#i am probably not gonna be able to doodle something for each day but i ended up doing this instead of the xiv comic i was trying to finish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

safyresky · 7 months

Note

Hello, I need to drop this in here before Season two of TSCS drop kicks me in a few days.

But I've had Fusion Au on the mind. In the brain. And I just frankly wanna know more about it. Whatever other information you can give I will GLADLY take. (Maybe even drop the fusion height chart 👉👈 if it is to be found)

Steven Universe has permanently altered my brain chemistry and I just wanna hear you talk about this silly little au that has been fluttering around lately.

F E L T. I have been hitting the ground RUNNING for Crystal Springs just to give myself decent AC for when the series picks up again (not sure if I'm gonna post the same day of the new episodes or the day AFTER, but New CS will be there to comfort me and maybe others in my our time of need).

I am not ready. I NEVER will be. I hope and pray that the Council isn't butchered, bc if we've got three confirmed Legendary Figures, I can't see us NOT getting the others. Or, maybe it WILL just be Sandy and Cupid and EB 2.0!! But idk. Idk man. Idk. I really want the snowball that gets thrown in Scott's face in the trailer to be courtesy of Jack. I know it won't be. But I fucking WISH and HOPE and AH.

OFF TOPIC!

I have a height chart floating around somewhere, but it is a stick figure doodle, so I will ATTEMPT to give you a proper?? Chart???

I think I said that Berline is about the size of two Elles stacked on top of each other (sitting on her shoulders) so I kinda eyeballed it based on that??? (me retconning so much about heights knowing that I had Berline pick Elle up and seat her in their palm lmao) So here we go, the main line up:

I eyeballed the SHIT out of this??? I may boost them all a whole ass foot lmao but Richard was liek "DANI. SEVEN FEET IS TALL!" and I was like I GUESS.

Also, as an aside??? The height chart site has a 3D one?? That actually disturbed me??? Thank GOD I was able to switch back! If I find the shitty lil stick figure height doodle I will edit to add it. Or reblog to add it, lol. ANYWAY.

Some info, you request? Okay! Let me marinate it in my head and see what I can do throughout the day:

If the entire frost fam fused they'd be called Frost and they'd be a DELIGHT. They don't talk much except for to be polite and they will throw melty molten rock at you at the drop of a hat, so it's a GOOD THING that Jackie doesn't exists when Frost does! Because they WOULD drop their hat on purpose just to see a fire show

Frost probably freezes in place a lot while thinking since there's 6 whole ass sprites in there having a discussion, which is a very funny mental image--just this blob of ice and fire BUFFERING and then suddenly some asshole gets pompeii'd lol

They're very sweet! Very polite. Always say please and thank you!

When Fino and Fiera fuse, Fire is just the opposite of the THERE'S TWO meme. There's ONE. And they are making it YOUR PROBLEM (they also do unfuse in my head very similarly to the THERE'S TWO meme)

Fire is also the most humanoid looking fusion, for sure!

Diteline really likes flower crowns. She will make you a flower crown or a lil grass bracelet if she's left alone with no threats and a bunch of nature. She's a big old sweetie, an absolute delight

Diteline kids, meanwhile, are a pain when they learn about fusion, and incredibly hard to keep track of once they master it. Those three lil buggers will bounce from fusion to fusion, going from helping to causing trouble to wreaking havoc to trying to fix something as simple as "oh shit, mom and mater will be home soon and we DIDN'T CLEAN THE KITCHEN LIKE THEY ASKED"

Inter season squabbles take on a whole new meaning when it's "shoulder season" time, as 9/10 times it's because the two seasons have fused and are still doing their jobs 😂😂

Of all the Frosts, Fino is the least likely to fuse! It's fun but not like, a big deal, y'know? Orc Friend (who's name is, in fact, Ken, and then I saw Barbie and. Well. But I can't not see him with any other name! It's short for Kenothy) was tres relieved about this, had a whole crisis about if they'd have to fuse at all and of course, overthought it in leaps and bounds 🫠🫠🫠

Fiera and Normal Man (His name is Norm bc I am a SUCKER for a PUNNY NAME) probably would equate to the Stevonnie plotline lol. Like, they'd fuse and Fiera would be like "I DIDN'T KNOW ORDIBEINGS COULD DO THAT! WOW!" And they'd be so excited and have a regular time, bc the normal and absolutely unhinged wild crazy balance out :)

I think their fusion is named Norma lol

Blaise and Pyros never fused, ever. They were not allowed to bc it "wasn't proper" for royalty to resort to something like that

(King and Queen Frost had a very hands-off approach with...messier conflicts. There's a reason they managed to scrape by when The Call happened)

If a redemption arc ever happened for Pyros, it A) wouldn't be one like Jack's, it'd be a more "oh so this was a fucked up upbringing and I need to stop blaming others and confront myself and maybe fix my shit or maybe get worse, who's to say" kind of thing, and B) there'd deffs be a fusion related plotline in Fusion AU, potentially involving murder of parents and/or falling into a volcano.

I think, somehow, of ALL the fusions, Elline (Elle and Jacqueline) are the most chillest one. She is SO chill. She probably always has sunglasses on or on her person. She's got great advice. She'll go with you for ice cream any day! She has such good vibes it's unREAL.

I want to/am in the process of giving the inter-season fusions names. So far we've got:

Flora: Spring/Summer

Fauna: Spring/Autumn

Mud: Spring/Winter.

She's very insistent on this name presently, but I think a wintry plant would be cuter, like Winterberry or Poinsettia or Snowdrop (my personal fave tbh) but NO. She's like "I make Mud therefor I am mud."

Everyone calls her Snowdrop and she's like "No, just Mud for short is fine" It's like. None of those letters are even IN "Snowdrop" Mud, the FUCK? CAN'T YOU CHARACTERS BE NORMAL. TO A POINT.

Evergreen: Autumn/Winter

Sunflower: Summer/Autumn

(I was torn between something plain and obvious like "Harvest", or a silly crop related pun like "Melony", then I remembered that in SDV Sunflowers grow in Summer and Autumn, you know, like they do in IRL and went OH THAT'S PERFECT!)

Summer/Winter fusion is definitely the poster fusion for vacations, lmao. Probably I'll think of something like THAT for their name. Maybe Snowbird? Bc that's what they call people who fly south for the winter on vacations? Lol

(smacks head of Season sisters) These ladies can fit SO MUCH PUNS in 'em

Blaise and Winter I don't think really fuse with the kiddos, not until later years. I know for sure Winter and Jacqueline on occasion have! She's called Flurry and has the MOST energy ever always and is a sentient storm's WORST NIGHTMARE

Blinter the fusion. Can deffs. Pull other fusions apart. They can just pick up a fusion and be like "nope" and separate their asses. They do not abuse this power; it is just something they can do and it came in handy a LOT during the War of Succession

Which is probably actually when they first appeared! Trauma bonding 🥰🥰

So that's what I managed in a day! The heights are...average, I'd say. Not gospel, but like, the differences between the fusions? Solid. I eyeballed it 100%. I'm like MAKE EM BIG but then I'm like I WANT THEM TO BE SNEAKY AND BLEND IN WHEN THEY CAN AS JUST VERY TALL PEOPLE HUEHUEHUE. For some of them. SO YEAH. I HOPE THIS SATISFIES THE LIL ITCH? THE LIL TICKLE? THE LIL FUSION BUG??

I gotta like. Tidy Fusion AU up now that I've got Crystal Springs tidied up, too! It'll make it easier to write the Jackie Frost instalment, lol.

#dani answers #ask box shenanigans #alpharra #fusion au #anyway i hope you enjoy this!!!!#maybe i will. fusion au for you all next year. idk!!!!#we'll see!#OH ALSO i think jackie may get a glow up!#you know how harvey guillen wore that AMAZING suit with the like. skirt back????#that but for jackie. that's rent free in my HEAD bb #okok this has been in drafts way too long today lol. enjoy!

3 notes · View notes

hyuneluvbot · 2 years

Text

y/n's habits skz adore

pairing: stray kids x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of food [minho], i haven't found any other warnings, but if you feel like something needs to be mentioned here please don't hesitate to tell me about it!

word count: 1414

💌 author's note: i am on a roll these days hahaha. on a serious note though, i'm enjoying being able to write as much as i am. i think i'm going to upload a request i'm currently working on next! i hope you enjoy reading as always <3

take care of yourselves my darlings <3

💌 you can check out my other works here! enjoy your stay!

chan adores everything you do, but if he had to choose a habit of yours he loves the most? definitely when you play with his hands. it sounds so simple, but to this day, its one of those things that send his heart flying out of his chest, doing somersaults. he's noticed its something you do out of habit, like when you're watching a movie and his hand's on your thigh, you'll slowly start to toy with his fingers and draw little patterns on his palm. or how when you're both sleeping and somehow end up at a distance from each other, you're always holding onto his hand. sometimes when you're both working, you take a hold of his hand and make doodles on it, writing little 'y/n loves chrispy' notes. he probably even has a separate folder in his gallery solely dedicated to the little doodles you make on his hands, he loves them all so much.

minho loves it so much when you offer to cook with him or cook for him. grabbing things off the shelves and handing him utensils whenever you're cooking together. always listening with all your undivided attention, making him feel very special and heard. and when you cook for him? he could marry you right then and there. sure, he loves cooking, especially for people around him, but sometimes he just wishes to be on the receiving end of it too. so when you showed up to practice one day with his favourite meal, he swore he fell in love with you all over again. you were saying something along the lines of 'i'm sorry if it doesn't taste the best, but i just wanted to do this for you so i hope you still like it,' but how was he gonna tell you nothing mattered to him in slightest other than the fact that you went out of your way to do this for him? its become a weekly thing since that very day.

changbin loves when you smile in your sleep at his touch. he usually always tries to get back home to you as early as possible, but there are of course somedays his schedule is too busy and eats up all his time. on days like those, when he comes home, slips into bed next to you; the first touch of his against your skin always has you instantly snuggling into his chest, and he feels your lips stretch out into a beautiful smile against him. it has warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach every time, seeing you recognise him by his touch. some nights if he's lucky, he feels you whisper his name, pulling at his heartstrings. now whenever he sees you smile at him, his mind flashes back to how you smile at him in your sleep, and he's blushing, wanting to coo at you and pinch your cheeks. but he refuses to let you know of this, he only wants to keep it to himself; he falls in love a little more every time it happens.

hyunjin loves it when you literally do anything to his hair in anyway, shape or form. you've always been very vocal about your love for his hair, constantly running your fingers through it whenever possible, recommending him new colours and styles, even tying it up for him and braiding some strands whenever you could. one particular little habit he gushes over every time though, is when your hand subconsciously travels upto his hair, pushing it behind his ears for him. every single time you do it he falls in love a little more, and you do it often. when he's painting and he's got paint all over his hands, you watch him struggle for a moment before he turns to you for help with his lower lip jutted out and you make quick work of fixing his hair; when you wake him up in the morning you stroke his hair and get it out of his face to plant kisses; or when he pulls away from kissing you and your hand rests on that one spot where his jaw meets his neck after you push his hair back.

jisung loves it when you sleep talk. he first noticed it when you came over to his studio and ended up falling asleep while waiting for him to finish up. you'd started mumbling incoherent words at first, so he'd turned towards you, asking if you were okay. the moment you'd heard his voice you'd called out his name and told him you loved him. even to this day, he smiles thinking about the way you'd said his name that evening. you used to talk pretty often before, but these days you just do it once in a while. and if jisung's there to witness it happening? he will indulge in a conversation with you every time, almost forgetting that you're actually sleeping. every time you hear his voice, your reaction sends his heart whirring. you smile at his voice whenever he speaks, and tell him you love him. this habit of yours is something he swears he'll only keep to himself, never even once mentioning it to you, and he really doesn't plan to either.

felix loves it when you plant kisses on his face. more specifically his freckles. when the two of you had began dating, he'd noticed your fascination with the little dots, when you'd touch his cheeks and gaze at him with adoration. he still remembers the day you'd pointed at each of them, smiling and giggling as you named them after stars and constellations. 'lix there's stars on your face, so pretty,' he remembers you saying one night. there's never a day where you forget to mention just how beautiful you find his bare face. every single night, before bed, you kiss your favourite 'stars' goodnight, then turn to him and whisper a 'goodnight lix, i love you and all your stars,' with a kiss to his lips and he feels like he's over the moon. you've been doing this same thing for almost as long as he's been dating you, and every night he lays there, next to you, a swarm of butterflies in his stomach and nothing but love for you in his heart.

seungmin is so fond of the little notes you leave for him all around the house. usually you wake up & get out of the house earlier than he does, so it gives practically no time for you both to communicate, the only time being at night, after work. it sucks not being able to wake up with you, but your 'morning seungmo, i hope you have an amazing day, remember i love you the most :3' always makes up for it. sometimes you make him an iced coffee, & leave it in the fridge with a note. you slip in notes into his work bag, and he especially loves the notes you hand him when you visit him at work. he's probably never going to tell you this, but he has a box under the bed, where he keeps all the notes you give him. reading those notes makes him feel so special, and now they're such a crucial part of his day, he feels really empty without them if they're not there. he even writes about them in his journal, at the end of each entry he writes about your notes for the day. he adores it so much, he probably cannot describe it in words.

jeongin loves it when you help him choose an outfit every morning. clothing is something he puts effort into, & his fashion sense is something he takes pride in, so for you to join in on this activity he adores? skimming through his closet to find clothing articles you like, asking him to try on an outfit you'd been planning in your head since the previous night, sometimes purposely picking out sleeveless shirts just so you get to ogle at his arms, also sneaking clothes from his side of the closet to yours, then clapping your hands and cheering for him after you guys manage to find 'the outfit', proceeding to help him style his hair, choose accessories and pick out shoes; he really doesn't think he could possibly love you anymore than he does in those little moments when you're so engaged in an activity he loves, for him, just to make him happy; in return it also makes him the happiest.

💌reminder: requests are open! feel free to lmk if you wish for me to write anything! have a good day/ night! <3

1K notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

As Soon As I Can

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from @alienstardust: Umm All the angst in those childhood prompts. I’m a fan! Yes! <3 Maybe something with Nestor? 💫 thank you

I went with this prompt from This Post: When Person A and Person B were kids, Person A broke their arm and had to wear a cast for a while. To make them feel better, Person B decorated it by drawing a bunch of doodles and quotes all over it. When Person A finally got the cast off, they asked the doctor if they could keep it. Years later, Person A takes the cast to a tattoo artist and gets all of Person B’s doodles and quotes tattooed onto their arm so they can wear them forever.

Warnings: language, angst, hospitals

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I looooooved writing this. Writing has been tough for me lately but this just felt really right. This is my first fic where I’ve done a lot of time skips within the story so hopefully it flows alright. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

General Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck

You and Nestor were sitting in your back yard, sprawled out together under the one tree that managed to survive so many years in the California heat. You were laying on your back, cast-bound arm lying rigidly out to the side. You were staring up through the leaves as you listened to Nestor talk.

“At least they let you pick the color,” he was next to you, laying on his stomach as he dug through his backpack.

You laugh was heavy with sarcasm, “Yea, if I’m not gonna be able to move my arm for the next eight weeks it’s the least they could fucking do.”

“You sound bitter.”

You looked over at him, “I am bitter.”

He chuckled and shook his head, he was about to come back with a witty remark when he got distracted by finding whatever he had been looking for. He smiled as he pulled it out, “Aha!” he held up his pack of Sharpies.

“What’re those for?” you nodded towards the markers.

“For your cast.”

“You’re gonna decorate my cast?” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he was carefully choosing a few different markers to start with, “Maybe it’ll make you feel better about totally eating it falling off your skateboard the other day.”

You laughed as you reached over and shoved him with your good arm, “Shut up—like you haven’t fallen a million times.”

“No casts for me, though,” there was a cocky smirk on his face.

“No casts for me, though,” you mocked as you tried not to laugh.

You watched him in semi-silence as he started at your wrist and slowly but surely made his way up your cast, covering it with all sorts of doodles and quotes. Sometimes you forgot how artistic he could be. You went back and forth between watching him and just resting your head back and closing your eyes. Neither of you kept track of the time as he stayed sprawled on his stomach beside you. the two of you probably would’ve stayed out until dark if your mom hadn’t stuck her head out and said that Nestor’s brother was there to pick him up and bring him home. Nestor threw all of his things back into his bag before helping you up.

Once he was gone, you took some time to actually look at the cast. You smiled at the amount of work he put into something that you were only going to have for a couple months. Your fingers traced lightly over the many marker lines that now covered your cast. Your mother looked over your shoulder at the artwork, a smile passing over her lips for a moment.

“Did Nestor do that?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of your arm, “Yea.”

She nodded, “That was sweet of him.”

You scoffed trying to suppress the smile on your face, “I guess.”

The next eight weeks passed by. And, despite the fact that having your arm in a cast was incredibly inconvenient, it could have been a lot worse. Nestor walked with you to all of your classes, offering to carry your backpack despite the fact that you told him that your busted arm had nothing to do with your ability to carry a bag. Whenever the two of you were together and things were quiet, he would keep adding onto the tiny mural that was your cast. Sometimes you wondered how much more he could fit on it, but he always found a way. For as much as you wanted it off, you were going to miss the bonding time for the two of you. And you were going to miss the artwork, too.

“So,” the doctor smiled and nodded at you, “you are all good to go. We can get the cast off and you’ll be as good as new.”

“Yea?” the thought of having your arm back made you feel giddy.

“Absolutely.”

You felt like a new person once your arm was free of the confines of the cast. Letting out a sigh of relief, you rotated your wrist a few times and carefully ran your fingers over the freshly-exposed skin, glad to feel like you were back in control of your own body.

“I can get rid of this,” your doctor held up the cast he’d just finished so carefully removing, “Unless you want to keep it as a momento.”

“Um, actually,” you felt your face heating up as you avoided eye contact with your mother, “Could I keep it?”

The doctor nodded, smiling as he handed it over to you, “It’s quite the work of art at this point—I understand wanting to hold onto it.”

On the drive home, you felt your mother glancing over at you every couple of minutes, a knowing smile on her face. You tried to ignore it but eventually you broke.

“What?” you were careful of your tone.

She laughed quietly and shook her head, “Nothing. Just, I think it’s nice that you’re keeping it, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks again, but that only made it worse.

You never told Nestor that you kept the cast. You never really knew exactly why you didn’t tell him—the two of you told each other pretty much everything else. The two of you spent almost all of your free time together, and as soon as he found out that your cast had been removed he was dragging you right back out to do things that could potentially break your arm all over again, and you let him. He never asked about the cast, so you never brought it up. There were moments, as the two of you got a little older, where you wanted to mention it to him in passing that it was something that you kept, but the moment never seemed quite right. Each time you went to clean out your room and your closet you would come across it, and each time you were faced with the decision of whether or not you wanted to keep it, and you always did. You always told yourself that you didn’t know why, but you knew.

“Alright,” you were trying not to let yourself get too emotional as you sat cross-legged on his bed watching him pack “You can’t do anything stupid while I’m not around to yell at you for it, alright?”

He chuckled as he shoved another shirt into his bag, “Trust me, there will be plenty of other people around to yell at me. That’s the whole point of—”

“But they can’t do it as well as I can.”

He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. He knew how upset you were despite the fact that you were still being supportive. Him going into the Navy was something that you hadn’t seen coming. The thought of him being gone for so long after the two of you had spent so much of your lives practically joined at the hip was a bit jarring. You knew the ache in your chest was caused by more feelings than you were ready to admit to him, or to yourself.

“It’s not like you’ll never hear from me.”

You huffed, “Snail mail is not the same as bothering you in person,” you flopped backwards on the bed, “And for the record I still think it’s bullshit that you don’t get to call me.”

He laughed as he stood up and sat on the bed, looking down at you, “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be in basic for less time than you had that stupid cast on your arm.”

“Yea but it’s not like you’re coming right home after that.”

He nodded, his expression sobering a little as he continued to look at you, “I know.”

“You’ll come home to visit me as soon as you can?”

He chuckled, nodding, “As soon as I can.”

For a moment you thought about spilling your guts—telling him everything that you were thinking and feeling. There was something about the way that he was looking at you that made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. But the confidence that shot through you went away as quickly as it appeared, and the moment passed as he continued to pack his things.

True to his word, you got letters in the mail. You saved each one, kept them stashed away in your closet alongside the cast that was still there collecting dust even after years of being shuffled around. You sent more letters than you received, not that you really minded. You figured that he needed them more than you did.

However as the months ticked by, you waited for him to say he was coming home, but he never did. It was one thing right into the next and the more time that passed by, the more you wondered if this was how he slipped away from you, even though he swore that that wouldn’t happen. He reached out when he could, when he had the time. And you knew that he had other priorities, and realistically you did too. But there was still part of you that felt like things were changing too much.

Your heart sped up inside your chest when you got a late-night phone call from him. You scrambled to answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey,” he sounded exhausted.

“Hey,” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you spoke to him, “H-how are you?”

“I’m alright,” he sighed, “It’s good to hear your voice.”

You smiled despite the weight settling in your chest, “It’s good to hear yours too. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

You didn’t want to push and pry, but you couldn’t help asking, “When are you coming home?”

There was a long pause before he spoke up again, “I, uh, I don’t really know.”

“Don’t they give you guys leave or something?”

He let out a tired chuckle, “Yea. But, um, I’m not sure if I’m going to be coming home for leave anytime soon.”

Your heart crumped inside your chest, “Why not?”

“Got some shit that I’m working on lining up here. Doesn’t hurt to stay close.”

You hated that your bottom lip was beginning to tremble, “Right.”

He knew you too well and you could hear the shift in his tone, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you replied immediately, “Fuck, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you, really. Keep…keep doing your thing.”

“Thank you for always being there. It’s been…it’s been nice knowing someone is in my corner when no one else seems to be,” there was a beat of silence, “You seen my family lately?”

You took a deep breath, “No. Why, everything alright?”

He sighed, “Wouldn’t know.”

You pressed your lips together into a tight line—things had never been simple for him when it came to family, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be home to see you as soon as I can be, alright?”

Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, “Alright,” you were about to say goodbye but your brain betrayed you, “Hey, Nestor?”

“Yea?”

“I love you,” the words fell from your lips, free of their confines after so many years of locking them away.

It might’ve been you projecting, but you could’ve sworn that he let out a sigh of relief, “I love you too.”

That was the last thing that you’d heard from him. He went radio silent after that. You wondered if it was just you that he was ignoring, but no one seemed to have heard anything from him—his own family included. The only things that were running through your mind were terrible. All of your calls went unanswered, all of your texts went unopened. The letters that you sent didn’t get kicked back to you but you never got responses to any of them either. He had blipped off the radar seemingly without a trace and you had no idea why. You lost a lot of sleep over it but at the same time, life didn’t stop for anyone. You had to keep moving forward while a very large part of you was stuck in the past.

You were packing up your room, getting ready to move into your own apartment. You were throwing things from your closet into random bags and boxes—organization had never been your strong suit. As you were leafing through everything, pulling things down off the top shelf of your closet, you were smacked in the face with a stack of papers. You managed to catch them before they hit the ground, tears instantly springing into your eyes when you realized what they were. Your heart sped up inside your chest as you stood on your tip-toes, reaching for the very back of the shelf. The feeling of the plaster underneath your fingers sent a shock through your body as you pulled it towards you. Looking over it, you were bombarded with an onslaught of memories.

Packing fell by the wayside as you sat on your bed, reading through the letters and looking over all the artwork that was still holding up on the cast. How you managed to keep your tears from falling, you didn’t know.

There was a light knock on your door and you looked up, trying to make yourself look much less upset than you were. The smile immediately dropped from your mother’s face when she saw what you were doing, how it was upsetting you. She leaned against the doorframe as she tried to figure out what to say to you to try and make things better.

“I’m sorry, honey,” her tone was sincere.

You shook your head as you set your cast to the side, “Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You hadn’t really spoken much to her about it all—there wasn’t a whole lot to say. You didn’t have any answers and with each day that went by it was less likely that you would ever get them. It was difficult to tell whether or not it was more reassuring for you that no one had heard from him, not just you.

“There’s nothing to talk about. He just fucking disappeared, I guess. I just need to accept it and get on with my life.”

“He was your best friend—you’re allowed to be upset about it, you know.”

