the same name. But maybe.. possibly.. the universe was giving him the chance to apologize. “YN.” 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 6 🌗🌗

YN never really liked her neighbors. She never outright loathed them, but she was uncomfortable with how Inko kept trying to be her mother, and how Izuku had this strange obsessive stare when he looked at her. As long as they stayed in their apartment and never bothered them it would all be fine. But their parents couldn’t watch them all the time. So on days when momma and pop went out Miss Midoryia would graciously watch them. YN never liked pity. So when Miss Midoryia tried to pity and feel sorry about YN’s quirkless status, that just made her dig her heels in longer. She didn’t need people to fuss over her like she was a glass doll. At least with Izuku she could’ve had a companion. She did try to get along with him. But he was so weird. Just because they both were quirkless didn’t mean they’d would be close. “So why are you homeschooled?” “I get into fights.” “Why?” “Because people are mean and they think they’ll have no consequences to their words. I proved them wrong.” “Were they mean because you’re quirkless or because Daniel is… different?” Now obviously he didn’t mean any harm by that. But an emotional 10 year old girl is not someone to mess with. So with a sharp glare to his face the conversation quickly died. In the dining room, Daniel would usually be coloring. Or playing with his legos. Something to stim and distract his mind. Sometimes he’d just pull out a old painting his dad got him, and he’d spend hours looking at the strokes and would mentally add a new feature. Twirling the hair on his head whilst sucking/biting his thumb. “Daniel? Would you like some water?” “No miss. I want momma.” “I know sweetie but she won’t be gone forever. And you call me Inko” Though she’d prefer him to call her something more affectionate. Throughout the night Inko kept trying to mother them. She hovered over YN’s neck and tried petting her head which resulted in a swipe from the little girl. By the time YN’s parents got back, she was relieved and spent the rest of the night complaining to her mom about how she didn’t want to go over to the neighbors anymore and how she felt uncomfortable. Across the hall the two greenettes were enamored with the two kids. Inko adored how sweet Daniel was, how shy he looked to her. Izuku was star struck at this girl without a quirk who was so quick to fight against the norms put in place by a society against them. They'd soon make it a habit to try to talk to the family in the hall, or bump into them on the street. One day, after the family had been gone for a couple weeks, they saw the two with several police officers and a social worker packing away all their belongings. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something terrible had happened. When Inko offered to watch them, the social worker confirmed the worst and took the children away. Three weeks later, as her son was at school Inko kept trying to find the legal way for her to gain custody of the kids when her door was knocked. Her husband, AFO, on the other side. She tried telling him to go away. Tried saying that he had no part in Izuku’s life anymore. But he had a bigger role than known. “How can you be so cruel my love? Especially now that I’ve opened the door for you to gain what you want?” “What do you mean?” “I’ll help you gain custody of the two children you are craving. I happen to have a fascination with them as well.” “I can’t ever guarantee that we’ll be a whole family ever again.” “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to. But let’s try something for now.” So Inko made a deal with the devil, to gain two angels. 🌗🌗

Now that AFO is in the story, I'm like so excited! Great work, Moon anon!

#moon anon

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

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heirloom

first things first, this is entirely the product of the lovely @ninjawhoa‘s artwork, which you can find here (if you haven’t seen it already please give go give them love it’s sO good!!) so full credit to that piece for the inspiration :’D

second things i have a lot of feeling about lloyd. as always. happy birthday green boy i promise this is not entirely angst T-T

Forgotten

Lloyd is six years old and a child, and he cries more than all the other boys at Darkley’s put together.

He cries the first time he skins his knee, the first time he breaks his wrist, the first time the older boys crush the little frogs that live in the pond, the first time someone tells him he’s been forgotten by his family and every time after.

And that’d be okay, maybe. Like Brad putting fire ants in his bed the first night, it was only that first time. Lloyd learned to expect pranks after that and everything was fine. He learned how to act like a Darkley’s boy and eventually everyone forgot about it. It’s lame that Lloyd cried the first time, but at least it’s just the first time. If he learns to stop after that, then eventually, everyone will forget about it.

But Lloyd, six years old and brimming with his own ocean, doesn’t stop.

“What’s wrong, Garmadon? Gonna cry again?”

Lloyd stares at the frog, its eyes bulging just where its head sticks out from beneath Finn’s shoe. His lip stings, too-sharp teeth biting too tight. Lloyd hates his teeth. They always hurt, like all the times everyone tells him he’s nothing like his father.

“You should’a killed it slower,” another boy chimes in. “He always cries when they start croaking.”

Lloyd’s nails bite into his palms. He likes the frogs’ croaking, usually. It’s why he ended up over by the pond today, ‘cause they’re small and green and he likes how soft they are when they climb all over his hands.

His eyes burn, and one of Lloyd’s sharper teeth breaks through the skin of his lip. He shouldn’t’ve gone to see the frogs today. He shouldn’t’ve ever gone in the first place. If he hadn’t, the other boys wouldn’t’ve come over, and the poor frog wouldn’t be under Finn’s shoe right now. All Lloyd ever does to nice things like frogs is get them killed.

“Huh,” Finn squints at Lloyd, flinty eyes narrowing. “Maybe if I…”

His shoe comes down hard, squashing the frog flat with an ugly squelching sound. There’s a horrible echo of silence, and Lloyd hiccups.

“There we go,” Finn grins. He doesn’t have sharp teeth like Lloyd, but they always look so much crueler than his own ever have when he smiles like that. “Crybaby Garmadon. Can’t believe you’re still at school with us, all you ever do is blubber. What kinda villain are you, anyways?”

Lloyd wants to snap back. There’s not just tears in him, there’s fire too, and he’s the son of the Dark Lord. His blood boils, and for a second he thinks of vengeance—

Then it’s gone, lost in Lloyd’s overflowing ocean, and hot tears streak down his cheeks.

And that’s how it always goes. It’s awful, because Lloyd doesn’t even like crying. It doesn’t make him feel better, and it certainly doesn’t help anything. All it does is get him made fun of — son of the Dark Lord and grandson of the First Spinjitzu Master, and the best Lloyd can be is an embarrassment, crybaby Garmadon with no real friends.

He tries, of course. He tries, he tries so hard, but Lloyd can’t learn to stop. He bruises and breaks inside and out, bleeding but never scarring over. The scrapes on his knees heal up faster than any other boy’s, but inside Lloyd never toughens. He learns to spit fire and venom and pull up a mask, but his skin heals soft and Lloyd’s heart never gets any harder.

Even after he’s left the gates of Darkley’s, anger burning in his gut like a disease, he never stops welling up and running over, spilling out like an unending fountain of misery.

Chosen One

It’s the first time in Lloyd’s life he can remember wearing a color other than black, and he should be happy. He should be excited, ‘cause green’s always been one of his favorite colors and now he gets to wear it all the time, and ninja gi’s are so much more comfy than the stuffy Darkley’s uniforms.

Instead, he just wants to cry.

And he’d though the weapons lighting up were pretty, at first.

The first thing Lloyd does, once the others are distracted enough and there aren’t anymore eyes on him, is bolt. It takes longer than he’d thought, and his eyes nearly burst from pressure, but he probably should’ve expected that. He’s the Green Ninja now, after all.

Lloyd sinks his teeth into his lip, trying desperately not to let the burn in his eyes overflow. He can’t cry now. He’s the Green Ninja, he’s got a destiny, and people with destinies like that don’t cry. The ninja have been talking about the Green Ninja for weeks, Lloyd knows what they expect. They expect a hero, a savior, and now they’re stuck with Lloyd. It’s the least he can do not to cry.

Well, not in front of them, at least.

Lloyd squeezes himself between the pipes in the engine room, crawling into one of the corners as he sniffs thickly. If no one knows he’s crying, then it doesn’t really count, right? If none of the ninja, or Nya, or Uncle Wu, or his dad — if they don’t see him cry, then it doesn’t count. They never have to know. Lloyd will just — he’ll just make sure to be extra quiet, and no one will have to know that the Green Ninja’s a stupid crybaby.

Something hot trickles down his right cheek, and Lloyd bites his lip furiously. He goes to wipe angrily at it, then freezes. The sleeves of the gi he’s wearing are a deep green, soft but sturdy and nicer than anything Lloyd’s ever owned in his whole life. He’s immediately horrified with himself. This is the green gi, everything everybody’s ever wanted, apparently, and Lloyd’s gonna go wiping his tears all over it?

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Lloyd scolds himself, sniffing wetly again. He’s only been the Green Ninja for a day and he’s already ruining it.

The pipes creak loudly as someone’s footsteps echo from above, and Lloyd sucks in a breath, drawing his knees up to his chest. He feels a little sick to his stomach, and his heart feels like it decided to start running laps in his chest.

Green Ninja. He’s supposed to save Ninjago. Lloyd can’t even save one tiny frog. How in the world is he supposed to save everyone from his own dad?

The sick feeling grows worse, and Lloyd’s eyes grow blurry. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, refusing to let them well over. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

“Hey, Lloyd, you in here?”

Lloyd’s eyes snap open, and gasps out a sharp breath of surprise. He immediately claps a hand over his mouth, cursing himself, but it’s too late. Kai’s already tracked him down, squinting at him through the mess of pipes.

“Seriously, you pick here to hide?” Kai frowns. “I could’ve sworn you were claustrophobic.”

Lloyd has no idea what that means, but he wasn’t planning on saying anything back anyways. He buries his face in his arms instead, before Kai gets any ideas about what Lloyd’s doing down here.

“Hey, you uh — you wanna come out, so we can talk about it?”

Lloyd pulls his arms around his head tighter, and doesn’t look up.

Kai groans, sounding defeated. “Fine, I’ll do it your way. Just — gimme a sec.”

Despite himself, Lloyd peeks over his arms, watching as Kai gingerly squeezes himself around the pipes.

“How did you — ow — even get yourself in here — ow, son of — in the first place?”

Lloyd stares with wide eyes as Kai wrenches himself through the last of the pipes, scowling as he brushes his hair back into place. He shakes his head, then sits next to Lloyd with a huff, clearly uncomfortable in the cramped space.

“So, um. You want to. You want to, uh, talk about it? The whole ninja thing?”

Kai winces the moment he finishes speaking, but Lloyd’s too busy biting his lip to care much. Why did Kai have to come now? He’s just starting to think Kai might like having him around, and now he’s gonna see Lloyd crying, and he’s gonna — he’s gonna—

Kai’s eyes widen as he meets Lloyd’s own. “Or, uh, you don’t have to talk. We can just sit here, if you want, but—” He blows his breath out, messing with his hair again. “You’re not alone, okay? And it’s okay to be scared, but you’ve got us, so…maybe you can be…a little less scared.”

Oh. Kai looks pained as he trails off into silence. Lloyd swallows. He can feel the familiar slip of tears down his cheek, but he doesn’t sob. He doesn’t buckle over, or hiccup, he just gives a shuddery little breath and blinks away the blurriness. Kai’s eyes go even wider, and Lloyd watches him scramble for his pockets.

“Aw, kid — um, hold on, I think I’ve got a — wait, no, Zane’s the only one who ever has tissues, um—”

Clearly at a war with himself, Kai finally tugs the edge of his gi sleeve over his hand, and gingerly dabs at Lloyd’s cheek. Lloyd sits frozen, eyes still wet. Despite the awkward way Kai cringes, he’s still gentle as he wipes the tears away. He doesn’t laugh at Lloyd, or call him crybaby, or an embarrassment. He doesn’t even mention the Green Ninja.

Lloyd’s eyes still overflow, but he can’t help but think that maybe — maybe Kai is the kind of person he’d trust with the little frogs. He seems like the kind of person who could get it, maybe.

Leader

Lloyd’s been figuring he’d learn how to stop crying when he gets older. He hadn’t been figuring it’d be so soon.

He grows up, just…much quicker than he thought he would. He also gets taller, and his voice gets deeper, and his legs are too long and his arms are too strong and everyone treats him like he’s the most grown-up kid in the whole entire world.

Well, except for the times the guys and Nya treat him like he’s five, but — those are getting less irritating, the further he gets. But Lloyd’s undeniably older, and he could be alright with that. He’s the Green Ninja, and he is alright with that.

He just wishes he’d gotten used to being the Green Ninja a little longer, before the Golden Ninja got added on top of everything else too.

“You’ve inherited the power of your grandfather,” Uncle Wu — Sensei, when in training, and around important people — tells him, his eyes shining. “It’s an incredible gift, Lloyd. The power of the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master — few have even dreamed of possessing such a thing.”

Well Lloyd’s definitely not one of those few. He’d known about the First Spinjitzu Master, but everything he knows about the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master is a lot more…hand-wavy.

“Hand-wavy is hardly the way to talk about it,” his mother scolds, even as she frowns at his ankle. Things had finally calmed down enough for the others to drag him off to a doctor for it, even though Lloyd had argued it was fine. And it should’ve been — the golden power’s gotta be good for something, and if it can’t even fix the ankle you snapped fighting to get it in the first place then what’s the point?

