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desertwritings · 1 year

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A BREAK FROM STUDYING

A Jimmy Mcgill/Saul Goodman x Cis Female reader Y/N fanfic?

TBH this is my first time posting my work on Tumblr so I’m still figuring out the formatting. This story is smut based... like heavily smutty and gross so you have been warned. If you like it enough for me to make it a series let me know!

NOW TAKING REQUESTS!

CONTAINS: age gap, daddy k!nk, cream pie, mild squirting, public(ish) sex.

CONTEXT: You have been working with Jimmy in the mail room for years now and have always had a puppy love schoolgirl sort of crush on him since you first met, but always thought it wasn’t reciprocated. Now, one night, he shows just how badly he’s wanted you this whole time while you try to study for the bar exam.

I only had another week left until the bar exam and I spent most of my time either working in the mailroom of HHM or studying in doc review. Howard had been supportive enough, allowing me extra time to focus on my studies, all while also paying for my school costs — even if it was just through the local community college. Go Suncats! Honestly, this had been the most support I had ever received. Maybe if I grew up having more support, I would be going to Harvard instead.

“Heya y/n.” I heard the familiar raspy and pitchy tone of Jimmy as he leaned in the doorway of doc review, where I hunched over a textbook, an empty coffee cup, and a tear-stained notebook.

“It’s like — almost midnight. What are you still doing here?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my pen and paper.

I heard his footsteps get closer and the chair beside me pull out and creek as he sat beside me. “I have my reasons.” He answers in a half-assed manner.

I turned to face him, the dim lamp highlighting his playful smile and I felt my core grow weak and mushy for him.

The first time I had met Jimmy Mcgill I was working in the mail room, trying to get a job as an assistant or a paralegal for one of the partners. Freshly twenty-three with a bright and optimistic view of the world — full of drive and childish ambition. I was so focused on work and starting classes that I hadn’t taken any time to unwind — let alone care about boys or dating or anything like that. But the first time I met the mysterious brother to Chuck Mcgill, I’ll admit it was like I became a sappy, sick puppy dog. Sure, he was older — a little bit of a loser. But I was weak for the funny pathetic underdogs. Not to mention he was flirty and funny and fed into my childish delusions of how I could “fix him.” I flirted back, wore short skirts, wore the hoop earrings he complimented once, and wore my hair loose and fun. I tried. But for some reason, it never went past harmless office flirtation. I assumed maybe it was the age difference. Maybe he was uncomfortable with being with someone as young as me. Maybe he was just trying to do the right thing but not giving in to temptation with me.

Now I was almost twenty-seven, and though the schoolgirl crush had dulled a little, there were times when I would catch myself looking at him like he could move heaven and earth. Like in this moment as he sat next to me in the dimly lit document room. So I cleared my throat and turned back to the papers in front of me.

“Admit you just missed me.” I teased as the smallest of smiles tugged on the corners of my lips.

“Objection. That’s hearsay.” He teased back, leaning closer as he slid my favorite energy drink across the table with a single finger — the condensation leaving a small streak of liquid on the wood top. “Some of us went out for drinks, and I noticed you weren’t there. Ernesto said you were here studying.”

“Yeah, yeah he came and asked if I wanted to go but —” I shrugged, motioned to all the school work displayed in front of me.

“You work too hard. You should take a break and come back out with us.”

He carefully takes the pen from my fingers, puts the cap back on and sets it aside. It was a subtle and simple thing he did but I felt my skin grow warm.

“I wish I could, but — I just have a lot to study still, and the exam is —”

“ — a week away.” He interrupts me. “Which means you have time to take one tiny break out of your evening to have a little fun and destress.”

“I don’t know, Jimmy.”

“Oh, come on, y/n. It’ll be good for you!” He inches so close I can almost taste his cologne and the head and shoulders 2-in1 shampoo. “Come on — for me?”

And with that, I knew. I knew he knew that I had a stupid schoolgirl crush on him and he was using it against me, and fuck — it was working. I tried to fight a smile, shaking my head as my cheeks flushed pink.

“Fine — whatever,” I said, slamming my book shut. “but only because you seem so desperate.”

He stands up with the dumbest grin. “See? That’s my girl.”

I stand up, fixing my skirt that had ridden up, my thigh exposed past my thigh-highs, maybe even a bit of my black panties. I wasn’t thinking much of it until I caught a glimpse of Jimmy eyeing me like a lion eyeing a gazelle. It was unexpected, unfamiliar. He had looked at me before in a more appreciative way. This time it seemed more lustful, more desperate even, and it caused my chest and legs to grow hot. I could feel wetness going in between my legs, and for a moment, I got embarrassed.

“I just, uh — I just have to put this stuff in my car, and then we can —” As I was talking, he moved closer, not helping my flustered state. I stopped in my tracks, looking up at him.

I was about to say something. I was about to walk past him and run out of the room but his hands slid around my waist and I nearly forgot how to breathe. His bottom lip was pressed by his teeth, his brows furrowing in what looked like deep thought. Though it wouldn’t take a genius to know what he was thinking about.

“Jimmy —” I said, his name barely above a whisper.

“Look — am I totally crazy for thinking that you — that you want me?” He asked, head tilting just slightly as his eyes didn’t leave my own. “If I’m making shit up in my head tell me now and I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if I’m right —”

I was so thrown off guard. This whole time I thought he didn’t want me. This whole time I thought I was too young for him or that maybe I wasn’t his type. But here we stood with his grip around my waist firm and hungry and waiting for direction.

“I —” I looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He wanted me so bad in this moment he couldn’t even hide it. Without much thought, I got on my toes and pulled his neck down into my kiss. He let out a pleasantly surprised whimper, his grip moving down lower to cup my ass as he pulled me into his bulge. I could feel it stabbing me and twitching. I let out a soft and involuntary moan.

“I wanna feel how wet you are.” He groaned into my ear, sliding his right hand under my skirt and rubbing his fingers on the outside of my soaked panties. He smiled, placing a rather fervent kiss on my neck and biting my skin gently. “Fuck — you’re so wet. You’re dripping.”

“Mhmm — you make me that way.” I practically moaned the words as he moved my panties off to the side and slid one of his fingers inside me, the wet sounds loud and affirming just how badly my body wanted him.

“Come here.” He pulled his finger out of me, making me whine in protest as his hands wrapped around my waist to hoist me on the edge of the table.

At this point, I was panting, aching, my pussy pulsing for him to touch me. He shoved his index and middle fingers in his mouth and lubricated them with his own spit before shoving them into my soaking pussy without so much as a warning. I gasped, smiling, laying back on the table as he positioned my legs over his shoulders.

At first, he started off with a gentle, slow rhythm. In and out. With every push of his fingers, I could feel him pressing against my walls, making my back arch. “Faster.” I pleaded. And with that he was picking up the pace, ramming his fingers into me with force and speed. I couldn’t even handle it, my legs tried to shut as I began to feel overstimulated, but he pried them open and continued to finger-fuck me while I wiggled and writhed on the table beneath him.

I let out a loud moan that was followed by his hand cupping around my mouth to stifle my pathetic little noises. I had forgotten where we were and that anyone could just walk in and see us this way.

“You like that? Do my fingers feel good?” He was getting off on making me feel good, it was easy to tell. He was boosting his ego by making himself feel good by making me cum all over his fingers.

“Mhhhmm” I mumbled under his hand as my eyes opened and looked up at him.

“God — you’re so beautiful.” He said, staring down at me. “Be a good girl and don’t get us in trouble, okay?” He laughed a breathless laugh as he lifted his hand from my mouth. “You’re getting wetter.” He said with a pleased smirk.

“I’m so close, Jimmy, please —” and with my pitiful begging, he finger-fucked me harder, this time with three fingers while his other hand played with my clit. “I — I’ll make a mess.” I confessed, more like a warning.

“Good.” He said, not slowing his pace or showing me mercy as my body tensed and my back arched.

“Fuck — fuck I’m coming —” I squealed, wiggling around as I started to squirt just a little in between every push of his fingers — my wetness drenched his entire hand and forearm. He just kept going, too, making me moan and writhe around, all pathetic and out of control of my own body. It felt good, though, to not be in control for once. My mind wasn’t thinking about the bar exam, bills, or moving up in HHM. Truth be told, it was just thinking about Jimmy and the way he was making me feel.

“Ah fuck — you’re so sexy.” He said, taking his drenched hand and slowly pulling it away from me, pressing it to his mouth and licking the tips of his fingers. “I knew you’d taste so good.” I grinned a little, out of breath and panting on the table.