Even though you knew it, it was nice to hear her say it to you. Wiping the tears from your eyes before they could stain your cheeks, you nodded, “I know.”

She lightly drummed her fingers on the door frame, “You keeping those?”

There was a long pause before you finally nodded, “I think so.”

She nodded, “I’ll go grab you another box.”

“This thing looks like it’s been through the wringer,” your tattoo artist chuckled as she looked over the cast you’d brought with you.

You managed a smile, “Because it has. I’ve had that thing since I was in, fucking, like eighth grade I think? Long time.”

“What made you decide to get this done now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Figured it’ll be better than moving it from one closet to the next over the course of my life.”

You could tell by the look on her face, that she wanted to ask for the story behind it all. But the fact that you didn’t offer it up, made her not pry. You’d always been open so if you were keeping something to yourself, she respected that. The two of you talked about the logistics of it, and the changes you want to make to clean it up a little bit. You were excited to come back and get it done, though.

Despite the wait, your excitement and nervousness about coming back didn’t fade. You didn’t regret the decision, but it was still nerve-wracking as you got ready to sit down in the chair. She had you look over the pattern she’d drawn up, and when you gave her the okay she laid the stencil out on your arm and got to work. You watched her as she brought it all to life—it was a little cleaner and more grown-up than the original scribbles and doodles, but it felt right. Tears stung at the edges of your eyes but it wasn’t because of the physical pain of getting the tattoo.

She was wrapping it up in saranwrap as she gave you the run-down of taking care of the tattoo. You’d heard the spiel before but you still listened anyway. You had a hard time taking your eyes off of the artwork as you made your way back out to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you let out a sigh as you tried to inspect the ink as best you could through the wrap around your arm.

The next day, you were putting on a fresh wrap over your tattoo after your shower when you heard your phone buzzing in the next room. With a heavy sigh, you slapped a piece of tape onto the wrap and scrambled to get to your phone before you missed the call. Looking down at the screen, you didn’t recognize the number. But it was an off-hour for a scammer to be calling so you answered it on a whim. Worst case scenario you would just hang up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, my name is Rita and I work at Imperial Hospital. I’m looking for Ms. Y/N?”

“Um, speaking?” you had no idea where this was going.

“Good morning. Someone was admitted and you are their only emergency contact—no next of kin listed. Do you know a Mr. Nestor Oceteva?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “Yes,” you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, “Yes I do. Is he alright?”

“He’s going to be fine,” her tone was calm enough to give you the smallest sliver of reassurance, “But we do need you to come in and answer some questions for us. He’s been in and out of it and we need someone who can give us reliable information.”

“O-okay. Yea. Yea I’ll leave right now. It’ll be about an hour or so before I get there though. Is that alright? He’s going to be okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s going to be fine. Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

You hung up the phone and started flying around your apartment to get ready. You had no idea what you were about to be walking into but at this point you didn’t care. All these years you’ve been wondering about him and he was two towns over. You were as angry as you were relieved.

The line of questions that the nurses asked you seemed endless. You knew that it was all important but there was nothing that you wanted more than to be in the room and see that it really was him, that this wasn’t just some cruel trick from the universe.

Finally, the nurse started walking you back. You only heard half of what she was saying to you about his condition as the two of you approached the room. You heard that he was stable and the rest didn’t really matter to you. your hands were trembling as she gestured to the door to his room, telling you that she would give you a few minutes to yourselves.

You slowly opened the door and a sob lodged itself in your throat as you looked at him. He was passed out, whether the sleep was genuine or from the meds you didn’t know. Truthfully, it was almost difficult to see that it was the Nestor you knew and loved—but you could still see it. Underneath the cuts and scrapes, beneath the braids and the tattoos, there was still your Nestor. The man you knew all those years ago was somewhere underneath it all.

Walking over, you collapsed in the chair next to his bed. You reached out and took his hand in your own, seeing the scars and scabs that covered his knuckles. Whatever he’d been doing all those years, it wasn’t treating him well. You let out a shaky breath as the tears started to fall. You tried to keep your emotions bottled up and quiet, but you couldn’t. There were too many there that you had been battling with and pushing down over the years.

Your crying made him stir. With a quiet groan of pain he opened his eyes and turned to look and see who was in the room with him. His entire body went stiff as his eyes flew completely open, unable to believe that you were sitting there with him.

“H-holy shit,” he coughed, trying to sit up, “Y/N?”

He was conscious and able to speak, so you punched him in the upper arm, “As soon as I can my ass, Nestor.”

He winced and smiled, and you could see all of the motions in his eyes, “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“You fucking should be.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

There were a few beats of silence and then he heard the crinkling of the wrap on your arm as you crossed them and he nodded towards it, “Fresh?”

Heat instantly flooded to your face and you fought the urge to get up and run out of the room, “Got it yesterday.”

“Can I see?”

You hated that he was talking to you like everything was normal, but you couldn’t lie and said that you didn’t miss it. Taking a deep breath, you laid your arm down on the hospital bed for him to inspect. A smile instantly took over his features when he saw what it was. He looked up at you, and when he saw the happiness and hurt both in your expression, his smile dulled a little bit.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, Nestor?”

“I know, I know. I should’ve said something.”

“Uh…yea.”

“When they let me out of here, will you let me take you somewhere and tell you all about it?”

“I mean. I guess. But only because I’m nosey,” you managed a smile through the tears.

“I love you.”

The words made your heart skip a beat in your chest, “I love you too.”

“That’s way less clunky than a cast,” he tapped the plastic wrap.

You smiled, wiping the tears away, “Yea, I guess so.”

“I can’t believe you still have the same number after all these years.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, “I kept it in case your ass decided to smarten up and call me one of these days.”

“Hospital calling you on my behalf doesn’t count?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No. No it doesn’t.”

He reached over and clasped your hand in his, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his forehead, careful to miss all the scrapes, “Me too.”

There was so much more to be said, but it could wait. You tried to soak up the feeling of his hand over yours, smiles appearing on both of your faces despite the lost time and the gravity of the situation. A lot of things had changed, but as you felt the heat from his palm and the way his thumb traced back and forth over your hand, you knew the important things were still exactly the same.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

248 notes · View notes

pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11 - Student Council President Sakura / Graduation Chapter

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Youtube playlist for your reading accompaniment

They held a run-through of the graduation ceremony on the last day of class and technically the last day of the trio’s high school life. Unlike their first general assembly, Uchiha Sasuke was to deliver the graduation speech but not without great sulking from Haruno Sakura who landed a close second despite ranking first in their final exams.

And obviously, not without Sasuke trying to give up his speech privileges by campaigning instead for Sakura.

In the end, all three of them were granted speech slots – one for Sasuke as valedictorian, Sakura as student representative, and Naruto as the school’s first national MVP. It was this debacle that led the three of them to brainstorm in an empty AVR after the dry run.

“Done!” Sakura yelled like the diligent student she was. “Let me look at yours!”

Sasuke presented her a blank paper while saying, “It’s all prepared in my head”, and Naruto showed her his baseball doodles.

“Oh God, you’re all so hopeless.”

Then the electricity suddenly got cut off in the AVR. Sakura expected the boys to screech in surprise and cling to each other, but she only heard silence in the dark. She jumped in her seat when the doors opened with a loud bang, a confetti splash, and the lights coming back to life.

Sasuke and Naruto were still in front of her, holding two bouquets of irises and yellow roses. Behind them were the old and new student council members with other students holding a large banner saying Thank you, Student Council President Sakura!

She started to leave her seat to come to them, but they gestured for her to stay on her seat. In front of the room, the large monitor beeped and showed a compilation of videos.

Sukehiro Aoi, an alumni and currently an intern in an animation studio. “Hello, Ms. Pres. You once asked the body to submit a publication material for an event of the student council, and I sent mine through a dummy email with no expectations of winning. I wasn’t comfortable with the public seeing my art. I was afraid of the unsolicited remarks so sending it anonymously gave me some relief. You chose it however, and you knew how big a credit was to an artist. I was really scared when you were able to hunt me down just by my watermark, but my name in the info blast caught the attention of a school board member and referred me to this animation studio. It was the littlest thing, but you handed me my dream.”

Watanabe Kota was a year below them. He has a small frame, round thick glasses, and battled with face acne. “Ms. Pres! People never had much confidence in my physical appearance, so I don’t know what you saw in me when you asked me to take over the school radio. But here we are – we’re airing daily and we even produce documentaries and radio programs. Thank you for seeing what I didn’t.”

Ito Amanaya, a typical jock in the football team, muscular and came across as intimidating, but he had the gentlest cadence. “I was bullied by the same group that bullied your dynamic duo. When you ran them off, you also saved my life. Thank you, Haruno.”

Kimura Shinze, a classmate in third year, beautiful, popular, and the captain of the cheering squad. “Hope you’re having a great day, Ms. Pres. Remember that time when the class was guessing who were our crushes and I blurted out that it was a girl, you told me thank you for telling us. That was…a big deal to me. Thank you for that gesture.”

Himurata Aoi, president of the koto club. “Sakura, I know you had many people come up and confessed to you so when I did try, I was glad that you didn’t give me a bullshit reason like you’re not into girls. You turned me down because you have someone you already love. I am thankful for your honesty.”

The biology teacher, Takahashi Kande. “Student council, thank you for your mental health program. As a single father to twins, I don’t have the luxury of time to sit in a couch and sort out my issues. To be able to do that in my workplace during breaks is a heaven-sent gift. You saved me and my family. Thank you.”

Many more messages came on, from a classmate she lent spare change to, from a staff she helped clean, from countless students who she wasn’t aware she gave kindness to.

“Why….” She asked breathlessly.

“You’ve been beating yourself lately. We thought you needed some reminding,” Sasuke muttered, under his breath, the bouquet still in his hands. “You left some pretty big footprints, Ms. Pres.

“You might not have noticed,” Naruto jested. “But this is always innate and natural to you, isn’t it?”

“Why did you bother so much?” She was reduced to tears.

“It was Naruto’s idea.”

“Huh? You did all the compiling though!”

“Shut up, it was me,” yelled the current president.

“Thank you, everyone.”

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

It was a weekend, but Sasuke requested Sakura and Naruto to meet him at the school gates. He only gave the time and place, and he knew well enough that they would be there – no questions asked.

They stood there, minutes earlier than planned, a first but nothing more unusual than homebody Sasuke asking them to go out on a weekend. Sakura wore an oversized rust shirt over a pair of muted cotton blue trousers tied with a brown leather belt and tan fisherman sandals, her long hair kept in one single braid at the back. Naruto probably expected a fancy lunch with his outfit – black silky long sleeves over gray pants and black loafers.

Sasuke, high on impulsive decisions, wore bright colors, a complete departure from his usual neutrals; mustard vest over a deep violet polo, baggy pants, off white converse, and a white fanny pack. “Well, we’re mostly dressed for comfort, except for that idiot beside you.”

“What do you mean dressed for comfort? I borrowed these loafers from my vice-captain and my feet aren’t used to them,” Naruto whined. “Besides, aren’t you taking us out to a five-star meal, Mr. Valedictorian?”

“Wow, what a way to show off.” Sakura pursed her lips in annoyance. “Don’t worry Naruto, I got your next café order.”

“Ah no. It was just something we heard from the grape vine.” Naruto scratched his head and carefully glanced at Sasuke. “Grumpy got his trust fund today.”

In bated breaths, they waited for him to respond with a scowl or a retort, but he just nodded. “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”

They traveled for three stations and disembarked on the fourth, Sasuke sandwiched in between the two, his shoulders pillows again to their heads and yet such burdens were light as cotton. The surfacing emotions since last week were taking hold of him, but he needed to pull through somehow because breaking down while commuting was one thing he did not really see doing.

“Word just got in. The house was turned over this morning,” Itachi told him over the phone.

“Impeccable timing when I’m also moving abroad next week.” Sasuke pulled out his Bleachers vinyl and anticipated another lonesome lull for the night.

“Do you miss the cream puffs?”

“Nothing comes close.”

“Hmm. I’ll pay for the rental fee of your car.”

In Itachi’s defense, while he was an afficionado of escapism, he also knew how to read between the lines. “Watch me get a Mercedes-Benz.”

“I have a good driving playlist.” This only meant math rock, and Sasuke wanted something to scream his lungs too.

“Don’t need one.”

“Treat your friends to dinner, okay? Gotta go.”

“We’re walking?!” Naruto almost limped out of the train. Sasuke took one look at his heels and saw that they were bruised red. He took off his converse and socks and gave them to him.

Sakura whipped out a small first-aid kit and covered the rash on Naruto’s heels. “Hey don’t look at me like that. Brought it just in case we’re going on a day survival tour. A camping would be nice too.”

“Did you scrub your feet, idiot?”

“You think so low of me grumpy. Of course – last week!”

With Naruto now comfortable, the three resumed walking on the unfamiliar residential area. Sasuke gestured for them to enter a bamboo forest on the far side of the main road. Hidden in the shadows of the clumped stalks were a small opening, the growth hampered and ground rid of grasses and weeds; many people have also chosen this shortcut, walked through the forest, did a little nature bathing, and emerged behind the bakery, still there, still standing, still operating.

Sasuke tapped on the large glass window cum counter on the front and bought three sets of cream puffs.

“Oh, it’s you,” the old baker greeted. “You brought your friends over? You always buy one set.”

Sasuke offered her a smile, briefly glancing to his periphery where Sakura was fussing with Naruto’s feet, and nodded as he accepted the paper bag. “It’s on the house, kid.”

“You brought us to stalk someone’s house?” Sakura dug in one paper bag, bit the puff in one bite, and with full mouth, she sighed. “This is heaven.”

“It’s our old family house, before the accident that is.” Sasuke also took out one puff and munched on it, ruminating on the sight before him, a two-story house with an imposing façade, his mom’s climbing hydrangea gone and cut by the new owners, beds of roses and daisies already withered, but the wisteria tree on the vacant lot beside continued to grow and shade what he supposed were the children’s rooms. It was in his third bite that he saw the tomato fruits he planted, alive and full with harvest. “Do you think my parents know?”

Naruto slid an arm across his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. “Then they would be happy ghosts or maybe they would voluntarily move away to give the new owners the opportunity to make it a happy a home like yours.

“What part are you gonna miss?” Sakura asked, halfway through her set of puffs.

“The sight of the wisteria before I sleep and after I wake up, and the sunlight in my parents’ room. My dad liked to make these suncatchers for my mom. The play of light was a good morning greeting, she said.”

“What’s your funniest memory?” Naruto sat on the grass, uncaring for the stains that would taint his good pair of pants.

“It was probably Christmas when I was seven, and Itachi had this big idea to bake a cake, but he swapped the sugar for the salt and we were wondering why it wouldn’t make a custard. Our parents still ate it, saying it was a very salty version of dark chocolate cake.”

“It was a good home,” Sakura patted the space between her and Naruto and Sasuke sat down cross-legged too, dipping his hand on the paper bag with the last cream puff.

“It was a good home,” Sasuke agreed as he bit into the last vestige of his family memory. He was suckling the powdered sugar off his fingers when he realized he was already crying, and the two were downright sobbing on his either side.

Such an embarrassing sight to see; he wondered what would the new owners feel if they looked out their windows this instant and saw three teenagers breaking down on the road across. It was honestly stupid and laughable to a point, considering how funny it was for grief to become lighter when someone else cried with him.

Naruto was sniffling so much that he had to offer his handkerchief to him. “I forgot to tell you guys. Hinata confessed to me during the cultural festival.”

“Oh my god. What did you say?” Sakura took a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes. She flashed an apologetic look to Sasuke who already offered his hanky to Naruto’s fluids.

“Ah, what else? I had to reject her.” Naruto sneezed on Sasuke’s handkerchief again. “I told her I was in love with someone else.” He slyly glanced at his raven-haired friend and pursed his lips which Sakura quickly caught.

“Who is it?”

“Sasuke also likes someone.”

“Shut your mouth, blondie. Point is already moot. Besides, we’ve already been rejected.”

“Who are these people and why don’t I know them?” Sakura genuinely looked offended. “I could have vetted them!”

“Exactly why it was fortunate you didn’t meet them,” Sasuke said as an excuse though he pegged Sakura for not being that naïve. She, thankfully, let it go and gathered their trash. She dropped the bomb as she was brushing the grass blades from her trousers. “My parents are divorcing. Such a travesty not to have them show up on graduation day, and I thought I did a great job.”

The two, ever so sure, held onto her hands in case she was trembling again.

“Let’s get that five-star dinner,” Sasuke suggested, “and we need to rent a Mercedes-Benz.”

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

Graduation Day

“Let’s welcome to the stage, class valedictorian, Uchiha Sasuke.” Kakashi was the officiating faculty today so she expected difficulty going through the event, but for some reason, he slipped into her mental back burner, no longer taking up room in her active consciousness. That was a good step, she smiled to herself. Her smile became wider as Sasuke got up the stage.

His fans club’s cheers were heard outside the auditorium, and the graduating class chuckled at the quick interruption. He cleared his throat and started his piece.

“Please get it on record that I was coerced to do this speech. Then again, I also had a hand on the turn of events that led me here today, in front of you. And it’s a little too on the nose, but I came to high school with a clear set of goals – have high grades and lead an uninteresting life. I accomplished the first one rather easily, and it’s a good metric for the future that’s upon us right now. Good grades land us good colleges. Good colleges land us good jobs. Good jobs land us good life.

But it’s not the sole benchmark as I have learned lately. You see, my second goal really missed the mark. Good life can also mean good friends, fun experiences, a caring environment, a complete family. If you ticked off each one, then that’s very notable. You have the four-leaf clover, and it’s a rare blessing. I only ticked off three, but that goes without any regret. If you only have one silver lining in your high school memory, then that makes us all the more human. And if there’s none, there is still is still a whole stretch of possibilities we can discover to find one. Thank you for your kind attention.”

Sakura was pretty sure she heard several sniffles across the student body. “The bastard delivered a good speech,” she muttered to herself.

“We would like to welcome our first national MVP, Uzumaki Naruto.”

Outside, the school band played the cheering anthem for his last national games. The cheerleaders also did a routine in tribute to him. That made him well up when he got to the podium.

“Wait oh my god, I’m tearing up so much.”

Sasuke grunted loudly and went back the stage to hand him a handkerchief which Naruto quickly used to wipe his snot.

“Thanks Sasuke. How can Kakashi-sensei let me follow after that rousing speech, and before Sakura too. It’s kinda evil.”

Laughter broke out.

“Well, this one’s a bare minimum. I didn’t have any goals or expectations, unlike genius grumpy over there. I just wanted to live my life like an ordinary boy. Someone said that how you spend your day is how you live your life so I did just that – ate ramen, slept in class because I am a growing kid, and played each arcade game until I won them. I also believe in serendipitous – thanks Sakura for this word, for the spelling and meaning – serendipitous coincidences. I just pitched and batted for former captain Haru one afternoon and now we landed in the national finals. I had loneliness for a friend, but now I’ve got all of you. And you know what else, the magic of working together. We wouldn’t have stepped foot in the nationals if it weren’t for your collective help. When we work towards a common goal, that also gives us common happiness, right? It’s infectious, a bouncing energy that gets thrown around and still makes it one piece. So wherever you will be after this, believe it!”

When Kakashi called her name next, she thought she was deaf, the noise around her collapsed in muted decibels. It took a minute before her fellow classmates shook her and motioned for her to quickly come up the stairs. Her silver-haired teacher looked so concerned in the shadows, but for what it was worth, she was civil and calm enough (at least in the matters concerning him) to nod at him in quiet exchange of assurance.

It was because she saw both of her parents at the side with a bouquet of roses. She struggled with the paper she brought with her although she had it memorized in her head; she even went through it flawlessly for three times last night. Tears blurred the words and the mere shock of the sight of their togetherness disabled her mental function to string coherent thoughts. She also started hyperventilating, her breaths coming faster than what her lungs could pump.

Then she felt Kakashi’s hand on her shoulder, a steady presence, and it reeled her back to reality. He tapped the mic and the feedback echoed. “Ah, Ms. Haruno had some technical issues. Again, let’s welcome former student council president, Sakura.”

Sasuke and Naruto in the front were almost standing, but she flashed them a smile as if to say she was okay now. “Hello, good day to our honorable guests and graduates. I think it’s safe to say that Sasuke and Naruto provided really good words of advice. So I have nothing more to offer, but to share my gratitude. Everyone was saying the student council did a good job in its programs, but it was actually the lot of you who made this possible – from your activity suggestions to participation and feedback. After all, you were the makers of your memories.

Earlier last week, my councilmates and friends reminded me how small actions go a long way – a smile, a wave across the hallway, a short exchange of good morning and see you soon, and I thought, aren’t we all just an accumulation of these small, little things? As such, it was what you think your insignificant moments were that pushed us to deliver you the best. It was the passing comment, the top-of-your-head tips, the interlude stories we hear during lunch breaks that allowed us to give you grand gestures and memories we hoped were worth keeping. And if we could start to use that perspective as well in our lives then maybe the uncertainties of a future wouldn’t be so heavy on us. We will face tomorrow with a lightness in being.

In behalf of the student council, thank you for allowing us to serve you.”

She bowed at a level where her torso was almost aligned at her hips, and she was confused with the lack of reaction. Sakura sighed, mulling over the deficiencies in her speech, but she straightened her back to a sight of a standing ovation and a thundering applause.

Then, she let her tears fall.

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

“Why would you let Kakashi-sensei take the pic?” Sakura hissed at them.

“Just this one time, Sakura!” Naruto grinned.

“Sakura, you’re out of the frame,” Kakashi remarked. “Okay good. Say cheese.”

In spite of her recent heartbreak with him, she permitted herself to bask in fleeting cordiality. “Cheese.”

“Grumpyyyyyy.”

“Idiot blondie.”

Kakashi took three more shots and handed the camera to the trio. He almost turned away when Sakura caught his sleeve.

“Just one more,” she said. “With you.”

Sakura shifted to the front, almost kneeling with the camera angled for a selfie, her two friends beside her looking equally annoyed as the other, and Kakashi behind them, his hands on either head, smiling with his deceptively charming beauty mark.

It was the last picture of their high school life.

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

The three were rushing through the airport crowd fifteen minutes before the immigration closes gates.

“Here!” Sakura slid a folder on the large pocket on Sasuke’s bag. “It includes your passport, your flight details, your valid IDs, your itinerary, and letters from us! Don’t forget our Friday video calls!”

“I can’t see. These tears are bullies,” Naruto said through tears. He was continuously wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“And If I don’t get on my flight because you made us eat ramen for one last time and the orders took too long, I’m gonna have you cursed by a witch and a shaman!” Sasuke growled. The guards were starting to close the gates when a sobbing Naruto sprinted and basically tackled the guards on the floor.

“Sasuke come on, hurry up!”

“Drink your vitamins! And if you miss cream puffs, I’ll teach you how to make them.” Sakura was trying hard to keep pace with Sasuke’s brisk walking, but she ended up breathless anyway.

The three of them finally reached the immigration entrance, and Naruto was profusely apologizing to the guards for the interruption. Sasuke showed his documents, wheezing as they looked at it. They gave him a thumbs up and opened the gates.

The two were already slumped at the floor, waving without words, and exhausted from the clock race. Sasuke was almost through when he remembered something he forgot. He muttered a quick sorry, ran through the opening, and hugged his two friends.

“I’ll miss you.”

#SCPS #student council president sakura #haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #team 7 #sasusaku #kakasaku #narusaku #fic!pseudolily #fic!pinkhairedlily

19 notes · View notes

franeridart · 3 years

Text

Anon said: [Spoilers for non-manga readers] opinion on Baku's hero name?