His mother finishes tying the wrapping off, and Lloyd flinches as his ankle throbs, the thick bandages pulling tight. The reminder of how it had first cracked on the Dark Island still makes him nauseous, but it’s not nearly as bad now. He swallows it back easily, just like he did back when he first woke up with it. This is nothing, compared to climbing the tower. And even then, he barely noticed.

At least broken bones are easier when you’re older, he thinks, dully listening to his uncle and mom argue about the golden power again. He slips out of the room as quietly as he can, hurrying back to where he last saw the others. It’s not like he’s ever really involved in the conversation, anyways. Lloyd gets the golden power whether Lloyd likes the golden power or not, end of discussion. It might’ve been nice to be part of the discussion, but he’s…he’s okay with it. Most of the time.

Lloyd swallows, then shakes his head, trying to smile instead. It’s not that he’s ungrateful, and he doesn’t understand how he’s still so selfish — he’s got a family now, more than he’d ever dreamed of having. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and a few more titles should be easy price to pay.

They just — they feel so heavy, sometimes, all piling on top of each other. Lloyd’s barely began figuring out how he’s supposed to be the Green Ninja, and now he’s got all these other titles to figure out, too?

He kicks dully at the ground. He thought things were supposed to make sense, when you got older.

They don’t, though, and it drives him crazy because they never do. He’s the Golden Ninja then he’s not the Golden Ninja, he’s the Green Ninja but also the elemental master of what’s-it-called, and now Uncle Wu’s calling him leader during training, and Lloyd nearly breaks his neck tripping over his own feet.

It’s not a pretty look, judging by the concerned expressions the others are wearing. Lloyd passes it off as exhaustion, and begs off training for the day instead. There might be a look of concern that passes across Uncle — Sensei Wu’s face, but Lloyd misses it if there is. He’s too busy reeling, spiraling in a dizzying loop as his footsteps take him aimlessly away from the training grounds.

It’s okay, he tells himself. He’s come this far. He’s got so many titles already, what’s one more? And really, compared to Golden Ninja, leader is—

Lloyd’s stomachs turns, and he bites his lip. Well, maybe he’s more frightened than he’d like to admit.

He sucks a breath in, steadying himself. Leader. It can’t be such a scary word forever, right? He can make it work. This is Kai, and Cole, and Jay, and Zane. They’re his family. If he can’t lead them, he may as well hang up the green gi now.

And that’s obviously not an option.

Lloyd takes another steadying breath, and blinks. His eyes sting, but it’s not with any kind of tears. It’s an odd, tinging kind of sting, like the kind that pulses through his fingertips, that sings through his veins. He’d say it’s strength, but it feels more complex than that. Either way, he takes strength from it. Lloyd blinks again, looking back up to the monastery, and his eyes are dry.

He’s older now. He doesn’t cry anymore. His heart might refuse to harden, and he doesn’t doubt it’ll ever stop breaking, but Lloyd’s ocean, overflowing and bleeding over, has finally run out.

Or that’s what he likes to think, at least.

Hero

At this point, Lloyd doesn’t think he’ll be surprised by anything. There’s a benefit in growing his hair and having his voice finally change, other than the obvious — it’s a lot easier to just despair internally now, and hopefully still look like he’s cool and composed.

Not that anything about what Harumi and his father’s done to him is cool, but…Lloyd is better at resigning himself to these things. At least he’s old enough to start the conversations himself, now.

Lloyd still doesn’t know how old he is. He supposes it doesn’t matter as much, now that he knows what’s running through his blood. The days he used to fear it was venom are long-gone and laughable — is the blood of an Oni worse? The blood of a dragon, surely, has to mean something good, but Lloyd is made up of so many pieces he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be now.

He could be bitter, maybe, that he’s gone his whole life not knowing what he is, but bitterness is something that’s never rested long in Lloyd’s heart. Even before the city’s stopped burning and his father’s locked away, it’s hard to hold onto it. He’s never quite been able to shake that. He’s got more scars than he can count now, but his heart still heals soft. Anger isn’t something he can hold onto for very long, and resentment doesn’t work that well when you’re the one that ends up feeling bad.

He doesn’t cry anymore, though. Not after the sky tram. Not when his bones break, not when his father spits in his face, not when Zane freezes the better part of him with hateful eyes. Harumi and her downfall may have scarred him, but part of Lloyd can’t help but be grateful that she’s finally done what Darkley’s never could.

Lloyd’s scarred over, his skin finally toughened.

And yet—

Lloyd hurries away from the streets, sparing the car that’s honked at him a dirty look before tucking his hands against his rain jacket, sheltering his cupped palms from the misting rain. It’s not a bad storm, but it’s enough to turn the sky a silvery gray as he climbs the steps to the monastery, his pace quicker than usual as he cuts a path to the ponds.

He skids a few feet on the wet grass as he goes, biting back a curse as his shoes slip wildly before he catches his balance again, hands still held close to his chest. He breathes a quick sigh of relief, before picking his way over to the nearest of the small ponds that dot the monastery gardens.

“Here you go, little guy,” he murmurs, finally pulling his hands from his jacket, revealing the tiny frog cradled gently in his palms. The poor thing trembles in his hold, still shaking from the near-miss when Lloyd fished him from the worst of Ninjago City’s rush hour traffic. He might’ve missed it himself, had it not been for the slight flash of green along the worn grey pavement.

He lowers himself carefully near the pond, dipping his hands in the shallows of the water. The frog doesn’t move at first, it’s eyes wide and buggy as it shelters in Lloyd’s palms.

“It’s alright,” Lloyd assures it quietly. “It’s safe, here. Promise.”

The frog considers the pond before it, big eyes blinking. Then, in two short hops, it splashes into the water, swimming a few feet before nestling at the edge of a water lily. It lets out a single, happy croak.

Lloyd watches it for a moment longer, his hands still half in the water, raindrops splattering over his jacket sleeves. Finally satisfied that the frog is content, he stands, shaking the water from his hands before remembering he’s soaked from the rain anyways. Sighing, he spares the frog one last glance, his lips curving into a smile as he turns away, wiping rainwater from where it drips down into his eyes.

Lloyd is older than he’d thought he’d get to be and still a child, and he doesn’t cry at all.

Then again, he’s gotten better at finding the bright sides, these days.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #bc i cannot write one fic where he doesn't sneak his way in #also slight animal cruelty tw the darkley's kids aren't nice :((#but only that tiny bit the rest is lloyd being lloyd #nwuh ily #my fic

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awhst-alt · 3 years

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I HAD THE BEST BYLER DREAM LAST NIGHT AND I REALLY WANNA SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL

it's so long (literally 2k words) so im gonna put it under the cut haha <3

so basically this would take place after mike and will start dating or something, idk exactly the time frame (i picture them being like 18 or something and this is the summer before college) and will goes to this summer arts program for like 2/3 months (i dunno how long american summer is but something like that) and its all the way far from home so there is dorms and stuff and he's "not in hawkins anymore" (no pun intended)

mike and will decide after will finishes his school they'd go to college together (cuz they're gonna be comic book artists together bc thats boyfriend shit) so throughout these months he's practically just waiting for will (<333333)

so one specific scene i remember from my dream involved will and mike getting off the bus to the school and then they hug and then mike grabs wills hand and brings him behind the bus and then he gives will a biggg kiss bc he won't be able to kiss him for 3 months. then they say they love each other and will gives him another quick kiss and is like "two kisses". they agree they'd call each other every day.

so will goes inside and mike goes back on the bus and goes home.

and basically the whole day is a whirl, until the end of it, in which mike is sitting in the kitchen near the phone waiting for like 3 hours for will to call, and will doesn't end up calling.

AND THEN IT GETS SPICYYYYY

so meanwhile at the arts program will asks like the front desk or something if he can call mike and they say phone is offlimits and they don't let him call mike

so then will goes to sleep and he's paranoid that he thinks mike is gonna hate him or something like that

mk than the next day in class there is this girl (they didn't reveal her name in the dream, ill call her stella) so stella is basically looking at will the entire class but will doesn't know it

so when they exit the class stella's like "hi" and will says "hi"

then stella says "i like your painting."

will is like rlly weirded out so he goes "thanks?"

"i um- hope this doesn't sound weird but i have no friends, do you want to be mine?"

"sure"

and then end of scene (this does not sound like a normal conversation but it's my dream so it doesn't have to make sense"

so BACK AT HAWKINS mike is still sleeping even tho it's like 3 pm because yk depressed boyfriend shit but then the PHONE RINGS and mike gets out of bed frantically and goes to the phone and he picks it up and is like "will?" and then it answers "it's el, idiot"

i feel like this is important for context but el speaks english very well now and hoppers back and she lives with hopper and not the byers anymore. ANYWAYS

el says "how's will?"

mike says "idk he didn't call"

"he didn't?"

"no, he didn't"

"okay. well maybe he will call later"

"yeah mb"

"wanna come over"

"ok"

so mike hangs up and gets changed and goes to el's house bc they r a couple o' besties and when he gets there it's like a therapy sessions bc mike usally talks to will every single day and he can't for like 3 months (unless will calls, but he's not going to) so he accepts he's gonna be depressed for 3 months and he's just talking to el about how he's gonna miss him so much and no be able to see his face and that shit

so el's like "well do u wanna do something to take ur mind off of him"

and mike's like "no im not gonna replace will" (I SCREAMED IN MY DREAM SRSLY)

but than el says "okay. guess im gonna go to the mall by myself" (ig starcourt is rebuilt by now)

and than mike bolts up and is like "fine"

"we can by something for will"

"okay yay"

so then they go to starcourt yasss!!

anyways back at the art school will is having lunch and stella is with he friends (even tho she said she doesn't have any friends) and one of her friends is like "omg did you see _____ he's so hot"

and another friend says "YESS! but ____ is cuter"

"what abt u stella? who do u have ur eyes on"

she says "byers" BUT NOOOOOOO WILL IS MIKES MAN

and they say "ew that kid who came back to life"

she says "yea. but he's cute, and shy, and once i wrap them around my finger i can get them to do anything"

so then she goes to sit down next to will at lunch

"hi will"

"hi"

"hru"

"im good"

"okay. good." and she gets upset because will goes ask how she is but she keeps her urging rage inside. and than they have this weird conversation and will is uncomfortable the whole time bc shes all like flirting with him and will is seeing someone obvi

but then she puts a hand on will's shoulder and he's shaking and then says something (idk what it is it wasn't explaining in my dream) then will stands up and runs to the bathroom. so he's just sitting in the stalls crying.

okay back at starcourt this part wasn't shown in my dream but im just gonna make up that mike and el go looking around starcourt for something for will (sort of like the mike/lucas/will montage where they were looking for stuff for el) and then i guess they find something for will and i don't have the slightest idea what they could have got for him BUT THEY GOT HIM SOMETHING GOOD

so mike's all happy but they'res still that depression inside of him lol

so fast forward a week, it really isn't explained but ill just make up that will still hasn't called mike, and he's super sad and all sleeping in but decides to look through his good ol binder full of will's drawings and in the arts school will and stella have a few more interactions im sure which are still very uncomfortable

okay so it's lunch again in the cafeteria and somehow will and stella are talking again but somehow it ends in stella kissing will and will like pulls away immediatley and is like "what is wrong with you!?"

and she says "what?"

"i'm seeing someone!"

"oh i uh- i didn't know."

the whole cafeteria is staring at them

so will's freaking out almost on the verge of a panic attack "idk what to do, he's gonna hate me and-"

"he?"

will has the look on his face like shit shit shit oh fuck no

"you're gay?"

"i-"

and will runs off once again. and everyone in the whole cafeteria knows that he's day and ofc with everybody being homophobic will knows it's not good at all bc everyone's gonna bully him

so then the next day he goes to class and the teacher is like "does anyone care to tell me where ___ is?" (it would be like a math question like 'where x is' but in art idkkk) and then the teacher calls on "will? can you tell me where ___ is?" and they'res a pause and then the teacher says "or perhaps you'd want to find your boyfriend instead?" (giving me anne with an e vibes prolly cuz i did a rewatch last weekend but i won't explain more in case some people haven't watched it but) anyways will stands up from his seat, everyone is looking at him, and he's shaking and so concerned but then he goes "fuck. you" badass will yeaaaa thats my boy

so then he runs out of the classroom and out of the school in a really cool montage way but then he realizes he's like 2 hours away from home but he runs and runs and he goes to a random bustop (it's not even garanteed if it takes him to hawkins but whatever) he gets on and tries to go back to hawkins.

and soon enough, he gets there, and immediatley goes to the wheelers because he needs to see mike and apologize for everything. so he's at the wheelers, and rings the doorbell, realizing he's still in his uniform lol but karen answers and mike is upstairs in his room sulking (i picture it would be 8 pm by now) so will asks for mike and karen calls mike. mike groans obviously because he doesn't know it's his boy, but he comes down, karen gets out of the way and as soon as he sees will they have a really big hug and it's super sweet and my heart UFHEIOSKA

mike says his usual "are you okay?" and mike is still confused as shit but will says "i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry" and mike says "you don't have to be sorry for anyrhing" but will says "ill explain"

so then they go to will's room, side-by-side on his bed and will starts explaining everything

(this is mostly improvised by me but it's still pretty similar to the dream)

"i hated it."