My eyes wandered to his disheveled hair and his cocky smile, then to his soaked hand that reached into his pants and pulled his erect cock out. He didn’t even need to hold it, it just stood there on its own — ready.

I slowly sat up on my elbows, practically drooling over his cock, which was bigger than I had imagined. “I want you to fuck me with that.” I confessed, looking back up at his glazed-over eyes.

He didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed me by the waist like he did before and flipped me over on the table with my ass and pussy exposed. I stuck my ass out just a little more, begging for his cock. But before he stuck it in me he kissed me down from the back of neck, down my spine, and then left a little bit on my ass cheek. Then without much warning he was shoving his hard cock into my still-soaking wet pussy. I gasped and groaned, tilting my head back at the feeling.

“Ah — fuck.” he nearly whimpered, already breathing heavily as he started off with a slow and steady pace. He leaned over me and pressed his lips to the top back of my head while he said, “I want you to call me daddy.”

I let out a soft whimper in understanding. “Please fuck me harder, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he said, fucking me harder and shoving his cock deep into me, ramming into my walls and making me whimper with every thrust. His left hand came up to the back of my head and tangled in my hair as his right hand gripped my waist firm in place as he continued to fuck me.

“Just like that, daddy, don’t stop.” I moaned, banging my hands on the table with nothing to hold onto.

He gripped my hair harder, lifting my head up as he thrust into me even more fervently — nothing but the sound of our whimpers and moans and skin slapping together.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He moaned, reaching his hand from my waist to my clit and rubbing it to the rhythm of his thrusting. It only made me moan and shake more.

“I want you to cum inside me, daddy.” I confess, biting my lower lip.

“Yeah? You want daddies cum to fill you up?”

“Please daddy — please cum for me.” I begged, barely able to get the words out.

He picked up the pace to a new speed I didn't even know anyone was capable of reaching, moaning and groaning and sweating all over my bare ass until he made a pathetic whimper sound then the next thing I knew he was emptying his load into my raw pussy — filling me up with his warmth and sliding his cock almost out of me but not quite. I could feel his cock twitching as he continued to empty himself inside me. The feeling of his cum made me even more hot and flushed.

“Holy shit.” he huffed, slowly removing his now flaccid cock from me. I turned over my shoulder to look at him looking at my cum-filled pussy with an arrogant smirk across his face. He was fucking proud of himself.

I was about to ask for a taste of his cum before we heard footsteps near the mail room. We frantically got ourselves dressed and I rushed to fix the desk and open my book back to make it look like I was still studying. Jimmy fell hard into his seat, hair all sweaty and slightly curled as he zipped up his pants.

Two cleaning ladies came in with their cleaning cart, staring at us with confusion. “Hola, ladies.” Jimmy said, with a simple wave of his hand. “You can, uh, skip this room tonight.”

They looked at each other, nodded, then walked out.

Jimmy turned to me with an amused expression, eyes moving down to the now cum-soaked chair I was sitting in and laughed a little. “Guess we should have let them clean.”

#jimmy mcgill x reader #jimmy mcgill x y/n #saul goodman x reader #saul goodman x y/n #jimmy mcgill smut #saul goodman smut #bcs fanfic #( mine / jimmy mcgill. )#( mine / saul goodman. )

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fandomlurker333 · 1 month

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Fundamental Forces (Challengers Fanfic)

Author's Note: Wow! It has been a LONG time since I wrote fanfiction. I can't believe it's Challengers (2024) that got me to do it, but I LIVE for Patrick's chaotic Bi energy, Art's hidden vindictiveness, Tashi's intolerance for bullshit, and a messily drawn triangle where the angles are trying REALLY hard to touch.

This is basically 900 words of character study, but it's got dashes of both Patrick/Tashi and Patrick/Art. I hope it scratches someone's itch.

Patrick knows he’s a fucking irredeemable piece of shit because sometimes he wishes his mother had died of breast cancer. Or that his dad had been a raging alcoholic — the kind that shouted obscenities and backhanded him across the face when he’d pissed him off. Sometimes he wishes that any of the Nannies he had until he was 11 years old had touched him wrong. Or that he’d killed his first high school girlfriend driving tipsy after junior prom.

Instead, Patrick had a perfectly normal childhood.

His mother brought flawless cupcakes to every school bake sale, was punctual for every parent-teacher conference.

His Dad worked a little too much, maybe, drank one scotch too many on hard days. He always knew it and always put himself to bed early when he did.

His parents were together seven years before they had him. Married, in their late twenties. He was part of the plan.

Both come from money. They like each other well enough. They have a stable, comfortable arrangement that suits them. Perfectly normal.

There’s no explanation for why Patrick came out wrong.

&&&

Tennis is all he's good at.

He's no good at school.

Or saying nice things to people.

Or staying in one place for very long.

It's just tennis.

That's his one good trick.

&&&

He’s sitting in a classroom with eighteen other kids and one of the girls has already taken her test up to Ms. Larken’s desk. He knows because he saw her shoes — sparkly green jelly sandals. They glitter in the sunlight that slants through the window.

So, Kelly has already taken her test up and Patrick’s palms begin to sweat. He’s been staring at the same question for 19 minutes. They have 30 minutes to complete the exam.

He doesn’t know the answer. He doesn’t know for sure. He knows the formula. He recognizes the triangles. He’s flipped his paper onto the blank side and redone the calculations over and over, fit the numbers together in every way imaginable. But he still doesn’t know the answer. Not for sure.

He’d sped through the first half — questions one to twenty-two. They were easy. This one should be easy too. It’s all the same section of the textbook he’d memorized. They talked about it in class three days ago. He knows…

He doesn’t know the answer. There’s something hot and sharp squeezing in his chest. The air around him feels so thick, he could choke.

He flicks his eyes up to the clock again and it’s been 23 minutes.

It’s not enough time. He’ll get it wrong. Every question matters.

Dread pools in his belly. Blood pounds in his temples, behind his ears, in the hollow of his throat.

The graphite tip of his pencil snaps beneath his thumb.

At the 30-minute mark, Ms. Larken asks them to bring up their tests.

Patrick rips his in half and stuffs the unanswered questions in his mouth. He stumbles out of class with no direction, chewing the paper until it becomes a mass of wet pulp on his tongue.

He swallows it.

&&&

Patrick’s parents put him in a boarding school that allows personalized curriculums.

He almost never takes tests.

So, he’s almost never terrified of getting it wrong.

&&&

Tashi Duncan is everything Patrick wishes he was for real — confident, irresistible, commanding, magnetic, and more than anything…a winner.

He wants to be her as much as he wants to fuck her. That is some confusing shit right there.

She’s a firecracker. He can’t hold her in his hands for long. She burns too hot, too fast, too bright. Despite himself, he loves feeling the spark and heat of flame bite at his fingertips.

He loves her. Or he thinks he does, in whatever way a 19-year old self-obsessed fuck up can love a person.

Being with her is like jumping feet first off a moving train. She exhilarates and scares him in equal measure.

He knows the likelihood of survival is not great. She may destroy him, but he’ll relish screaming all the way down.

Patrick thinks he remembers feeling something similar when he first met Art. Not nearly as violent, but just as disorienting.

A sense of inevitability, of falling helplessly into whatever they were — no control, no foresight, no time to change a damn thing.

Making Art his best friend felt natural; liking him, wanting to be around him, was innate. He’s never thought about something less than he did the first time he slung an arm around Art’s neck and reeled him in.

His 11-year-old self wouldn’t have described it this way, but in hindsight, Art was immediately necessary to him. Like, the moment they met was the moment Patrick recognized he had always been part of the fabric of his reality.

Tashi feels like centrifugal force — she hurls him away from his center, pushes him off kilter, makes him adjust to find his balance over and over. He likes being kept on his toes. He likes to imagine them balancing on the tightrope together — her as graceful and agile as she is on the court, him scrambling to keep afloat with her — all spit, grit, and dogged determination.

Art, though, Art has always felt like gravity. He grounds Patrick’s flightiness, weighs him down in the here and now. He’s the constant, steady force that keeps Patrick from drifting off into space, floating aimlessly with no direction. It’s easy to take him for granted, to forget how important he is because he is always always there.

Until he isn’t.

Neither of them are.

And Patrick is lost.