Very Bakugou, honestly don’t mind it at all! Mostly just surprised it’s, like, legal in the bnha universe for heroes to call themselves stuff like explodo-kills (and also that there isn’t a character limit for hero names??) but that Bakugou would stick with it is pretty damn in character for him so I like it xD still, I’ll probably just call him Dynamight if I’ll ever need to use his hero name lmao

Anon said: not to be the most romantic sap but uh just a kiss by lady a is killin me

Nothing sappy about letting romantic songs get to you!!!! I say, as I’m constantly crying over romantic songs so this mindset benefits me as well lol

Anon said: i may or may not have stumbled across some of your older kiribaku art, the stuff with akane, and she's the best child oc tbh. i actually like her and i tend to not be a fan of child ocs but she's just the cutest darn thing 🥰

I’m so glad you like her!!!!! She was a lot of fun, what a good gremlin ;;;

Anon said: uve heard of dragon!kiri w his hair spikes up, now get ready for dragon!kiri w his hair dowm lookin like the softest boy

AW HECK I think I’ve drawn him in the past, actually!!!! Spike-haired Kiri will forever be my fav Kiri, but there’s just something about hair down Kiri isn’t it!! What a cute boy ;;;; all sharp edges and soft curves, what a lovely sight

Anon said: can i just say your itafushi art is so cute? these two already make me feel and then your art just (つω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I really need to draw them more, don’t I! goge kinda monopolized my attention there, but the way itafushi makes me feel..........boy the way they make me feel ;;;;

Anon said: good day, poké au thought: 12 y/o bakugo somehow catches a dreepy as like his 2nd pokemon and never questions it

WHY NOT WHY NOT I have a whole team in my mind for the boy tbh but dreepy is so cute ;;;; and anyway, I like my poke!bakugou with as many dragon types as he could possibly get his hands on hahaha

Anon said: Please know that, amongst other factors, you were one of the maon reasons I stsrted Jujutsu Kaisen two days ago and there isnothing more to say except thank you and I'm absolutely in debt with you for that, thank you so much 😍

I’m so so SO glad you’re liking it!!!!!! It can get kinda heavy but it’s such a great story.... honestly I’d been wanting to start it since I saw the first pv for the anime all the way back last year but I was like, you know it’s a mappa anime! so I wanted to watch the anime as a new thing, cause I love mappa, but three episodes in I couldn’t hold back and just binged it. It’s kind of story that just makes you wanna drink it all in one go, isn’t it? so good so good

Anon said: makeup artist kirishima and model bakugo or makeup artist bakugo and model kirishima? :0c

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm can’t say I see either of them much into fashion tbh, but if I had to pick probably model Kiri and artist Baku? I just don’t think Baku would be able to stay still enough to get photographed, and he wouldn’t like the photographer bossing him around anyway, and catwalks would be impossible for him to stomach imho, he’s too restless for it! At least it’s the way I see it haha

Anon said: fdgdhdkfhdafs i had a thought, what if bakugo prefers dogs and kirishima prefers cats and when they meet each other and become friends it's like, "oh." because they have some striking similarities to their fave animals

That’s been my headcanon for a while now, actually!! I think for me it came from two characters in a manga I like that are a lot like a dog and a cat but have inverted fav animals and when I read about that I was like “oh, right, makes sense since they like each other” and then my brain turned it krbk because when does it not lmao

Anon said: your art is the soothing balm to my soul recently, thank you for posting so much beautiful content. i hope you have a lovely week. ♡

sob thank you so much, I’m glad my doodling can help you feel better ;; <3

Anon said: Friendly reminder anon from last time: that post I left last time I had only eaten 7 gingersnaps that day and hadn’t drank any water. So that encouraged me to actually self care. Thank you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! well I hope you’re taking care of yourself today too! And as fair trade, I’ll do the same myself! <3

Anon said: Hi! I'm an artist and I'm thinking of making a sideblog for my art. Do you have any tips?

Ah man, I’m sorry but I’m not the best person to ask this to! I started this sideblog cause I had too many followers on my main and I didn’t want my stuff to be seen by that many people at first, so whatever I did probably isn’t what you’re looking for :( but really there isn’t much to it, just post whatever you like to draw, tag it as best as you can (but remember that only the first five tags appear in the search page) and be patient, since whatever you do at first you won’t get much attention anyway - the only real advice I can give is to draw something that makes you happy and that you’d draw anyway even if no one were to see it, it’ll make keep posting despite a possible lack of activity a lot easier!

Anon said: Your goge art🥺🥺

I just love them so much ( TT’’’TT)9

Anon said: how the fuck have i not been following you? I remember seeing your bakushima art in the bnha tag and always thinking it's so cute. Now you're into JJK too??? and the satosugu art??? fuckin, diabetes incarnate. I love it. I love you. Your art 10/10. I'm tired lmao.

WELL thank you for the follow!! And for thinking my stuff is cute!!!!! I do my best with that, I want all the soft things for my favs 😌

Anon said: Are you gonna draw Gojou/Getou comic?? 👉🏻👈🏻 WOULD LOVE TO READ IT

you mean an actual doujin? I don’t think I will, sorry! I’m really no good at long projects orz but thank you so much for wishing to read something like that from me!!! ;A;

Anon said: Hello! YOUR ART IS SO FREAKING GORGEOUSSSS!!! I love them so much!! If I may ask you one question. Between Getou amd Gojou, who do you see as top/bottom? Just curious

THANK YOU!!!!! And I honestly don’t care as long as they’re happy and together!!! please let them be happy and together 🙏🙏🙏

Anon said: i want you to know!!! i followed you for your kiribaku art but!!! i love your art so much that idc what you post because it's all just!!!! incredible and wonderful and stunning!!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!! this means a lot to me so seriously thank you so much!!!!

Anon said: d'you think bakugo has like headaches or migraines after training or battles because of how loud his quirk is? like, i listen to music slightly too loud and my head is sending me to hell. (unless you go with the hoh hc which is also 👌)

I like to think Baku’s body is attuned enough to his own quirk that he wouldn’t get drawbacks of the kind tbh, though that wouldn’t be a bad thought for when he just starts to increase the output/width and strength of his explosions............ well, I myself suffer from chronic headaches and migraines so I’m always up for projecting on my favs ngl lmao

Anon said: so like... dragon kirishima's eyes glow right? like, if we equate his dragon-ness to unbreakable his eyes glow? they also glow when he's half shifted? honestly i just live glowing eyes

Oh hell yeah I’m all for that, definitely definitely, I love glowing eyes with my whole heart and Kiri’s eyes in unbreakable are just so!!!!!! NGH *chef kiss* the more of unbreakable there is in his dragon form the happier I am ( TT^TT)9

Anon said: me, scrolling through your blog: ah shit guess im gonna have to start watching jjk

!!!!! hope it won’t hurt you too much, anon!!

Anon said: dragon!kiri and bakugo having a tug-of-war match over a piece of meat. both have it in their mouths. both are determined to win.

Kiri is turned into his dragon form and Baku still wins, hell yeah

Anon said: your satosugu is top tier!! it's hard to find stuff for them that isn't straight up angst so your art has been super cool and also very very cute!! (tho if you went with angst, it wouldn't be a bad thing obviously)

AH I’m so happy to hear you like them!!!! but also happy you wouldn’t mind angst, as I do like them the best happy and soft but my brain, my brain has been throwing sads my way for a while now 👀 I got some ideas

Anon said: What program/device do you use??

Easy Paint Tool SAI and a wacom intuos!! Though I got myself an ipad+procreate just yesterday and I’ve been messing around with it, let’s see how that one goes!

Anon said: *inahles* i am simping for mohawk man please tell me everything about your ocs immediately or i will detonate

THANK YOU FOR LIKING HIM HE’S CALLED DAVIDE Dav for short, he’s a cat of a man and a music instrument enthusiast (mostly string ones, but he’s very good with the piano as well) - he works in a music instruments store, and he’s a uni student majoring in philosphy! He doesn’t like bothersome things, he isn’t very good at taking anything seriously or putting effort in stuff, but he’s very chill to spend time with and generally a nice chat both if you want mindless thoughts or deep conversations (he’s a philosophy major after all). He can’t sing for shit, he’s got two cats (tago and schelly!), and he just wants a quiet life to laze around but all his friends are hurricanes in human bodies, but then again, he picked them himself so he can’t complain. He’s a good boy!! I’m planning a comic for him and his boy Ross >:]

#fran answers #SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i wish i could say i was busy but actually i just got distracted #ah also #jjk spoilers #cause my sis has a habit of readin my asks and she can't know about the otp just yet #lol #is the readmore for this showing? this is pretty damn long....#long post #just to be sure

146 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached - Bonus

Words Read After the Lights-Out

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5500

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Time apart is usually unpleasant and this time wasn’t as exception. With messed-up sleep schedule, Steve helps himself with one of your writing he knows you finished. Will it help him fall asleep?

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, semi-public masturbation, oral (fem receiving), PIV, hints of dom/sub, and fluff… and language (always)

A/N: @donutloverxo is ‘bad’ influence on me. Hopefully it will make up for me still not participating in the wonderful weekly challenge.

So here. Have a tiny bit more of smut and then I’m done with it. I am not a smut writer, no, no, no, no… but yeah, I had plenty of fun with this. It’s smut in a fluffy wrapping, because of course it is. I’m me. So, enjoy?

(Also, I copied the start of reader’s fic from the epilogue, so just you’re not surprised)

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve knew he had permission – a half-heartedly mumbled one, somewhere between consciousness and drifting to sleep, but still a permission –, yet he felt a bit dirty.

He had printed the pages few days ago before he left, knowing you finished the story for now named ‘the second encounter with Professor R’, morbidly curious, but hesitant to dive in. These were still your writings, your imaginations and they might have concerned him, but they were still very intimate. And he wasn’t just thinking sexual intimacy – it was simply something coming from the very depth of your mind and Steve honest to god didn’t want to invade your privacy.

However, he had asked if you’d mind if he read what you had written, and you said no. He had asked if he could read it then – and you said yeah.

Here. Permission. Clear as day. And you had left your laptop open, still logged in, as if in invitation. So he had downloaded it and printed it out.

And now he was watching you lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that was very much on his side of the bed as if you wished you were cuddling him instead and Steve didn’t crave anything but sliding beside you and pulling you to his side.

The problem was that he had been to a conference on the other side of the country and he nodded off on the plane and not even the long shower made him relax properly. And the last thing he wanted was to wake you up, because the last time you Facetimed, you looked like you could sleep for a year.

Steve knew that the fact he had left you alone for the first time since the rumours started that you two were together and it was no surprise that facing the vultures without the possibility to find solace in each other’s arms was taking its toll on you – he wouldn’t like it either. You wouldn’t admit it to him; you kept the distress about it to yourself, not wanting to burden him. The bed was lonely without him, you had said instead, a claim no doubt true as well – and boy, could Steve relate to that.

So now he fished out the few pages and settled at the desk, only the dim light revealing your words to him, as if they were something that indeed should remain a secret.

Steve spent one more glance at your sleeping form, serene, your lips parted as you softly breathed into the pillow, eyes closed, eyelashes casting weak shadows over your cheeks with the little lamp on and Steve couldn’t stop the corners of his lips rising. You were beautiful and his, lying in his bed, practically begging for him to come and take you to his arms.

Steve promised himself that once he would finish reading, hopefully tire his eyes for a bit, he would do exactly that – falling into a blissful sleep with you in his embrace.

He should have known better, really. He should have known that your story would do everything but lull him to sleep.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Your pen was half-heartedly scribbling on the paper, your brain not quite registering the words coming from his mouth.

You weren’t prepared for a damn history lecture; mostly because when you knocked on the door of the professor’s office, you did not expected to find him not alone; his colleague, the grumpy old idiot, was sitting at his desk, making nots from a book which you probably wouldn’t even be able to lift with how thick it was.

Speaking of thick things… one was meant to be between your legs now, but no, the other prof just had to sit there third-wheeling and cock-blocking—dammit.

Now here you were, sitting opposite to Professor Rogers at his desk, pretending to be taking notes while he kindly filled in your missing knowledge, talking about god knew what.

His voice was a balm to your ears, deep timbre echoing in your ribcage, stirring heat in your abdomen. His voice did things to you no matter what words he spoke and from what distance, but you much rather had him whispering filthy suggestions to your ear, teeth grazing your skin, praises for all the things you allowed him to do to you, with his fingers, with his tongue, with his-

“Miss Clark!” Professor Rogers snapped all of sudden, voice stern and minutely louder than before. Your head snapped to him at instant, meeting his intense glare and a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who expressed a supposedly genuine endeavour to earn your credit? If you could take notes instead of…” he eyed your wannabe notes with the scepticism they deserved “-doodling, that would be splendid.”

The smirk on his lips gave him away as he met your gaze, rising from his seat pointedly.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you said meekly, speeding up the circles and other random motions with your hand. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered off, I got lost in your narrative. It won’t happen again.”

You were so full of shit, because the only thing you got lost in was your own imagination, unholy pictures filling your impatient brain. Professor Rogers certainly knew that too – but he kept the front up for his colleague who just couldn’t seem to leave the damn room if even for a minute.

“It better not,” Professor Roberts commented gruffly, circling the hardwood desk slowly, fingers tracing the top of what he was meant to be fucking you against shall your fantasy come true any time soon. You shifted in your seat, feeling slickness gathering between your lower lips in anticipation. “As I was saying, the battle of Stalingrad…”

A sudden thought struck you when he stood beside you; for the first time in the past hour, you actually wrote something down instead of drawing random patterns.

Professor Rogers looked over your shoulder, reading the line about Professor Banks being a pain in your ass and you going crazy with need for your tutor’s cock. Peripherally, you saw Professor Rogers’ hand curl up in a fist, one corner of your lips rising in a smirk.

If you were to suffer, then so could he. It was a bold move, bratty even, one he might punish you for, but you were willing to take the risk, even feeling a tingle in your abdomen at the premise. Would he punish you? How? Were you in for some impatient manhandling today?

Caught up in your musings, you nearly jumped when his hot breath caressed your ear, a whispered promise causing air to get stuck in your throat, your heart speeding up insanely in your chest.

“Patience. Once he’s gone I’m gonna bend you over this desk…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind supplying you with a helpful visual. You could almost feel his hand stroking the back of your thighs, the curve of your ass over your skin-tight dress, your lower back, and roughly pushing between your shoulder blades to trap you against the desk.

“…the German offensive to capture Stalingrad began in August 1942, using the 6th Army and elements of the 4th Panzer Army. The attack was supported by intense Luftwaffe bombing that reduced much of the city to rubble,” he continued the lecture as he straightened again, as if he hadn’t just vowed to get freaky with you.

His hand grazed the back of your chair, painfully close and still so far, moving to your other side, the heat of his body once again teasing you, his mouth an inch from your skin.

“…and fuck you ‘till you can’t walk…”

Your breathing picked up, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the urge to lick your lips stronger than you. You glanced in Professor Banks’ direction, but there was no way he could hear what his colleague was whispering to your ear, the filthy promises made in between lecturing you about one of the biggest and most important battles of WW II. How could Professor Rogers even focus-

“You certainly have to write this down, Miss Clark—November 19, the Red Army launched Operation Uranus, a two-pronged attack targeting the weaker Romanian and Hungarian armies protecting the 6th Army's flanks.”

“… and ‘till the only thing you remember from this session is my name...”

You couldn’t even make out the words he spoke on normal volume anymore. Your fingers gripped the pen, the echo of sensations from the last week that had haunted you for days ghosting over your skin, your lips, your-

“…and how good my cock feels in your cunt.”

As if on command, your core clenched around nothing, the desperate craving to relieve some of the gradually building desire causing your thighs to rub together on instinct, hoping to create some friction at least. You could imagine Professor Rogers’ pupils dilating at that, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as one simple sentence of yours backfired unexpectedly.

His lips actually brushed over the shell of your ear with his next words, making you suck in air in a sharp inhale.

“You better get yourself ready, ‘cause I won’t waste any time with that.”

You blinked furiously at the statement, your head once again snapping to the other man in the room, who could turn to you any moment, catching you red-handed if you actually went through with it.

No way, no fucking w-

“Did I stutter, Miss Clark?” Professor Rogers hissed irritably and you dared to look at him, shocked to see a wolfish smile, a hungry glint in his eye that filled your stomach with butterflies, causing you to practically drip into the fabric of your dress.

“No, Professor Rogers,” you whispered obediently, your mind racing as you couldn’t make yourself to slip your hand under and just… listen to the command. “I understood.”

He held your gaze as he stepped to your right to partly shield you from view.

Be a good girl, he mouthed, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine, your pussy weeping for him, something inside you begging for you to obey just so you could hear him say it out loud later.

“Then we shall continue. At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces in Stalingrad…”

You inhaled shakily, your hand trembling a little as you let it fall from the top of the table, landing on your leg instead, your thumb grazing the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

Professor Rogers’ eyebrows jumped a fraction, his chin motioning for you to go on, his eyes dark and lustful like a night.

Not daring to cast a single glance at the other man, because he would only make you lose your nerve, you moved your hand under the hem of your dress which was slightly below your mid-thigh, fingers trailing up until they reached the very high thigh-highs you were wearing.

“You seem to be forgetting to take notes, Miss Clark, my patience is truly wearing thin. Let’s move to another battle which was critical for the development of the war, the battle of Bulge…”

The words fell on deaf ears. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart as your fingers slid right into the slickness pooled at your core; just like he had asked a week ago, there was nothing in the way, no underwear. You nearly whimpered when the tips of your fingers touched your opening, the barely-there contact blissful and yet torturous as you craved so much more.

You could feel his gaze on you, studying every quickened rise and fall of your chest, every single motion of the tendons in your forearm and thighs, flexing when your thumb circled your aching swollen clit, your eyes sliding shut at the tingle that ran through your nerve endings, your forefinger dipping into your cunt. You bit on your lip to stop yourself from releasing the whimper threatening to spill from your lips.

His stupid talk, momentarily empty promises, his voice on your ear, his lips brushing your skin, the light pressure on your clit, the finger moving slowly inside you— it all felt amazing, way too good considering that you knew you weren’t alone, but by God, did it add a tiny bit of a thrill, causing your heart to flutter, your core to burn.

You could still hear Professor Rogers talking, not one of his words registering until his fingertip grazed your collarbone, a breath of ‘such a good girl’ caressing your ear. You gulped, feeling your pussy clench, a shudder running down your spine.

“Go on, make yourself feel good. Add another.”

You had no idea how he knew what you were doing under the fabric, but he retreated again, to talk armies and bloodshed and all you could think off was being the good girl he had proclaimed you, worrying your teeth over your lips strongly enough to draw blood almost, third finger slipping into your heat. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, gaze stubbornly fixing on Professor Rogers’ chair, your breathing shallow and quick as you felt the pressure building.

Your mind was turning hazy as you tried to comprehend whether you liked the presence of the unsuspecting professor or were ashamed doing this while he was right there. You massaged your inner walls slowly, carefully despite how much you needed the release at this point, barely moving in or out in the fright of making noise. Your head spun, your thighs trembling softly with your climax nearing, the pleasure on horizon setting your blood on fire.

And then there was a pinch to your shoulder, nearly making you yelp in surprise—but somehow, even in the fog your brain was in, you understood that it was an order to stop and your hand instantly disappeared, curling into a fist on your thigh.

You tried your best to stop the shaking, to ignore the slickness on your fingers, now hopefully hidden in your palm and not on display – and peripherally, you could see Professor Banks rise to his feet, picking up items from his desk.

Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, air caught in your lungs as you attempted to calm yourself just in case he would look at you. As if your sex wasn’t practically pulsing because of the abrupt neglect, so so close to the release you craved.

In a sudden clarity of mind, you swiftly took fresh paper and set in on top of your ‘notes’ and gripped the pen again, seemingly ready to continue writing down important dates and names. You heard Banks steps nearing and you instinctively looked up. You had no idea what face you made, because you had zero control over your mimic muscles, too busy trying not to spontaneously combust.

Whatever he read from your expression, it made him eye his colleague.

“Don’t keep her for much longer, Steven. I’m sure she deserves some fun today too,” the older professor remarked, shooting you an uncharacteristic smile and walked out of the office, his old-fashioned leather case swinging. Professor Rogers’ ‘Don’t worry, Bradley,’ followed him and finally, the door clicked shut behind him, allowing you to release an exhale.

“He has no fucking idea,” you muttered, tossing the damn pen aside, running a hand down your face, while your other one remained curled up in a tight fist.

“Shut you dirty mouth, babygirl,” Professor Rogers hissed, crossing the distance to the door in few long strides, glancing at Banks’ desk to make sure that the man hadn’t forgotten anything he could come back for, and only then locked.

The next thing you knew, you were on your feet, the edge of the hardwood desk digging into your ass, your wrists pinned by his hands.

Your breath was stolen by his mouth, lips taking yours, warm, sweet, soft and demanding, a hungry kiss that had no end, one of your wrists suddenly free as his fingers curled around your nape, tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling, just to get more of you. You submitted easily, gratefully even, blissed out at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, taking everything he wanted.

You gasped for air when he withdrew, his forehead resting against yours for a split moment, his touch on you almost tender now, more so when he brought your wrist to his mouth and left a brief kiss on your knuckles, inhaling deeply, causing your face heat up.

“So obedient, such good girl,” he whispered in a husky voice, thick with arousal, and you could swear you were about to burst. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You were caught between embarrassed and aroused when he pried your fingers open, his tongue tasting your drying juices. Your core clenched in need and as if he could feel it, his hips rutted into yours, his own excitement evident as his cock poked your lower stomach, his mouth once again on yours, your hand trapped between your bodies, his fingers gripping your sides tightly.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” he mumbled to your mouth.

Recalling just what a vow he had made you with the other man still present, you gladly let him spin you around, manoeuvre you to press your front to his desk with no regard for the notes scattered over it. You instantly missed the warmth of his body, but his hands went to knead the flash of your ass, one sliding to your lower back, the other hiking up your dress.

A groan escaped him at the sight of you bared for him, his foot nudging yours apart, his grip on you tightening, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise before they slid lower, dipping into your slickness. His fingertips spread it, circling your clit, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the shot of bliss sent through your veins. A pathetic mewl fell from your lips and you could only imagine the indulgent smile on his face.

“God, look at you, so pretty, so ready for me,” he praised, fingers tracing the lace of your thigh-highs. “I really like these. Good choice…. Hold on tight, babygirl.”

You wasted no time and listened to him, grabbing the edge of the desk as his touch disappeared. You closed your eyes, anticipation building when you heard the tell-tale of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again and as wrong or right as it was, you couldn’t help yourself, missing him. You knew things weren’t as simple as they could be seen – you noticed the little things, unnecessary tenderness peeking through, showing you that you were more than just a mindless fuck.

His warm palms spread your cheeks almost lovingly, slightly guiding you up so you stood on your tiptoes, bracing on the hardwood desk, so close to beg for him to finally fill you up, so con-

“Oh my-“ you cried out, your thighs clenching when instead of his hard cock nudging your slit, a velvety-soft warmth licked at your opening, eager and hungry, wasting no time and opening you further, the tip of his tongue pushing in, his lips sucking every drop you offered. Blood rushed to your head and to your centre, fingertips tingling, your most sensitive parts feeling like on fire. His beard was a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue, rough sensation making you dizzy. “Prof-“

His fingers applied pressure on your clit again, the circling motions making your head spin, your thighs shake again with the intensity of the approaching orgasm as professor Rogers fucked you with his tongue relentlessly, reaching even deeper, flicking his tongue and driving you absolutely crazy with pleasure.

A cry ripped from your throat as your climax shook your whole world, knees giving out, your fingers weakly clutching at the edge of the desk, your body slack against the wood. And he didn’t stop. He helped you ride it out with vigour, humming against your cunt, sending aftershocks through your veins. Only when he stopped, you felt you could finally breathe— his mouth moved just a fraction, a sting on your inner thigh as he sucked a mark of possession, one he kissed afterwards; even in your haze, a soft warmth enveloped your heart. Not a mindless fuck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself…” he muttered to your skin, stroking, squeezing, kissing, moving up and whispering to your hair. Did he just apologize…? “You’re even sweeter than I hoped.”

Your heart fluttered, your hand blindly finding his as it still clutched on your waist. He didn’t retreat, gently squeezing back, knocking the breath out of you when he simultaneously entered you, his whole length in one swift motion, sinking so easily into your weeping cunt.

Professor Rogers moaned as you gasped, your core instinctively clenching around him.

“So tight… so good-“

His hands moved to your hips, his cock driving in and out, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, his thick member stretching you pleasantly after such delicious preparation.

“Professor Rogers,” you gasped when he hit the right spot, his grip tightening.

“That it, babygirl?” he teased, purposely changing the angle, barely brushing your g-spot with his next thrust. You couldn’t help the mewl of frustration, attempting to shift and help yourself, only to meet with the steely hold he had on you. “Ah-ah, none of that, babygirl… you want more? Want me to make good on my promise?”