"the school?"

"yeah. there was no you, (mike blushes lmao), everything was terrible, i felt so lonely, they didn't let me call you-"

"what?"

"they said the phone was off limits. i wanted to talk to you so bad and i thought you'd hate me"

"i could never hate you, will, even if i tried." will smiles

"and then there was this girl, and she hit on me and i didn't know what to do bc i'd be the face of the school if i told her i was dating you and was gay and today she kissed me"

"WHAT"

"im sorry im sorry i didn't kiss back and i was so scared bc i never was in a relationship before and i was so scared it was considered cheating-"

and mike LAUGHSS

"what? mike? what's wrong?"

"if you don't do anything back, it's not considerd 'cheating'"

"oh. good. are you mad at me?"

"what? no! no never!" so mike opens his arms and says "come here" so will and mike hug or something like that and then mike says "do you need me to beat her up?"

and will says "you can't even beat eggs. besides, your noodle arms wouldn't be able to do harm to even a fly"

so mike laughs and says "i'm glad your home"

so will blurts "i cursed out a teacher"

"you? cursing?"

"yes."

"might have to start calling you a bad boy now"

will just smiles and says "i love you"

and mike says "i love you too"

AND THEN END AND IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF BC I LOVE THIS DREAM LIKE I CAN'T BELIEVE MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF THIS BUT IM OBSESSED

ALSO ONCE I FINISH WYBMFFAE ILL PROBABLY WRITE THIS INTO A FULL BLOWN FIC BUT AHIHFUSAH

edit: i have no idea what mike did with the present him and el bought for will but i guess they ended up giving it to him lol

#byler

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hanemiso · 4 years

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Wish I Were Tohru

>>> a sohma yuki x reader <<<

genre: lil fluff, lil angst??

warnings: none

song: heather by conan gray

synopsis: you’ve been able to get close to the Sohma and become close friends with him. you have feelings for him, but you’re pretty sure he has feelings for Honda Tohru.

a/n: I love this boy and he needs love, I AM HERE TO SUPPLY LOVE 🥺❤️ honestly Yuki is my favorite from Fruits Basket, Haru being a close second and Kyo a close third!! I just don’t see enough Fruits Basket content on here so I thought maybe I’d make some, but this one is kinda shitty ngl. It was long but it just doesn’t feel like my best work. But, I’ve been working on this for a while, so I thought I’d post it anyway heh :)) I guess this means I officially write for Fruits Basket now!!!

It all started the 3rd of December, when your feelings for Yuki made themselves apparent. On that winter day, you were freezing because you weren’t wearing a warm enough coat and Yuki gave you his sweater while you two walked to school. Your cheeks warmed up quicker than the rest of your body as he smiled at you and wrapped his sweater around your shoulders. With a close-eyed smile, he warmly said that it looked better on you than it did on him; those words struck a cord in your heart, and from then on you accepted the fact that you had fallen for the boy who had become your closest friend.

Of course, you got shit for it from his fan club and they relayed all the rules of the fan club to you during lunch. But after that incident, some of the girls from the fan club began asking Yuki for his sweater, to which he shot them down nicely. That small action didn’t go unnoticed either, and made you feel like he only ever did that for you, and made you fall even harder for the Sohma.

It’s been months since that instance, and you haven’t said anything to him about your feelings because you didn’t want to look like another one of the girls from his fan club desperate for his attention and love. But, seeing as you two have grown closer and you’ve gained enough confidence to do something about your feelings, you decided yesterday that you would confess to him today.

You walk up to him in the hallway during passing period, slightly shaking from nerves, and get his attention by calling his name. He turns around and smiles at you, earning you a glare from the class president who was talking to him earlier.

“Oh, l/n-san, hello!” Yuki greets warmly.

“Hey Sohma-kun! Can I...” you start, but trail off as you see his eyes drift away from yours and land on someone behind you. You glance behind you and see Honda Tohru, your friend, walking down the hall with Uotani and Hanajima. When you look back at Yuki, you can see his eyes follow her figure as she passes, gazing softly. Seeing that makes your heart drop, along with your confidence level.

When he looks back at you, you shake out of your thoughts and quickly say, “uh, sorry, I meant to tell you I’m busy after school so I won’t be walking home with you guys today.”

A look of confusion crosses his features briefly, but is replaced with a smile as he answers with, “Oh, alright. I’ll let Honda-san know.”

You thank him with the best fake smile you can muster before quickly walking down the hall to your next class. When you’re far enough away, your smile drops, as does your gaze. You definitely took notice of how Yuki’s eyes seemed to brighten as he watched Tohru walk by, brighter than the blue sky. It was a look you were sure Yuki never bestowed upon you, but you understand why. Obviously, Tohru is very pretty; definitely a sight for sore eyes. She’s so kind and thoughtful, among other things, Her personality draws people to her, and you can understand why. And because you can understand why Yuki would gaze at her like that, your confidence plummeted and your confession got caught in your throat. But you didn’t want Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru to know your mood was gloomy, which is why you chose to walk home alone today.

They shouldn’t see you in such a down mood stemmed from jealousy; it’s not fair to them and it would only make you as mature as his fangirls. Jealousy is not a flattering color, after all.

On your walk home, the moment replayed in your head. Your brain kept trying to pick apart his facial expression, hoping to find some solace in the evidence of a misunderstanding. Finding optimism in the hopes of a misunderstanding, you walk along the street with your head held high, deciding to try again tomorrow.

But, oh how unfortunate you’d be this week.

The next morning, there’s news of chilly weather for the rest of the week, right when it was starting to warm up a little. It doesn’t matter much to you, seeing as you grab a nice coat this time to keep you warm. You walk out the door and see Yuki and Kyo standing in front of your house, waiting for you to join them on the walk to school. Their attention turns to you as you approach them, and they greet you. As you greet them back, Kyo shifts his stance a little to reveal Tohru standing behind him with a smile on her face...and Yuki’s sweater pulled over her uniform. The same sweater he had given you to wear in December. The sweater you thought he had only given you to wear.

And yet again, your confidence plummets into the floor. All you can do to keep your mood seemingly high is smile and remain silent on your walk to school. Yuki and Tohru are caught in a conversation the entire way, which Kyo sometimes comments on, but Kyo notices how quiet you’ve gotten and how you won’t make eye contact with any of them. He ruffles your hair, causing you to look up at him in surprise because he doesn’t do that unless he’s trying to lift your spirits.

“Do you wanna...talk after school?” He asks, turning his head away from you.

You smile, knowing he’s trying to give you support. Kyo was always like that; he does care a lot, but he doesn’t always know how to show it.

“Yes, thanks Kyo-kun.”

“Alright, spit it out.” Kyo says, leaning against the wall.

You sigh, turning your gaze to the ground as you try to explain everything to him. It all sounds really stupid to you when you say it out loud, like it’s not a big deal...but it feels like one. It feels like he’s messing with your emotions, but Yuki’s not the kind to do that intentionally. Once you’re done spilling your guts to Kyo, he continues to stare at the tree in front of him as your hands begin playing with the ends on your skirt.

“It’s stupid, I know. And it’s not like I hate Tohru-chan, I could never. She’s such an angel, I can understand why you’re both so drawn to her. In fact, it wouldn’t be surprising if Yuki was in love with her. I just...I wish...”

I wish I were Tohru.

That’s what you wanted to say. Jealously really is an ugly shade.

“Uhm, never mind, Kyo-kun! It’s nothing, I promise. I shouldn’t be complaining like this; I shouldn’t burden you with this nonsense, especially when it’s about someone you dislike.” You add quickly, concealing your true feelings with a close-eyed smile.

Kyo looks at you with wide eyes, surprised at your change of attitude. Sure, he doesn’t really care about anything that has to do with Yuki, but when it also concerns you, a close friend, he cares a lot. The fact that you tried to invalidate your feelings pisses him off, but he tries putting that aside as he faces your retreating form.

“W-Wait, y/n-”

“Uhm, let’s go Kyo-kun! I’m sure you don’t want to be here any longer than you already have to.” You smile at him, taking steps towards the school gates.

That fake happiness; the facade you’re hiding behind to mask your hurt feelings, it’s definitely becoming more transparent to Kyo as all the words you uttered about the issue swirl in his mind. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never cared about Yuki or what’s going on in his life, so how can he possibly give advice on an issue concerning him?

As you both walk in silence in the direction of your homes, Kyo replays your words over and over in his head, trying to think of something to say to encourage you in some way.

“L-Listen, don’t give up so easily y/n! Just tell him how you feel, I mean you’ve come this far! You know how much I hate that rat, but he’s not...a bad guy. And if I’m wrong and he breaks your heart, I’ll break his stupid face for you!”

You look up at Kyo in surprise, cause you know that must’ve taken a lot out of him to say something semi-nice about Yuki. He doesn’t dare make eye contact; his head faces away from you as his shoulders tense and he balls his fists. Something about how reluctant he is to admit it makes you laugh, and your laugh causes his eyes to widen as he looks at you.

“What? Are you laughing at me?!” He exclaims.

You shake your head with a soft smile on your face, a genuine smile.

“Nope, nothing of the sort. Thanks Kyo-kun, I won’t give up on my confession! Yuki and I planned a study session for tomorrow, so I’ll plan to confess to him then!”

“Good.”

After you changed out of your uniform at home, you set off for the Sohma residence. It’s not a long walk from your house to Yuki’s, so you slow your pace a bit to take in the scenery and steel your nerves.

After talking with Kyo yesterday, you hadn’t exactly figured out how you were going to tell him, or even when. Lucky for you, the study session you both had planned a week ago was an early one; close to right after school, maybe about an hour or two off?

After trekking up those myriad stone steps, you knock on the door of the Sohma residence. After a couple seconds, you hear Shigure’s voice on the other side of the door as he slides it open.

“Ah, y/n-chan! Hello!” Shigure greets with a smile.

“Hi Shigure-san, is Sohma-kun here?” You ask, smiling back at him.

“Oh, Yuki-kun? He’s been gone for about an hour or so with Tohru-chan. I’m not sure when he’ll be back, but would you like to wait for him here?”

Oh. He’s out with Tohru. Even though you guys had plans. It’s likely that he forgot, but it’s not like you guys made these plans a while ago; it’s been a week!

Your smile falters a bit, but remains on your face as you answer Shigure with, “Oh, I see. Thank you for offering, but I think I’m just going to head home then! Have a good day, Shigure-san!”

You bow to him before turning around and stopping in your tracks. At the top of the steps stands Kyo, staring at you with confusion written all over his face. You walk up to him and smile before trying to walk past him.

“Wait, y/n, what happened? I thought you and the rat were studying today.” Kyo asks, causing you to halt.

You bite your lip, swallowing your emotions, before turning back to Kyo with a pained smile and answering with, “He’s out with Tohru-chan right now. It’s fine, he probably just forgot. I’m just, uh, gonna head home now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kyo-kun!”

Kyo stands there in disbelief as he watches you walk down the steps. He’s pissed now; after he admitted the rat wasn’t a bad guy, he does something like this. To his close friend, of all people! Don’t you mean more to the rat than anyone else?

Kyo grits his teeth as he runs to the house to ask Shigure where Yuki and Tohru are. Shigure gives him the vague answer of a certain shopping district across the city, and Kyo sets out to find Yuki to set him straight. The image of your sadness seeping into your smile is burned in Kyo’s mind, making him even more upset.

Kyo makes it to the shopping district about a half hour later, running from shop to shop. He asks store clerks if they’ve seen anyone matching the descriptions of Yuki and Tohru, but each one says they haven’t. Hours pass before Kyo approaches the last store and sees the silver-haired male standing outside with Tohru by his side, looking like they’re having a grand time. Kyo runs up to the two and grabs Yuki by the collar of his shirt, causing Yuki to stare at him in surprise and annoyance.

“You stupid rat! How thoughtless are you?!” Kyo starts, tightening his grip on his shirt.

“Let go of me, stupid cat.” Yuki deadpans.

“Does y/n mean nothing to you?! How dare you treat her like trash!”

“What are you talking about?!”

“You ditched your study session with her today to go out with Tohru! Do you enjoy hurting her or something?! Cause you seem to be doing that a lot lately! Do you not care about her?! If you don’t, then why don’t you just say it to her face instead of making her sad every day!”

Yuki’s eyes widen as realization hits; he totally forgot about the plans he made with you today. The guilt he feels outweighs the anger swirling in his chest every time Kyo accuses him of not caring about you. He pushes Kyo off of him and hands Tohru the bags in his hands, all except for one.

“I’m sorry, Honda-san! I have to go!” Yuki apologizes quickly before sprinting out of the shopping district.

Yuki scolds himself for being oblivious to your feelings as he runs down seemingly endless streets. Yuki always cared for you; you were the one close friend he had before Tohru came into his life. Lately he’s noticed that thoughts of you are all that consume his mind at night, and the way he feels different around you than around anyone else. But, our poor Yuki has never felt this way before; he doesn’t know why he feels like this or what to do about it.