#challengers #challengers 2024 #patrick zweig #art donaldson #patrick x art #artrick?#i hate it lol #patrick x tashi #ot3 #kinda #challengers fanfic #fanfiction #art the ruiner

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oldtowrs · 2 years

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𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄──✧₊∘

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 / 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜

part one // part two

✧₊∘ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - jason and his cult of "balls-in-laundry-baskets" jocks make fun of the reader for her size. and while she tries to keep it from him, eddie loves his girl - size and all - and knows her silence a little too well. he vows to take matters into his own, ring-laden hands. but not before he can make his best girl feel better [5.2k].

✧₊∘ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - hello! aahhh first eddie munson fic! I'm so excited to share this with you all because I love this idea, and us chubby/plus size girlies need some love - especially from our soft metalhead boy. so please enjoy. like reblog comment, leave feedback etc. if you liked it... tell me you liked it! thanks!!!

also special thanks to @luveline @letterstotheflre @inklore and @ringpop-poppy . their eddie fanfics are so well written and lovely and the way they write eddie is perfect. reading their works inspired me to write my own. so please, if you like eddie, or even steve or nancy, go! check! them! out!

✧₊∘ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 - PLEASE READ BEFORE INTERACTING. SPOILER FREE. mentions and descriptions of bullying based on size/weight. swearing. like one sexual innuendo, but its really mild. reader is described to be feminine, and uses she/her pronouns. plus size/chubby!reader. slight nerd!reader. slight shy!reader. supportive, caring bf!eddie. slight angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. eddie just loves his soft, squishy girlfriend too much. mentions of scrapes and bruises on the reader's hands. could be triggering for those who are heavier than others, those with ED’s, etc. read at your own discretion.

radio silence. that was all that eddie had gotten from you all day. just radio silence.

ever since eddie munson had placed a tender kiss to your hairline, pressed your advanced biology textbook - complete with detailed notes from last night’s study session - into your hands, and wished you the best of luck and a fond farewell, all before first period… you had been silent.

you hadn’t even shown up to lunch. you hadn’t graced eddie and his table of outcasts like the angel you were, coming down from on high with a radiant smile and a blush blooming on the plump curves of your cheeks. he had even scanned the room for you too. you hadn’t sat with the other nerds like you occasionally did after a big exam - discussing answers and arguing about sciency stuff even though they all knew you continued to outrank them through and through. no, you weren’t with the nerds, nor the band kids, nor the artists. he had even, albeit foolishly, looked towards the jocks, the cheerleaders and the populars - but you were nowhere to be seen. radio silence.

maybe you were busy he thought - surely you had some other test or an essay or some math assignment to stress about, setting yourself up on a little desk in the corner of the library until the bell for fifth period rang. but you would’ve told him, wouldn’t you? eddie confirmed a negative on both accounts when he had asked the librarian if you had wandered in amongst the shelves during lunch.

from the satan’s asshole that was hawkins high, all the way through the woods, and through the trailer park before skidding to a halt in front of eddie’s trailer there was radio silence. nothing. he had put on everything from judas priest to exodus and you hadn’t even once laughed at his hair - wild from the wind ripping through the open windows and his incessant head banging. nor had you given him that sweet smile and a shake of your head at his theatrical mouthing of the lyrics to his favorite metallica songs like you usually did. you hadn’t even asked to put on kate bush instead, nor the new smiths album that you had been raving about months before it’s release. you hadn’t even asked to put on kate bush.

and that’s how eddie munson knew something was wrong.

“doll?” eddie asked then as he turned the key, his voice gentle in the newfound silence where the rattle of the engine had been only moment ago. “is something wrong?”

you had turned yourself to face the window in an attempt to hide - he knew - and despite the rather large amount of dust accumulating on the windows of his van, he could see you biting your lip in your reflection. eddie immediately saw it for what it was -- an effort to keep quiet as you shook your head.

eddie couldn’t stand it for much longer, this static feeling of uneasiness that had settled in the silence, the space, between the two of you. and what was worst was eddie didn’t know what had gone wrong, or what he had done wrong. and that meant he didn’t know how to fix it.

“was it the test?” eddie asked, lifted his pointer finger - the one adorned with a chunky black metal band carved and polished to resemble a braid of chain - to brush a strand of fallen hair behind your ears. “because if it is, i’m sure you did great - wonderful even. i’m sure of it”

you turned to face him then, eyes downcast and supple lip swollen from your incessant worrying. his thumb joined his pointer finger and soon he was caressing the soft wispy strands just behind your temple. “you studied so hard this past week.”

he was being so sweet, tooth-rottingly so. but how could you tell him the truth behind your mopiness? how could you tell him - with those eyes of deep mahogany and sun-warmed honey, and sweet smile - what jason and his pack of idiots had done. how could you tell him all the mean things that had come out of his mouth - about how someone like you could never be loved, even by someone like him. you were too… much - in the physical sense that was - for someone to truly love you. too wide in some places, too soft and pliant in others — just too much. your skin was not taught and sun-soaked tan like theirs. yours spilled over the tops of your jeans ever so slightly, and strained against the threads of your shirts. you were just too much and of course, no one could truly love that, right?

and then, when you had tried to walk away from it all - get back to eddie and the rest of the hellfire club - he had his cult of basketball jocks and populars chased you, pushing and pinning you to the ground in their sick revelry, and ripping your beloved biology textbook from your hands before dumping all the notes you had spent so long working on for a week prior onto the ground.

those notes had held the essence of eddie’s cigarettes and weed, buried somwhere under the redolence of his musky cologne mingled with your soft, powdery perfume. the ink of your ballpoiont pens had held the memories of all his stupid little jokes he had made to see you smile. and, to make it all worse, the last heavy-handed shake from one of jason’s cultish teammates had sent a small folded up sticky note, decorated with eddie’s unruly scrawl, fluttering to the ground.

jason had plucked the note from the pile, and read it in his snobby, slightly accented snear, twisting the words from eddie’s love-laced tongue as he read them aloud.

i love you, my beautiful girl.

“‘my beautiful girl?’” the words still rung in your head, the devilish chuckle looping endlessly. “you are the farthest thing from beautiful, and not even the devil himself would ever love something like you. not even that freak, eddie munson.”

you had cried then. you knew you shouldn’t have let jason have that satisfaction. but the tears had flowed and you couldn’t stop them as he had ripped the note to pieces and sauntered away laughing. you had hoped that maybe eddie would take those pieces, now gathered into a crumpled pile in the pocket of your jacket, in his loving, ring-laden and callused hands. maybe, if you asked him nicely enough, he’d tape them back together in between the kisses he would laid to your now scraped-up hands and your puffy, tear-stained cheeks. maybe he’d make things right in your heart again.

but that would involve telling eddie. and knowing eddie, he would -- although you believed blindly - set himself aflame and burn. and you didn’t want to see what eddie would do to jason after he emerged from the ash and the flame. you liked eddie, soft and kind and dorky and nerdy and loving eddie. it wasn’t that you wanted eddie to stay stagnant, no. heaven and hell both knew that would be impossible. you just liked to see him glowing with happiness, for you knew he had been awarded precious little of it in his lifetime. it was what he, in all his deliberate sunshiney-ness and kind disposition, deserved.

telling him would only make things worse, you had decided with knees pressed into cold, linoleum tile and tears blurring your vision.

“it’s not the test, eds,” you finally sighed. “the test was fine. i’m fine.”

“and that is how i know you’re not,” said eddie, as he tapped a finger gently upon the tip of your nose before allowing his touches to continue their tender merrymaking about your face.

he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, but not before grabbing the door handle with his unoccupied hand, those big brown eyes never leaving yours, and kicked it wide open. the last of october’s leaves had fallen to the ground and crunched underfoot as eddie slid out of the van and made his way around the hood to open your door in the same dramatic fashion. he gathered your textbook in his arms and slung both your backpacks over a leather-jacket-covered shoulder. and then, with dark chunky rings reflecting the cool november light, he extended a hand, fingers splayed wide and awaiting the warmth of your touch -- a delicacy eddie had been craving all day.