You really wanted to sneer at him, to snap, but—God, he moved so right the next moment, giving you another taste of the delicious sensation and you nodded fiercely, only for him to still in his movements, thumbs drawing a circle on your skin.

“Yes,” you voiced your request then, earning a satisfied hum and a tap of his fingers. Words are good, now do better, you almost heard him say and you clenched your jaw in frustration. For God’s sake- “Yes, please.”

“Please what?” he urged you as he rolled his hips lazily, dragging his cock alongside your walls so painfully slow.

You sighed, rocking yours hips just a bit – vainly, again.

“Please, fuck me against the desk… Professor Rogers.”

It worked like a charm, a kiss landing between your clothed shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he hummed, the praise giving you as much joy as it did to him, apparently. “Brace yourself, sweetheart, I’m not holding back on you. I waited long enough…”

And that he did; the lecture had been a torture until it changed into a different kind of-

The half-unpleasant memory vanished from your mind, quickly replaced by the sensation of his length filling you up again, and again, again, speeding up, angling his hips so he finally hit the spot you craved to have stimulated, driving in and out with force that made you see stars, sharp gasps escaping your lips with each thrust.

You clutched at the table, unable to hold still, trying to meet him halfway, adding to the pleasure that had tears gathering behind your closed eyelids.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ he groaned and freed one of his hands in favour to take you with him, playing with your clit and making you moan his name as the coil in your abdomen snapped again, causing you clench around him. It tipped him over the edge and you felt him spill into you, some of his seed tickling your opening as he rode his climax out.

You were both breathing heavily as his body laid over yours, the sweat gathering on your forehead and back be damned. You melted into the comfort his weight offered, pleasantly surprised when one of his hands found yours, still on the edge of the desk, fingers interlacing, a wet sloppy kiss landing on the side of your neck.

You could feel him soften inside you, a new sensation that felt strangely intimate, and yet he stayed a little longer.

“Stay right here, babygirl,” he rasped out, the warmth of him disappearing as he stood up fully and pulled out.

You obeyed despite not being sure what was about to happen… your first thought was a photo and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

However, your first thought was wrong.

You heard rustle as he pulled out a wet-wipe, a sharp exhale following – warming it up, you realized later – and then he carefully cleaned you up, soft and wary of how sensitive you were, his mission ending with a brief kiss on the spot where the bitemark was probably already blooming.

“You can get up,” he encouraged you, standing by your side, hands hovering as if ready to catch you.

Now your head spun for a whole different reason. What the hell was happening? What was he doing? What did this mean? You weren’t about to complain in the slightest, but… what.

Professor Rogers was observing you wordlessly, intense gaze you couldn’t hope to understand and you couldn’t help the shame warming up your cheeks, knowing that even with waterproof mascara and quality lipstick, you were far from looking perfect – and still, he appeared to be feasting his eyes on you.

Before you could try and fix it, he caught your hand halfway to your face, planting a kiss on your wrist and reaching for another tissue, taking care of it himself.

You were rendered speechless, eyes wide, lips parted as his own spread in a gentle smile, gaze almost fond as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“Pretty girl,” was all he said, a kiss landing on your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked several times, unable to comprehend.

You were too stunned to say a single word, frozen on spot and yet you could feel your bones melting under his gaze, still unwavering, focused, boring into yours.

Neither of you made an attempt to move – neither of your reached for your handbag so you could be on your way. You just stood there in silence, lost in how incredibly handsome, beautiful he was up-close, finally having time to fully appreciate it – and with the softness of his features, you felt yourself fall for him, caught in the safety net of his kind eyes.

Your mouth opened uselessly and the pad of thumb moved to run over your lips, ending up in the corner of your mouth, raising it in a lopsided smile.

“You called me my first name,” he whispered, effectively bursting your blissful bubble and invading it with horror.

Oh god, you had? When—oh. Oh. Now you recalled it, a tiny bit horrified that you actually called him ‘Steve’ when reaching your peak.

“I’m sor-“

He shook his head and before you could finish, he pulled you in for another kiss, slow, deep and meaningful, his arm curling around your waist as if he couldn’t get you close enough and once again, you weren’t about to complain, placing one palm on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck instead.

“I liked it,” he breathed to your mouth, pecking your lips once more before releasing you. “I’ll see you next week, Miss Clark.”

You nodded automatically, still stunned by the whole turn of events and accepted the handbag he gently handed you.

“…thanks,” you muttered and let him lead you out of the office.

When he unlocked the door, you readjusted your dress, making sure that in any normal circumstances people could see the lack of your underwear; what a reminder of Professor Rogers – Steve – being no less kinky than the first time, no matter how his demeanour now. You glanced at his face again and lost all remnants of sanity.

You placed your hand on his broad impressive bicep and dropped a light kiss on his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his beard once more.

“I’ll see you,” you echoed his words, meeting his twinkling eyes before walking out of the door.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve had to blink several times as he finished reading, trying to get a grasp on reality again, the words and images still swimming in front of his eyes. He needed few moments to process what he just read for more than one reason; he certainly didn’t feel sleepy as he had naively hoped.

He found the story hot, yeah, he wasn’t kidding himself, he was rock hard and aching, but what took him aback greatly and rendered him speechless was the sentiment. The shift in the relationship, the parts of Steve you got to know that you had implemented into the story with ease, the story in which ‘Miss Clark’ was surprised by the professor’s affection.

Steve read in the words the same astonishment and tender awe he saw in your eyes when you first exchanged ‘I love you’, after he had read the very start of this story for the first time and told you that he loved your mind as well.

Even when he glanced at your form now, so tempting in his bed, practically begging for him to satiate the hunger that your words spurred, it was impossible to ignore the warmth in his chest, his heart suddenly feeling too big for his ribcage.

Delicately placing the pages down, he turned off the lamp and carefully made his way to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, the motion drawing an adorable but barely audible whimper from you. Steve smiled for himself and slid beside you, curling his arms around your form and pulling you to his chest as much as he could without poking you with his hard-on, having decided to ignore it until it went away. He just-- honestly, he wouldn’t say no, but just holding you would suffice tonight.

You melted into his body so trustingly and naturally it made his heart ache and sing at the same time—God, he loved you. Then, as your mind registered that he was technically not supposed to be there, your form stiffened before pressing into him further, curling in his embrace, allowing him to nuzzle his nose in your hair.

“Hi,” you greeted him sleepily, but no less sweetly.

Steve dropped a kiss to the back of your head, his smile widening. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m okay, I’m glad to be home and you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm-mm, thanks for the report.”

You turned your head to catch his lips in a welcome kiss, one Steve wouldn’t refuse in a million years; sleepy, a bit sloppy, but one that tasted like home. Yours. And with both of you smiling into it.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

He brushed the strand of your hair from your face, kissing you once more at your admission.

“Missed you more.”

Your grin only widened when you rolled over to him fully, tangling your limbs with his and accidently – possibly on purpose – brushing his erection with your thigh. He hissed despite himself and he would swear he could see a glint of mischief in your eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Oh, I see how it is, you missed me,” you giggled adorably and Steve couldn’t bring himself to be exasperated at you breaking the magic of the moment. And he certainly didn’t feel like telling you what exactly got him into this state – at least not now.

“Not just like that,” he grumbled and you giggled once more, finding his lips with yours, your hand surprisingly moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart, rather than heading down his torso.

“I’m hopeful,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes and even in the dark, Steve felt his heart stutter. God, you were beautiful. Breath-taking. His. “But we should take care of this.”

Your hand slid considerably lower, giving some attention to his aching hard-on, softly curling your fingers around it and stroking and his resolve was slowly – very quickly – turning non-existent.

“I didn’t want to wake you at all. You need to sleep-“ he tried out weakly and you eyed him again, kissing his sternum, still smiling.

“Don’t feel sleepy. And I missed you too. In all the ways possible. I want to feel you, Steve.”

And fuck, he was lost. To your hands, to your lips, to your voice – when did it grow so sultry? –, to the smell of your shampoo and bodywash and your skin and to your damn face he couldn’t even see properly.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a spur of the moment, catching your hand to still your delicate strokes before they clouded his mind completely.

You blinked in an understandable surprise; but he had an important thing to say, simultaneously making a mental note to emphasize it again when telling you he read the second story too.

“Wha-“

“I truly missed you, sweetheart. I love you.”

Your surprise melted into something much softer and Steve couldn’t but meet your lips again, catching a glimpse of that same awe he marvelled at when reading. Your fingers in his hair were an epitome of bliss as you kissed him back with care.

“I love you too, Steve. So much…” you vowed and then there were no more words needed.

Steve devoured your lips, your body, revelling in every soft sigh of his name. And soon worn out after you both tipped over the edge, you fell asleep, tucked under the covers in his arms, the pair of you finally sleeping soundly again after being apart.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

‘One-shot’ Hurtful Words part 1

S.R. masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

I felt like I owe it to you, to them and to myself after the story she was writing didn’t get to be read (Steve caught her writing it). I hope you enjoyed :)

I’m thinking one more one-shot, maybe, will see how it goes, I’ll be pretty busy from the next week, so...

295 notes · View notes

harryhooksgazebos267 · 3 years

Text

Broken Trust~ Part 15

Paring: Bang Chan x reader; Mark Tuan x reader(arranged marriage)

Genre: Mafia au, angst, little bit of everything honestly

Warnings: Cursing, mafia life shizzle

MASTERLIST

It had been about a month since you decided to go with Mark. Ever since then, he had been attached to your hip, barely giving you time to breathe on your own. Was it annoying? Hell yes but you had no choice but to just suck it up and deal with it. JYP and Mark started to plan your wedding more seriously and they were constantly asking you questions about shit you didn’t care about. If you weren’t marrying the person you wanted, why did it matter what the wedding looked like. There was one thing you were looking forward to though.

Wedding dress shopping.

Even if you didn’t care what everything else looked like, you could still look rocking in your outfit. Plus, it would be one rare occasion where you could be away from Mark. Even though he was hesitant to let you go without him. But in the end, you were able to convince him to let you just go with some of the girls.

Best and worst idea ever.

You see the thing is, the people who came with you were Irene, Joy, Seulgi, Jihyo, Sana, Yeji, and Lia. So half of them were with JYP and half on Stray Kids side.

Yikes.

You were kind of glad that you didn’t blow twice’s and itzy’s cover to red velvet or else that would have been real awkward.

AnYwAyS, you currently were trying on some dresses, in fact you were on your 5th one but none of them hit in the way that you wanted them to. Sighing, Sana suggest trying on the big ball gown dress that she had picked out, which you agree to cause why not. Might as well, right? As you turn around to go back to the dressing room, Jihyo’s voice stops you.

“Hey y/n, do you want me to help you try it on? I bet that ones gonna be a little hard to get on,” Jihyo said with a wide smile.

You give her a confused look considering you had just been having the bridal stylist help you the entire time.

“Uh yeah sure.”

Once you make it to your dressing room, Jihyo asks the stylist to go pick out a couple more dresses while she helps you. Once you’re alone, her happy demeanor turns into a serious one.

“I’m sorry to have to do this here but there’s literally no time where you aren’t by Mark or his yes men.”

“What’s up?” You question her as you step out of the dress you had on and stepped into the big one.

“Listen y/n, I know that you wouldn’t have just chosen to marry Mark willingly so I just want to know what’s up. If you’re scared that he’ll harm you or something you shouldn’t be! You’re under Stray Kids, Blackpink, Twice, and ITZY’s protection. We aren’t going to let you get hurt.”

“It’s not me that I’m worried about,” You confess after a few moments.

“What do you mean?” She questions as she zips up the dress.

“Listen, is there anyway that we could meet to talk later on tonight? Like at 10? And if you’re able to can you ask Blackpink to come too? Even if it’s just one of them that’s fine. We could meet in the training room and then go somewhere secluded to sneak bp in or something I don’t know,” You ask her once she’s done zipping you.

“Of course, are you going to be able to sneak out without Mark noticing though?” She questions while fluffing up the dress a little.

“If I say I’m going to train with you I think he’ll let me. I still don’t understand why he’s making me share a room with him though,” You state with an eye roll.

“I can’t even take a shit without him freaking out,” You joke causing Jihyo to snort a little.

“I bet.”

“Jihyo one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“Stray Kids can’t know that this is happening though. Just because I’m willing to explain what happened to you guys doesn’t mean I want them to know.”

“Y/n,” She sighs.

“Please, I don’t want to make a bigger mess then I already have,” you plead.

“Fine but if they find out I putting the blame on you.”

Nodding your head, the two of you exit the room to show off the dress, which honestly wasn’t too bad but it still wasn’t what you wanted.

“Oh that dress is horrible,” Irene said absolutely disgusted.

“What? She looks stunning in it! Y/n, if you weren’t marrying Mark I totally would marry you,” Sana said with a wink.

Ah yes, your gay supportive queen.

Anyways, after about an hour more of dress shopping you finally were able to “say yes to the dress” which was nice. By the time everything was done, you were pretty exhausted and hungry.

“I’m starving,” Sana complained as you all pilled into the car.

“Sucks to suck I guess,” Joy said giving her a little shrug.

“Don’t be shy, stop and get us food,” You said causing Lia and Yeji to hum in agreement.

“Starve,” Irene said as she whipped out of the parking lot.

“Calm down speed demon,” Jihyo muttered.

The rest of the day went by as a blur. You didn’t really do much, you kind of just followed Mark around like a little puppy since, again, he very rarely let you leave his side. You were sitting in Marks office as he was looking over some documents. You were extremely bored so you kind of were just doodling on a piece of paper. Glancing up at the clock, you saw that it was 9:45.

“Hey Mark,” You call out softly.

“Yeah?” He responded, not looking up from the document he was reading.

“Is it okay if I go train with Jihyo for a little?”

This peaked his interest a little.

“Why?”

“Because if I have to sit in this stupid office one more second I think I’m going to die of boredom,” You whine.

“How long do you plan on training for?”

“I don’t know, probably a couple of hours.”

“Sure, go ahead, just be back by 12,” Mark sighs.

“Wait really?” You say with a wide smile.

“Yeah why not,” He answers matching your smile.

“Thanks Mark! I’ll see you later,” You say as you quickly stand up so you can change your clothes. Gotta make it more believable.

“Y/n wait,” Mark calls out, causing you to stop.

“I’m...I’m sorry for the lack of freedom you’ve had. I promise you that once we’re married things can go back to how they were before everything happened with him. I just want to make sure that nothing happens to you before then.”

You don’t really know what to say so you just nod your head slightly. Making sure he had nothing else to say, you exit his office making your way up to your room. You rip your clothes off quickly and throw on the first workout outfit you saw. You honestly hopped that all of Blackpink could come, it had only been a month yet you missed them so much. The thought of being able to see them again made you so excited. After looking at yourself in the mirror, you exited your room and made your way down to the training room. Entering, you were pleasantly surprised to find that the only person in the room was Jihyo. Usually the room was filled with people, usually young rookies, training.

“I just kicked everyone out,” Jihyo said nonchalantly, “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it.”

“Smart move, smart move. So, are they coming?” You question, eager to know if she was able to message them.

“Yes ma’am, just waiting for the call letting me know that they’re here.”

“Gosh I’m so excited to see them, I’ve missed them so much.”

“They’ve missed you too. Everyday they ask about you, so does Stray Kids,” She informs you.

A bitter sweet smile forms on your face.

“It’s good to know they don’t hate me.”

“They’re more worried and confused honestly.”

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by Jihyo’s phone going off. After a quick exchange, Jihyo opens the back door of the training room and glances both ways to make sure no one was outside, after a couple of seconds, you see Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa enter the room, all dressed in black.

“Y/n, make sure the front door is locked,” Jihyo calls out.

You jog over to the front door, lock it, and make sure the windows are covered, Jihyo doing the same for the back door.

“Y/n!” Lisa squeals as she rushes over to you and brings you into a hug, Rosé following after her lead.

“Gosh I’ve missed you guys,” You sigh as you pull away from Lisa and go to hug Rosé, a large smile planted on your face.

“We’ve missed you too! We’ve been worried sick about you,” Rosé says with a sad look on her face.

“It looks like you’ve lost weight, have you been eating?” Rosé asks as she takes in your appearance.

“Yes I’ve been eating mom,” You laugh off.

“Well, you know why we’re here so you might as well tell us everything,” Jennie comments coldly, Jisoo not saying anything.

Big yikes.

You nod your head while you signal for them all to take a seat on the floor.

“Before I start, I want to make it very clear that Chan and the rest of the boys are not allowed to know any of what I’m going to say. It’s just going to make things worse and I’m not changing my mind about the decision I made, am I clear?”

The girls all glance at each other before turning back to you and nodding.

With a satisfied head nod, you go into detail about what Mark had said and how if you chose to be with Stray Kids that he wouldn’t stop until he had killed everyone of them. You then explained how that he promised that if you were to marry him and pick him over Chan then he wouldn’t kill any of them.

“I know it sounds stupid but Mark is a man of his word. If he says he’s going to do something, he means it and I just, I couldn’t take the risk. I know I probably hurt you guys and I’m sorry but you have to understand that I’m doing this for your own safety,” you say, ending your long speech.

“That’s bullshit,” Jennie states while shaking her head.

“What?”

“I said that’s bullshit! You’re coming back with us now y/n. I don’t care what fake promises he has made you, it isn’t a good enough reason,” She fumes while standing up and grabbing your arm.

“Jennie you don’t understand! I want to go with you, I really do but I just...I can’t risk it.”

“Jihyo has been telling us how miserable you look and how controlling Mark has been, we’ll be damned if we let you stay here another minute,” Jisoo finally speaks up.

“But it’s not your decision to make,” You argue back.

“Y/n, listen to me. I know, you’re scared about what Mark can do but we aren’t little powerless kids. We can fight back against him but you have to trust in our abilities. Please, just come back home with us, don’t throw your life away for our sake” Jennie pleads.

You look over to Jihyo, hoping to get some type of support from her.

“Don’t look at me, I’m with them on this one. You marrying Mark isn’t going to solve anything. It’s just going to anger Chan more and it’s just going to add more fuel to his fire. It’s going to add fuel to all the boys fire. What do you expect is going happen once they get angry? They’re just going to attack JYP and that’s going to give a reason for Mark to kill them. His promise is one that I know he can’t keep and even if he does, he never promised you that he won’t hurt or lock them up. I feel like no matter what you do, you can’t stop Mark or the boys from trying to kill each other.”

Jihyo did have a good point....

“But if you guys could just convince them not to, then we could avoid all of that,” you suggest even though you know it was a dumb hope to have.

“And you think that’s going to work? Chan loves you y/n and as far as he knows, you still love him so he isn’t going to stop until he gets you back,” Rosé comments.

“Well maybe I could convince him that I don’t love him.”

“As if he would ever believe you,” Lisa said with a little eye roll.

“I just...I would rather him hate me and believe a lie then know the real reason. I know you guys think it’s a bad idea and that I should just leave but I, I can’t. If I marry Mark, I feel like it gives me more time to figure everything out. He isn’t going to do anything that could possibly mess up my image of him anymore then it already has been and if I do I might be able to gain his trust back. So I know for a fact he won’t kill any of you guys, not before our wedding at least. I just need you all to keep the boys under control in the mean time.”

“I understand what you’re saying Y/n but I just...if you go through with marrying Mark, I’m worried that you’ll be stuck with him forever and we won’t be able to figure a way to solve anything,” Jihyo says, voicing her concerns.

“Maybe, but I think right now that’s our best bet.”

You all sit in silence, the weight of the situation falling upon everyone’s shoulders.

“So, what do you want us to tell the boys when we get home? I’m sure they’re going to be asking questions,” Lisa spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Mix a lie with the truth. Tell them that you met with Jihyo and I and tell them that I explained that I wasn’t changing my mind and that I don’t regret my choice. Just say that I confessed to knowing about plan awaken and that I’m in love with Mark. I don’t know, just say something like that.”

“And if Chan or any of them want to come and talk to you?”

“Have them go through Jihyo, and maybe I could meet up with them in secret. It might hit them a little harder if I say it to them in person. I think having Chan come would be the best bet because if he thinks I’m telling the truth then so will the rest of Stray Kids.”

“And what about us? Are we allowed to come visit you?” Jennie asked.

“I don’t know...Jihyo, if I said I was training with you once a week, do you think Mark would get suspicious? He did apologize to me today about the lack of space he’s been giving me so maybe he’ll be more willing to let me come here, no questions asked.”

“I think if you catch him on a good day and ask him the right way he wouldn’t mind.”

“Then I guess we can meet once a week maybe...but what about Stray Kids? Wouldn’t they catch on?” You question.

“Well to be fair, we still are under YG so they don’t know all of our business. For all they know we could just be going on a mission,” Jisoo comments.

“That’s true...well I’m down for that. This way you’ll be able to update me on things and vise versa.”

You glance over to the clock on the wall and nearly shit bricks when you see it 12:30.

“Oh shit he’s gonna kill me! How in the fuck did it even get so late so quickly? I don’t even have time to get sweaty to make it seem like I was training,” You rant as you begin to freak out.

“Just tell him that originally we were going to train but then we ended up just catching up on life or something, I don’t know but you better get a move on it before he comes down here,” Jihyo comments as she rushes to open the back door and let the other girls out.

After saying a quick goodbye, you sprint back up to your room. Once you make it to your bedroom door, you slowly open it, praying that Mark was asleep.

“You’re late.”

“I know, I’m sor-”

You stopped mid sentence as you taken in Mark’s appearance. It seemed like he just got out of the shower as his hair was wet and he only had black sweatpants on and a black silk robe that was left untied and opened, leaving his chest exposed. You still were getting used to see Mark like this, so whenever you did see him with his chest out in the open it always threw you off.

“Close your mouth before flies go in it,” He mumbles while taking a seat at the edge of the bed and crossing his arms.

“Fuck off,” you say as you feel your cheeks getting hot.

“You know, you’re going to have to get used to me walking around like this. We are getting married in case you forgot.”

“How could I forget,” You answer bitterly as you go to grab your pajamas to change.

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“Mark, I don’t feel like getting into this now. I’m tired and I just want to jump in the shower and go to bed.”

Not hearing him say anything else, you take a quick shower before going through your nightly routine and laying down on your side of the bed.

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“....”

“You know you might not be happy right now and you might feel like I’m ruining your life but I can promise you that one way or another I’m going to make you love me and I’m going to make you happy.”

“....”

“Goodnight Mark.”

“Goodnight.”

TAG LIST (feel free to send me an ask if you would like to be added to the tag list or if you would like me to send a private message every time I update <3): @elenaramos1 @yup-indecisive-girl-cece @ewok7attack @0leelina0 @letterstoskz @lilacyeonjun @leesalts @craftymoonchaos @pajerita19 @basebalgirl70 @imagining-constantly @exfolitae @sangiejoong

Part 16

MASTERLIST

63 notes · View notes

svtshine · 3 years

Text

Tattooed in my heart

Pairing: Minghao x reader

genre: Soulmate!au, Fluff

type: oneshot, imagine

ability: Soulmates that share the same tattoo, which is located on a random part of your body. It glows when you’re going to meet your soulmate

extra: i’m not actually sure if minghao has this tattoo or if it was edited. Feel free to tell me if you know :’). But it’s still really gorgeous and beautiful, inspired me to write this

You were five when first felt the hot searing pain on your wrist. It shocked you and you immediately found your parents, tears running down your face at how painful the feeling was. After a while, a beautiful 8 figure formed on your wrist like an infinity sign, it was gorgeous you first thought, slightly sniffing after enduring the pain for an hour.

Your parents showed you their tattoo, and explained how soulmates worked. Everyone is born with someone they were destined to meet, to love and to spend their whole life with. There were different ways one would be able to find their soulmate. Matching tattoos, being able to feel their pain for example.

It seems that you, alike your parents, had matching tattoos with your soulmate. You stared in wonder of the beautiful figure and wonder what it meant

It was around the age of twelve when you learnt the true meaning of your tattoo. The infinity 8 symbol represent everlasting love and good fortune. Infinite energy, infinite love and endless abundance. You loved the tattoo at first sight, and now understanding the deep meaning that it symbolises made you love it more. You couldn’t wait to find your soulmate, you believed that whoever he was, was someone who would love and appreciate for infinity and beyond.