But when he heard that he forgot about his plans he made with you, and how that hurt you, he felt like the lowest of the low. How could he skip out on plans with you? How could he hurt you?

The sun begins to set as more tears adorn your notes. You weren’t really sure why you were so upset; it’s okay that Yuki is happy with Tohru. It’s not even a big deal that he forgot about your plans...so why did it hurt most to think he forgot about you? All these doubts begin swarming your head, causing more tears to fall, as you hear knocks on the front door.

You quickly wipe the falling tears as you walk to the door, trying to compose yourself for whichever visitor stood at your door. Your eyes widen as you open the door to see a heavily panting Yuki standing in front of you. You quickly plaster a smile on your face as you attempt to greet him.

“Sohma-kun? Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

“l/n-san, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot about our plans today and went shopping with Honda-san. I never meant to make you sad, I just-”

“Yuki-kun, can we...talk? Somewhere else? Let’s, uhm, go for a walk real quick.”

You grab a pair of slip-ons by the door and head outside, leading Yuki to a nearby kid’s playground. You both sit on the swings and silence envelopes you two as you gather your thoughts. Yuki stares at you as you stare at the ground, waiting for you to scold him or do anything to let him know you were fine.

“Yuki-kun...I still remember the third of December; me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you. Only if you knew...how much I liked you. How much I still like you. I remember how every girl from your fan club asked you for your sweatshirt, and how I felt special when you turned them down. But, I’ve seen the way you look at Tohru-chan when she walks by. And I get it, Tohru-chan is very beautiful. What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky. And I’ve been noticing lately how your gaze on her lingers, and how your face softens when you speak to her. You gave her your sweater to wear, too...not that it matters, I guess. Anyway, as my feelings for you continue to grow, I begin to see...and understand, how and why you like Tohru-chan so much. I mean, she’s an angel! She’s so kind, thoughtful, and caring...I understand why you’d want her. And why you wouldn’t want me. I mean, why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty. You gave her your sweater; it’s just polyester. But, you like her better. And I’m able to accept that, as long as you’re happy, Yuki-kun! I just...sometimes...I wish I were Tohru-chan.”

Yuki stares at you in disbelief as you continue staring at your feet, a single tear falling from your eye. He really is oblivious. His brain can’t even begin to compute the misunderstanding going on here. After all, he has feelings for you too. So, just how did it end up so bad, he wonders. He finds it so hard to believe you reciprocate his feelings, and that while trying to find a way to confess to you, he was hurting you instead.

“I-I love you, Yuki-ku-”

Yuki’s body moves as if on instinct, kneeling in front of you with his hands caressing the sides of your face. He smashes his lips against yours, only realizing what he’s doing once he feels you kiss him back. He pulls away almost as quickly as he placed his lips on yours, a blush creeping onto his face. You stare at him with wide eyes as he collects his composure and wipes a stray tear from your eye.

“l/n-san, I...I love you, too. What you saw between Honda-san and I is a big misunderstanding, and I’m sorry not seeing how I was hurting you. I’ve been spending more time with Honda-san this past week because she was helping me figure out a way to confess to you. Shigure suggested making you jealous like the love interests in his romance novels, and I honestly don’t know why I listened to him; I knew it was a terrible idea. But, that’s why Honda-san was wearing my sweater yesterday. When I thought that didn’t work, Honda-san suggested getting you a gift, which is why we went shopping today. I was so caught up in trying to make you happy that I forgot we made plans today. And instead of making you happy, I made you cry. Love isn’t really a feeling I’m fond of; I’ve never really experienced feelings this intense before. It took me a while to realize you were the reason my heartbeat quickened; why my stomach did flips, why warmth would spread in my chest. But when I found myself wanting to be with you every waking hour, I panicked. Truth be told, you’re the person I hold closest to my heart. I don’t let people in...from experience. There’s so much darkness that doesn’t reach the surface, so many things I can’t say just yet. But I will tell you in time, because you’re the person I trust most, and I’m learning slowly how to let people in. In the meantime, the one thing I can say with certainty, is that I love you...and I want to make you happy, if you’ll let me.”

Yuki takes your hands in his and smiles warmly at you. Worried that words will fail you, you nod with a grin on your face. The night air sends chills down your spine as you gaze happily at the boy in front of you. Yuki takes notice of the goosebumps rising on your skin and smirks a little, pulling his hands away from yours to grab the bag on the ground next to him.

He hands it to you while saying, “I have a feeling this’ll come in handy right about now.”

You take the bag from his hands and open it, revealing a familiar sweater. You press it against your chest, smiling at Yuki. You look down at his sweater and realize he's wearing the same one; he got you a matching sweater.

“You just looked so cute when you wore mine...” He smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I love it, Yuki-kun! Thank you!” You exclaim, throwing it on.

It was just polyester, but it now meant more to you than you thought it ever could.

#fruits basket #yuki sohma #yuki x reader #anime #fruits basket x reader #song fic #fruits basket one shot #kyo sohma #tohru honda #yuki sohma one shot #this is bad #fruits basket writing #heather by conan gray #rat boy is precious #he deserves love

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lyricalvillain · 3 years

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TFaWS Spoilers Below!

Okay. Okay. Can we frigging talk about Falcon and Winter Soldier stuff real quick? Cause like... I'm blown away by all the emotional stuff going on here. I am loving where this is going so far and the intense issues the characters are struggling with and how wonderful the Actors are doing right now.

Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie)

Anthony Mackie is a national treasure. I love his portrayal of Sam Wilson. He does an astounding job. He has such an expressive face and he uses it to break my heart.

His character is going through a lot right now. He just got back from being dead for five years. People mourned him, his family mourned him. He is trying to reintegrate himself into the world and his loved one's lives. Which is even harder when there's a five year gap of missing time to account for. Right away in Ep1 he's given shit from a banker about that five year gap in employment. (Which, excuse me sir who raised you???)

All while coming to terms with the fact that Steve is gone. Steve is gone and he dropped this monumental legacy onto Sam's shoulders.

And Sam felt he didn't fit that role, felt like he was standing in this massive shadow cast by what people expected from Steve (and now what they expect from Sam). His speech about needing new heros, and letting the shield rest because noone could live up to Steve-- wonderful. Beautifully delivered. Mackie is killing it portraying Sam. Just. A++

And the cinematography in that moment. The massive image of Steve looming over Sam. Really pushing how Sam feels in that moment.

He felt that the shield, the legacy, the title belonged to someone else. He had his own name, his own legacy that he was building. His own identity. I can see how he wouldn't want to give up being Falcon and pick up Steve's shield.

But that made the end of ep announcement of the new Captain America all the more heart wrenching, like seriously I wanted to cry. Because Sam trusted that the shield and uniform would be kept at the museum. Trusted that his decision and wishes would be respected. And oh god, how they rolled over that without a seconds hesitation.

The entirety of episode two was just triggering for both of our boys. Sam was constantly being reminded of how he gave up the shield. It’s the first thing Bucky says to him, and it’s the thing Bucky focuses on the most. Sam is probably already furious that this is happening and John Walker isn’t helping that either.

“It would be easier if I had Cap’s wingmen to back me up.”

Sam’s reaction to this was very telling. He was with the guy up until this point it seemed. As soon as he said this, Sam left. And I think it has a lot to do with him having his own autonomy as a hero, his own identity, his own legacy. He is very focused on who is behind the symbol, the person behind the symbol. (I also think Sam may have some Imposter syndrome going on, maybe?) He helped take down Thanos, take down Hydra. He’s put the work in, he's made a name for hinself. So when John says he's put the work in. I feel like that's just insult to injury right there for Sam.

While I doubt John meant any harm, he definitely stuck his foot in his mouth. It seemed like he thought of Bucky and Sam as accessories instead of their own individual people. Like they didn’t have issues and lives outside of being brushed off and put in play for whatever Cap needed them for.

Sam was with Steve because they were friends, why would he ally himself with John Walker, a man who had taken up the mantle he had tried to lay to rest, a man he didn’t know at all? A man who didn’t know him at all.

And don’t get me started on the cops man, they called for BACKUP. They stopped because they judged someone based on the color of their skin, and the backup arrived as they figured out who they were harassing. Fucking systemic racism, man. (Good job portraying that as well though.)

Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan)

Bucky... God damn. What a mess. Tragic back story to the max, add in a dash of survivors guilt, self worth issues a mile wide. And lets not forget the trust issues. We have those too.

We all know his past, the brainwashed assassin with no real name. Treated like a weapon, stripped of humanity and autonomy.

He was a fugitive for probably about four years spent some more time on ice in Wakanda, and then vanished for five. He comes back to help kick Thanos' butt and then Steve... Just leaves him to live his life in the past. For Steve it's been a long time. Steve lived through those five years without Sam or Bucky. But for Bucky it was only yesterday that they had been fighting to stop Thanos. He hasn't been able to integrate properly into society. He only had Steve and by extension Sam.

So now he's left to integrate on his own. Steve was his anchor, and he's adrift in the future where he only consistently talks to his therapist and a man who's son he murdered.

He is not okay.

In episode one and two we see just how not okay he is. He's mired in his past, clinging to the vestiges of his combat experience and skill set he picked up as the winter soldier. Sam tells him he's not a spy anymore and Bucky fights to be able to help, to feel relevant again.

Hes so focused on Steve's shield. I like to think its partially because of what Steve's trust symbolized to him, and also because it's tied so closely with Steve's memory that seeing someone, that Steve didn't give it to, wield it bugs him. Steve's last wish was for Sam to pick up the title.

The revelation that he was trying so hard because Steve believed in him broke my heart. Especially once he started doubting that faith his friend had in him.

"What was rule two again, Doc?"

Nobody gets hurt. But I wonder if bucky was implying that he has been hurt. I mean probably, Sam said some hurtful things, they both did. And they're both snarky and defensive. Still Bucky will help Sam, because even though they argue and fight, they're friends, united in grief and trauma. I just have so many feelings about my boys guys.

John Walker (Wyatt Russell)

I’m not gonna lie I expected to hate John, in fact the ending of the first episode just begs you to hate him. I don’t love him. But surprisingly I also definitely don’t hate him. He is a giant dumbass though.

So firstly, this dude is from the comics, he’s eventually known as U.S. Agent.

He operates within the confines of the law, and is basically the government’s lap dog at this point. Whereas Steve, as Captain America, had gone against orders multiple times, against the law even, to do what he thought was right. Despite the obvious differences in their character so far, there is a parallel we can draw between John and Steve and even John and Sam.

John feels that pressure that Sam felt in Episode one. It’s the first thing he really talks about. He doesn't want to let the people down.

He has been used as a marketing tool very much like Steve. Propaganda posters, the works. He tells his friend (high-school sweetheart?) that he wants to just “do the job” like Steve did. He’s frustrated about being paraded around, surrounded by dancing girls and stuffed in front of cameras.

As irritatingly confident as he seems, there is a lot of doubt and nerves in this guy. He is also… not enhanced. He’s just slightly above average for a human.

“I’m not trying to replace Steve, I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be.” This was honesty, there was frustration in the lines. He probably feels overwhelmed, he is reaching out for help from people who knew Cap best and are best equipped to help him take down the Flag Smashers.

Later when he shows up to bail Bucky out, he made a few more mistakes. Firstly, the therapy thing. Ordering his therapy to clear him so he wouldn’t be tied up was just short sighted and selfish. He may have thought he was doing Bucky a favor seeing as the therapy was court mandated, but Bucky NEEDS that therapy. His therapist was the only person he had regular contact with that wasn’t emotionally torturous for him.

Also calling Bucky an asset. DUDE. This man was referred to as “The Asset” for 70 YEARS. He was brainwashed and treated like a thing, didn’t have a name, wasn’t allowed to decide things for himself. So John swooping in and making the decision to “liberate him” from therapy because he was “a valuable asset”? John, buddy, pal. Maybe don’t. Maybe take you “I know what’s best” shtick somewhere else okay?

He knows who these men are, and he’s trying to be helpful and supportive to get them to like him, trust him and work with him. But that’s hard when you don’t KNOW these men and what they’re suffering through. John is just going to trample all over their emotional minefield.

That’s it from me, thanks for reading through my rambling thoughts on fictional characters guys! I'm going to go cry in a corner until next week.

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s-creations · 3 years

Text

Oh, That Imagination

Kids will always have active imaginations. But how the adult handles it depends on what the child is afraid of.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros Rating: General Audience Relationships/Pairings: José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Growing up, Uncles with their Nephews, Facing Fears, Worries, hunting a creature, Krampus (character), giving a speech, watching a scary movie, protecting the boys, the passing of time, names OCs.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author Note: I finished Student Teaching and passed my Content Test, so I’m getting back into writing! I do have a new job lined up for the school year. We’ll see how consistent I stay with uploading. XD

“Unca Donald, Unca Donald, Unca Donald!”

Even with the loud warning call, Donald still staggers when something blue collides against his leg. “Dishes! I’m doing dishes. Go and sit on the counter please.”