“come, sweetheart,” he said, voice softening to a shadow of his usual cadence, dulcet and adoring in its low tones. “the shire awaits us.”

a slight huff of laughter had eddie’s gaze darting up to your lips and - oh. there was that sweet little smile of yours - the shy tug of emotion at the corners of the supple lips that eddie could never get enough of. god, was he smitten.

you placed your hand in his, with the lingering remnants of your smile and fingers poking out of your sleeve as you still tried to hide jason’s damage from your doting boyfriend.

but your luck was beyond terrible today: and eddie - though sweet in his intentions - slipped prying fingers beneath the cuff of the sleeve and pushed it back to reveal the soft skin on the back of your hand. and, just as he had begun to bring your fingers, with fingernails painted that marblescent gray he so dearly loved and adorned with rings so dainty compared to his own, upward to the warmth of his lips, eddie stoped. those prying fingers had froze over the scrapes that had scabbed over where the soft, delicate skin of your palm had broken and that had begun to bruise in the places where it hadn’t. a wince tore the smile away from your lips in an instant and confusion darkened eddie’s normally bright brown eyes, their doe-like softness ebbing away in an instant.

“doll, what-”

“i fell,” you substituted all to quickly, pulling your hand away from eddie’s loving touch. in fact, you pulled away from eddie entirely, casting your eyes downward as you slipped from the seat. “at lunch, i fell. it’s not a big deal.”

“hey,” eddie said, worry entangling with love and spilling from his tongue as he reached up to brush away the hair that had fallen from behind your ear in your endeavors, returning it to a place that he so dearly loved -- a place that afforded him the joy of seeing your lovely features. “don’t pull away from me, sweetheart. okay?”

his lips were a welcomed warmth as he pressed them to your forehead in a loving kiss as the tips of his fingers lost themselves in the hair at the nape of your neck as if to cradle your head - just there above the delicate skin along your hairline where the days stress had built up- before eddie slipped his free arm around your shoulders.

“come on, let’s go inside.”

the warmth of eddie’s trailer greeted you the moment you stepped inside, the homey smell of coffee, the earthy scent of eddie’s weed and the heady musk of his uncle cigarettes, old vinyls and dust. it was a odd blend of things, but it felt like home -- a sanctuary where it was just you and eddie. no jason, no societal expectations, no bullying and rude nicknames and taunting. just the two of you.

and ever since eddie had insisted the two of you read the hobbit together, you had even taken to calling it the shire. it had started as just a little joke between the two of you. but the name had taken up more space in your mind and weigh a little heavier in your heart as of late - especially on days like today. it was where you could always go to feel at peace. it was the small comforts - much like bilbo baggins’s tea and the many goods of his pantry - that made you feel content and safe. and eddie -- eddie with his arm wrapped around you as he lead you down the small hallway to his room, eddie with love in his eyes and adoration in his heart of hearts -- was the best of those comforts. he always had been.

and so it was no surprise when he let the backpacks fall from his shoulder and hit the floor with a soft thump, the textbook soon following suit as his hands preferred the company of yours to the words and concepts bound in heavy paperboard. tose hands tethered you to him, keeping you grounded in him and the present as he lead you gently toward his bed until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. he sat down heavily and pulled you in so close the heady scent of him - some heavenly blend of musky cologne, leather and weed smoke - flooded your senses.

his chin tilted upward, his lean and muscled neck extending elegantly until he could properly meet your gaze - until those doe eyes of his bore into your soul with a warmth so uniquely him that it warmed you against the cool air infiltrating the little sanctuary you had found with him. his hands guided yours to the back of his head, almost begging you to lose yourself in the mess of his curls instead of the raging storm of thoughts in your head. his hands were mischievously sweet in their endeavors as they crept up under the hem of your baggy shirt, seeming to kiss the soft valleys and many hills of your sides with a reverence so sweet it verged on the edge of utter devotion -- perhaps, even worship.

“come on, sweetheart,” he said, voice weak, if not pleading, and not far off from the soft, cracked sort of mumble that seemed to overcome his voice in the aftermath of one of his smoke sessions. “you’ve been avoiding me all day. talk to me. what’s up?”

“it’s not you, eds,” you said, voice becoming equally as soft. “i promise.”

“then what is it?” he asked, a modicum of his worry turning his voice melancholic as he reached up to cradle your cheek in his hand, to run the backs of his fingers along the soft skin of your temple… to soothe you in the only way he knew how. a small seed of comfort burrowed its way into his heart and a small smirk pulling at his lips in a lopsided grin as he watched the way your eyebrows pinched together ever so slightly as you leaned into the touch “can’t have my pretty girl feeling sad all by herself.”

he twirled a little loop of your hair around his finger then, thumb still roving the now blushing apples of your cheek as though he could work his love into the most fundamental parts of you through his minstrations. “talk to me, baby.”

“it was just a long day,” you sighed. you wanted to tell him what happened, ask him if he really did love you in your entirety, even though your entirety was a little bit more than others.

but how could you? it felt like an insult to ask eddie if he really loved you. eddie, who always gave you little cassette tapes of songs he thought you would like, who showered you in compliments so genuine and sweet, who had learned the behaviors of your body with record speed. he knew every facial expression, every way in which you tried to hide yourself when insecure and how you expressed yourself when happiness and passion took over. no, you couldn’t question the love of someone who made it so apparent in everything he did and who was oh so sweet about it too.

“something happened at school, but it not that big of a deal.”

a small gasp fell from your lips as his touch fell and wrapped like burning wildifre around your thighs as he hiked you up into the air and spun you around in circles. he laughed as your legs straddled his hips tightly and your arms hugged you close in his revelry. he acted as if you weighed nothing more than a feather, as if you weren’t too much. he spun you around as if he knew what jason had said, as if he had been there and felt that ache burning in your lungs, in your throat, in the tears that pricked your eyes just as strongly as you did. he acted as if he wished to soothe your aching heart by pouring as much love into your being as he could. and he did. it didn’t matter the cost.

as long as eddie got to see you, his sweet girl, his love, with happiness dancing along your lips and in the air of your laughter as it fell from them… it didn’t matter.

and the moment the two of you - a tangle of love and limbs and laughter - hit the mattress, those wonderful hands of his left the pliant skin of your thighs - thighs that now straddled him as you sat atop his lap - and found the sides of your face. his lips were a plush and pillowy velvet as they moved against yours, the ends of his curls tickled your face as he pressed himself in close.

“there she is,” eddie sighed contentedly, tracing his love along your cheek and along the ridge just above your ear with the knuckle of his pointer finger. a little of that ache that seemed to crawl up your throat and burn your words to ash on your tongue subsided. “there’s my beautiful girl.”

and there it was again. beautiful girl.

and all of a sudden, the dull numbness crashed back over you, like waves breaking and falling into themselves over and over again until finally they slammed into the shoreline without regret or remorse. and it must’ve been evident as tears pricked and flooded your eyes, for eddie - who was always so in tune to you and your emotions - did his best to reel you back into him, back out of the surf that was tearing you asunder.

“hey.”

a soft kiss to your cheek.

“where’d you go just then?”

and another, there just beside the corner of your eye that had fluttered shut to keep the tears from falling.

you couldn’t keep it from him any longer. he didn’t deserve the worry, didn’t deserve to be dragged under the unrelenting surf with you. but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to drag you out, comfort you, warm the coldness that had taken over and replace it with the familiar warmth of his love.

you settled back a little, shifting your weight closer to your hips to create some space between eddie’s strong muscled chest and your soft one and fished around in your pocket for the pieces of the note. cupping them in your ripped up hands, you finally let the tears fall with a soft sigh.

eddie’s gaze fell to your hands and you felt him go still beneath you - both of you observing the true of extent of jason’s damage. the bruises had gone a dark purple and painted the once soft skin in splotchy patches around the scabs where jason’s actions had ripped your hands apart.

one of his hands, much bigger and broader than yours, soon held yours while the other turned over the pieces of paper until the strokes of black pen were recognizable.

i love you, my beautiful girl.

“oh, sweetheart…”

his voice trailed off, and you swore you saw a flash of something angry and foreign in eddie’s kind eyes as he looked back up at you. his eyebrows scrunched together as he realized the tears wetting your cheeks, as if they were washing away the saccharine sentiments he worked so hard to press into your skin.

“who did this to you?”

a sob bubbled up from the depths of your heavy breathing and burning lungs, and you tried your best to suppress it with lips screwed shut. but it only served to worry eddie more as the metalhead tried desperately to chase the tears away with gentle touches.

“jason,” you whispered out, unable to manage much more. “jason and his teammates.”

“is that what-”

“they pinned me to the ground, eddie. they pushed me and they pinned me down and tore up your note and they said that you would never actually love me because how could you w-when… when i-” you tried to explain. but your breathing had become more and more labored with each sob that fell from your lips. it was all becoming too much, and you barely recognized that eddie had pulled you close to him again, and tucked your head into his shoulder and let you cry.