It was a nice evening, as you made your way to the restaurant you were working at for your night shift. You sighed as it was going to be a long night, but the beautiful colours that painted the sky made you wanna smile.

It was sunset, the hues of orange, yellow and pink mixed together and formed a majestic sight to behold. The wind also complimented the scenery and you stopped for a moment to admire it.

You knew it was hard to be alone, but the thought that one day, you were going to meet the one, that would protect you, love you and take care of you, regardless of any situation. Someone you could pay all of your attention towards and wake up every morning to make them breakfast, was worth every second. You hoped, somewhere out there, your soulmate could watch the very same scenery that you experienced.

You turned your attention from the array of colours as you felt a sting on the inside of your wrist. Your tattoo was glowing slightly and you scrunched your eyes brows in confusion as this has never happened before. However, the alarm on your phone set off, reminding you that your shift was going to start soon. You took one last look at the sky and rushed down the street

Your tattoo glowing brighter with every step

“Minghao, let’s go. coups hyung said we’re all gonna go get some late dinner” Hoshi said as Minghao looked away from the mirror in the practice room and replied with an ‘okay’

He stared back into the mirror for a while, noticing how his tattoo on his back, was emitting a small glow.

“hyung, am i thinking too much? why is my tattoo glowing” Minghao asked frustrated because this was the first time his tattoo had ever done that he didn’t know why it was doing it.

Hoshi came over to check and sure enough it was really glowing, “i don’t know man, but i’m sure it’s fine” hoshi patted Minghao’s back. Minghao packed up his stuff, “we’ll just ask the rest later” hoshi said waiting at the door. Minghao nodded and took one last look at his tattoo that he has grown to be fond of.

He loved the number 8, in fact his stage name was chosen after his tattoo. Coming from a chinese family, Minghao loved the chinese meaning of the figure 8 and what it stands for. Loving it more since it became his tattoo.

He was aware about soulmates, and he longed to meet his destined soon enough. In seventeen only woozi hyung has found his soulmate, and only accidentally. She is very kind and bright, always bringing refreshments for the boys whenever they finished practice. But the one thing that minghao envied about them, was the way they looked at each other. Woozi hyung and his soulmate that it. They always looked at each other, eyes filled with adoration and pure love.

Minghao wanted that, to look at someone and just smile by them laughing or doing something random. To spoil someone and to love that person with his whole being. He couldn’t wait to meet his soulmate and always wondered how it would be like, the first time meeting them.

His tattoo glowed brighter with every thought that passed his mind.

It was a slow night, as you sat on the counter and doodled on a note pad, the design of your tattoo. It was close to ten now and most of the families and couples have already left. There were only a few customers left in the restaurant.

You continued sketching your tattoo and hummed a soft melody to yourself. You looked up to check the time and got lost staring at the second hand ticking.

The sound of the doorbell jiggling pulled you away from your thoughts and you double checked the time, it wasn’t very often customers came in at this timing.

“Welcome, how many of you are there—“

Your eyes slightly widened at the sight of 13 young men that were all way taller than you, pooling into the restaurant. It was a large group and they were all wearing masks or hats almost to cover up their identity.

“Hi, can we have a table for 13?” The one infront spoked politely. His deep voice shocked you but the way he spoke with a warm tone made you less tense.

You flashed them a smile and took 8 menus in hand and guiding them to a table at the back. “Of course, we can only give you this table, it’s the biggest and there’s more space here”

The boys started choosing their seats and flipped through the menu. You took out your notebook and pencil, preparing to write down a very large order.

Minghao continued to stare at you as you focused on what Josh hyung wanted to order. He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened as you took in their whole group but he found it cute.

Even Mingyu whispered to him, “hey she’s pretty don’t you think?”

When you directed them towards the table at the back, he found your voice super satisfying, there was just something about you. That made him want to know you more.

When you finally reached him, since he was sitting at the end of the table. Your whole page was already filled with orders but you continued asking, “what would you like, sir?” looking at Minghao for the first time

He’s handsome.

The way his hair was styled, and how great he looked in his outfit even thought it was coming to midnight and you probably looked like shit compared to him. For a moment you just stared at his lips moving, it was like moving in slow motion and you couldn’t help but focus on them instead of his orders.

Minghao realised you were staring at him and he blushed slightly, praying that under the dim light you won’t be able to notice it. He waved a hand u tik you shook your head slightly and apologised to him before biting your lip.

Oh god that was so freaking sexy—, stop Minghao

You broke away from your thoughts and blushed, apologising to the handsome one infront of you.

“i’m so s-sorry, could you repeat yourself?” you stuttered.

The rest of the boys resumed conversing within one another so only Minghao attention was on you.

“it’s really fine, i’ll get fried noodles and hot tea please.” He looked at your badge, “Y/n”

You nodded, writing it down and announced that you were going to come back with the food.

Minghao’s eyes continued following you as you prepared the plates and interacted with the chef while preparing to serve them their dishes. You just seemed, perfect. he could almost see you glowing under the lights. Minghao didn’t understand why he was so attracted to you.

You served their drinks before going back and getting the dishes. You folded up your sleeves since you didn’t want to accidentally stain it, forgetting your tattoo for a second.

Minghao noticed there was a tattoo on your wrist, but under the lights he wasn’t too sure of the design. He also realised that you were able to memorise all their orders without even needing to ask them twice and found that super cool.

As you walked towards him with two plates of steaming food and placing the fried noodle dish infront of Minghao, that was when he realised he was staring at the same tattoo that he had on his back.

For a moment, he was still taking in the fact that he’s actually seeing his tattoo somewhere else that wasn’t his back. His eyes widened in disbelief and shock.

Minghao instinctively grabbed your wrist after you let go of his plate and looked up at you. Your eyes were as big as his, “T-this tattoo, i have the same one. O-on my back. Oh my god, i found you” he stood up and hugged you tightly.

You processed the information and proceeded to hug him back as tightly as the members cheered you on, some already knew as they recognised tour tattoo but didn’t want to spoil it for Minghao.

Minghao wrapped his arms around you and pulled away, brushing the stray hair away from your face and behind your ear.

“I think this is why i was so attracted to you ever since you entered but, i’m really going to need proof” You whispered shyly as you stared at the man infront of you, who you hoped deeply that really was your soulmate.

“y-yeah of course, do you have a staff room or something here? with more privacy?” Minghao questioned, still smiling and in a daze as he stared at you.

You looked at your manager, and judging by the noise and hoots from your soulmate’s group, he understood you guys needed some privacy and even gave you a thumbs up as you led Minghao to the locker room at the back that was only for staff members.

Minghao closed the door behind him and turned behind from your gaze. He took off his shirt and let you stare at the tattoo on his back.

he heard you gasp in shock as you left gentle traces on his back, following the lines of the tattoo.

“it really is you. I-i can’t believe it, i’ve been wishing for this day ever since i was a kid, oh god i even thought about meeting you just a few hours ago” You said quickly, voice clearly showing you were nervous and exciting about finally finding your soulmate. “what’s your name soulmate?” you asked

“Minghao, love” minghao said, wearing back his shirt and turning around to face you. He lifted his hands and his eyes silently asked if he could wrap them around your hips. You nodded and he instantly pulled you closer to him, admiring you.

“i’ve been dying to meet you too, Y/n. and can i say, you’re gorgeous, i’m so lucky you’re my destined” You loved the way your name rolled off his tongue and blushed as he complimented you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, “Minghao, you’re really handsome too. I can’t wait to get to know you, and i’m really grateful you’re my soulmate”

Minghao smiled at you and leaned in closer, hesitating as he was scared that you weren’t comfortable with it. After you nodded in approval, he softly placed his lips against yours.

it was, magical. A soft moan escaped you as Minghao’s hands came up to sneak around your waist and your hand pulled on his hair ever so slightly. His lips never stopped moving against yours. The two of you pulled away for air.

Minghao laid his forehead on yours, and the both of you smiled at each other. the same thought crossed your minds.

“thank you, for letting me have this blessing as mine”

and your tattoos, glowed brighter than it ever did before

Masterlist

#seventeen #svt #scenario #fluff #soulmate #svt soulmate #minghao x reader #minghao fluff #minghao soulmate!au #soulmate!au #The8 #The8 fluff

70 notes · View notes

thesentientmango · 3 years

Text

The First Day We Met

Read this on A03

September ended long ago, but I said I was going to finish the prompts, and I’m not gonna break my word! I wrote this a while ago, I think October.

Prompt: Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours

Summary- Logan wakes up in his soulmate’s body as expected, however when he finds his own body, something’s a little off.