6-year-old Dewey gave a quick nod before clamoring up. The older duck impressed by how quickly the duckling could climb.

“Now, what can I help you with?”

“Benny said there’s a-a monster living in the sewage of Duckberg! I wanna go catch it!”

Donald let out a low hum as he washed the soap from the glass. This was twice in two weeks that neighbor Benny had told some story about some ‘creature’ they had seen. Dewey, always on the lookout for new adventures, ate each story up with determination and gusto.

“I see, very interesting. What does this monster look like?”

“Like...Like an alligator. Only bigger!”

“Ooooh, that sounds scary. And you’re going to catch them all by yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Well, aren’t you brave. Are you going to bring them back to be studied for science?”

“I’m gonna do it to rub it in Huey’s face. Cuz he says the creature isn’t real. But I’m gonna prove him wrong!”

“It sounds like your afternoon is full.”

“It sure is! Oh, wait, I wanted to ask you if we have a large net that I could use?”

“I don’t think we have a ‘large’ net. You’ll have your bug catching net.”

Dewey let out a contemplative hum. Hand resting on his cheek while his pointer finger tapped out some unknown tempo. A habit he picked up from José. “That’s not great. But I suppose it’ll have to do.”

“Look at you compromising. What are you going to use as bait?”

“Do we have any old lunch meat?”

“No and you’re not using what we have in the fridge.”

“You’re ruining the search Unca Donald! I need bait.”

“How about you take Tio Panchito with you? He had to help his grandpa search for farm animals when they got out of their pens. Didn’t have to use bait to get those animals back.”

“Tio worked on a farm?” Dewey’s eyes lit up hearing this new piece of information.

“Spent a few childhood Summers there.”

“What did he do?”

“Why don’t you go and ask him? I’m sure he would be more than happy to share stories with you and your brothers.”

“Okay, bye Unca Donald! I’m gonna learn about cows!”

Donald silently laughed as Dewey raced out of the kitchen. Childhood stories continued during dinner and only ended when the triplets were put to bed.

“So...should I question why Dewey furiously ran at me this afternoon? All while screaming his demands for me to tell stories?” The rooster asked as Donald joined him and José on the living room couch.

“Apparently, Benny had seen some ‘creature’ in the sewer system. Dewey determined that he was going to hunt said being down. I told him you would help in the search because you’ve helped with finding lost farm animals. That caught his attention and now you know the outcome.” Donald sighed as he leaned against the other, relaxing.

“Do you think the thrill of the hunt will call out to Dewey tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.” Donald replied back simply.

The hunt did not call out the next day. Dewey focused on creating a backyard zoo, he didn’t have time to worry about some creature. A few days later, a pet iguana was rescued from the neighborhood sewers. It appears Benny had actually seen something. It just wasn’t the towering creature he’d claimed before.

________________

The holidays were busy for all the adults in the household. Donald focused on getting the shopping done and holding down the fort while the ducklings raced around during their school break. Gleefully talking about Santa and what present they’re excited most about. José would be gone for weeks on end leading up to December 25, helping with numerous flights to make sure he had that day off. Starting from October through December, this time saw Panchito with booked weekends of different performances to help get other families into the festive feeling.

Even with having busy and exhausting schedules, they made sure to make time for the triplets. Baking, decorating the house, helping them pick out gifts for the other family members. Every year it was the goal to keep the ducklings as happy as possible.

Which is why Panchito became worried when 7-year-old Louie started acting...strange. Almost what the rooster would call ‘stressed’.

The duckling had started being overly helpful around the house. Doing more tasks than what would be required. Going out of his way to ask if he could help. And, most worriedly, he’d become quiet. Not in his normal way of just relaxing in front of the television. But almost fearful that he was being listened to by some unseen stranger. Eyes even darting around as he moved through the apartment.

Unfortunately, Panchito wasn’t able to approach this possible problem until a weekend late into the duckling’s break.

The rooster let out a sigh as he collapsed onto the couch. Thankful that he was done until the New Year’s celebrations he had the coming weekend. But he was able to relax for the rest of the week to celebrate Christmas. Cautious footsteps drawing closer caused Panchito to open his eyes. Finding Louis standing nervously in the middle of the room.

“Hola Louie, what can I do for you?”

“Um, do you need me to get you anything?”

Panchito raised a brow. “No, I’m fine. Why don’t you join me until dinner’s ready?”

“Oh, um, that’s okay. Maybe I should see if Uncle Donald needs any help.”

“You’re on break. Why don’t you just sit for a while?” The duckling frowned, eyes darting around before settling onto the couch. Still tense. “So, how has school been? I haven’t heard you and your brothers talk about it for a while.”

“Uh...good.”

“Just good? ...Try out any new schemes lately? I know Uncle Donald isn’t so thrilled when you do that. But you always have such clever ideas, makes me laugh.”

“Nope, I’ve been good! No crazy plans from me!”

Panchito sat up a little more when Louie started shouting at the ceiling. “Okay Louie, what’s going on. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at school?”

The duckling dressed in green wrung his hands as he peered around.

“...Abby told me about the Krampus…” Louie eventually whispered.

“The who?”

“The Krampus! He’s the opposite of Santa Claus! A big creature with long horns and wears a cloak! And he comes after bad boys and girls! He takes them away in his large, greasy bag and they’re never seen again and-”

“Okay, Louie, come here. You’re getting yourself worked up.” Panchito easily and quickly moved the duckling onto his lap. Wrapping arms around the smaller form to help keep Louie grounded. “Breath with me. We’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

Louie gave two quick nods. They remained this way for a few minutes, Panchito holding the duckling close and controlling his breathing for Louie to follow. The rooster only pulled away when Louie had calmed down enough to talk. “Okay, so, you were told a scary story. Why are you worried?”

“Because he goes after bad kids and I know I’m...not good.”

“Why would you say that? You’re a wonderful kid!”

“But I get the most detentions and I’m lazy and I know I don’t do my homework when I need to and-”

‘Louie… Yes, we would like you to work a little harder than what you do now. But you’re not bad. You...take risks. You have a point of view that I’ve never seen before. You’re a clever kid. And, well, between you and me.”

Panchito leaned closer. Louie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “You fight the system and you don’t let them beat you down.”

“...Does that mean I don’t have to wash the dishes?”

“Don’t push your luck. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not bad. You just think differently than others. Plus, if you’re this worried, this might be a sign you should help out more. But I doubt any Krampus will come after you.”

“Really?”

“Really… Also, you know your uncles and I would beat up any creature who dares try to hurt you.”

Louie laughed. Beaming and squirming as Panchito placed a kiss on his cheek. Christmas Day arrived with no mysterious creatures knocking in their front door. Louie was still safely tucked away in his bed. Joining his brothers with running out to the living room and unwrapping presents. Curling next to Panchito as all enjoyed the afternoon glow while watching a marathon of movies.

________________

Huey took to the Junior Woodchucks like a duck to water.

From day one it became a large part of his identity. He carried his handbook around with him everywhere. Writing his own notes and entries to add to the already thick volume. Gleefully patting his knees as he patiently waited for whatever uncle was going to take him to the weekly meetings. Even learning how to iron his uniform to keep it in tip top shape.

Dewey may complain that the eagerness was annoying. But nothing seemed to damper Huey’s spirit.

Until Huey was tasked to write a speech. As he was top ranked among the troop, he was given the honor of addressing the new member that would be joining that year. A banquet being held with the duckling presenting a speech of his own at the beginning of the event. The duckling was absolutely thrilled at first. Telling everyone he could about the great honor bestowed onto him.

All in the family thought he would triumph over this just like many other things in his life.

José was humming softly one evening, making his way to the kitchen when he heard sniffing coming from the bathroom. The door opened a crack and, taking a risk, José peered in. He found 8-year-old Huey, curled up by the tub and far away from the door. A stack of paper was at the duckling’s feet. Red rimmed eyes glaring at said stack.

“Huey?”

Said duckling’s head snapped up hearing José. Wiping his eyes frantically. “T-Tio José…”

“Criança doce, what is wrong?” José entered, leaving the door open in case Huey wanted out.

The duckling sniffed weakly. “...I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“My speech…”

José frowned, knowing how excited Huey had been only a few days ago. “Can you tell me what you are scared about?”

Huey let out another sniff. His hand starting to hit the side of the tub as time went on. Which José put a stop to by reaching out to take the duckling’s hand. “I’m scared...that people are going to laugh at me. I keep practicing my speech to make it perfect and I read a bunch of tips but… All I can think about is messing up and people mocking me. Then my scout leader will see me as a failure and strip me of my badges and-”

The parrot pulled the duckling closer, humming a lullaby softly. Huey instantly clung to José, burying himself away in his guardian’s chest. It took a few minutes before the duckling finally relaxed, slumped against the older, hand still keeping a good grip on José's shirt.

“Huey, I would like for you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” José received a nod, “I will help you with your speech. But you have nothing to worry about. Your scout leader seems to be nothing of the kind who would take away what you’ve achieved. And no one will laugh. We all know you will be doing your best.”

“...But what if my best isn’t enough?”

“It always will be Huey. Never doubt that.” José peered up hearing the floorboards creek. Finding Donald standing in the doorway wearing a look of worry. The parrot gave a quick shake of his head. A silent message that he had a handle on the situation. Donald gave a nod of his own before sneaking off. “Feeling better?”

“...A little. I’m still scared.”

“That is fine. How about we make some cookies? I think I saw your Uncle Donald heading that way before. And while we are doing that, you can show me your speech.”

Huey sniffed weakly. Pulling back slightly to look up at José. “Chocolate chip?”

“Of course.”

The duckling smiled weakly and nodded. Donald greeted the two with wide arms and a smile when they walked in. Huey beamed as he was picked up and given a sturdy hug from his other uncle as José started the process. But uncles gave Huey their undivided attention when he gave his speech. The other members of the family joined them as the cookies started to bake. Dewey and Louie keeping their ‘helpful’ comments to themselves and clapping along when Huey finished.

At the night of the banquet, Huey beamed as he gave a flawless speech. His family cheered the loudest.

________________

“This is such a bad idea.”

9-year-old Louie huffed, rolling his eyes as Huey bemoaned at his flawless plan. “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then don’t watch.”

“But I want to see it.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“The movie is PG-13! We need parental guidance to watch.”

“You know they won’t let us watch.” Dewey added.

“But-”

“You get two options here Hubert,” Louie interrupted. One hand holding up a finger to keep Huey quiet. The other holding the latest zombie movie that had just recently been release to DVD, “You either watch with your mouth shut. Or you leave and keep your mouth shut in the bed while you listen to the amazingness that is this movie from the closed doors. What’s it going to be?”

Huey frowned. But he ‘zipped’ his bill closed and crossed his arms. Which the green-hoodied triplet took as keeping his mouth shut. With a nod, Louie popped the movie in and sat next to his brothers. All three were huddled together in the closet. Eyes glued to the small t.v. screen that was crammed in with them as well. The movie menu soon appeared and Dewey pressed play.

Donald let out a content sigh as he relaxed further between his partners. Panchito clinging to him as Donald’s head was tucked under the rooster’s chin. While José was curled up at Donald’s side, using the duck’s chest as a pillow. That night was quiet and calm. There was a weekend ahead of them that was just filled with nothing. A relaxing time with his partners and kids. It was going to be great…

A chorus of screams sounded from the triplet’s room. All adults were up and racing out in only a few seconds. Even hard to wake José was on full alert. Donald reached the door first, flinging it open. Fully expecting to see an intruder standing in the middle of the bedroom. Only to find Huey and Louie, sobbing as they clung to each other on the younger triplet’s bed. Dewey was waving his plastic sword at the open closet. His entire being was shaking as wide, fearful eyes were on the open space.

“What is going on here?” Donald called out over the noise.

“There’s a zombie in the closet!” Louis answered.

“It touched me!” Huey added.

“I’m fighting it off!” Dewey finished.

“What- okay- Dewey stop swinging that around!” Panchito walked over and pulled the sword from the duckling. Collecting the blue cladded triplet as he continued to shake.

Donald gathers the other two. Both of them desperately slings to the protection that was their uncle. José took to the closet, making sure it was empty. The parrot raised a brow, finding the t.v. that was still on and playing a movie.

He reached in to eject the movie and brought it out for the other two to see. “Donald.”

The duck looked it over. Frowning, seeing the topic, letting out a slow breath. It was clear the triplets were in no condition to have a stern talking to. Plus, he was honestly too tired to worry about it at the moment. “Okay...let’s go back to our room.”

The other two adults nodded. José turned off the lights as he was the last to leave the boy’s room. Donald rested himself back into the middle of the bed, only with more bodies pressed around him. Panchito cleverly left the bedside light on before he laid down on the bed, Dewey resting on his chest. The triplets flinched when José walked in.

“It is just me.” The parrot assured.

Donald let out a sigh as he gently preened the top of each head. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get you.”