“its okay. i’m right here, baby,” eddie said, pressing you further into his shoulder, hands cradling the back of your head as another sob wracked through you. “just take some deep breaths, okay? you think you can do that for me?”

a silent nod sent his breathing into a slow, deepened repetition - an example with which to ground you, remind you that he was in fact right here, loving you with all he was, with every breath. you could feel him tracing circles along your spine, perfectly in time with him. and with each breath, somewhere between the inhale and the exhale, he found a new spot along your neck or your collar bone, the shell of your ear, anything to press a tender kiss to.

“in and out, sweetheart. just like that. you’re doing so good.”

but then you pulled out of his embrace ever so slightly to look at him, and eddie felt his heart break in two. because here you were, his beautiful girl, with your cheeks flushed a red so deep it would’ve been beautiful had the tears not stained and smeared across them. his beautiful girl, with eyes swollen and puffy and shining not from the happiness you deserved, but because the tears that just wouldn’t stop flowing caught the dim afternoon light streaming through the curtains and the small windows of eddie’s trailer. his beautiful girl, who’s lip wobbled and who kept wiping at her nose because that too was overflowing in your grief.

“he said you wouldn’t love me because i’m… because i’m overweight.”

his beautiful girl who jason carver had hurt.

“oh, princess…”

eddie could feel his blood boil in his veins. but he would save that rage, so rare and foreign to his usually peaceful demeanor, for later.

“you don’t even know how pretty you are,” he said, pulling you in and mumbling the words into your hair like secrets, sealing the statement with a kiss to the tip of your ear. “even like, this, sweetheart. you are more beautiful than anyone that that asshole could pull.”

“but i’m-”

“but nothing, princess,” eddie said, pushing away strands of hair and wiping away tears with gentle likeness. “you know what i thought the first time i saw you?”

a soft hum was your only response, no more than a sniffly mumble. and eddie could feel his heart pounding in his chest, spreading the ache that lingered there throughout his whole body.

“i thought you were a literal angel, princess,” eddie said, hand sliding up your form until he could mess with the delicate necklace around your neck, a little golden chain with a circular charm attached. an “e” had been engraved in the glinting surface, and it warmed eddie’s heart that you still wore it even though he had given it to you months ago. “you were wearing that cute, white sweatshirt of yours and a little black tanktop and a pair of those mom jeans, you know the light-washed ones?”

you nodded, and cast your eyes downward. “yeah the ones that i ripped a hole in two weeks ago.”

“yeah, but your hair was all curled and you were wearing all your pretty gold jewelry you like so much. you were carrying your physics textbook, and i could just tell by the way you looked at me that you were the smartest person i was ever going to meet. you looked so sweet and cuddly, and just looking at you made me feel so warm inside, princess.”

a little huff of laughter sounded in the quiet of the trailer, in the spaces between eddie’s recollection - and eddie was sure he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“and then we had that class together, remember? that one after lunch.”

“yeah, mrs.click’s class.”

“mrs. click’s class, exactly! and you remember how she never liked to turn on the lights? something about ‘natural light being better for you’ and all that crap?”

“yeah, i could barely stand her,” you said with a small chuckle at eddie’s impersonation of the long, nasally drawl that was mrs. click’s voice.

“i walked into that class and i saw you sitting there, sun coming through the windows and lighting up your hair like a fucking halo,” eddie said, as he buried his hands into your hair once more, revelling in the way you seemed to lean into his touch then. “you didn’t mind when i sat down next to you. eddie “the freak” munson sat down next to you and you didn’t even flinch. in fact, you were the first person who didn’t look at me like i’m some kind of satanic freak or a failure, or anything. you were the first one, baby.”

eddie could feel the heat of your blush radiating from your cheek and warming his fingers, his hands, his wrists and forearms as it crept up your neck and across the bridge of your nose.

“and you laughed at that stupid joke i made. you smiled and you laughed, and i was so surprised because i would’ve never imagined you would laugh at some rebellious idiot’s joke. you remember that?”

“you’re not an idiot eddie,” you said, hiding your blush by nuzzling your cheek further into his hand.

“that was my third time taking mrs. click’s class.”

“so what?”

“well, anyway,” eddie said, feigning exasperation with a hint of teasing in his tone as he removed on of his hands from your hair to run the back’s of his hands along the softness of your jawline. “you smiled at me and i thought ‘now there’s the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.’”

“oh, eddie,” you sighed, a semblance of that smile returning to your lips, and eddie couldn’t help but run his finger along your bottom lip, eyes trained on his movements there. “that was like two years ago. how do you even remember all that?”

a soft yelp sounded through out the room, followed by a mixture of his deep laughter and your soft chuckle as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down with him until his back hit the mattress and the softness of your chest met and seemed melded with his.

those wide, deep pools of brown - ringed and illuminated with specks of gold in the afternoon light flooding the room - found yours and it was almost as if you could see his love dancing among those specks like stars.

“because you are unforgettable, sweetheart. and no matter what jason and his balls-and-laundry-baskets cult say, you are my beautiful girl. you and your thighs, and your soft little tummy, your arms, and oh, this sweet lovely face of yours, princess. you are my beautiful girl. always.”

your breath caught then, as eddie’s hands skirted across the skin of your collarbone and up your neck until they found their place at the sides of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. you couldn’t help but chase his lips, so warm and sweet, until the two of you moved in tandem.

“you promise?” the words were no more than a mellow whisper spoken against the skin of his lips.

eddie pressed his head into the mattress, eye roving over your face with a wild smirk illuminating his face.

“babe… have you seen your ass and tits? yeah, i promise a million times over.”

“eddie!” you scolded, the room ringing with laughter as you lightly smacked his shoulder and pushed yourself off of him until the only contact between the two of you was the weight of your thighs pressing into his lap, supported by his strong, lean hips.

“yes, i promise,” eddie amended, as his hands tangled with yours, the pieces of the note laying forgotten across his chest and the sheet below him like petals of a flower lost to the summer winds. “now, do you think you can do me a favor, sweet thing? can you go grab the tape from the kitchen for me?”

you nodded and delicately climbed off of him. your footsteps were soft thumps along the fake wooden floor as you padded out the kitchen to do eddie’s bidding. and when you returned eddie had sat up, legs crossed over one another, and had busied himself by rearranging the pieces of the note before him - like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be fitted together on the crumpled sheets of eddie’s bed.

a whisper of concentrated thanks escaped his lips as his fingers brushed yours, plucking the little roll of tape from your hand and setting to work. and when he was done, he leaned across the bed, stretching out an arm to the little table he called a desk, pens and papers from his latest campaigns strewn across the surface, to grab a red sharpie.

“what are you writing?” you asked, trying to peer around his hand to catch a glimpse of the new scribbles he hurriedly added. a smile lit up his face as leaned away, tongue poking out from between his plush lips in concentration before he folded it up, capped the pen and placed the note in your hands.

“it’s a secret, princess,” he laughed, all smiles and warm, honeyed eyes as he pulled you in close for another hug — this time, burying his face into the softness of your abdomen to press kisses to it.

“oh and one more thing, sweetness,” he said, with an intonation softer than he had spoken all day and a heart even more so. “you’re beautiful, okay? and nothing that carver and those idiots say is going to change that. not to me, not ever, okay? you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

“even prettier than kate bush?” you asked.

“even prettier than kate bush, baby,” he promised with a laugh.

his arms loosened around you then as he stood to press fluttery kisses to your cheek, indulging wholly in the sweet warmth radiating from them and the heated rouge that painted them - almost as if he were consuming them like a man starved and you were the most luscious form of sustenance.

“you’re my girl, okay? always. my beautiful, beautiful girl.”

and sure enough when you looked down at the note, unfolding it with loving hands and a newfound warmth in your heart, his promise rang true. i love you, my beautiful girl. ALWAYS.

©DARTHKENOBII 2022

🏷 eddie tag - @buckysbruni @fallskies-latte @nevermore66

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fic: radio silence #sin’s works

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achilios · 2 years

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what if instead of studying for my wwii exam i just read captain america fanfics

or make another reclist but this time for CA fics

#studying for exams with fanfic instead of the textbook #honestly the information would probably be more accurate #honestly haven’t actually read ca ff in a solid bit of time #world war 2 #captin america #captain america fanfiction #my study guide is judging me rn #marvel fanfiction #stucky #captain america x bucky barnes

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flourgirl · 4 years

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Study Buddies

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: When your friends can’t make it to an outing with you, Peter offers to accompany you instead. However, he gets caught up on a mission right before he has to meet you. When he shows up in the middle of the night to apologize, you’re more preoccupied over the fact that he’s all bloody and bruised.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, with lots of pining and a little bit of angst. Mentions of violence. One swear word.