Ship(s) - Janus/Roman/Logan (Roloceit), Patton/Remus (Intruality)

~~~

Logan checked the letter on his bedside table for the 10th time. He should be asleep, he knew that. He had about an hour before the switch happened and everyone always said it was better to be asleep when it actually happened. Logan drummed his fingers against his leg and took a breath. He wasn’t tired. Not even slightly. Logan checked the time again, fifteen minutes had gone by.

He huffed and lied down on his bed. Maybe if he closed his eyes he would fall asleep…

Logan woke up to the sound of a bird screaming outside. Logan threw an arm over his face and groaned, what a way to wake up. He reached out towards his nightstand to grab his glasses.

Logan frowned as his hand brushed through air instead of hitting his nightstand. He opened his eyes and was shocked with many things. First, how clear his vision was. Second that he wasn’t in his own room and third, that his soulmate put up with those birds every morning.

Logan looked around the small room for any sign of whose body he was in. He was in the bottom bunk of a bunk bed, but the top bunk was empty. However it was clearly slept in. Across the room there was a piece of paper on the desk that normally Logan wouldn’t be able to see. Logan stood up and walked over slowly, he felt off balance as he walked. Probably a height difference, Logan reasoned. Although Logan wasn’t quite sure if he was taller or shorter than his soulmate.

Logan took a seat at the desk and unfolded the paper. In beautiful calligraphy writing, it read:

Dearest Soulmate,

Good morning, or good night depending on whether or not you were able to sleep tonight, I know it will be a struggle on my end. My name is Roman (he/him!)

I am a sophomore at Sanders Academy, but school is not in session yet, which makes you free to do whatever you wish today! I live with my wonderful roommate Remy (she/they/he) and my twin, Remus (he/him). I would recommend not taking anything he says too seriously. He will try to scare you. Fortunately he’s paying back his friend a favor so he won’t be around much today.

I do hope we live close enough to meet today, however if not I would hope you would leave your contact information somewhere, and I will try to do the same if my memory serves me!

My friend Patton (they/them) will be coming by at about ten am, they said that when they swapped with their soulmate it was nice to have a friendly face to show them around! Patton’s really chill though, so don’t worry about time and all that! The plans are loose!

Like always I have procrastinated until the very last moment to write this, so I hope I have provided as much information as you need! If you have any questions, Patton has known me since I was seven so they can probably answer you!

Truly yours,

Roman Enfys Pride

Oh! Ps my phone can use face ID, so you should be all good to use it!

Logan smiled as he set down the note, the note was littered with doodles, the more detailed ones were next to each of the names there was a little doodle of a person. Probably to help Logan identify them when he met them, it was an incredibly thoughtful gesture.

Well Sanders Academy certainly sounded familiar, it was where Logan was currently going to school. Logan glanced around for a clock or something to tell the time. He spotted said phone charging on the floor by the door. Logan picked it up and hummed at the time, it was nine o’clock. That gave Logan some time before his soulmate’s friend came over.

Logan looked around, there was a mirror on the desk. He walked over and examined his soulmate, the body he was in, in the mirror. Logan had to admit this Roman person was quite beautiful. His face seemed to be mostly symmetrical, besides the freckles which were scattered and almost random looking, his eyes were dark brown and deep.

There was a knock at the door. Logan whirled around and immediately stumbled slightly, he was not used to this body.

“Um come in.” Logan said. His voice felt very unfamiliar as it slipped past his lips.

The door creaked open and a person wearing a purple hijab walked in and leant against the doorframe, Logan identified them as probably Remy based of Roman’s doodles.

“Hey,” they said, “I take it you’re not Roman?”

“That is correct,” Logan said. “My name is Logan. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Remy.” She said, “Are you from nearby?”

“I believe so.” Logan said.

Remy rolled their eyes, “Did Roman not write down where we are? I swear he thinks of everything but the obvious.”

“No, he did.” Logan said, “it seems we go to the same university.”

“Huh.” He said, “well cool. I’m making breakfast right now, would you like some?”

Logan nodded, “that would be lovely.”

Remy walked out leaving Logan in Roman’s room. Logan grabbed Roman’s phone, and walked over to the closet in one corner of the room. The closet was very clearly split in half, with one half all neatly hung up and the other half half heartedly strewn over the hangers and crumpled.

“Hey~”

Logan turned around at the greeting. A person who looked somewhat familiar stood in the doorway. Remembering the letter, Logan assumed this was Remus.

“Good morning. You are Remus?”

“Yep!” The person slinked into the room and sat on the desk. “Wear whatever you want from there. I’m not possessive over my clothes, and we’re the same size.”

Logan hummed, “Thank you.”

Based on how wrinkled Remus’s clothes were, Logan assumed the neater half was Roman’s. After some consideration, Logan pulled out a pair of black ripped jeans from the more crumpled side and a grey tank top and a flannel from the neater side.

Remus pointed at a drawer in the wardrobe. “His socks and underwear are in there.”

“Thank you.” Logan said.

Remus hopped off the desk and gestured to a drawer, “if you want to accessorize, that sort of stuff is in there, Roman’s got a lot of that sort of stuff. See ya!”

Logan watched Remus leave curiously, despite Roman’s letter, Remus seemed nice.

Logan got dressed quickly and grabbed a pair of sneakers as well as a pair of silver star earrings and a few necklaces he thought were aesthetically pleasing and headed into the apartment. Remy looked at as Logan walked out and Remus grinned and walked back into the bedroom. Remy handed Logan a plate with a couple of pancakes on it.

“Where is Remus going?” Logan asked.

Remy snickered, “probably to wear some of Roman’s clothes. He usually doesn’t let Remus do it normally, but he’s not here to tell Remus off, so…”

Logan smiled, “Ah siblings.”

After a few minutes Remus skipped back into the room wearing a crop top and shorts over fishnets with combat boots. “Did you miss me?” He asked as he sat down at the counter.

“Knowing your luck Roman’s gonna find out,” Remy warned.

Remus waved them off, “Oh whatever! He’ll be too preoccupied even if he does see me! And anyway we share clothes sometimes.”

As the time passed, Logan found that he quite liked Roman’s roommates. Remy and Remus were very funny and worked off each other very well. Logan could only imagine with Roman here it would be even more comfortable.

There was a knock at the door, and Remus skipped over, “I’ll get it!” Remus flung the door open and immediately hugged the person on the other side of the door. “Patton!”

“Hi love!” Patton said, before they pulled back and tried to look into the apartment, “Is today going well?”

“Yep! I’m gonna go over to Janny’s soon, and apparently Logan lives nearby!”

“Logan…” Patton glanced over and made eye contact with Logan, “So that’s your name right?”

“Indeed.” Logan said. “I would like to visit my apartment to see if my soulmate is there.”

“Sounds good! How are you Rem?” Patton asked as they stepped a bit further into the house.

“I’m good!” Remy said, “I’m going out, so you should probably take a key since Remus is gonna be at Janus’s.”

“Speaking of-!” Remus said as he pointed at Patton, “When you get to wherever you’re going text me!”

“What is that speaking of?” Logan asked.

“Well Jan would kill me if I ditched right away, but if their soulmate’s a dick I’m gonna go...”

Patton leant in and whispered something in Remus’s ear.

“I know.” Remus said, “he won’t care! It’s fine.”

“Alright, well Logan, do you wanna go see if we can find your place?” Patton said, as they smiled at him encouragingly.

Remus’s phone started to screech, and Logan clapped his hands over his ears.

“Whoops sorry!” Remus said as he checked his phone, “Oh! I’m getting a call from an unknown number! I wonder if it’s a kidnapper!”

“Or it’s Janus.” Patton pointed out.

Remus hummed, “yeah or that.”

Logan stood up and brushed his hands on his legs, “Well while you are occupied with that, I am perfectly ready to go Patton.”

“Great!” Patton said, they took Remus’s hand and squeezed it slightly, “I’ll text you when we get to Logan's. Now don’t leave Janus hanging!”

Remus winked at Patton before answering the call in a slightly over the top voice, “helllo! This is the wonderful Roman speaking~”

Through the phone Logan heard the slightly robotic cracking and a voice say, “Remus I know it’s you.”

“Aw! I can never trick you!”

Patton held out a hand towards the open open door, “After you!”

Logan knew where he was so he was pretty easily able to lead Patton through the streets. “Yes I am double majoring in Aerospace Engineering and Mathematics. It’s a lot of work, but it’s fascinating. What are you-” Logan suddenly paused, he or well his body was walking down the sidewalk towards them. “Oh I- Patton it seems Roman is coming to us.”

Patton glanced around, the only other person around was in Logan’s body, “Oh so that’s you! Or what you look like.”

“Yes.”

Patton waltzed up to them and grinned, “Hey!”

“Roman,” Logan said.

The person in his body raised an eyebrow, “I mean I knew you were a bit egotistical, but really Roman, the first thing you say when you walk up to people is your name? This is a whole new level of self importance.”

Patton laughed slightly, but it was more awkward than normal. “Right you’re Roman today.” They said as they looked at Logan. They looked back at the person in Logan’s body. “So how was your morning?”

They sighed, “Patton, Roman what do you want? I frankly have no time for this.”

“You’re not Logan,” Patton clarified, which earned a slightly strange look from Logan.

“Is this what this is about? No I am not Logan. My apologies for being such a disappointment.” Their voice was thick with sarcasm.

“Who are you then?”

They rolled their eyes, “Listen, I’d tell you who I was but frankly you don’t like me and clearly you’re friends with Logan, so by association he probably doesn’t like me much either. So I’m leaving and you need to leave me alone too. Maybe I can explain myself before he decides he hates me for certain.”

Logan heard a familiar electronic buzz and his soulmate pulled out his phone out of their pocket. They answered the phone as they pinched the bridge of their nose, “Yes?”

There was a pause before Logan’s soulmate drew back their hand and opened their eyes with a disbelieving look in their eyes, “What the hell did you do?”

They frowned, “Oh I don’t believe that for a second. They literally screamed and ran away and you’re saying you did nothing?”

They ran a hand over one side of their face as they listened to the other person’s reply, “Well that’s not nothing. But you’re right, it does seem like an overreaction. I’m on my way.” They hung up and looked back at Patton and Logan.

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait Roman!” Logan said.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” They asked, “That’s your name if you’ve… oh wait…” they stared intensely into Logan's eyes and Logan fidgeted under the observant glare of his own eyes. “You’re not Roman.”

It wasn’t a question. Logan nodded anyway and extended a hand, “I’m Logan, nice to meet you.”

“Ah… well good luck finding Roman.” They began to walk off. “And don’t follow me!” They called back.

Logan watched them walk away, after a couple of paces they pulled out their phone and Logan thought he heard them say, “Yeah it’s me again. What’s their name?” But by that point they were far away and hard to hear.

“So we follow them right?” Logan said.

“It’s your call,” Patton said. “But if it were my soulmate I know I would.”

“Come on,” Logan said, “let’s not get left behind.” They began to speed walk down the sidewalk, but they kept about fifty feet back, just to make it not obvious.

When they walked into a building Patton paused, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

‘“What?”

“This is where Janus lives.”

“That’s the person who’s soulmate Remus was going to help.” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Patton said, they sounded hesitant.

“Well I’ve come this far, I’m certainly not backing down now,” Logan said. “You don’t have to come, however I would appreciate it if you would tell me which apartment I am looking for.”

“No no, I’ll come. I just... don’t know Janus that well.” Patton opened the front door and pointed towards the stairs. “That way!”

Logan walked in and let Patton lead the way up the staircase and eventually they stopped outside a door. “This is it.”

Logan took a breath and knocked on the door. There was mumbling on the other side and then the door opened. Logan was face to face with the person in his body again.

They sighed. “You followed me.”

“I wasn’t just going to let you go,” Logan said.

They considered Logan for a moment, before stepping aside. “Come on in you two.”

Logan and Patton walked in, Logan recognized one of the two people sitting at the kitchen table as Remus, but the other one wasn’t familiar to him. However the one who Logan didn’t recognize seemed to recognize him since as soon as they locked eyes they gasped and looked over at Remus with wide eyes.

“So you weren’t lying!”

“Of course I wasn’t! I might steal your clothes but I’m not mean!”

Patton sat down next to Remus and smiled slightly, “Hey,” they whispered.

Logan was still standing awkwardly at the entrance. The person in his body glanced over, “Logan, do come in. I mean this will totally resolve by just standing there.”

“Right.” Logan said, “Um, are you Janus?”

“Yes.” They said, “That is my name. Come in.”

Logan stepped in and stood at the counter next to the person he didn’t recognize. “Hello,” Logan said, “You’re… Roman?”

He nodded very quickly, “wow I, two? I mean Remus said but- wow it’s so weird to see my body out of body like this.”

Logan smiled slightly as Roman rubbed the back of his neck, “I understand what you mean.” Logan said gently.

Roman opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and just nodded.

“Cat got your tongue Roman?” Janus purred, “Usually you have much more to contribute to every conversion.”

Roman looked down at his hands as he fidgeted, “This just feels unreal.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Patton nudge Remus and whisper something to him. They both stood up and tried to sneak out, although everyone saw them leave, and Remus stumbled over the coffee table.

Janus, ignoring the racket Remus was making, sighed and began to pick at Logan’s nails, “You desperately need a manicure.” They commented after a couple minutes.

“Really?” Logan said as he glanced over at his hands, “I thought I took decent care of myself.”

Janus shook their head, “Absolutely not. Do you bite your nails?”

Logan laughed slightly, “Occasionally. I try not to, it’s a hard habit to break.”

Janus hummed. “We should go out when all is said and done or I can do it your nails myself.”

Logan nodded, “I’d like that.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Logan turned to Janus. “What did you mean when you said Roman and Patton don’t like you?”

This caught Roman’s attention, he’d been relatively phased out of the conversation, and he glanced up sharply.

Janus looked uncomfortable and they sighed, “Because it’s true.” They looked up at Roman with an unreadable expression on their face. “Roman I know I’m not your ideal soulmate, I’m sure you were disappointed to wake up in my body.” Janus stared down at their hands, Logan wondered if they were seeing their hands or Logan's. The hands began to shake and Janus balled them into fists and looked away. “You might deny it, but I’ve noticed how you act around me.”

“I- I don’t hate you.”

“I never said you hated me. I did claim you didn’t like me though.”

Roman shook his head, “I don’t- why- I- What did I do that ever made you think I didn’t like you?”

Janus began to count off reasons on their fingers. “You always avoided me whenever I came over. I’ve heard you talking about me when you think I can’t hear you. Remus wouldn’t tell me what’s going on, and he has almost no filter. On multiple occasions I saw you purposely avoid eye contact with me. When I walked up to you talking with Patton on several occasions you’ve changed the subject. Not to mention the lovely nicknames. You can see how you disliking me was the only plausible conclusion.”

“Oh my god no!” Roman began to ramble, “If I knew you thought I didn’t like you I would have just talked to you or let Remus tell you, but I just had the biggest crush on you and it felt like I was betraying my soulmate, I mean your my soulmate but I didn’t know that so I had to avoid you! To, you know, like repress it? But that didn’t work, I mean now I’m very glad it didn’t work but like-” Roman took a breath, “I suppose I was just scared. And I’m really sorry about the nicknames, I didn’t realize they were hurting you.”

“I didn’t really mind the nicknames, I actually like some of them.” Janus said, “Just combined with everything else it was…”

Roman said, “I am really glad you’re one of my soulmates.”

Janus wrung their hands, “of course.”

Roman frowned, “Janus, please look at me.”

They looked up. They tried to look disinterested, but there was underlying fear in their expression. Roman didn’t seem to notice as he took a breath, “I am so sorry, and I know it’s going to take time to fix, but I promise I’m going to keep trying.”

Janus smiled, “I appreciate that.”

Roman nodded and after a few seconds he said “I can’t wait to properly meet you both.”

“Properly?” Janus asked.

“This doesn’t count?” Logan said.

“Absolutely not!” Roman said. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to look at your beautiful faces as I talk to you.”

“Well we have a full day of not meeting, so what do you want to do?” Janus asked.

“We could play some games?” Roman suggested.

“I would love to make you both dinner,” Logan said.

“You can cook?” Roman asked excitedly.

“You are way too excited about that.” Logan said apprehensively, “But yes.”

“From what I know from Remus, Roman isn’t exactly one to be trusted with cooking.” Janus frowned, “Now that I think about it I don't think I would trust Remus or Remy with a stove either.”

“Well we manage!” Roman said defensively, “but I am excited!

Logan looked between his two soulmates as they discussed the various ways in which Roman’s apartment was filled with chaos demons masquerading as people who should not be near hot objects.

He could get used to this.

46 notes · View notes

your-denki-kun · 3 years

Text

The Past Should Stay The Past

Kirishima x bakugou

Warning: Suicide attempt, negative thoughts, mentioning of voices, angst, mentioning of bullying, depression, deep thoughts, shitty writing

What: Angst with good ending

A/N: So fun fact I first wanted this to be a story in Bakugou’s point of view, but then I got the idea to make it like a diary thing and ended up making this. I hope you guys enjoy and feel free to make requests, I don’t do smut.

~???? pov.~

It happened three days ago. No one saw it coming and yet it didn't come as a surprise. Funny how those things work from time to time. We hadn't seen Bakugou in about a day and started to get faintly worried, because no matter what he did to Midoriya in the past he's still our classmate. The reason we got worried is because Bakugou always leaves his room at least once a day.

We voted on who was going to check and it had been me, when it comes to Bakugou it's almost always me. So I went up to his room, not really bothered by having to check up on him because I'm worried and sometimes I hear strange sounds coming from his room when it's silent in mine. I had knocked on his door only for it to stay silent.

After a bit I knocked again, yet I didn't get an answer. I told him I was coming in and tried opening the door, but it was locked, so I kicked open the door. That's when I saw it. He was laying in the middle of his room, on the floor with foam escaping his mouth as he was trashing on the floor.

''BAKUGOU!!!'' I had yelled as I ran over to him and pulled him onto his side so he wouldn't choke.

I remember screaming for someone to call and ambulance. Sero, who had followed me up, glanced inside the room confused and quickly called an ambulance as he told everyone else to stay away from the room. It didn't take long for the ambulance people to come and take him with them.

That brings us to now, three days after that. School has been canceled for the rest of the week for us to recover from the shock. This is my first day back at the dorms, seeing I have been with Bakugou since he got brought into the hospital. I'm in his room now, looking for clues as to why. Soon I find his diary and after contemplating for a bit I open it and start reading.

'Okay, I ain't going to make it sappy and write all the classic shit, I'm just going to write down my fucking thoughts or whatever. I read it worked on the internet. So....It's been a few weeks since everything started. Random extra's have been whispering comments about me to each other while giving me disapproving glances and glares. I don't fucking get why it's getting to me but whatever.

I've also been noticing the shitty extra's from the squad have been distancing themselves from me. They no longer want my help studying and more often than not they hang out without me. For some shitty reason it makes me feel really shitty. God this shit is stupid.'

I read on the first page. My eyes tear up as I flip to the next page.

'Been about four days since I last wrote in this shitty thing. Today shit got physical. This bitch purposefully bumped into me and then kicked me before laughing and walking off with her shitty friends. Fucking bitch.

Shit is becoming weird when I'm alone. I will hear these shitty voice that tell me fucked up things, it leaves when I have others to focus on. No one wants to fucking be around me however, so that is shit. I hope these shitty voices will leave before I go fucking mental. I think I might be writing in this shitty thing again because it makes my chest feel lighter for a bit or some shit.

God I sound so fucking sappy right fucking now. Guess that's what happens to people when you get emotionally overwhelmed.

The shitty extra's have stopped talking to me. I removed myself from the shitty group chat. Life has become so fucking dull now. God I hate to fucking admit it but I miss them. God I really am turning into a fucking sap. This shit is stupid.'

I feel a few tears falling as I read what he wrote. I'm glad that even when he writes he's vulgar, because that means he was still feeling like himself somewhat, but what he writes is so sad and depressing. The page beside it has random doodles on it which I can't really make out, so I flip the page and start reading the next one.

'Welp, I'm writing in this thing again. It's been, uhm. three weeks I think since the last time I wrote in this. I should really put dates on these pages, but I'm to tired to do that. Sleeping is hard for me the last three days. Every time I close my eyes I see bad memories of the past. Deku, if you ever read this, I'm so sorry for what I did.

I could never say that to you in real life, because that means showing you I'm defeated. That's right, I'm defeated. I'm slowly breaking and no one sees. The last week I cried more than I have in all the time I’ve been alinve. I cry myself to sleep and no one notices. Guess that's my fault though, I’ve always been a distant person.

I'm glad concealer was invented, because it helps me with hiding the bags under my eyes. I can't hide the deadness of my eyes however, but it's not like anyone notices so what's there to hide? The voices are wining, slowly. It's becoming harder to fight them and they pester me every minute of the day.

The shit I doodle on the side of my note books and papers have also taken a dark turn, just like my mind. Yesterday I drew a black figure hanging from a noose that was attached to the ceiling. A chair was on the ground. The figure was tired of everything, just like me. Funny how something as simple as words can change a person.

Sometimes the voices tell me to end it. I won't. Not yet at least. And I already established that if I do end it, I won't hang myself. It's too slow and painful. I think I'll either slit my wrist or OD. It feels weird writing that down. God I really hope no one ever reads this shit.

I've been silent in classes, barely talk anymore. The only times I talk is to answer a question from a teacher. My classmates don't talk to me anymore, not even when we're teamed up during hero training. It's weirdly lonely, which is new for me. Guess I deserve to be alone however, so I don't really deserve to complain about it.

How did Dek Izuku deal with my shit for so long? I can't even deal with it for four shitty months and he dealt with it for eleven years. I really am weak, just like everybody always tells me. Even the hag thinks I'm weak. Can't disagree anymore though. I wonder if any noticed how silent I've become. Guess they don't, but still. This is stupid.'

Tears stream down my face as I read what he wrote down. It takes up about two pages of the diary and it's breaking my heart even more than it's already broken. As I read a few more pages I notice how every thing is becoming more depressing and depressing. One page catches my attention however.

'Izuku told his friends about what I did when we were younger. Uraraka told the others and now I really don't have anyone left. I deserve it though.

The voices are annoying as hell and won't stop degrading me and telling me to end it. In a way I get where they're coming from. Guess this is what you get for bullying your childhood friend.

Is loneliness supposed to hurt so much? Don't know. Can't really ask anyone either. Guess I'll be pondering about that for a while now. The voices will probably tell me this is nothing. Guess it isn't. God I should be stronger. What the fuck am I doing here?'

I flip the page and read a few more before another one catches my attention.

'It's decided. The day after tomorrow I'll OD, cutting hurts too much and is too slow. People could find me easily when I cut myself. If I OD it isn't very painful, but not painless and it will be quick. It will end my misery fasted, yet still a bit painful.

I drew another suicide drawing. In this one a black figure is standing on top of a building, an empty bottle behind them on the roof and foam spilling from their mouth. The figure is half leaning off it, arms spread as they're just about to fall. I drew one after it, the same figure, but now on the ground surrounded by blood as their body is broken and bloodied.

I’m gonna stop writing in this now. The only things I'll be writing is letters to the people I care about. This is stupid.'

I drop the diary and wipe at my eyes, trying to get a clearer view before getting up and stumbling around his room to find the letters he was talking about. As I open the drawer of his desk I see one single envelope with my name on it. I grab it with shaking hands before turning it around and opening it. I pull out the papers with writing on it and start reading.

'Hey Kirishima,

No idea if you'll even read this, but deep down I hope you do. The only hope I have at the moment. I don't know if you've noticed, but the past half year I’ve been getting bullied. People will beat me up, call me things and talk about me as if I'm not there. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but I'm not as strong as Izuku.

I have never been. That's why I bullied him, because even though he didn't have his quirk back then, he was still better than me and I hated that. I thought that if I bullied him it would stop and he would break and I would be better, but it didn't work. The reason I wanted to be better is because people told me I was better than him.

If you found this you've been looking around my room, I don't blame you. I have a feeling you found my book in which I wrote first, seeing it was pretty much out in the open. No one would have found it, but I know you did. You know my room better than any one else because you've been here the most.

If you've read it you know why I did this, if you didn't read it.... I OD'ed because I didn't see the point in living. The voices in my head have been telling me to do this for a long time. I finally decided to give in. And here we are.

On the one hand I hope someone finds me and is able to safe me. On the other hand I hope no one finds me until it's too late. I can't take this anymore and I know that makes me weak, but I've already accepted I’m weak a long time ago. Well....Not that long, but for about four months now.

Don't be sad. Please don't be. There is no point in being sad. I....Well, I didn't deserve to be here in the first place, at UA. For some fucked up reason I got accepted however. I got kidnapped and ended All Might, I ruined everyone's lives and got us all in trouble. I guess that was the time shit changed.

I got kidnapped and ever since things have been going down hill. The hag called me weak, you guys had to safe me because I couldn't safe myself, I ended All Might, got you all in trouble, failed my provisional license exam, got into a fight with Izuku and got us on house arrest, I almost lost you.

That really hurt me. When they told me you had gotten hurt while saving Eri. I think that's when I realized what you are to me. That must confuse you...Let me explain. Ever since I met you you have always wanted to be my friend. I still don't know why you wanted to be my friend, but I'm glad.

Maybe that's why I got into UA, to meet you. Anyway, I'm getting side tracked. At first I hated you for wanting to be my friend, I didn't see the point of having any. Soon you showed me that having friends is great however. You and the others were never too bothered by my behavior and stuck with me.

No one has ever stuck with me for as long as you guys did. My past friends just used me for a good image at school. Soon you became my best friend, after the sport festival to be precise. You are my first best friend after Izuku. You stuck with me, made me laugh and smile. You were always there for me.

When you reached out to me that day I knew you'd always have my back. And then you got hurt. You were unconscious and in the hospital. It was then I realized I love you, Eijirou Kirishima. So, so much. I snuck into your dorm and stole a hoodie which I put around a pillow and hugged every night until you were back here at the dorms.

But all good things must come to an end. You realized how I truly am and decided that that is not what you want as a friend. I understand that, I do. Don't feel bad for leaving me behind, never ever feel bad about that.

Like the stupid audio I used to listen to says; I'm used to it. I'm used to people walking out of my life, I'm used to people talking bad about me, I'm used to people pretending to be my friends, I'm used to being let down, I'm used to being lied to, I'm used to being heartbroken.

You didn't let me down thought. Never did you let me down. God, you exceeded all my expectations. Don't ever change yourself, no matter what people say. Because that's the biggest mistake of my life, changing because others wanted me to. I hope that when you read this letter you understand I'm not the vulgar person I let everybody believe I am.

I'm actually a kind, caring person. But because of my quirk people expected me to be different, so I changed so they wouldn't be let down. I care a lot about what others think and being angry is my mask. When I'm angry people won't notice I'm hurting or happy or anything. They just see me being angry.

This is a long letter, sorry about that. I just wanted to get everything off my chest even if no one ever reads this. You are the best friend I could ever hope for so continue being a great person, become the best hero out there. Make me proud. Well, I already am so proud of you, but make me even prouder.

I love you, Eijirou Kirishima.

Yours truly, Katsuki.'

Tears stream down my face as I collaps to the floor and sob. That's all I can manage to do except for clutching the letter to my chest. I sob and sob and sob until I feel arms wrap around me. I glance up and see gold hair. I clutch onto Kaminari as I sob into his chest. He simply rubs my back as he holds me.

I don't know how long we sat there, only that it was a long time. When I finally manage to calm down I break my hug with Kaminari and wipe at me face, getting rid of all the snot and tears. I look at Kaminari with what I can only imagine, red puffy eyes as he looks at me worried, but also a bit confused.

''What happened?'' Kaminari asks softly, almost as if he's scared to speak up.

''B-Bakubro...He......He left me a letter.'' I whisper back, voice hoarse from crying.

''I see...What was it about?''

I silently hand him the letter. He takes it gently and reads it. I just watch him as different emotions show on his face as he comes to different parts of the letter. When he finishes he looks at me with tear brimmed eyes. His hands are shaking as he looks so sad and conflicted. I simply take the letter for him and place it on the ground beside me.

''Yeah...'' Is all I manage to mumble as I look back up at him.

''He...He was hurting so much....How..How didn't we notice?'' Kaminari stammers in disbelieve.

''Like he said...He hid it.......I....I’m gonna go.'' I mumble as I get up and walk out of the room.

I walk downstairs and out of the dorms, ignoring the worried questions form my classmates. I get onto the buss and ride it to the hospital. As I arrive I silently walk up to his room. I hesitate before walking into his room. I stare at the door for a while before slowly opening it. The room is empty except for Bakugou's bed and the machines he's hooked up to.

'His parents must have left.' I think as I walk over to the chair beside the bed. I sit down on it and take Bakugou's hand in mine. It's warmer than when he got here, but it's still cold compaired to how warm they usually are. I stare at his hand as my eyes tear up once again. With my free hand I wipe at my eyes.

''Wake up...Please...I need you.'' I sniffle as I feel more and more tears streaming down my face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I slowly open my eyes when I feel something shift. As I sit up I groan and rub at my burning eyes. I hear another groan and look at the source wide-eyed. Bakugou has a troubled look at his face as his head moves from side to side, mumbled words and groans leaving him. I jump up and push the alarm button that's attached to the bed.

''What's wrong?'' A nurse asks as she walks into the room.

''He's stirring and groaning.'' I explain with wide eyes as I look at her.

''I see, that must mean he's waking up.'' She states as she walks over and checks the machines and his IV drip.

''So it's a good sign?'' I ask with a hopeful glint in my eyes

''Yes.'' She chuckles.

As if on cue Bakugou's eyes shoot open and his whole body tenses up. The nurse gently removes his mask before rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders, trying to get him to relax. Slowly it works and his eyes go back to normal as he relaxes onto the bed. Slowly he moves his head to look at the nurse who's smiling gently at him.