The bed was pressed further down as José laid down. Huey clamoring over into the parrot’s hold. Donald was free to wrap both arms around Louie. Three voices began to hum a familiar lullaby in hope of calming the triplets further. Even with their comforting presence, it took awhile for the three to fall asleep. It was not the way Donald wanted to start his weekend. But he should have known nothing he plans ever goes his way. Even with this hiccup, he was happy to have his family close. Falling asleep with a smile on his face.

Donald was able to take his pent up frustration on the idiot who had allowed children to rent a horror movie. Panchito coming as back up to make sure the duck didn’t kill anyone.

#donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchito pistoles #The Three Caballeros #the three gay caballeros #s-creations

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 3 years

Text

Music for the Soul

Summary: Soulmate AU where the song your soulmate is thinking of gets stuck in your head.

This fic is inspired by and gifted to @yellowpaintpots.

Notes: canonical, this is S2 E6 and a little beyond but it’s not exactly like the show obviously.

AO3

Kurt Hummel was used to not fitting in. At McKinley High, he was often an odd man out. He did partner projects alone, he held his tongue around bullies and had no one to complain to, and most days, he had an entire lunch table to himself. No one sat with the kid in weird, homemade clothes unless there was no other choice.

What kept him going was music. He had one earbud in as he walked down the halls. Choosing from playlists his mother used to listen to, Broadway soundtracks sung by people still performing on stage today, and to the thrill of his father, rock classics. If Burt Hummel had passed anything onto his son, it was his music tastes and the fantastical idea of soulmates.

The image of a white knight coming to save him by serenade was one that haunted him before he fell asleep. A boy, which little eleven-year-old Kurt held close to his heart, picked out by the universe meant just for him. Even when he started to find the fantasy a little too cheesy, it kept Kurt going until he found the glee club.

No one could touch him or change him because there was someone out there who would love him exactly the way he was.

The New Directions were a hot mess when they started, of course. The 5 of them weren’t winning any competitions when they first found themselves in the choir room but they were five misfits who finally had friends. People who understood the passion of music and an adult who shared that same passion and would hopefully guide them to their dream futures.

Just months later, they became a mixture of a dozen sophomores and freshmen with a Sectionals win under their belt all ready to face the Dalton Academy Warblers in a few weeks. With Regionals looming over them, glee had become much messier than usual. With plenty of in-fighting about solos and song choices, the choir room was always a jumbled, loud mess. That is until Mr. Schue came up with the idea for a school musical. It was taking their minds off of Regionals for the time being.

Kurt was all too happy to be auditioning for a role instead of sitting in the back row wishing he had a shot at a solo. His voice was too unique for Ohio. But someday, he knew, it would get him to Broadway. He held that thought close to his heart while tuning out Rachel’s insistence bickering.

Yesterday, Mr. Schue had decided their school musical was going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Kurt loved cult classics as much as the next person but he wasn’t sure how Mr. Schue had gotten this approved by Figgins. It seemed too risqué for high schoolers.

He only hoped whoever his soulmate was enjoying the soundtrack he had stuck in his head this week.

Kurt planned on auditioning for Riff Raff. Already putting mental outfits from his closet to wear. The wound of Mr. Schue assuming he’d play Frank N. Furter based solely on the fact that he was gay was still fresh but his audition was going to blow everyone away.

He had chosen “Dammit Janet” for his audition despite it being a Brad and Janet duet. Quinn, who was hoping for Magenta, was going to be his partner. They had joked about the main roles already being off the table before auditions; it was clear Mr. Schue had chosen Finn and Rachel for the leads. It was hard to be upset when Quinn had instantly offered to do a joint audition with him. Their voices went so well together and Kurt liked spending time with her.

Ever since Kurt and Mercedes had their stint as Cheerios, they had gotten closer. The three of them even had a weekend sleepover this past Saturday. Mercedes had dumped the Cheerios but Kurt stayed on and Quinn had just gotten back on the squad after her dismissal last year. Coach Sue had them sing during practice last week and Quinn was waiting for him after their showers with the suggestion of a double audition song.

They had been having rehearsals in the auditorium during their shared free period and twice after glee club on days when it wasn’t already reserved. As the day came closer, Quinn offered her house to practice in since her parents were rarely home and so Finn wouldn’t become Rachel's spy. Though, Kurt assured her Finn was much too engrossed in video games to bother with their rehearsals.

Since they increased their run-throughs, Kurt’s had one song in his head all morning. In case the lyrics weren’t already ingrained into his head, he had his own little concert in his head. Just after lunch, that changed. A mere 3 hours until his audition after school his soulmate’s music had taken root. As much as Kurt was willing to bow down to the queens of pop, what he wouldn’t give for 5 minutes of something other than Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream”. This bubble gum pop song had gone from ‘oh, that’s a good song to scream in the car’ to ‘if I hear it one more time, I’ll rip my ears off’ fairly quickly.

It hadn’t helped that his brain went from one song on repeat to another.

As he sits in geometry, he tries to hear Mr. Finnegan’s explanation of arcs but his brain has other plans.

Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans.

Kurt knows it’s just a song but the image is so clear in his head.

Smooth, soft skin. Obviously, someone who used lotions regularly, Kurt expected nothing less from his soulmate. Neatly trimmed fingernails so they wouldn’t catch on Kurt’s pants when fingers trailed up to cup his knee. The grip would be teasingly light. He never let his fantasies get too far. Especially outside the privacy of his bedroom. In all honesty, even when he was alone in his bed at night envisioning the same kind of scenario, Kurt didn’t really know what came next. He wasn’t even sure what kissing really entailed.

What if his soulmate is ready for...certain things...Kurt’s not even to verbalize yet. What if he’s imagining their first meeting very differently then Kurt, who’s hopeful they’ll have coffee or a meal together before they do anything besides maybe hand-holding. The touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets, unless you ask Katy Perry it seems.

He spends the rest of math wondering what the boy with Katy Perry in his head must look like. Kurt wonders if his soulmate wears bright colors like his idol or maybe Katy is a secret shame that he’ll only share with Kurt.

…

Blaine liked fitting in. He enjoyed the uniform for many reasons. One, he thought the blazer looked stylish. It was also nice knowing what you had to wear every day, one less thing to worry about people judging you for. Plenty of people at his old school picked on him for his bow ties but at Dalton, everyone had neckwear. The standard blue and red striped tie. He liked how neat it was; there was a certain way to wear said uniform.

Everyone was the same here. No typical hierarchy of jocks and cheerleaders. Only the Warblers stood out simply because everyone knew them.

How could you forget a group of boys singing acapella at all hours of the day?

Blaine might joke that they’re teenage rockstars but really they are just a group of talented guys who liked to sing.

The Warblers were the first real friends he ever had.

When he was still attending public school he held tightly to the idea of his soulmate since it seemed hopeless to wish for friendship. Not when he was being harassed for a sexuality he wasn’t sure of yet and being pushed to the ground in the parking lot for it.

But a soulmate was a guarantee. Everyone had one. By the time Blaine reached eighth grade, he knew. All of those middle school bullies had used words Blaine didn’t quite understand until that moment.

He was surrounded in the parking lot after school having missed his bus because someone had stuck gum in his curls during last period. That was the day Blaine started to seriously consider investing in some gel. Maybe that would prevent some bullying. Anyway, he was surrounded, being literally kicked around by a group of soccer players and friends.

Other students had gathered to watch the so-called fight but Blaine thought their chants would only grab the attention of a teacher or so he hoped. No one came quickly. He had enough injuries by the end for his mom to insist on a trip to the ER. A big black eye and sprained his wrist along with plenty of bruising on his limbs.

But he honestly didn’t remember getting hurt beyond the initial pushing to the ground. When the bullying got bad like this he pulled out those daydreams. This time around it wasn’t this blurry image of hand holding, there was a boy. Blaine hadn’t seen his face but his voice was soft and comforting, inviting Blaine in. There was an outstretched hand just out of reach for Blaine to take. Blaine knew then. His soulmate was a boy.

When everything was over and he was being released by the doctor, all he knew was there was some boy built perfectly for Blaine just waiting to be found. Waiting for him.

He hadn’t even been upset by his injuries because he was sitting with these thoughts of ‘how do I come out to my parents?’

Instead of deciding that day, he kept those daydreams close to his heart for the next year and a half. Until the issue of high school came out and Blaine didn’t want to go back to public school. To his surprise, both of his parents took it well. They were more concerned for his safety than his sexuality. Together, they decided on Dalton. A private school with a zero tolerance policy for bullies. That was that.

He still had his doubts at Dalton. Was he really good enough to be a lead soloist let alone go onto Broadway someday? Could he make it out of Ohio? In those moments, Blaine still came back to his soulmate. Someone, no matter what came, Blaine would have by his side.

When he imagined his soulmate, Blaine could never truly figure out what he’d look like. All he saw was that outstretched hand. Usually, people could draw up a picture in their heads based on the music they heard.

For Blaine, the genre of music didn’t help. His soulmate was clearly someone with mixed taste.

Today’s selection was...a musical. Blaine wasn’t familiar with the characters Brad and Janet but he had looked it up at lunch. Some kind of cult classic people went to see in the weeks leading up to Halloween. It was October so it made sense for the soundtrack to be stuck in his soulmate’s head. Blaine wondered if he had gone to see it, wondered who he saw it with.

The Warblers thought he was crazy. Imagining that his soulmate was off with some other person. It was rare to date seriously before meeting a soulmate but Blaine always told them the same story of his parents. Both of them had been in very serious relationships before they met. Hell, his mother had been engaged. Neither of them thought they’d meet their soulmate, which was also fairly rare but had happened.

When they met, they didn’t drop everything to be together. The wedding was put on hold but his father hadn’t broken up with his girlfriend right away. His parents wanted to be together only if they agreed with the universe’s choice.

Blaine knew his dad had been wary of his mother’s music taste. Pam had been deep into her metal phrase in her early twenties. His dad, Robert, was not a fan. He loved classical music. Forever dooming Pam to hum music without lyrics meanwhile Robert was cursed with “nonsense yelling” as he called it. Lucky, both of their music tastes had shifted over the years to have more overlap. Though, Blaine and Cooper had been subjected to dinners with a mixtape of Def Leppard and Bach.

They got together in the end, which was the important part, but what if they hadn’t chosen each other? What if Blaine’s soulmate was deeply in love with someone else and he’d spend the rest of his days loveless and alone?

When he voiced these thoughts aloud, his friends usually told him what a downer he could be, which tended to shake those fears away. If his parents, different as they were, still fell in love it would happen to him too. It was just a matter of when.

…

The next day at lunch, Mercedes was fretting over her soulmate.

“What if he’s super young, Kurt?”

“What makes you think that?” He asked, stabbing his salad.

“He’s got The Backyardigans theme song in his head again,” she sighed. “He got to be like 7. I’m just not comfortable with that.”

“It’s an age gap for sure,” Kurt agreed, but he’s fairly sure Sam Evans was singing that song after PE today, “or maybe he just has younger siblings. Don’t let your only-childness cloud your judgment.”

She hummed in agreement and pushed her tater tots around.

It was sort of a hard way to figure out your soulmate unless they were obvious about what music they had playing in their heads.

Some people, like Mr. Schue, we’re pretty obvious. He had been singing in the auditorium when Ms. Pillsbury found him. It was a pretty clear-cut match. As far as Mercedes was concerned, Kurt is sure she’ll overhear Sam’s humming soon enough.

He doesn’t want to spoil anything for his best friend nor does he want to be wrong. Soulmate meetings only come once in a lifetime.

Well, the first soulmate meeting that is.

There are plenty of people, like his dad, who lose a soulmate too soon and are gifted another one later in life. Kurt was so happy when he introduced Burt and Carole at parent-teacher conferences. They had just been listening to the Wicked soundtrack in the car ride over and Carole Hudson did not strike Kurt as the type of person who knew “I’m Not That Girl” by heart.

“Are you nervous about auditions?” Mercedes asked. “The list goes up today after glee.”

“Not at all like,” he shrugged, “I think Quinn and I did well.”

“Oh no, Kurt, we crushed it,” Quinn said, sitting down with her lunch.

He smiled at her. Quinn went on to compliment Mercedes on her audition, having heard part of it from outside the audition. She would’ve been inside with Kurt to watch but Coach Sue wanted to meet with her head Cheerio about their upcoming competition. From what Quinn had told them via text, Sue was going all out at practice today.

“She doesn’t want us to be late,” Quinn said. “That list better be up right away.”

“We should change before glee,” Kurt suggested.

“Good idea.”

Once Quinn had sat down the rest of the New Directions filed in. With interlocking pinkies, Santana and Brittany wandered over taking the last two seats available.

“Cheerios practice is gonna be hell, hope you’re up for the challenge Hummel,” Santana said.

He shot her a short glare.

“Kurt always understands the assignment, Santana,” Quinn quipped back.

Brittany nodded in agreement smiling at Kurt from across the table. She gave him a small wave half hidden by her lunch tray. In return, Kurt waved back just as shyly.

They had an interesting friendship. Kurt had kissed Brittany before. He was sure it hadn’t phrased Brittany as it had him. After all, she had kissed almost every boy in school. Some kind of record, he thought.