A/N: This is my first time posting a fanfic! Please be nice :-)

“And with heart shaped bruises And late night kisses, divine” -Toothpaste Kisses, The Maccabees

Peter watched as you picked up your phone and read whatever it was that made the smile he loved so much fall from your face. “Is something wrong?,” he asked, causing you to look back up at your favorite study buddy. The sunshine from the skylight made his eyes look especially golden from his seat at the library table you had scattered your notes and textbooks across.

“It’s nothing,” you shrugged, sliding your phone back into your pocket. “I was supposed to go to the carnival tonight with some friends, but they all cancelled on me just now.”

“Oh,” Peter said, seeing how disappointed you were. “Well, you could always reschedule, right?”

“Nope. Tonight was the last night,” you sighed, returning to the problem set that you two had been working on all afternoon.

Peter’s heartbeat quickened as he thought about how he could make you feel better. For someone he saw almost everyday, your relationship had never seemed to go past going over your calculus homework or cramming for a quiz in chemistry. “Y/N?,” he asked, “Uh, maybe, I mean...if you want to...Maybe I could go with you to the carnival?”

You immediately perked up and looked at him, your signature smile returning to your face. “Are you serious?,” you giggled, causing the worry to settle back into Peter’s stomach.

“Well, only if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to intrude on your plans and I know I’m just the guy you study with and not actually your friend or anything so—”

“Peter,” you started, grabbing his hand to stop him from rambling to death, “I would love to go to the carnival with you.” He smiled with relief, and you both returned to working on your homework. You thought to yourself about how much you liked how his brown eyes twinkled when he was happy.

“Oh, and by the way,” you said, squeezing his hand in reassurance, “We’re definitely friends, Peter.”

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

By 9 p.m., you finally accepted that Peter had stood you up. Go figure, you thought to yourself. It was silly to think that his offer was anything more than his usual kindness. He was never going to like you the way that you liked him.

Sulking to another episode of Gossip Girl, you perked up when you heard your doorbell ring, hoping it was Peter. To your disappointment, it was just your roommate, who had forgotten her keys. Returning to the couch, you snuggled into the throw blanket, falling asleep to Blair Waldorf’s terrible life decisions.

A crash on your fire escape startled you awake. Checking your phone, you saw that it was nearly 2 a.m., which meant that there was either a very confused bird outside or somebody was trying to murder you. Your anxiety decided that it was the latter, and you scrambled towards the kitchen to find something, anything, to protect yourself from the threat that loomed outside.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice whisper. You crept closer towards the sliding glass doors, clutching the frying pan in your hands with all your might. Who on earth could be trying to meet up with you at this hour?

Relief washed over your body as you pulled back the curtains to find Peter. Even if he had stood you up tonight, it was still better than a murderer. Well, only slightly better. You set the pan down, eyeing him with your arms crossed as he shivered on the cold metal of the fire escape. “Listen, I can explain. Just, please, let me in,” he pleaded, sounding exhausted through the glass.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that he was covered in scrapes and bruises, and you rushed to pull the doors open, dragging him inside towards the couch.

“Oh my god,” you huffed, “What the fuck happened to you? Did you get jumped? Do I need to call the cops? Jeez, that looks like it really hurts,” you rambled on and on, already on your way to the bathroom to rummage for a first aid kit.

You found the white box with the red cross on it under the sink, rushing back towards the couch to get a good look at Peter’s injuries. “Y/N, I’m so sorry for missing the carnival. I know how much you wanted to go and I just want you to know that I really wanted to go too.”

As much as you were upset with him, it was obvious that he had a good excuse for showing up. “Peter. It’s alright. Just tell me what happened to you, okay?”

He turned his head away from your hand, which was gently cleaning the scrape on his forehead. “I can’t,” he muttered.

“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed. I need to know what happened to you.” He said nothing. You sighed in annoyance. “Fine. But come back here and let me finish cleaning you up. I don’t want you to get an infection.”

Peter scooted back towards you, reveling in how pretty you looked in the dim glow of the TV and how warm your hands felt against his skin. He couldn’t understand why or how a girl like you could want anything to do with a loser like him.

He thought about how you had first approached him at the end of a chemistry lecture and asked him if he had wanted to study. He remembered how shocked he was to see that you even knew that he existed. You didn’t need his help. You aced every quiz and exam that was thrown your way, so what was the catch?

It was until you started applying more rubbing alcohol to one of his cuts that he winced and snapped back to reality. He looked at you, seeing your brows furrow with concentration as you worked to make him good as new. You smoothed your pièce de résistance across his cheek, a Mickey Mouse band aid, and your hand lingered against his face for just a little longer than necessary.

It was at that moment that Peter decided to kiss you. By the time you had processed that his lips were against yours, he pulled away to stare at you, immediately regretting his actions. The worry in his expression was obvious, and he started to apologize to you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve asked you first, because consent is super important, but also because I’m pretty sure you would never kiss me in a million years because you’re so pretty and smart and I’m just the dork from your classes and—”

You shut him up with another kiss, running your hands through his soft, messy hair, resting your forehead on his once you had pulled away. “You sure do ramble a lot,” you laughed, looking at his brown eyes and dopey grin. He was utterly speechless, which was just another thing about him that you found unbelievably cute.

Coming out of his daze, he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Y/N,” he started, reluctance creeping into his voice, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?,” you asked, worried that he had changed his mind about being more than friends.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Your eyes widened, everything suddenly making sense. The way he always ran out of classes and study sessions. The way he carried your books around as if they weighed nothing. His unusually close relationship with genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist Tony Stark. He was Spider-Man.

“WHAT!?,” you whisper-screamed. He laughed, pulling you into a perfectly distracting kiss.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

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kay-peawrites · 3 years

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Rock.

You stared at the thick packet sitting on the kitchen counter knowing how much your life could change because of its contents. You had spent the past year filling out applications to Master’s level physiotherapy programs all over the country. You’d been offered a spot at all the programs you’d applied to, but your top choice was the University of Southampton, which arguably offered the best program in the country. Now the envelope from the school in question was sitting in front of you and you weren’t sure if you were ready to see the contents.

“Maybe I should wait until Dom gets home…” you wondered out loud to Chief, your shared German Shepherd pup. Chief lifted his head up from the floor at the sound of your voice and stared back at with you his big brown eyes.

You felt like Dom should be there considering he’d been there every step of the way of your academic journey. You’d met when you first moved to Liverpool to attend university. At the time you were and eighteen-year-old first year and he was a nineteen-year-old boy wonder who’d just signed his first deal with Everton. Fast forward five years to celebrating four years together last month.

You looked over to the framed photograph of the two of you from your Bachelor’s graduation ceremony. The smiles on your faces nearly showcased all of your teeth. Dom was so excited that his “missus” was graduating that he nearly invited every player and staff member at Goodison. You smiled at the memory of him hollering after your name was called, you could even feel the heat rise to your cheeks like it did that day.

The sound of the lock turning brought you out of your reverie. Chief immediately got up and ran to the door to greet Dom. Even though Dom was initially against the idea of getting a dog, he and Chief were now thick as thieves.

“Hey boy, you alrite?” you heard Dom greet your dog. You heard his keys hit the bowl you kept on the front table and the quiet thud of his training bag hit the floor. You always nagged him about leaving his bag by the door instead of in the laundry room. You’d even designated a bin for him to put the clothes in to avoid the smell spreading throughout the house.

“Hello, my love,” you felt a kiss being pressed to your bare shoulder as Dom stood behind you.

“Hi.” you softly replied.

“Is that it then? The last response you’ve been waiting on?” Dom motioned to the envelope in front of you with his chin as he walked around the counter into the kitchen.

“Yeah.” you breathed out, watching as he grabbed a water from the fridge.

“I wanted to wait for you to get home to open it. Seeing as you’ve been there through everything,” you continued.

“Aww, kid. I’m honored that you waited for me.” he leaned over the counter and connected your lips for a short kiss before picking up the envelope and offering it to you to open.

“Wait…” you start before pushing it away, “what happens if I don’t get in?,” you question looking into his hazel eyes.

“Then it’s their loss, we’ll be sad for the night, but we’ll move on because tomorrow’s a new day.” he reassures you.