''Who found me?'' He croaks out as he winches slightly.

''This young man did.'' The nurse says as she looks at me.

Bakugou turns his head to look at me. As soon as our eyes meet his widen in shock as mine tear up for the millionth time this day. I jump up and hug him tight, being mindful of all the wires, and sob into his shoulder. He just lays there, staring at the ceiling as he's frozen in his spot. I can hear the nurse excusing herself before she walks out.

''I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left you behind! Don't ever do this again! I'm sorry!'' I sob as I hold him tighter.

''Kirishima......You..You found me?'' Bakugou asks in a weak and shocked voice.

''Yes! We were worried and I went to check up on you. You were shaking and foam was coming out of your mouth. I was so scared...Sorry.'' I say, voice getting weaker the longer I talk, as I break the hug and look at his face.

''The letter.''

''I found it and read it. I love you too, so don't do this again. Please.''

''I...You love me?''

''Yes. Of course I do silly. Promise me that you won't do this again. Promise you'll come to me when you feel down. Please, I can't loose you.'' I beg him.

''....Promise.'' He whispers, the look of shock still not leaving his face.

''Good. This is going to be shitty timing, but.....Will you be my boyfriend?''

''Yes.'' He whispers, a glint I can't place in his eyes.

I smile and hug him again, nuzzling my face in his neck and placing a small kiss on it. Katsuki slowly wraps his arms around me and holds me close with the little strength his body holds right now. I instinctively hold him tighter when I notice just how little strength he has. Katsuki chuckles in respons.

''I love you, Katsuki.'' I whisper against his neck.

''I love you too, Eijirou.'' Katsuki whispers back.

27 notes · View notes

ahwait-no-yes · 4 years

Text

🍬 Candy Kingdom 🍭

First official chapter!!! Really hope you enjoy it!! Took some time but was super fun!!

-1-

Shuichi told everyone he was just going on a walk to calm down. He was upset about an argument that had broke out, and had wanted to just leave the situation for a little while.

After a few minutes of walking, he eventually came to the edge of a forest. He knew he shouldn’t go in. He told his parents that he’d be back in ten minutes. Though, right now he wanted nothing more then to relax and try not to overthink the situation.

—

“So,” His mom suddenly spoke up, looking at the two expectantly. “We’ve been meaning to discuss something with you two.” She said in a monotone voice. Junko looked up, seemingly uninterested. Shuichi did the same, but with a much more nervous expression.

“What did you want to talk about?..” He asked hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. He knew his parents absolutely hated it when he did that, but he couldn’t help it.

His parents glanced at each other before his father spoke up this time. “As we know, your older sister, Junko, is going to become queen soon.” He watched a small grin come to her face.

“And? Why’re we talking about what’s set in stone?” She asked, playing with her food. His mother politely ignored her. “What we were going to talk about is mostly centered around your brother, Shuichi.“

Saihara looked up at them and shrunk as far as he could into his chair. What could they possibly want to talk about? His parents looked at each other before his mother plastered on a smile. “Seeing as Junko is becoming a queen, you won’t be able to rule over any land, correct?” She asked, looking him dead in the eye.

“I-” he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “Yes, that is true..” Where was she going with this? “Well, seeing as we still want you to become a king, we have decided to arrange a marriage with the neighboring kingdom.”

Shuichi stared at them in shock for a few seconds before whispering, “What-?..” His mother quietly sighed before saying, “I’m sure you heard us the first time. Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Shuichi felt a surge of what he wish was confidence. In reality, it was just fear. What if they didn’t like him? What if they were rude? What if-

“Soo, does that mean Shuichi’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” Junko asked, twirling her hair. “Technically, they’re already engaged, seeing as we both agreed.”

What.

“Y-you didn’t-” “we didn’t tell you, seeing as it would be good for our kingdoms to unite.”

Now this made Shuichi upset. He felt like he had unwillingly signed his life away to someone he didn’t even know.

He decided now would be a good time to speak up.

“So, what you’re telling me is that I’m going to marry a stranger I didn’t even know existed?” He said abruptly. His parents stared at him for a moment before his mother cleared her throat. “It was bound to happen eventually, we just chose the kingdom next to us.” Her stare hardened. “Is there a problem, Shuichi?”

He wanted to back down, but decided not to. “Other then the fact I’m being forced to marry someone I don’t know, I suppose there isn’t.” He edged on. “Shuichi. Do not be disrespectful to your mother.” His father warned, placing down his fork.

“I’m not. I’m just saying my opinion.”

“In a disrespectful manner.” Junko chided, smiling innocently.

“I still don’t get why I have to marry someone I’ve never met! Don’t you already have enough people to boss around?!” He shouted, gripping at the hem of his shirt.

“Do not raise your voice at me!” His mother shouted back. Junko was watching and eating some popcorn. (where the hell did she get that?)

“I’m not trying to, you’d just never listen otherwise,” He muttered, pulling at the ends of his hair. “What was that?” His mother asked while glaring at him. “Nothing.” He replied, feeling tears gather in his eyes.

If I cry right now I might as well die on the spot.

“I’m gonna go on a walk. Is that fine?” He asked, his voice coming out sterner then planned. His mother sighed and looked away, “Yes, you can leave again,” she then muttered something along the lines of, “Seeing as you’re so upset with us when we just wanted to help.”

“That’s not what I-..” His voice trailed off. He just turned away and pulled at the hem of his shirt. They would do things like that when he was younger, and had started trying to avoid things like that happening. Usually by locking himself in his room for days on end, and only coming out at night.

Wasn’t the best option but he still did it.

He just muttered a quiet, “Okay,” and left.

—

Shuichi took a deep breath and looked around. He realized he must’ve spaced out while walking and got lost. He leaned against a tree and looked around, trying to see how far he managed to get.

Just how long has he been spaced out?

He felt panic settle in as he looked around again. There had to be something he recognized. He couldn’t have gone far. The trees are probably just covering things, so it just feels like he’s in the middle of a huge forest.

But that probably wasn’t true.

He sat down and took slow and deep breaths. It was best not to panic, Saihara was sure he’d be able to find his way back eventually.

Though he felt panicky again when he heard approaching footsteps.

Suddenly, a boy that looked around his age (or maybe younger? He was kind of short..) bounded up to him. “Hey! You seem kinda lost!” He announced, pointing at him while grinning.

“Uh- yeah, I guess I am-..” Shuichi muttered, where had the boy come from? He was sure he was alone a few seconds ago. He hadn’t heard any walking until now either.

“Weeeell! If you are I can totally help you!” He continued. “Ah, you can?-” Saihara asked, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Yep! All you need to do is be able to repay me!” He chirped, playing with his hair. “I see.. Is there anything I can do to help-?..

“Of courseeee! All you need to do is give me your life!” He beamed, lifting his index finger to his mouth a smirking slyly. “What-?! I can’t possibly-”

“Then again, I’m just lying!” He continued, his grin turning into a carefree smile. “But maybe that’s a lie!” He giggled, his face darkening.

“I-..” His voice trailed off. This boy was.. something else, that was for sure. He wasn’t sure why he was lying so much, (one of those statements had to be a lie.) but then again, he might just be lying to mess with him. Even though Saihara had just met him, he seemed like the kind of person to do that.

“Is- there anything else I can do?..” He asked hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. “Hmm.. Keep me entertained while I show you the way out! If you fail, I kill you! If not, I’ll still kill you, but no torture!” He chirped innocently, fluttering his eyelashes as if he was trying to convince him.

“That doesn’t sound fair at all-!” Saihara muttered, pulling at the ends of his hair and covering his mouth with it. The purple haired boy groaned dramatically and yelled, “Fineee! If you entertain me, you live. Sound fair Mr. Emo?"

"I would prefer not to die, but I have a feeling that it won’t be "fair” to you.“ He commented, quickly glancing at him to see what he looked like.

… How does his hair defy gravity? How’s that even possible?

"You can take a picture if you wanna keep staring Mr. Emo.” He stated, looking at his nails. “Ah-! I wasn’t trying to-!” He boy interrupted him again. “Since you were to busy staring at me, I said I agreed. So lets go, alright?” He grinned, lifting his finger to his mouth again.

“Can I at least know your name?” Saihara asked exasperatedly, finally making eye contact. The boy stared back, unblinking. Shuichi nervously shifted in place. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that.

“My name’s Kokichi Ouma. What’s yours?”

A smile.

“Shuichi Saihara.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

everyone let us appreciate dream anon for this work of art 🤍 I really wanted to do a doodle for it too!

1 | 2 | 3

Read it on AO3 too!

#oumasai #saiouma #ouma kokichi #saihara shuichi #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #kokichi #ouma #shuichi #shuuichi #saihara #Candy Kingdom #dream anon #danganronpa #im not meant to like junko but like #i dont even know the way she reacted made me laugh #saihara's family sucks tho smh #not like i cant relate tho #*coughs in remembering my mum being okay w marrying me off to her friends son*#ok well it wasnt like that but she still tried convincing me to give it a chance #mother its 2020 pls #anyway anyway #wanna make it clear i love saihara here okay #and i laughed a little when he realised he spaced out #bc i did the exact same thing #at the same time #and didnt realise till ouma appeared #oh man ive been thinking abt a lot of thigns regarding this au now #but as for my doodle i thought about how cherry blossom trees are pink and so is candyfloss #TUMBLR CUT OFF OVER HALF MY RAMBLE TAGS IM MAD NOW TCH

55 notes · View notes

soulmate-game · 4 years

Note

Awesome, cool (on RE: Marivel). Caaaan we get... uh, Soulmate Game version of marvel/ml crossover? Marinette x Peter? Or just Marinette meeting Peter via Dr. Strange in your Lady Strange AU (post-endgame maybe??). Take your pick (or do both?) and thank you if you do write them!!

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Yes.

This is a crossover between my Lady Strange AU and my Soulmate-Game AU, but since this is a different pairing it receives a different bond. I hope you like it!

—*—*—*—*—*

“I think somebody drew on me in my sleep,” was the first thing he told his Aunt and Uncle, who just blinked at him for a long moment with their toothbrushes half in their mouths. Peter was supposed to be getting ready for school in his own room, but instead, well.

His guardians’ eyes landed on the two childish, but extremely clean doodles on the top of Peter’s shoulders. They were ladybugs, one in red ink and the other blue. Only the outline was colored at all.

The little boy was tearing up.

“I don’t know how they e-ended up here. Why would s-somebody draw on me? It’s mean. Is this the boogeyman? Does…”

He was interrupted by May and Ben’s laughter, shrinking into himself as the adults tried to get ahold of themselves. Ben was the first to sober up, sinking to his knees and carefully laying a gentle hand on Peter’s naked arm, making sure not to come close to the new mark on his shoulder. The poor boy had stopped putting on a shirt altogether in favor of worrying over the doodles.

“No, no,” Ben soothed, running his other hand through Peter’s cinnamon hair. “No boogeyman. This is a good thing, Petey.”

He sniffled, looking up at his father figure warily, a hopeful spark in his eye. “It is?”

“Yeah. Do you remember what we told you about soul marks?” He asked his nephew, who was starting to calm down. The boy nodded, pushing his thick glasses back up his nose from where they had started to slip.

“Almost everyone has one,” he started to recite, furrowing his brows to try and remember what he had been told.

“And they can come in hundreds of different ways,” May filled in, kneeling beside her husband. “Some people have a picture or a name on them to represent their Destined. Some people are colorblind, or missing just one color until they meet their other half.”

“Some people can switch bodies or hear a song in their head that tells them how their soulmate is feeling,” Ben agreed. “There are tons of Bonds. Not everyone has a physical mark. But you,” he nodded to the ladybugs on his nephew’s shoulders. “You do.”

Peter started panicking again. “Oh no, I have two soulmates? What am I gonna do? What if they don’t like me, how can I love two people, I—“

“Relax, honey,” May rustled Peter’s hair with a soft smile. “I don’t think you have two, I think your mark is more complicated than that. Look, the ladybugs are exactly the same except for the color. The mark will probably do something exciting later, when you meet them.”

“Something exciting?” Peter parroted, making Ben chuckle.

“Yeah, but for now they are just cute pictures. Pictures which better be covered up by a shirt soon, or you’ll be late to school bud.”

“Ack!” He had forgotten he was still shirtless. “Sorry Uncle Ben!” Peter Benjamin Parker dashed back to his room as fast as his seven-year-old legs would carry him.

—*—*—*—*—*

Seven years later.

Marinette hummed, analyzing her reflection. Her halter top looked nice, a new design of hers. Tikki hovered near her, similarly happy with the clothing. And then the Kwami squeaked in dismay when her holder reached for foundation.

“Woah woah woah, what are you doing Marinette?!” The little god asked, tempted to take the makeup away. “The shirt makes your soul marks stand out so beautifully! I’m not a huge fan of spiders, but yours are so cute!”

The pigtailed girl blushed bright red, looking into the mirror to see both of the little doodles on her shoulders at the same time. They really were adorable, one cartoony spider on the top of each shoulder, one red and one blue. She didn’t wear the crop top to show them off though. She wore it because she needed to feel confident, and her usual blouses weren’t cutting it. She wanted to feel powerful, free, anything to escape the feeling of water droplets on her skin and the sight of people pinned by buildings, drowning. Blue skin, glassy eyes—

Marinette’s shook her head, taking a deep breath. The halter top she was wearing was a carefully, artistically dyed swirl of baby blue and baby pink. Strategic gathers in the cloth swirled the two colors around one another, bringing them to a small pinpoint of pale purple at the very point where the cloth had first been pinched and curled.

It was whimsical, it was childish and mature all at once. It was what Hope felt like to Marinette. The very thing she needed to try and heal from the whole Syren disaster a few weeks earlier.

“I like them too,” Marinette finally responded to her Kwami, running her fingers over the blue spider, the one on her right shoulder. It had completely vanished when she got home after the Syren attack, proving her father right from when he had told her all those years ago that her Bond was likely more than just a few doodles. “But only my parents know about them. I know the Miraculous suits are pretty much indestructible, but I don’t want to take any chances with this crazy world. If my shoulders ever get exposed while I’m Ladybug, I don’t want anyone to be able to connect that to Marinette,” she explained, slowly and regretfully spreading foundation over both marks and spritzing setting spray over it so that the makeup wouldn’t move anytime soon.

She knew why her blue spider had temporarily vanished. She had thought maybe she had just been imagining it before, when she would occasionally be in the middle of an anxiety attack and think that her blue spider was a little paler than usual. Or on the few occasions when she was going days without sleep, or overextending herself for her friends and her red spider would look a little dull.

She wondered what that meant for the person on the other end of their connection.

—*—*—*—*—*

And then she found out. She was fifteen, and it was about five in the morning. Marinette jolted out of bed, feeling a searing heat on her right shoulder. Throwing her shirt off, she saw it— her red spider was glowing. She felt herself trembling, but she didn’t know why. Tears were raining down her face, but she wasn’t sad. Her hands felt oddly wet and sticky, but they were completely clean.

The teenager shared a long, bewildered look with Tikki before carefully letting her fingers brush over the red spider. And she understood.

Anger. Guilt. He’s blaming himself. He’s dead. My fault. My fault. Blood. Is she feeling this? I’m making her feel this. Stupid. Worthless. Mistake. Mistake.

Marinette pried her hand away from the mark, gasping from the influx of emotions. She didn’t know details, probably to protect the identity of the person on the other end of the Bond, but she got the gist of it. The longer she had stayed on the connection, the more lucid thoughts she got straight from the boy himself. None of it had been promising.

She was able to surmise this; someone close to him died, or was dying. Her hands probably felt sticky because of the literal blood on his. Oh Kwami, he probably saw them die right in front of him. Probably held them.

And there was no Cure to reverse it for him.

But the most important part was that he was blaming himself for it, and Marinette couldn’t stand it. She ground her teeth, and touched the mark again with full intention of making sure he knew it wasn’t his fault. That he wasn’t worthless, and that she wasn’t mad at him for this.

But nothing happened. She tried touching the blue spider, but nothing happened. She tried meditating, hoping they had a mental connection—nothing. Absolutely. Nothing.

The heat was gone from her shoulder, the connection over.

Marinette raged at her inability to help a boy she never met.

—*—*—*—*—*

Four months later, she knew the situation was about to be reversed. She stared down at the old man in front of her, frail and weak but forcing himself to stand and hold the heavy box in the air in front of him. The weight made his twig-thin arms shake, and the pigtailed girl quickly snatched the item before it or the man holding it dropped.

“Master,” she whispered, her eyes frantically searching his. “Don’t. The magic, Tikki’s magic, can help. I’ve been practicing. Don’t—“

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Sabine Cheng and biological daughter of Steven Strange,” the old man started, making Marinette snap her mouth shut with the force of his words. She didn’t know how he found out about her biological father, but didn’t bother asking. It wasn’t important, and he had too many possible ways of finding out through magic. No, his words right now were the only things she found worth focusing on in that moment. “I, Wang Fu, find myself too old to carry on my duties as Grand Guardian. But you are the best student I could have ever asked for. A True Ladybug with a soul of creation, a disciplined mind, and an open heart. I name you as my heir, and as the new Grand Guardian. Do you accept the transference of my title?”

Marinette didn’t want to. The wise eyes boring back into hers said that he knew, that he would understand if she refused. But Marinette also knew that refusing would not grant her the happy ending she wanted from this situation, only regret. His eyes said that he knew that, too.

“I accept,” she didn’t know how she was able to croak that out, but she managed somehow. “Wang Fu, I will gladly take on the title of Lady Strange, the new Grand Guardian. I vow to protect as you have protected, to guard the innocent and punish those who try to upset balance with the Miraculous. To keep the Universe as peaceful as possible with my power.”

“Then let my wisdom become yours,” Fu finished the sacred speech, closing his eyes as a bright green mist was born from his feet. It grew, sliding up his body until it exited his head in a giant luminous cloud like a swarm of fireflies on a misty night. Marinette refused to close her eyes, stubbornly keeping her gaze on Master Fu as the magical green fog covered her own body and sank into her skin. The knowledge of the Guardian’s language and traditions appeared in her mind, along with the rest of Fu’s wisdom and experience with the Miraculous.

“Young lady? Are you alright, you’re crying.”

Marinette took a deep breath, her eyes still locked onto the brown orbs that no longer recognized her. Slowly, she put the miracle box down on his bedside table.

“Yes, I’m fine. How do you feel?”

The old man wobbled, and the young girl had to catch him before he fell. “Let’s get you into bed,” she decided for him, getting a nod and a grateful smile in return. It was after he was in his bed and his eyes were starting to droop that he spoke again, this time in Mandarin.

Which Marinette now spoke, like a final gift from him to her.

“Are you my granddaughter?”

Marinette bit her lip, placing a gentle hand on Fu’s shoulder before responding in the same language;

“That’s right.”

She didn’t need a heart monitor to know when his pulse stopped. She could feel the magic of life drain from him, the Creation that made him who he was disappearing from his form. She dropped, her legs no longer able to support her weight, and sobbed into his comforter.

It happened then, she could feel a phantom hand on her right shoulder. Trying to provide comfort but not able to speak.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I want you here. But thank you. For everything. Thank you.

She didn’t know if she was trying to send those thoughts to Fu or to the boy trying to help her despite never having met her.

—*—*—*—*—*

This is part 1, because Tumblr doesn’t allow me to post the whole thing. Stupid word limits >:[ part 2 right here

#marinette x peter parker #mlb x marvel #soulmate au #spiderbug #bio dad stephen strange

477 notes · View notes

aquinoa · 4 years

Text

My Muse | ft. Tsukishima Kei

-`,dedicated to @hinaaspanda for her belated birthday! ⹁՛-

muse

/myo͞oz/; noun

(in Greek and Roman mythology) each of nine goddesses, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the arts and sciences.

a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.

something Tsukishima thought he’d never find, until you came along.

pairing: Art Student!Tsukishima x Art Student!Reader (female)

genre: Art School!AU, fluff, angst if you squint

word count: 6345

warning: swearing, drinking, like one instance of hinting at the devil’s tango

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for your class' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school.

"Could you explain your reasoning for that type of brushstroke?"

"The message is intriguing, but I'm not so sure about the techniques you used for the foreground portray what you intended."

"The colour scheme seems random." It's been over a month into the semester, but you could never get used to being in the hot seat and facing the criticisms of your peers.

"It looks like a lame Cy Twombly imitation to me. Did you do this in, what— five minutes?" This comment from a certain classmate particularly bothered you. You turned to glare at the culprit.

"Kei Tsukishima! Constructive criticism only, please." The art professor gasped. "How about you go next for your critique?" Tsukishima sighed and shifted his easel, revealing to the class his assignment.

As always, his canvas contained a masterpiece. His technical skills were insanely advanced and the whole class knew it; they could not keep quiet it about it during his crit. His own explanation for it, however, was lacklustre. Most of his responses to comments were the likes of "I don't know," or "I just felt like it." To you, that might've been what aggravated you about Tsukishima the most—he was so gifted, but he treated his pieces as if they were mere doodles. If only you had even a percentage of his technical skills.

You ruminated in your thoughts, as other students continued with their critiques until class ended. In the midst of the class packing up and leaving the studio, your eyes glanced over to Tsukishima a couple of seats down. His eyes eventually meet yours as he passed by, noticing how irritated you still were.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"I'll have you know that painting took a long time to make." You began. "What you said during my crit stung a bit."

"It's called a critique, pipsqueak. What else do you want?" He rolled his eyes, turning his back to you and headed toward the exit.

"I'm not a pipsqueak!" You shrilled, jolting up from your seat. You took a deep breath. "At least be more considerate in my critique. Like—give me a specific thing to improve on?" The boy paused just before the doorway, his back still to you.

"Y/N, was it?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Work on your hatching or something. Gives it more depth." He muttered before walking out. You glanced back at your piece for a second before tucking it away in your case and exiting the studio.

—&

Your body shivered from the evening breeze as you walked back to your apartment. As you rummaged for your keys in front of your door, a cheery voice greeted you from the next door down.

"Oi, Y/N!"

"Yamaguchi!" You beamed. Yamaguchi, your neighbour, was always a ray of sunshine. "How's your essay coming along?"

"Actually, I just submitted it earlier today! So, fingers crossed for that coveted C+!" The boy chuckled before he glanced at your discouraged look and raised a brow. "What happened to you? Rough day?" You nodded, letting out a sigh.

"We had group crits today in studio class. I was able to respond to the comments, but it was obvious what they thought about my work: my technique isn't good enough. God, there was this one particular guy in my class who was just so— so insensitive about it!"

"H-hey, don't mind the haters!" Yamaguchi butted in to calm you down. "He's probably just jealous of you." You raised a brow.

"Jealous of what? It just felt like he was punching down." You looked down, letting out a sigh. "I put a lot of thought into this piece and I thought it would show."

"You're talking about that piece you worked on last week right?" You nodded, Yamaguchi's mouth gaping open. "Wait— that one is so good! I've seen art galleries where they feature a white canvas with a singular black line painted! If those can end up in galleries, you're absolutely fine!" You chuckled, before he continued. "The message behind the art piece is just as important as the piece itself, if not more. And Y/N, you put a lot of thought to the message behind each of your pieces, which is awesome! Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Thanks, Yamaguchi." You grinned. "I honestly am beyond lucky to have ended up with you as a neighbour."

"Hey, I feel like I'm the lucky one having such a talented artist as a neighbour!" The boy grinned back before bidding you goodbye. You waved back and stepped inside your apartment.

—&

"Alright, folks. Now that we're a couple of months into the semester, it's about time to talk about your final term project." The studio professor began explaining the logistics and requirements of the final project. It was essentially another painting but with higher stakes. "Keep in mind: while the technique is absolutely important, your projects also need depth and meaning. Otherwise, you are going to have quite a rough critique. Let me tell you, the other professors can be ruthless!" The professor chuckled. "Now, on with the class." You groaned. The only thing worse than being criticized on the spot by your class was getting criticized on the spot by a group of professors—actual artists. If you were gonna ace the final project, you were gonna have to grind hard.

In the middle of the period, you placed your brush on your easel to take a quick break. You took a deep breath and rolled back your shoulders before letting your eyes wandered around the class—from the wide window pane wall on your left as it welcomed the sunlight throughout the studio, to your classmates on your right as they either quietly worked on their next pieces or chatted amongst each other. Your eyes eventually fall on Tsukishima, a couple of seats from you, as he's quietly slouched over his canvas with a Filbert brush in hand.

"He's probably just jealous of you." These particular words from Yamaguchi left you baffled even after a few days since that interaction. Why would Tsukishima—that gifted asshole—be jealous of you? What could you have for him to be jealous of? Compared to his skills? If anything, you should feel jealous of h—

That was not a thought you wanted to finish. You must've stared at Tsukishima for too long, since his attention has suddenly shifted to you, with a puzzled look.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I—" You stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. "I...was just wondering if you could...share more brush technique tips...?" You grinned feigningly. The boy glanced over at your canvas then back at you.

"Figures. Looks like you really need it." He snickered, causing you to scoff.

"God, you are hard to talk to."

"Oi, I didn't say no." He rebutted. "I can't be bothered by explaining it to you, though. Since you're already slacking off anyway, just watch me." He adjusted his glasses before focusing back on his own canvas. You rolled your eyes at the ego of this guy, but was puzzled at his odd offer. You kept your eyes on his brush and took mental notes as he continued painting. You were fascinated by the advanced brush techniques he applied as if it was child's play. After watching his brush for a while, your eyes eventually wandered over to his hand. Then to his broad shoulders. Then to the pale nape of his neck. Then to his short, ruffled, blonde hair. Then to the golden-brown eyes behind his glasses, a little sorry that they a lack a glint to them.

"Tsukishima! Do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" The professor asked as she walked up to his easel. It was more than enough to snap you out of your gaze. You darted your head back to your own easel and continued to work away at your canvas, with your flustered confusion blocking out Tsukishima's conversation with the professor. Why did he leave you in such a daze just now?

When the clock signaled the end of class, the class began to pack up. As you put your paint away, you glanced over at Tsukishima once more as he quickly packed up his supplies. This time, he looked more annoyed than usual.

"Oi, Tsukishima." You called to him. "What did the professor talk to you about?"

"None of your business." He retorted without batting an eye as he grabbed his bag and walked out of the studio without another word. Quite rude, but he seemed in a bad mood, so you disregarded it. You grabbed your things and left the studio to continue with the rest of your day.

—&

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You jolted awake from the knock on your door. You reached for your phone to check the time—it was noon. It was only mere hours ago when you finished pulling an all-nighter to work on an assignment because your inspiration apparently likes to strike at 3am. The knocking continued. You groaned as you sat up and grudgingly made your way over to the front door. You opened the door and peeked out to find a tall, familiar figure standing off to your left.

"Tsukishima?!" For the last few classes, your interactions with Tsukishima have been scarce. He'd somehow manage to insert an insult whenever you'd ask him a question. There were also moments in class where you swore you felt a glance coming from his direction, but when you turned your head to him, he was occupied with his canvas. Seeing him now at your doorstep was a surreal experience.

"Y/N?" He looked at you quizzically. "You live here? Whatever. What do you want?"

"What do you mean "What do you want?"," You mocked sluggishly. "You knocked on my door— what do you want?"

"Wait, you thought I knocked on your door? Dumbass." He snickered. You rolled your eyes and hit his arm.

"I'm too tired for this, Kei." You retorted, leaning against the door frame. "Who are you here to see, then?"

"I'm here to see a friend." He pointed over to Yamaguchi's door and—as if on cue—his door opened and a frantic Yamaguchi stepped out.

"S-sorry, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi shrilled. "My readings took longer than I expected!" He caught sight of you and waved. "Oh! Hi Y/N! I see you've met Tsukki…shima." He chuckled softly.

"Hey Yamaguchi!" You waved back. "Wait, you call him Tsu—that's so cute! I wanna call him that too!" Tsukishima furiously shook his head.

"No way I'm letting anyone else call me Tsukki. I only make an exception for Yamaguchi." He sighed, turning to Yamaguchi. "She's in my studio art class."

"Unfortunately." You muttered under your breath.

"Oi, I heard that." Tsukishima glared.

"Hey Yamaguchi, how do you know Tsukki?" You asked, teasingly emphasizing the latter name. Yamaguchi chuckled.

"Oh, I've been friends with Tsukki since we were young!"

"That's insane. You're way too nice to be hanging around Tsukki."

"Y/N, I will tell Yamaguchi you thought I was knocking on your door, if you don't stop calling me Tsukki." Tsukishima threatened.

"You just did though." You furrowed your brows.

"Wait Y/N, did you just wake up?" Yamaguchi asked.

"Yeah, Tsukki woke me up." You pouted.

"Serves you right, pipsqueak." Tsukishima scoffed.

"Oi, I'm no pipsqueak! It's not my fault you tower over everyone, you bean pole."

"I'd rather be a bean pole—if it means not being caught in public with those on." He pointed down at your panda slippers. You gasped theatrically.

"How dare you insult my precious pandas?"

"Alright, you two!" Yamaguchi finally chimed in. "I get it. You two fight like a married couple. Horribly, I might add." He chuckled, causing both you and Tsukishima to scoff. "Anyways Tsukki, let's get going and let Y/N get some rest." Yamaguchi bid you goodbye, while Tsukishima gave you one last glance before he turned around and followed the other. "Seriously, Tsukki. Just use the doorbell next time!" You chuckled, hearing your neighbour lecture the bean pole as they walked away.

When you stepped back into your apartment, you rubbed the nape of your neck. You've almost forgotten why you've antagonized Tsukishima so much. Aside from the rocky start and the constant teasing, he's never been inherently bad to you. It's almost as if he's nice to you in his own, subtle way.

Nah. It must've been the sleep deprivation talking. You let out another yawn and went back to get some more shut-eye.

—&