They sort of dated for like a week when Kurt was trying to convince himself he was straight. When he firmly realized he was kidding no one, not even himself, they broke up. Since then, he and Brittany had remained close. They were both Cheerios and in the glee club, it made sense.

He was happy to have Brittany in his life, even if that meant Santana by extension came with her. Santana was fine outside of the public eye. If the Unholy Trinity incited Kurt to their sleepovers, Santana was a different person. She put up a front at McKinley, extremely similar to the one Kurt attempted when he dated Brittany.

Few are privy to why she did this, Quinn and Kurt knew and he was fairly certain Mercedes did as well. She was very perceptive that way. Brittany was Santana’s soulmate. It explained so much about their relationship. Always in sync, completing each other perfectly, a literal better half.

Honestly, it gave Kurt so much hope that everyone’s soulmate was like that. A missing puzzle piece.

He really hoped his soulmate listened to more than just Teenage Dream because the lyrics were slowly creeping into his everyday language.

Usually, Kurt found himself hyper-focused in glee club. He got an energy boost just from walking into the choir room. Like a light switch turning on. His focus wasn’t always on whatever lecture Mr. Schue was pursuing, sometimes he watched his fellow glee clubbers (catching himself up on drama just by sideways glances), or mentally mapping out his next performance.

Today, Kurt wasn’t able to do any of those things. With the soundtrack of Teenage Dream (again) in his head, all he was thinking about was the center of a bulletin board with the cast list for The Rocky Horror Show on it. How far down the list was Riff Raff? How many names came before his?

Someone was snapping in front of his face. Kurt shook himself from his daydream to find Mercedes.

“Boy, wake up!” She said, “cast list is about to go up.”

Either glee club had gotten shorter or Mr. Schue was putting it up early.

…

Blaine didn’t really understand why the Warblers were concerned. Doing an improv performance was not new to them. In fact, Blaine had done three already this school year and he was only a freshman.

The first one he did had been way back in September, he hadn’t even been an official Warbler yet. Warbler Tradition said: all potential freshman recruits were required to perform again after their auditions with the whole group. It was a solid way to see if they fit in well with the other established Warblers. Blaine fondly remembers vibing along with the older Warblers and fellow potentials to a medley of Pink songs. None of the freshmen had solos but it was still a fun time.

At the time it seemed like all of Dalton fit into the choir room and surrounding hallways but in reality it was the entire freshman class. Improv performances weren’t something any middle schooler had seen before but the upperclassmen of Dalton knew the Warblers had plenty of improvs to come for the rest of the school year. The first one was special. Just for the newbies.

Three days after that performance, Blaine had gotten word that he was to be a new Warbler and two months after that he was granted his first solo. Now, he was slowly becoming their go-to soloist for almost every performance for an audience. Blaine had become a vital part of all rehearsals for the most part. He was honored by their commitment to him honestly and he loved to sing however, a week and half of preparations was a tad excessive. Still, he walked his way to rehearsal positive that the council would have at least five points to discuss before they actually started singing.

He walked into the choir room shaking his shake fondly and smiling at the Warblers already present.

The council were always first to arrive. Together. Then it was a mixed bag of who followed. Usually Trent was there, punctual as always, and Blaine took the seat between Trent and Jeff.

The room was mostly full already.

Nick came in shortly after Blaine and sat across from him immediately asking if there had been a pop quiz in Stanton’s class earlier and was rather relieved to find out Jeremy was a filthy liar, who liked to start trouble. Before Jeremy could get on Blaine’s case about being overly sincere, the meeting began.

Wes banged his gavel and welcomed everyone before gesturing for David to read off last meeting’s notes. Once the talking portion of the meeting was over, they pushed the furniture aside to make room.

...

A week later Kurt was happy to have one musical under his belt but thankful the performance run had been short. If you thought the New Directions were dramatic during competition weeks, it was nothing compared to their musical rehearsals.

Now, Mr. Schue was having the brilliant idea to host a boys vs girls competition. Of course, Kurt hadn’t wanted to work with the boys. They were sure to exclude his musical talents and he doubted he could get them to agree to any of his costume suggestions.

This was hardly a challenge. It was bland and they had done it already.

Kurt was sitting in the back of the choir room pouting. Yes, pouting. Full on arms crossed, head down, and bottom lip puffed out. Until, Mr. Schue had an actual brilliant idea, Kurt’s suggestion of course, to spice things up.

The boys did not appreciate Kurt’s six hours of work putting two posters together. Even with the assignment to bring more feminine qualities into their performance, the boys ignored his input. So, when Puckerman suggested Kurt spy on the Warblers, he was thankful for a reason to leave. He packed up his projects and headed home to change.

When Mr. Schue found out who their competition was, Rachel and Kurt did some googling. He had seen the all-boys school uniform and was fairly sure he could replicate it with clothes he already had.

He pulled some looks from his closet. Once satisfied he looked up directions to Westerville.

Dalton was huge. It looked like a museum. How on earth was Kurt going to find their choir room? He hoped there were signs inside or a map.

As he walked down a spiral staircase much too pretty to be in a school, he decided to just ask for directions. He was going to get lost if he kept walking without help.

When the boy he stopped turned around, all Kurt could think was ‘I’d love to put my hands all over you.’ Which was a ridiculous thought to have because he didn’t know this boy and where had that even come from? Oh right, Teenage Dream was still playing in his head. Thanks, Katy.

If only his soulmate knew he was using this song to fantasize about running off into the sunset with another boy.

…

Blaine loved being in the spotlight. Wes would say it was because he didn’t get that kind of attention from his parents but that simply wasn’t true. Well, unless Cooper was around; he always pulled focus when it came to their parents. Older sibling privilege, he assumed.

But he was running late. He stayed behind in class to ask a question which turned into his teacher rambling. Didn’t he know the Warblers had a performance today in the senior commons and Blaine was their lead singer?

He was checking the time when someone stopped him on the stairs.

A beautiful boy. Unlike anyone Blaine had ever seen before. He almost missed his name because he was caught up in memorizing his face.

There was something said about being new, which Blaine doubted since he wasn’t in uniform, and Blaine mentioned a shortcut he knew of.

It wasn’t really a shortcut. More like the long way to the Senior Commons but less crowded. Everyone was making their way to the Warblers and Blaine wanted as much time alone with Kurt as he could get.

He wanted Kurt’s full attention. It was no wonder he instantly wanted to show off. Teenage Dream fit his vocals perfectly and Kurt was an excellent audience. In fact, Blaine was set on serenading him.

He had no way of knowing that exact song had been playing all day long in Kurt Hummel’s mind.

Afterward, Blaine lost himself in a group hug from the Warblers but Kurt’s beaming smile caught his eye. He pulled Wes and David aside, confirming his own suspicions that Kurt was spying on them first before convincing them to invite Kurt for coffee.

The four boys sat at a table. Kurt seemed very nervous now. Blaine wasn’t sure if it was because he had been caught or something else was going on. In the end, Blaine thought it best for just him and Kurt to have a conversation. Not at all because he wanted alone time with him.

This clearly wasn’t the time or place for romance.

Once they were alone the whole tale seemed to flow out of Kurt: the name calling, locker shoving, his biggest bully. Blaine could relate.

Sometimes he felt phantom pains in his right leg from Sadie Hawkins. At first, Kurt scoffed when Blaine began sympathizing. If he were Kurt, he might not believe himself.

Private schoolboy bullied? Blaine sure didn’t look like someone who lacked friends. It was fairly common knowledge that Dalton had a zero tolerance policy for harassment. So, he explained. As brief as he could about his own experience with public school bullies.

Kurt and he seemed to have more in common than a love for music.

He doesn't have any plans to see Kurt again though Blaine has plenty of ideas on how they could get together. Coffee at the Lima Bean. Old musicals were playing at the revival theater. Maybe another high school was putting on a play this weekend. All Blaine needed was a good enough message to ask Kurt out. He drafted plenty but none sent.

After school, Blaine knew Kurt might need an extra push. He was pretty sure classes at McKinley were done for the day.

He sent a single word. Less second-guessing that way.

Courage.

Then, he walked to the library to start writing an essay on Lord of the Flies for English.

However, he found himself unable to concentrate. Usually after a performance, Blaine had the song stuck in his head for at least a day or two afterward. In addition to humming in the weeks of rehearsals, of course. Instead, Blaine found himself thinking about Start Me Up by the Rolling Stones and oddly Livin’ On a Prayer. Both songs he thought better suited his father or Cooper’s tastes. It was a mashup of the two songs like his soulmate was hearing them simultaneously.

When he started thinking about his soulmate, there was a clear picture of someone. It didn’t take long for Blaine to bring up those blue eyes and the soft complexion of Kurt Hummel. Which was crazy thinking. He had no idea if Kurt was his soulmate.

Soulmates tended to be around the same age but just because Kurt was also in high school meant nothing. By that logic anyone at Dalton could be his soulmate too.

During his brief time with Kurt this week, Blaine heard no music from his mouth. In fact, Blaine had done all the singing. Even with half his brain saying he was nuts to think Kurt was his forever, Blaine couldn’t let the thought go.

…

Blaine’s text comes in in the midst of the girls’ performance. A wonderful mashup and excellent costumes. Tina had texted Kurt about the leather jacket idea early this week. He was very proud of how they managed to pull the looks together in such a short time. It was impressive.

Altogether, Kurt was feeling great. The boys had their rehearsal, apparently their performance was turning into an apology. Kurt wasn’t sure what they had done to Coach Beiste but apparently, she was quitting. He and Blaine were texting periodically now. No one knew it but Kurt was surely developing a huge crush on the Warbler boy.

Then, he confronted Karofsky. He didn’t want to feel the same regret Blaine did—no one messes with the Hummels.

It seemed like mere hours but in reality, it was days, Kurt was enrolled at Dalton and saying goodbye to the New Directions.

He was full on having a Vanessa leaving Troy moment here. Kurt Hummel has got to go his own way.

God was he nervous to start at a new school. In the middle of the school year too. Being the new kid was going to be hard but not as difficult as staying at McKinley would be.

When Kurt was greeted by Blaine’s smile outside the office on his first day, it made Kurt relax. At least he already had a friend here.

It isn’t until they’re walking down the hall together—Blaine insisted on escorting Kurt to his first class—that Kurt noticed Blaine was humming.

“Is that High School Musical?” Kurt asked.

“Oh, um, technically it’s the sequel.”

“What about us…” Blaine sang, “what about everything we’ve been through?”

“What about trust…you know I’ve never wanted to hurt you?”

Blaine chucked. “Cheesy but true. Such a good movie.”

“We should watch it sometime,” Kurt suggested.

Instantly, he wanted to take it back. He’s been told he can come on too strong. Especially around cute boys.

“I’d love too!” Blaine said. “I have it on DVD.”

Kurt doesn’t see Blaine again until their one shared class of the day right before lunch. He sits across the room from Blaine during history but next to him at the Warbler’s lunch table.

Most of the group has the same lunch so Kurt is introduced to them before his audition later this afternoon.

“Nervous?” Wes asked, “you shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, from what Blaine's told us you're a great singer,” Trent added.

“He’s barely heard me sing,” Kurt replied, poking Blaine’s arm.

He only sang one line of a song to the other boy today.

“Well…” Blaine rubs his neck abashedly. “I might’ve watched some New Directions videos on YouTube.”

“Oh, I forgot Rachel uploaded those.” Kurt tunes to the other Warblers then, “I hope I don’t disappoint.”

After lunch, Blaine walks Kurt to class again. “Between you and me, you’re a shoo-in.”

“Really?” The Warblers were such an esteemed group. Not at all like the disorganized New Directions. They had also been a glee club for far longer.

“Really.”

***

Blaine has had High School Musical songs in his head all day. Whoever his soulmate is, at least he’s got good taste in Disney Channel original movies. Then as the Warblers were preparing for Kurt’s audition, the song switched. An Evita song.

His soulmate sure did love musicals. Blaine was rather happy about that. He could already picture them sitting on the couch cuddled under a fluffy blanket with any number of classic musicals laid out before them. Arguing over if it was too soon to rewatch Moulin Rouge and whose turn it was to make popcorn.

They’d be in a big city apartment. Somewhere where no one cared if they were gay. All anyone wanted to know was how they discovered they were soulmates. Their origin story.

From that point, the daydream grew fuzzy. Blaine couldn’t come up with that meet-cute story. It hadn’t happened yet and nothing his brain could come up with would ever match up with his future reality.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the choir room.

The room was buzzing with excitement. It wasn’t every day the Warblers auditioned someone mid-semester. Of course, Kurt had special circumstances but the group was notorious for never breaking tradition.

Blaine tried to focus but it was difficult without Kurt at his side. Lately, he had been distracted whenever Kurt wasn’t around. All Blaine could hear, despite the loud room, was the song in his head.

I had to let it happen

I had to change

Then, Kurt walked in and music started to play. For a split second, Blaine thought he was imagining the words from “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” coming from Kurt’s lips. Surely he hadn’t chosen the same song as Blaine’s soulmate had in their head. He knew it couldn’t be his imagination when Trent leaned over and whispered to Blaine how much he loved this song.