Dom was confident that you’d gotten accepted, you’re the smartest person he’d ever met. He flashed back to the days of watching you pour over your laptop and textbooks for hours finishing an assignment or studying for an exam. Somehow you always managed to fully support him by coming to games and watching the ones you couldn’t make. He never could figure out how you managed to graduate with honors while dating a famous footballer, but he was proud of you nonetheless.

“What happens if I do get in?” your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“Well missy, I reckon you have a big decision in front of you then.” he replied but he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen.

Southampton wasn’t Liverpool. In fact, it was a little over six hours away. You and Dom had never really discussed the idea of a long distance relationship, but he was willing to try if you were. He’s determined to make it work with you, because he truly believes that you’re the One for him. He would miss you greeting him with cuddles whenever he returned from training or a game, the smell of your cooking, and even your nagging about little things he’d forgotten to do.

Across from him, you were deep in your own thoughts wondering how Dom could be so nonchalant about you possibly moving to Southampton. You moved into his place almost two years ago and with you came little feminine touches throughout his house that he welcomed. A decorative pillow here, a pricey rug there. You’d even convinced him to let you keep a snack cupboard for whenever you were having a bad day or on your period. You weren’t worried about losing Dom or cheating scandals, but you were going to miss having him around. Who else would stay up with you all night helping you study for a final even if he had an early training session the next day? Who would eat Chinese and ice cream with you when you bombed an assignment or an exam? Or down three bottles of red when you aced something?

Dominic was your rock, but what happens when that rock was six hours away?

Author's note: Hello friends, I’m back. Took a little hiatus to focus on school, but summer’s here and my course load is lighter so I’m back to writing. I’ve been reading footballer fanfics for a couple of years, but I’ve never written for any player…..until today. Let me be honest, I’m a huge SIMP for Dominic Calvert-Lewin so why not write for him. Let me know what you think and drop some title suggestions. Should I keep this going??

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #football imagine #football fanfiction #everton #england football imagines #dominic calvert lewin fanfiction

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flowersandskeletons526 · 4 years

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“Doubts” - Lumity Fanfic

This was a short drabble I banged out in a few days so please forgive me if it’s a little shaky or rushed. It has been quite a while since I finished a fanfic

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Amity presses her thumbs together, leaning forward with her elbows on her desk. A textbook sits beside her, untouched for the past three discussion topics, and a pencil rests idly between her fingers. The abomination professor drones on at the front of the room. Were it any other day, her attention would be on him as she diligently took her notes, but not now.

To her right, Luz carefully draws more glyphs in her notepad for future use. Her tongue sticks out the corner of her mouth, and her eyebrows draw together as she finishes another. Amity thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. She watches Luz from the corner of her eye and tries her best to make her staring look like anything else. She counts her lucky stars that the human girl is so fixated on her drawings.

“Miss Blight!” the professor barks. Amity snaps upright and drops her pencil off the side of her desk. The entire class turns to look at her, Luz included, and her face becomes hotter than the surface of the sun. “Is my lecture not interesting enough to warrant your attention?”

Amity swallows hard. “No, sir. I’m sorry.”

The teacher narrows his eyes. “See me after class.”

A chorus of oohs goes up from the class. Luz stares at her quizzically. Amity sets fire to the paper of the boy closest to her and effectively silences all of them.

She forces her eyes to stay forward for the rest of the period. While everyone else leaves, she clutches her books like a shield in front of her and goes to face the professor.

He raises an eyebrow at her. She clenches her jaw. “You haven’t been paying attention in class lately,” he says. “What is going on with you? You’re always a model student.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve just been distracted.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. You’re not very subtle, Miss Blight.”

Her face goes red. “Y-You have?”

“Yes, I have.” He pauses, and Amity’s stomach turns over. “You’re nervous about the exam on Friday!”

Amity feels a weight lift off her shoulders. “Right! The exam! Yes, I am very nervous about that.”

The professor laughs. “With your grades, you don’t have to be. Study like you normally do and you’ll do excellent. As long as you pay attention for the next few days, that is.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Amity spins on her heel and all but runs out of the classroom. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she lets go of a heavy breath. She can’t imagine the embarrassment if her teacher of all people had outed her crush.

She looks up and is greeted with wide brown eyes. “Amity!”

Amity squeaks and falls on her backside. “Can you stop doing that?!” she snaps.

Luz flashes a beautiful bashful smile, grabbing Amity’s scattered books and offering a hand. “Sorry about that,” she laughs. The sound lifts Amity’s heart. “I just wanted to wait for you. Getting held after class is usually my deal.”

Amity sighs. “It’s been a long day.” She reaches for her books.

Luz pulls back. “I’ll carry them for you! Sorry again for scaring you.”

Turning aside, Amity hides her red face. “It’s… fine. Thanks, Luz.”

“Of course!”

Amity starts down the hall with Luz bouncing along beside her. She keeps her head down, hiding her blush and avoiding Luz’s little glances in her direction.

“Hey, so,” Luz begins, “I was looking around some of the old parts of the library and I found a book that I think could help me with finding more glyphs. I don’t really understand some of it, so I was wondering if maybe you could help me look over it?”

“Oh, um, sure! I just need to make up an excuse for my parents.”

“Oh yeah. Owl house is forbidden. Right.” Luz stops in front of Amity, their faces inches apart. Amity’s heart jumps into her throat. “You will come over though?”

“Sure.”

You know it’s not like you hope. Why would it be?

“Awesome! I have to go meet Gus and Willow, but I’ll see you tonight!”

“Y-Yeah…”

Amity takes her books numbly and watches Luz take off down the hall. Her lips curl into a smile as her heart flutters, but the feeling only lasts for a moment. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and heads off to her next class.

---

Sitting in her window, Amity pulls her legs to her chest and rests her head on her knees. The day had continued to crept by, and she has yet to find an excuse to sneak away to the owl house. It’s not like she can tell them she’s going to visit the wanted criminal and the human witch.

Amity takes a breath and steels her resolve. A simple illusion spell shouldn’t be too hard, just enough for her to sneak out and sneak back in unnoticed. She runs headfirst into Edric and Emira standing outside her door.

“Going somewhere, Mittens?” Edric chirps.

“Study group,” Amity says, “if you two would get out of my way.”

“Study with who?” Emira asks.

“Friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, friends.”

Edric grins. “It’s the human, isn’t it?”

Amity bristles, going bright red as she looks down. The twins share a look. She rubs the back of her neck and swallows her pride. “Will you two please, y’know, cover for me? I just can’t-”

“Mittens, we get it.” Emira’s smug grin softens. “If you wanted to go hang out with your girlfriend, you could’ve just said so. I mean, study group? You couldn’t come up with something better?”

“S-She’s not my girlfriend!” Amity splutters.

“With the way you two were at Grom? Could have fooled me.”

“That wasn’t, I mean, we were just… ugh, shut up! And we are studying. I’m helping her understand a textbook.” She sighs and bites the inside of her cheek. “She doesn’t know, okay? And if either of you tell her, I’m going to drown you both!”

Edric puts his hands up. “Hey, we’re not that cruel!”

Emira smirks. “And it’s not like we need to. If she hasn’t caught on by now, I don’t think she would believe us if we spelled it in twenty foot tall letters.”

“Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle.”

Amity sighs. “That’s the second time I’ve been told that today.”

If she hasn’t noticed by now, she doesn’t want to.

“We’re not surprised.” Edric ruffles her hair and nudges her down the hall. “We’ll cover.”

“Be home before nine,” Emira adds.

“Thanks, guys.”

Amity gives them a grateful smile before hurrying out of the mansion. She does her best to keep out of sight until the owl house comes into view. Thoughts of Luz pop into her head, from her cheerful grin to her sparkling eyes to her excessive affection. She thinks of Luz’s hands on her waist as she catches her and spins her around. She thinks of pressing her face to Luz’s neck as she carries her to the healer’s. Her mind conjures the thought of Luz holding onto her, hands cupping her face as her chest tightens and their lips meet and-

Amity stumbles.

You’re making a fool of yourself.

Shaking her head, she squashes her racing heart and approaches the house. She somehow manages to forget about the bird tube until it flies out of the door at her.

“Hiiii Amity! Luz is inside!”

Amity squawks and falls back. Growling, she lifts a leg to kick the stupid guardian in the face.

“Hooty! Stop it!” Luz waves him away, and he retreats back into the door. Flashing that sparkling smile, she takes Amity’s hand and pulls her to her feet. “Sorry about him.”