The deadline for the studio class' term project was approaching. For the past couple of weeks, you've often found yourself spending late evenings painting away alone in the studio after class. The warm, quiet atmosphere of the studio with golden rays shining through the window pane as the sun set was where you've lately felt the most motivated. One particular evening in the studio, you were stuck on how to execute a certain portion of your painting's foreground. If you were going to impress the professors during your term project critique, you had to go above and beyond with your technique, considering your track record of your mediocre group critiques. You leaned your head back along with a sigh. You tapped the handle of your paintbrush on your temple, wishing for an idea.

"Y/N?" Startled, you turned to the familiar, baritone voice stood by the studio doorway.

"Tsukishima? H-how long have you been there?"

"Relax, I'm just here to pick up some paint that I forgot." You sighed and turned back to your canvas. He walked over to the supply shelves behind you to grab a few tubes of paint, placing them in his bag, before turning to you. After a while, you couldn't help but feel irked by the boy looking over your shoulder from behind.

"So—" You decided to break the silence. "It's still a work in progress, but what do you think of it?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" He snickered, causing you to groan. At this point, you've grown desensitized of his teasing.

"I'm serious. I want to do well for the term project. I'm just stuck on how to paint this part of the foreground." You motioned to the portion of the canvas before the boy stepped closer to take another look at your painting.

"Give me your brush." You reached out your brush to him without batting an eye, expecting him to take it. To your surprise, you instead felt his hand firmly gripping onto yours.

"Ts-Tsukishima?" You froze, bewitched by his sudden touch. His hand guided you and the brush throughout the canvas, using colour combinations and brush strokes foreign to you, but seemingly simple to him. Your eyes couldn't help but focus on his hand that was clung onto yours. You held your breath. At that moment, it felt like time stood still. When he finished, he gently released your hand. The warmth of his touch lingered on your hand—and on your mind—for a bit longer. He briefly explained the techniques he applied, when he noticed your still flustered reaction.

"Huh— oi, don't get the wrong idea. It was the only way I could've done it without you getting in trouble for cheating or something." He rebutted, seemingly unfazed by his actions. "Besides, you probably wouldn't have been able to do it if I just explained it to you."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes, any flustered feelings you felt faded away. You looked back at the portion of your canvas just painted. As usual, Tsukishima's methods were impressive and helpful. "Thanks." You uttered under your breath, before continuing to work. He nodded before looking out the window.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't you head home?" He asked as he picked up his bag, about to leave.

"It’s fine," You shook your head, keeping your eyes on your canvas. "I've gone home later than this in the past. I have to work on this." The boy sighed and paused before reaching for your portfolio case.

"I didn't know you were this stubborn too." He dangled your portfolio case and made his way out the studio. "It's time to call it a day if you want this back." You turned to him as he slung your portfolio case over his shoulder with a sly smirk before stepping out the studio. You groaned.

"Oi! Come back here!" You shoved your supplies into your bag, slipped off your apron and grabbed your canvas before rushing out the studio to catch up to him as he kept his leisurely pace. Panting, you caught up to him and snatched your portfolio case back. "What the hell, Tsukishima?" He snickered.

"I'm heading over to Yamaguchi's place anyway, so I wasn't actually going to run away with it."

"You better not have. Wait— why are you headed to Yamaguchi's so late?"

"I'm staying over. My brother's bringing his girlfriend over to our house tonight, so you already know what's bound to happen." He shuddered. "Frankly, I don't want to hear any of that shit." You chuckled.

—&

A serene silence fell upon the two. Before you knew it, you found yourself walking back to the apartment complex together. As you walked, you leaned your head back and took a breath of the evening breeze. You turned your head to Tsukishima, who's engrossed himself in his music, a bit of which you could almost hear from his headphones. You felt your cheeks warm up. Walking beside him right now made you reminisce of the countless romantic scenes you've read where the boy walks the girl home. You shook your head. No, this wasn't one of those tales.

"Why are you looking at me this time?" Tsukishima raised a brow at you, slinging his headphones around his neck. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"Oh—" You scratched your head. "I swear it's just a coincidence. Maybe you're just looking at me all the time." He rolled his eyes before another silence fell upon the two. A thought suddenly crossed your mind. "I was just wondering, remember when you stormed off after the professor talked to you?"

"Hm."

"What happened? Did she say something bad?" The boy suddenly grimaced. Your curiosity grew, but regretted asking him. He let out a sigh.

"She's concerned about how I'll do in the final term project. That my track record of 'shallow responses' during my crits indicate the kind of work I'll bring to the final critique. And that I didn't feel 'inspired' enough." He shrugged. "As long as I paint something impressive to my audience, I should do fine."

It dawned on you that he has the exact opposite dilemma as you. While you lacked the technique, yet strived in the depth of your pieces, he had insanely advanced skills, but struggled to find drive.

"Don't you want to do more than 'fine', though?" You began. "I mean—isn't that the point of art? To express that of which your muse—let's say—has inspired you?"

"My muse?" Tsukishima raised a brow.

"Yeah, your muse! Something—or someone—that is a source of inspiration for you." He paused, gazing at you before he tsked.

"Odd."

"What do you mean 'odd'?" You furrowed you brows, mocking his tone. "You must have a muse. Something you like that makes you go 'I want to paint something based on that'?" He shook his head. "I don't buy it. Tell me, Kei. You like music, right? Doesn't it make you feel things and envision things when you listen to it?"

"I guess, but it doesn't make me want to paint it."

"Scratch that, then. How about, I'll give you an example of a muse of mine:" You pointed upward. "that."

"Huh—" He looked up as well. "The sky?" You nodded.

"I love the sky. It gives you something different everyday. From the glint of the stars out tonight, the funny shapes you make out from clouds, to the gorgeous colours that sunsets reveal—which is a personal favourite." You sighed in glee.

"Anyone can paint a sunset, though." He rebutted. "I just don't see how the sky would impress the professors. Wouldn't it make you a more worthwhile artist to show off the most challenging techniques you can pull off to succeed?" You gritted your teeth.

"It's not about what you paint—it's why you're painting it!" Your plead echoed around both of you. This took Tsukishima aback. You lowered your head, your heart sinking. It was as if every small, condescending remark he's said has piled up and overwhelmed you. "Not everyone is as gifted as you, Tsukishima." You whimpered softly. "I've always admired your talent." Silence fell once more.

"Y/N, I—"

"You know I have been practicing the things you've taught me. I know I'm not the best at them, but at least I'm improving. At least I'm trying." There was a shakiness growing in your voice. "I don't know if I'm upset at you or at myself, but—" As you two approached the apartment complex, you turned to the boy one last time with a pained look in your eyes. "but can't you be even the tiniest bit considerate of me?" You turned your back to him and marched back into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

Tsukishima lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and cursed under his breath as Yamaguchi let him inside as well.

—&

For the next couple of weeks, you and Tsukishima ceased talking to each other, not even looking at each other's way. It perplexed you why you've been as affected by him as you were that night. Maybe it was your confusion from how he constantly teetered between belittling you and helping you. Maybe it was your disappointment that you've invested yourself to him but he never reciprocated in the end, but never again. You've convinced yourself that he was nothing more but a mere classmate from studio class—always has been and always will be.

The end of the term was nearly approaching and the stress continued to pile up. You've been dedicating much more time into perfecting your art pieces for the final project. One particular weekend, cooped up in your apartment while trying to finish up your painting, you hit upon some good ol' artist block. You scratched your head as you tried to find inspiration. You peeked out your window. Nothing but gray clouds today. You turned back to your canvas, frustrated at how you feel you're so close to finishing, yet so far. Eyeing the details, you noticed the particular spot that Tsukishima added that evening in the studio. Your flustered feelings began to creep back into your mind.

Nope.

You ruffled your hair furiously before wailing out a long, exasperated scream for what felt like forever. Once you calmed down, you leaned back onto your seat. Oddly enough, screaming helped you clear your thoughts and frustrations. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

The silence was broken by a sudden, frantic knocking on your door. You walked over and opened the door to find a concerned Yamaguchi.

"Y/N! I heard screaming. A-are you okay?" He asked frantically.

"Yamaguchi! I'm fine, sorry about that." You laughed nervously as you rubbed the nape of your neck. "I was just blowing off steam from the stress of school, I guess." Your neighbour sighed in relief.

"Man, Y/N. You scared me!" He complained. "It's getting that tense, huh?" You nodded. He took notice of your messy hair and your weary demeanor. "You sure look like you need a break. " He chuckled.

"Gee thanks, Yamaguchi."

"Oh!" His eyes suddenly brightened up before placing a hand on your shoulder. "Come over and have a drink or two! It's the weekend, you should let loose!" A drink was probably what you needed right now, anyway.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty nice." You conceded. Yamaguchi beamed in response. You closed your door and followed your neighbour into his unit.

"Make yourself at home." Yamaguchi made his way to the fridge. "I'll grab drinks. Any preferences?"

"The hardest ones you've got." You both laughed.

"Gotcha." You sat down on the couch and leaned back. You glanced around. You spot a familiar set of brushes and paints—the ones from the studio. You looked around once more until you spotted him sat by the balcony.

"Tsukishima?" You caught the blonde boy in the middle of ogling at you, seemingly somewhat buzzed already. His eyes widened the moment your eyes met, and quickly looked away. He placed his headphones back on and took another swig from his bottle.

"Sorry, Y/N." Yamaguchi chimed in as he headed towards you with two red cups. "I figured if I mentioned Tsukki was staying over tonight, you'd refuse to come over." You shook your head, smiling reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Yamaguchi. He didn't hurt me or anything." You sighed. "I overreacted a bit too." He handed you a cup and sat down beside you.

"Tsukki told me what happened. He regretted being so brash with you."

"He did?" Yamaguchi nodded, glancing over at Tsukishima.

"You want to know how he's gotten so good at painting?"

"Sure."

"The thing his professor told him—that he lacks inspiration in his work—it's not unfounded. It's something he's struggled with long before he started art school. He figured that if he explored more techniques—that if he got better—he'll eventually find something to inspire him. He's gotten so talented, but he rarely feels fulfilled from his work. It's made him feel like an inadequate artist, which is why he's resorted to teasing and such."

"Oh." You frowned. "I never thought of it like that."

"Don't worry! I believe he's recently found that source of inspiration. You should see the painting he's done for your term project!" Yamaguchi leaned back on the couch. "Tsukki's never been the best at being positive or open, so you'll have to forgive him. The teasing get annoying, surely, but he means well. He's teased me since we were kids, but I've come to realize that that's how he shows he's invested in someone."

"No way—I don't buy it."

"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true! You'll see." He grinned. "I'm not sure if you'll see Super Drunk Tsukishima tonight, but he can be quite sentimental." He chuckled.

"Now that would be a sight to see." You snickered. "What kind of drunk are you, Yamaguchi?"

"There's only one way to find out, right?" He snickered as you both clinked your cups and guzzled down your drinks.

A few drinks later, it didn't take long to find yourself drunk and beside a passed-out, mumbling Yamaguchi on the couch. Zoned out, you let out a couple of hiccups. You suddenly caught a moving figure from the corner of your eye. You sluggishly turned your head to find Tsukishima stumbling to grab another bottle from the fridge. You sneered loudly.

"Tsssukki—can I call you Tsukki? I'm gonna call you Tsukki—someone should cut you off."

"Cut me off? I paced myself—" The boy rebutted, flimsily pointing at you. He hiccuped. "unlike you. Take a look at yourself, Y/N. And look what you did to Yamagusshi!"

"Pffft. He did that to himself." You cackled. He groaned before opening his bottle and shuffling back, sitting down on the balcony floor. After a second, you decided to follow him out and plop down beside him. "Tsukki, I'm sorryyy—" You turned to him and pouted. "I yelled at'cha that one time. I didn't know y'were sad tooo." Taken aback, the boy furrowed his brows, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who upset you." He pointed the neck of the bottle to himself, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I'm the asshole here." Your drunk ass couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Asshole! You said 'asshole'!" You continued to cackle, leaning back too much as you began to lose balance. Before you knew it, Tsukishima reached out, catching you with one hand grasped onto your wrist and his other hand wrapped around your waist.

"Oi, be careful." He gently pulled you back upward as you continued to giggle to yourself, still seemingly unaware of his actions. You finally realized what just occurred the moment you felt his hand pull away from your waist. Flustered, you looked away for a moment and grumbled.

"You sure are an asshhole, Kei." You muttered, trying hard not to slur your words. "Y'know—you i-insult me all the ti—"

"I know, and I'm sorr—"

"But y-you also do these things that make m-my heart skip a beat—"

"Y/N—" He stammered.

"A-and I get all confused about you, and I never know what to feel—"

"Y/N."

"I mean—w-why me? Why aren't you like this to other people?"

"Because I don't care about other people." Tsukishima's words finally cut you off. You gazed at him as the moonlight lit up his flustered face. You felt his grip on your wrist slide down as he gently held your hand. He locked his eyes onto yours. You hoped your flushed cheeks from the alcohol were enough to hide your blushing as he slowly leaned his face closer.

THUD!

You both turned your head back into the main room to find Yamaguchi on the foot of the couch.

"Tsukki..." He groaned. "Bathroom...puke...n-now..." Tsukishima sighed. He looked at you once more before he stammered.

"I should go help him..." You nodded, still flustered. He released your hand as he rose to his feet and clumsily headed over to Yamaguchi to help him. You gently hit your cheeks with the palms of your hands. You figured those two would be occupied for a while, so you decided to trudge back to your apartment without bidding them goodbye. You felt as if your emotions were at their limit, anyway. It was going to be one hell of a hangover the next day.

—&

You couldn't remember a lot from that night at Yamaguchi's place, but the feeling of Tsukishima's hand grasped onto yours still lingered on your mind. You weren't sure if you were imagining it or not—or if you just wanted it to happen. None of that mattered right now; there wasn't much time left before the end of the semester. For the remainder of the time, you focused solely on schoolwork, determined on creating the best final product for your studio class' final term project to your ability. You knew you still had ways to go, but you've surely improved your technique. You were grateful to Tsukishima, but you didn't have the time to entertain anymore confusion from your emotions.

"How could I have forgotten the varnish?" You grumbled as you paced your way to the studio one day, picking up some supplies. Right before entering, you took notice of the figures already in the studio: Tsukishima in front of a small panel of art professors. You gasped and hid behind the door. His critique for the term project must've been today. You peeked your head out the door to take a closer look inside.

Your eyes couldn't help but focus on Tsukishima, surprised by how much more devotedly he seems answering the professors' comments; a huge contrast compared to his previous demeanor during previous crits in class. You smiled. It was admirable seeing him like that. You glanced over to the painting he presented. It was a beautiful depiction of the sky at dusk: a gorgeous mix of colours at sunset with an ethereal sky of stars above. Even from a distance, it wasn't hard to appreciate his mastery of technique. Another detail of the painting caught your eye: the female figure in the middle whose presence was subtle, yet significant. As you pieced together her features, you slowly realized that the figure in his painting strongly resembled you.

"Hold on—" The sound of applause and chairs scraping on the floor interrupted your train of thought. You gasped as you hid around the corner, waiting for the studio to clear. You heard the voices fading off as they walked out of the studio and waited a few moments before deciding the coast was clear. You snuck into the studio, only to find one more person across the room.

"I saw you peeking, you know." Tsukishima remarked, packing up his artwork. "You're not stealthy at all."

"I figured." You sighed. "I'm just here to pick up some varnish for my project. How did your crit go?"

"I think it went well." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "I never talked this much during crits, but it was easier since I had some inspiration to drive me."

"Hey, that's awesome! I knew you had it in you!" You grinned. "It was a beautiful painting, by the way. It's funny—for a second, I thought the person in your painting sort of looked like me." You laughed awkwardly. The boy raised a brow.

"I painted Urania, one of the Nine Muses in Greek mythology. The Muse of astronomy. So yeah—don't flatter yourself."

"I guess you took my advice literally, huh." You replied, grimacing. You went over to the supply cabinet to pick up the varnish. The boy took notice of your change in tone and scratched his head.

"Sorry. That was unnecessary."

"it's fine." Silence fell upon the studio. Tsukishima finally cleared his throat.

"I mean—that's at least what I told the professors who she was. There's a hidden layer to the painting that I didn't mention."

"What do you mean?"

"What you said earlier—that you thought Urania resembled you. It's because I painted her to resemble you, and the way you admired the sky. Did you think it was a coincidence she looked like you in a painting where I also painted what you said was your muse?"

"W-why paint me, then?" You stammered. He sighed. You sensed a change in his demeanor.

"It baffled me how each crit in class, you're always so adamant on the message of your paintings. It was something I admire about you— and something I wanted to be able to do. Through you, I learned to find inspiration from even the most mundane things." He slowly made his way across the room to you. You grew flustered.

"Tsukishima..." You took a step back, getting backed up by the wall. He stopped right in front of you, towering over you. You felt your cheeks warm up. He took the jar of varnish from your hand and tucked it in his back pocket.

"I meant what I said back at Yamaguchi's place—that I didn't care about anyone else but you. So hearing what you said that night..." A deep, golden shade of sunlight shone through the window pane and onto you as the sun began to set. You reached for Tsukishima’s shirt and gently tugged on it. He reached for your other hand and held it. He cupped his other hand on your cheek and tilted your head upward towards him. "You said you didn't believe I didn't have a muse, but I swore on it. Now—now it's different, because I've found you, Y/N." He leaned his face closer, your eyes fixed onto each other's. "You're my muse." He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and kissed back. As your kisses grew deeper, you tugged on his shirt a bit stronger to pull his body closer to yours. He intertwined your fingers together, holding each other's hand tighter. This all felt right. Eventually, you lightly pulled away from each other, panting softly. You fixed your gaze on his golden-brown eyes once more. There was now a strong glint to them, unlike before. It made you happy.

"I'm honoured to be your muse, Kei." You softly replied, grinning widely. Hearing your reply, Tsukishima let out a soft laugh—it was the happiest you've seen him look. You liked seeing him this happy. He sighed.

"Here." He let go of your hand to reach for his back pocket and return the jar of varnish. "I’ll walk you home. I'm staying over at Yamaguchi's tonight." You took the jar and tucked it away in your bag. He followed you out of the studio and you began walking back to the apartment complex together.

"Your brother brought his girlfriend over again?" He nodded. "That's been happening more frequently. Doesn't it get annoying?"

"A bit. It's fine, though—" He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. "Soon enough, I might have to kick him out this time." He smirked. Growing flustered again, you gasped.

"Tsukishima, you pervert!" He sneered before speeding up his pace and leaving you behind. You scoffed, chasing after him. "Oi, get back here!"

—&

You gently slapped your cheeks with the palms of your hands—psyching yourself up. Your critique for your final term project is mere minutes away. You muttered to yourself as you paced back and forth in front of the studio.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."

"You can do this." Tsukishima repeated, having your painting in hand. "You have nothing to worry about."

"What if it's not good enough?" You fretted.

"You've worked so hard this whole term. I mean, look at this." He took another look at the canvas. "It's both meticulous and insightful. They'll love it."

"Are you su—" He promptly handed you back the canvas, interrupting you.

"They'll love it." He repeated once more. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "There. Only because you can't reach me from down there." He snickered, while you rolled your eyes. You heard a voice from the studio call your name. "Go knock 'em dead." You smiled at him once more before stepping into the studio. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for the professors' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school. However, now with better faith in your skills and in your muse, you figured you'll be alright.

#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #art school au

111 notes · View notes

makeusfreefromthisfandom · 4 years

Text

First of all i want to give a shout out to @ayumiko for letting me use her amazing gifs in my writing! I mean just look at them! Be sure to go check out her stuff <3 (the middle gif’s credit goes to @atticwraith)

Overlooked | Ikuya Kirishima x Reader

Anon asked: Hi! Can I request an Ikuya x reader? Maybe a reader who’s really outgoing and stuff, kind of like the total opposite of him. At first he’s kind of annoyed by them, but then he slowly warms up and actually misses them when they’re out sick from school. He goes and visits and things go from there! As a fic writer myself, I thank you so much for providing for fandoms! You’re doing amazing.

A/n: sorry if the ending is a bit tacky, I didn’t know exactly how to end it off

Genre: a bit angsty? fluff at the end

Word count: ~2k this ones a bit long

“Catch up with you guys later ok?” You waved your teammates goodbye as soon as you had spotted a familiar head of deep sea green hair.

“Hey Ikuya!” He turned around and was met with your big smile, nodding in response. You quickly made your way over to him before noticing a third party.

“Oh, hello to you too Hiyori.” Your smile was returned with a little wave of his own. Teeth clenched, because we know he’s internally screaming

“First name basis huh?” Hiyori asked tartly, however a smile still present on his features.

“No need to be so uptight! We’ve all been given a name for a reason, so we can be called by it! By the way we’ve all been acquainted long enough.” You nudged Hiyori slightly in return, glancing at Ikuya, who just cared about making it to class on time. “Which is why I’m constantly telling you two to also call me (f/n)!”

“Hmmm.” Hiyori gave you a closed eyed smile before picking up the pace to catch up with his friend. I’m telling’ ya, internal screaming.

“Hey you two! Wait up!”

Students shuffled into the classroom, you took your usual seat next to Ikuya. You were taking notes when something had caught your eye. “Woah! You’re a really good artist Ikuya!” You leaned in next to him, pointing at the little doodles on the edge of his paper. Instinctively, the boy grabbed his notebook, blocking it from your view.

“T-They’re nothing.” He stated simply and went back to writing, this time with a protective arm shielding his work.

“...you could just take the compliment you know..” you muttered looking away. You felt a tap on your shoulder, making your eyes light up, only to find that it was just another classmate asking for help. You sighed and leaned over behind Ikuya to try and explain the problem.

The bell rang not too soon after. You and Ikuya began gathering your things, fingers brushing slightly in the process. You had managed to stumble out a sorry, but found that the boy was already halfway out the door; oblivious to you, with a small dust of pink hinted on his cheeks.

The next few days were the same, school work, friends, volleyball (yes you play volleyball k? I was watching haikyuu. I couldn’t help it), more volleyball, and failed attempts at a conversation with Ikuya.

“Hey Ikuya! Check it out! There’s a new cafe that’s opened nearby, some friends and I are gonna go check it out, you wanna come?”

“No, sorry I’ve got plans.”

Each day made your heart sink even more, along with the pile of stress, schoolwork and volleyball weighing on your shoulders. Nevertheless, you put on the same bright smile, known to everyone around you, and kept on.

“(L/n)?” Your face lit up at the sound of the familiar voice to your right, “...my eraser rolled over, can you reach it?”

“Huh? Yeah sure!” You gave him a smile and bent down, holding your hand out slightly before something struck you.

Why? Why do I feel like I need his attention? Why am I so pathetic? The realization was like a stab, penetrating deeper and deeper.

“(L/n)?.....(l/n)?....are you okay?”

You broke out of your trance and reached for the eraser, “S-sorry.” You placed the eraser in Ikuya’s hand, who was now looking at you with slight concern. You were silent after that, paying mind to your own work, failing to notice the boy next to you glance at you with worry.

The rest of the day consisted of you dwelling in your own thoughts, ignoring the calls of your friends and teammates. Skipping practice, you went straight home and sprawled out on your bed. Picking up your nearby volleyball, spreading your fingers into a setting position, you began gently tossing the ball up and down with hundreds of thoughts beginning to cloud your brain. Ikuya was never one to hide his annoyance, you knew that. But maybe you did talk too much, and maybe some of your friendships were forced. Were you trying too hard? Were people, unlike Ikuya, hiding their annoyance? Your insecurities that you thought you had left long behind, came flooding back. You shut your eyes tightly, thinking that would make the thoughts go away, as you drifted off into a deep sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm pounding at your head, and made your way to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, you took a good look at yourself in the mirror. The thoughts of last night still swirling in your head, making it feel like it was going to explode. Suddenly you felt something rise at the back of your throat, as you scrambled towards the the toilet and let it all out. The throbbing sensation on your right side became more prominent, the lights around you making it worse.

A couple of hours later, you thought you had heard your phone ring. Quite a few times actually. Great to know people care about me, you thought sarcastically. You decided to stay home with all the lights off and the blinds tightly shut, every movement or thought pulsating your head further. You couldn’t remember exactly when, but you had eventually passed out on the couch, failing to hear the sound of your front door opening.

“(L/n)?....” Ikuya had suspected something was up with you these past couple of days. Although the facade you had built around you might have fooled another, you had been around to constantly bug, not that he really minded deep down, for Ikuya to realize you were acting different.

“(L/n)!” Ikuya panicked, his eyes adjusting to the dark space, to catch a glimpse of a limp silhouette passed out on the couch. He quickly came to your side, checking to make sure you were okay.

H-huh? You slowly began to wake to a hovering dark figure with amber eyes looking over you in concern. Ikuya?

Ikuya quickly backed away, face flushed and glad it was dark, once he had realized you were awake. You however, took a moment to just stare at him, headache or whatever forgotten.

Am I hallucinating? Why is Ikuya here?

“....you weren’t at school and your friends were saying how you weren’t answering any of their calls....you’ve been acting weird for the past couple of days....so I came to check on you...” Even in the dark, you could see the glimmer of his cat-like eyes.

Wait? He noticed?

“I also brought you the notes you all the notes and assignments you missed...your captain was pretty pissed off too...” He moved forward, hesitantly resting his hand on your forehead before moving to his bag to take out his notebook and some other papers. “You don’t feel all that warm...are you sure you’re not just skipping?”

Has he always been this talkative?

He stopped and turned expectantly, waiting for your reply. Before you could even think about opening your mouth, another surge of pain made its way, with you clenching the right side of your head in pain.

“M-migraine...” you managed to barely get out. Instantly, Ikuya was at your side, crouched down, back facing towards you.

“We should probably get you somewhere you can actually relax first.” He kept his pink-tinted face forward, waiting for you to climb onto his back, which you did without complaints. You warily pointed a finger in the direction of your bedroom, as he slowly made his way and rested you gently on the bed, before awkwardly standing off to the side. You pointed with your eyes, still in pain, to the edge of your mattress. After a few minutes of silence, you began to make sense of your situation.

“Why’d you come here Ikuya....?” You propped yourself against your pillows, head hung low to hide the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

Ikuya was silent for a bit before whispering ever so slightly, “You were more quiet than usual for the past week....I got worried....”

You were barely able to catch the last part as your eyes widened, before lowering back your gaze. “Shouldn’t you be relieved though? I’m not being annoying or a nuisance to you...”

Ikuya’s head shot up as he suddenly lunged towards you. “I don’t-,” before composing himself, “I don’t think you’re annoying...I actually like when you talk to me...” again, the last part barely above a whisper.

“Ikuya...” Another tinge pain shot up throughout the side of your head, as you let out a small whimper.

“D-do you need some medicine?! Where’s your cabinet?!” You let out a giggle, before it turned into full blown laughter, headache completely forgotten. Ikuya looked at you confused while you wiped the corners of your eyes. There was something about your disheveled, humorous state, that made Ikuya feel a complexity of emotions suddenly stir inside of him. Soon, and he had no idea why, he started to laugh along with you. You paused and took in his image, the feelings in your own heart becoming more evident.

“....here I was thinking you hated my guts...” you murmured softly, shaking your head, but then instantly regretting it. “But, I already took some medicine not too long ago.” You paused again, but this time more seriously. Despite the painful state you were currently in, you still couldn’t ignore the gut feeling in your stomach.

“Ikuya...you are aware right?” Ikuya was now also looking directly at you. “...aware how I feel about you...” He froze, wide-eyed and eyebrows raised. He could no longer deny the growing feeling in his heart either. He blushed and looked away,

“...I feel the same way about you too (f/n)...for a while now...”

He said it softly, but you were just able to catch the last part as your eyes were now bulging out of your sockets. He caught a glimpse of your expression before suddenly backing away, as if he had said something wrong.

“W-what is it! W-why are you looking at me like that.”

“That’s the first....first time you ever called me by my first name...”

And for a while now? Maybe you really were oblivious.

By the look on his face, he had just realized this as well, but crossed his arms anyways, avoiding eye contact.

“It is your name you know...of course I would call you by it...” Your body moved before you had time to process what you were doing, and soon your cool hands met warm, as Ikuya gently sat back down, face now red, but still avoiding your gaze. Just as you were about to say something, a familiar sensation danced it’s way back, as you squeezed your eyes shut, removing your hands from Ikuya’s to clutch onto your head.

“Here lie down...” you obeyed, bracing for the next wave of pain, only to be met with slender fingers running through your locks, massaging in place once they had found their destination. You relaxed under Ikuya’s touch, eyelids becoming heavy.

Ikuya smiled to himself, scooting closer and watching your brows slowly unknit, as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber. ~

#ikuya kirishima #ikuya kirishima x reader #ikuya x reader #ikuya kirishima one shot #free!#free! ikuya #free! imagines #free! x reader #free! scenarios #free! one shots #free! iwatobi swim club #free! dive to the future

97 notes · View notes