Like lightning striking a tree, Blaine had a realization. Kurt Hummel was his soulmate.

Oh god, what was he going to do?

His skin was burning as if it was burned away like bark. He drooped in his seat desperate for water to put himself out with. To put a stop to the tingling sensation bubbling up under his skin.

All he wanted to do was reach out and touch Kurt. Some part of his brain was able to override that thought. He couldn’t ruin this audition for him. There was plenty of time to spend with Kurt after this, Blaine had all the time in the world to talk with his soulmate.

Soulmate.

Never did he think he would find his soulmate this soon. Gosh, they were only teenagers. They had so much life to live together. This was rare, special, to find your soulmate so quickly in life. Blaine would cherish it, he’d be thankful for this gift for rest of his days.

But how in the hell was he going to tell Kurt? It had to be romantic. Blaine always thought it would be when he finally came face to face with his soulmate, his one true love. There was so much work to be done and so little time to do it. Now that Blaine knew, he didn’t want to spend another day without Kurt knowing too.

He used to dream about running dramatically in slow motion towards each other and embracing just as it started to rain, which of course led to a fabulous first kiss in the sudden storm. But Blaine knew how unlikely that would be.

He’d just have to build a new fantasy, which he thought would be easy to do if Kurt was his so-called Prince Charming. Whatever happened was going to outweigh everything his imagination had come up with thus far.

First and foremost, he’d had to sit through a discussion of this audition, which he was barely able to pay attention to. All he wanted to do was walk up to Kurt, cup his face, and kiss him. After Kurt was finished, the council dismissed him. Blaine knew he’d find Kurt just outside the choir room because they had plans afterward but now he had no idea how he was going to sit through coffee with Kurt and not tell him.

“He’s very good,” Trent said, nudging Blaine.

He nodded in agreement. It seems most of the group concurred, Kurt was a good fit for them.

Kurt Hummel was the perfect fit for Blaine too. Even if he didn’t know it yet.

***

Kurt didn’t consider himself to be a good reader of social cues especially when his own emotions were involved. See, Finn Hudson and Sam Evans. Crushes on straight boys never ended well. With Blaine, he swore things would be different.

They were friends, classmates, and hopefully, soon they’d be fellow Warblers. Kurt was not going to mess this up. Even if Blaine was really cute and friendly and super kind and understanding. There was so much to love about Blaine, Kurt found it hard to find something he didn’t like.

He had found focusing on his dislikes of a person kept his feelings at bay. Like how messy Finn could be really shut down any romance fantasy Kurt had drawn up. Except, Blaine didn’t dye his hair like Sam, he was completely organized (Kurt had seen his dorm room; spotless), he was modest and genuine.

It made sense that everyone at Dalton wanted some of his attention. Blaine embodied Kurt’s idea of a gentleman and then some.

After his audition, Kurt sat outside the choir room waiting for his results. The council would discuss with the full group, release them, and regroup tomorrow with a vote. Kurt was waiting for Blaine to be dismissed because Blaine had promised to buy him a cup of coffee.

Some of the Warblers who were leaving had some pretty nice things to say about Kurt’s performance. Just general praise which soothes some of his initial nerves. Mostly, he just wanted Blaine to walk out with a big smile on his face. That boy couldn’t keep a secret. Kurt would know if he was in or not just by looking at his face.

Kurt was joined on his bench by a boy who introduced himself as Duncan.

“I was super nervous after my audition. I just got in at the beginning of this year so I know what you’re going through.”

Kurt felt his shoulders drop in relief. As much as Blaine tried to assure him the audition would be perfect, Kurt felt like he couldn’t relate much as the star of the glee club. Back at McKinley, Kurt rarely had center stage. Here, Blaine always had everyone’s attention.

“That’s actually great to hear,” Kurt said, with a slight chuckle.

“Seriously, Kurt, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m a little concerned they’ll kick me out just to have your voice,” Duncan teased.

They keep talking about what it’s like to be a new Warbler since Duncan is positive Kurt will be getting good news shortly. He offers up some pointers to get on the council’s good side.

“I loved your song choice by the way, so weird because Evita had been in my head all day.”

It feels like someone’s dropped an ice cube down his back. He sits up quickly.

Oh, Kurt thought, is this it?

“You did?” He must’ve heard wrong. There’s just no way.

“Yeah, I love that musical,” Duncan confirmed.

Could it be this easy? He wondered.

“We should hang out again soon,” Duncan told him, “I’d love to get to know you. Newbie Warblers gotta stick together.”

Kurt gives Duncan his number before the other boy wanders off. Before Kurt can get too deep into any fantasies of his soulmate, wondering if that soulmate has just left him or not, Blaine comes out from the choir room.

“Hey you,” Blaine greeted with a big smile.

“Are you allowed to give me any inclination?”

He shook his head but was still smiling wide which made Kurt feel like good news was in his near future like Duncan had said. Kurt was telling Blaine how long he had practiced the song over the weekend with Rachel and Duncan reassurances when Blaine blurted, “Duncan Samuels?”

“Yeah, we just met.”

Should he tell Blaine about them being soulmates or wait until he was sure?

But Blaine just nodded. Something was clearly bothering his friend. For now, Kurt was going to let it go because he was sure Blaine would come to him if he wanted to talk. He didn’t want to force it out of Blaine.

Kurt couldn’t even get Finn to talk to him during their warm milk chats at night. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull the information out of Blaine if he tried.

“Anyway,” Kurt said, continuing his previous line of thought, “Rachel has this whole stage setup in her dads’ basement.”

“I don’t find that hard to believe based on everything you’ve told me about her.”

After that comment, their coffee date is back on track, Kurt doesn’t bring up his potential soulmate meeting.

***

Duncan Samuels was his lifelong nemesis. As far as Blaine was considered his life began when he figured out Kurt was his soulmate and if Duncan was going to interfere with that they were now enemies. Since their coffee date yesterday, Blaine hasn’t heard a word about Duncan but he also had yet to see Kurt today. They only had one class together after lunch, which Blaine was on his way to now.

Kurt saved him a seat and delivered the news.

“Duncan and I are going for coffee today.”

Those words were devastating.

In normal circumstances, Blaine would’ve asked Kurt why he wasn’t going to rehearsal but of course Kurt wasn’t a Warbler…yet. Blaine knew the Warblers were going to announce Kurt’s membership at the end of day, which meant this was the last rehearsal Kurt wouldn’t attend.

So instead of a calmly said, normal statement, Blaine spent the next minute freaking out.

Duncan was the worst! He was going to steal Kurt away from him before Blaine ever got the chance. Well okay, the rational side of him thought, Kurt isn’t being stolen he’s going willingly.

“That’s nice,” he finally said.

There was no way for Blaine to stop Kurt and honestly no reason to try since Duncan posed no threat to Kurt. He didn’t need a protector. Blaine knew they were soulmates and he’d find a way to tell Kurt later on. At the end of it all, Kurt was his soulmate. He just knew it.

“Are you free when I get out of rehearsal?”

“For you?” Kurt asked, “of course, I’ll probably still be in the cafe.”

“I’ll come find you,” Blaine told him.

Still, all throughout Warbler rehearsal, Blaine’s attention was elsewhere. He needed to get out of here and meet up with Kurt. Wes knew it too because he pulled him aside at one point while David ushered the guys into a new arrangement.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, “I need you focused for competition.”

“I will be,” he vowed.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Blaine looked back at the other boys but they were already harmonizing.

“It’s Kurt.”

Wes smiled. “Don’t worry about him. He’s in, I can’t believe we have a countertenor on our team now. We’re going to wipe the floor at regionals.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Wesley. McKinley already knows what a talent Kurt is, he won’t be a surprise to them,” Blaine reminded him.

“Ah, but they didn’t utilize his talent,” Wes said, “it’ll shock them to see Kurt in the spotlight.”

Wes patted Blaine’s back and guided him back to the group to finish up rehearsal.

Blaine couldn’t help but check his phone again before he tuned back into rehearsal. He knew Kurt was getting coffee and that’s why he wasn’t answering his phone.

One of the best things about Kurt was when you were with him everything else was put aside. Blaine was sure if things got really serious, Kurt would shut his phone off entirely to prove a point. Right now, it was annoying as hell. Blaine needed to see a reassuring text that Kurt wasn’t running off into the sunset with Duncan Samuels.

What if his phone was turned off because the two of them were standing at the altar? Everyone turns their phones off in church.

He really really needed to talk to him. Blaine didn’t want to be the type of soulmate that holds onto that information too long. It’s like he’s lying to himself not being with Kurt.

Once rehearsal was finally over, Blaine rushed over to the on-campus cafe where he knew Kurt would be. He had to be there.

When Blaine pushed his way through the door, he saw Kurt was sitting alone nursing what looked to be a cup of tea. When Blaine approached him he could tell it was Chamomile.

“Can I sit?”

Kurt nodded but didn’t say a word as Blaine hung his bag across the back of the chair and removed his blazer.

He expected a question about the Warblers, perhaps an inquiry about his status to become one but nothing came. Kurt wasn’t even drinking his tea.

“What’s wrong? Did Duncan say something to upset you?”

“I’m fine, Blaine,” Kurt said, “Duncan didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me as usual.”

Blaine didn’t understand.

“Am I that unlovable?”

“What?”

Kurt was the most kind, sincere person he knew and Blaine had only met him a few weeks ago. He was most certainly lovable considering Blaine fell for him in just under 3 weeks

“I can’t really blame him,” Kurt continued, “it’s not his fault we aren’t soulmates.”

“You thought he was your soulmate?”

Maybe telling Kurt wouldn’t be too difficult after all.

“It’s just he made this comment yesterday that made me think…but of course I got too ahead of myself again and really I should know by now,” Kurt mumbled the last bit, “nothing ever goes to plan.”

“You can say that again.”

This cafe wasn’t a romantic candlelit dinner. He didn’t have rose petals to scatter around. There was no champagne to toast. But he had the most important thing.

Blaine reached across the table to grab Kurt’s hand. “Think of a song.”

“Why?”

“Just do it,” Blaine said.

Kurt’s face was scrunched up in a “I’m confused but I’ll trust you” kind of way.

As soon as the song hit him, Blaine opened his mouth to sing, “this could be the start of something new…it feels so right to be here with you.”

“How did you—?”

Blaine smiled at him. “Pick another song.”

“Your cares and troubles are gone. They'll be no more from now on.”

His mouth opens slightly.

“Your turn,” Blaine said, “ I want you to sing what comes to mind.”

Wasn’t the best way to prove they were soulmates to test each other?

Blaine wanted Kurt to have his own moment of realization even if he engineered it. He didn’t want their “how-did-you-know” story to be him informing Kurt about their connection. Instead, he wanted to tell people about listening to Kurt’s Warbler audition and thinking how odd it was to know the song he was going to sing before it began. Kurt’s story would start with a laugh because he imagined someone other than Blaine as his soulmate the very same day.

And wasn’t that just so silly of him?

Rather than have Kurt just sing to him, Blaine harmonized with him. This was the proof. He’d sing everything Kurt could come up with and vice versa.

“But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do? I'm hopelessly devoted to you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said. “We’re….”

He nodded.

Before Blaine even realized it, Kurt was out of his seat leaning towards him, they’re kissing. Kurt’s fingers are curved around his chin and his other hand is tickling the curls at the back of his neck. The tiny wisps of hair that always escape the gel by the late afternoon.

Blaine would happily keep his curls loose if it meant Kurt would keep his hands in his hair always. Especially, if it meant they’d never stop kissing.

Eventually, Kurt has to pull away. They’re still close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“Soulmates,” Blaine whispered.

It had been quiet while they kissed like everything else in the world just stopped. All the sounds of Dalton came rushing back all at once. The students in the halls, coffee orders being called out, and the shuffling of chairs as people came and went.

“When did you know?” Kurt asked, sitting down again.

Blaine pulled his seat around so they were closer and Kurt immediately reached for his hand.

***

3 months later.

Blaine hadn’t been upset to lose to McKinley at Regionals. How could he have been when he got to sing with his soulmate in front of a crowd? Their duet was so in sync and the crowd could tell. He doesn’t think he ever received such a loud applause.

Blaine had wanted to just be in that moment forever—staring into Kurt’s eyes hearing the words in his head just before they were said aloud, gripping his hand before pushing him into the spotlight to soak up the audience’s love.

No, Blaine was happy about Regionals. The Warblers had worked hard on the set; their second place trophy sat on the right corner of the council’s table at meetings now. What Blaine was concerned about was Kurt’s leaving.

His dorm room was empty now, the last suitcase zipped up. Blaine was sitting on his boyfriend’s mattress taking in the last moment that Kurt was a Dalton student.

“I’ll miss you too, you know, a lot,” Kurt said from the doorway.

“I know,” Blaine replied, “it’s just sad.”

Kurt took a seat next to him on the bed.

“I’ll sing to you.”

Blaine smiled. “Promise?”

“Everyday.” Kurt kissed his cheek.

They were going to be okay.

#klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #soulmate au #klaine #my fics

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