“I told you, I’m going to destroy it the next time it talks to me,” Amity snarls.

Luz laughs nervously and takes Amity’s hands in hers, stopping her from casting any spells. Amity’s face grows hot as she avoids those wide puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, how about we save the destruction for another day?”

“Next time you’re not stopping me.”

“Heard. Come on!”

Luz pulls her inside and leads her to her bedroom. She plops down on a mat in the middle of the floor. Amity sits beside her.

“I still don’t understand how you sleep here,” she remarks.

“It’s really not that bad,” Luz says. She opens a dusty book with a cracked cover in her lap. “I’m guessing it doesn’t compare to Blight Mansion, though.”

Amity shrugs. “You’d be surprised.”

Luz hums, drumming her fingers on the book. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is your family the reason you work so hard to be top student?”

Amity sighs and pulls her knees up to her chest. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah.” Luz bumps their shoulders together and offers a gentle smile. “I’ve got you.”

Amity smiles. “So, this is the book you wanted to show me?”

“Oh, yeah!” She brushes off the cover and opens it to a brittle yellow page marked with a folded up drawing of King. “So, I was looking it over and found all these weird drawings in it, but I can’t really understand the captions. This one sort of looks like the glyph for fire magic but it doesn’t quite fit, and this one I tried to draw but it didn’t do anything and the picture is faded so maybe I just didn’t…”

Amity can’t quite focus as Luz goes on. She finds herself staring as Luz’s eyes shine, alight with curiosity and excitement that lifts Amity’s heart. Resting her head on her knees, she watches Luz ramble, not listening in the slightest until Luz stops.

“Hey, Amity, you listening?”

“Hm? Oh! Sorry, I got distracted.”

“Man, you’re spacey today.”

“A little.”

Luz scoots closer. Amity freezes. Planting one hand behind the green haired girl, Luz leans over her shoulder and balances the book on their legs pressed together. “This is the one I couldn’t get. I tried drawing it but it didn’t do anything.”

“What does it do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re going to blow yourself up. Again.”

“Maybe!”

Amity laughs and looks at the page. “I can’t really tell. Maybe try drawing in more lines?”

“I don’t know if that will work, though. I don’t think they’ll do anything if I don’t draw them exactly right.”

“How do you draw them?”

“Here! I’ll show you.” Discarding the book, she grabs her pad and pencil and places that on Amity’s knee instead. “This is the light glyph that I showed you the first time. You just draw the circle and make a few shapes, add these lines, and once it’s done, you press it.”

She taps the drawing. The paper curls up into a ball of light that rises into the air above them. Amity watches, awestruck despite the simplicity of the spell. Luz sets the pencil on her leg and draws her back in.

“You try.”

“Okay.”

Amity draws the circle and makes the shapes, adds the lines and then erases them as Luz’s correction. She presses one finger into the center of the drawing. It glows and rises between them. Luz cups the light in her hand like she’s holding the sun, right beside Amity’s heart, and lifts it up to her. It casts gentle shadows across her face.

She grins. “Magic.”

Their eyes lock. Amity’s mouth outpaces her mind and readies her tongue before she can stop it. “Hey, Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever feel like you’re doing the wrong thing?”

Her grin disappears. Amity wishes she had kept her mouth shut. Luz lowers her head, but she doesn’t pull away. “I do. A lot. I… don’t really fit in, in the human world. They think I’m weird. I’m not actually supposed to be here. My mom thinks I’m at a camp that will teach me how to act normal.”

“Humans have that?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how I’m going to explain all this to her when I go back and I haven’t changed like she wants me to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do have to go back eventually, Amity. I don’t want to, but I can’t disappear on her once the summer is over.”

Amity’s stomach drops.

You aren’t from the same world. You always forget that.

“I meant you don’t have to change.”

Luz looks up. Their faces are inches apart. Amity cages the butterflies in her stomach and takes a deep breath.

“I like you the way you are. I wouldn’t ever want you to change.”

Luz doesn’t respond. She presses her face against Amity’s shoulder and sighs. Amity wraps an arm around her shoulders. She closes her eyes and buries her face in Luz’s hair, trying to keep her composure as the human girl shifts until she’s practically laying on Amity’s chest.

“I like you, too,” Luz mumbles. “You’re my best friend.”

Ouch.

“You’re mine, too.” Amity holds her tighter. “You fit in here.”

“Amity.” Luz untangles from their embrace and lifts her head. “Do you ever feel like you’re going the wrong way?”

Amity avoids Luz’s eyes. “I go where I’m supposed to. Right or wrong doesn’t matter.”

“But what if you could choose?”

Luz catches Amity’s gaze and holds it. Everything feels too warm between them, and Amity struggles to align her thoughts. She could hardly function with Luz simply smiling at her, and now here they are, inches apart with Luz refusing to let her look away.

“I would want to come here.”

“I want that, too.”

Without warning, Luz cups Amity’s cheek and presses their lips together. Amity bristles, eyes wide and disbelieving before she finally relaxes into the kiss. Her hands find Luz’s waist as Luz tangles her fingers in her hair.

They stay close together when they break apart. Amity watches Luz with her eyes half closed as she holds her tight.

“I like you,” Luz says. “I want to stay here with you. I don’t want to go.”

Amity tilts her head. Her face burns red as she presses another gentle peck to Luz’s lips. “You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do.” Luz closes her eyes. “This is a bad idea, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

She’ll only have to leave in the end.

“Do you think we can just stay here for now? No more picking where we have to go?”

You know that.

“Okay.”

You’ll only get hurt.

Amity focuses on the girl in her arms, fears and paths and goodbyes and magic set aside for the moment. Luz wraps her arms around Amity’s neck and pulls them as close together as possible. Amity’s face burns. Her heart hammers away in her chest and drowns out all the doubts in her mind. She kisses the top of Luz’s head, and the human girl giggles against her chest. She grins. She can barely hear the nagging voice in the back of her mind, but still, she closes her eyes and prays.

Please, don’t let this hurt.

#lumity #the owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house amity #amity blight #amityxluz #toh #edric blight #emira blight #edric and emira #first kiss #sort of angsty

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thedivinescorpio · 4 years

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Sleepy Study Session | Tsukishima x Reader

Genre: fluffy fluff

This is my first Tsukki scenario hehe~

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“If you divide 12 by 2 then raise it to the power of 2, what do you get for X?” The blonde wrote the equation down on the piece of lined paper with a whole lot of other attempts.

“That’s so easy. It’s 36″ You said fumbling with his little plastic dinosaur toy.

“Good. So now you want to multiply x, being 36, by one fourth to get Y. What do you get?” Tsukishima has been tutoring you for two hours now.

Math wasn’t your best subject. In fact it was your worst. Tomorrow was your math final and you were having difficulties grasping a few units.You were much better at literature. He enjoyed hearing the poems you created and sometimes the boy would come to you for guidance.

“Tsukki~ Can we please take a break?” You groan throwing your body on his bed and hiding under the covers.

“Y/N, you’re almost done. You only have 5 more problems left. I still have to study for my exam” He sighed placing his pencil on his desk.

“Then study for your exam Kei.” You muffled in his pillow that had a faint scent of fresh linen.

“You can finish yours in less than thirty minutes. Fifteen if you don’t pause to look at your phone. Plus, you’re getting the hang of it. If you stop now you’ll become dumb like Hinata” He said walking over to his bed and attempted to lift the covers off you.

“Hinata isn’t even dumb. I just want ten minutes of rest pleassee. My brain hurts~” You peeked an eye out only to see his face inches away from yours. Blood starts running to your cheeks producing a light blush your face. Once again you conceal yourself under his blankets.

Suddenly, your body gets exposed to the chilly air in Tsukishima’s room. “If you don’t get up now, I’m not tutoring you anymore,” a hint of annoyance could be noted as he went back to his desk to prepare the remaining math problems you had to do.

Tsukishima gets annoyed easily sometimes. He can be too salty especially to his volleyball teammates. With you he tries his best to ease his snarky comments knowing how sensitive you could be. Tsukishima was most patient when it came to you. He’s sweet that way. It’s not always easy for him to show affection, but it’s the little things he did for you that showed he cared. That’s what you liked about him.

“Anymore? Like ever?” You sat up and pouted at the boy.

“Ever.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue and turned around to open his notebook.

“Okay fine” You sighed walking back almost in a somnambulatory manner. A smirk formed on his face as he closed his notebook. You sat on the extra chair next to his desk.

Like he said it only took you both twenty minutes to finish your remaining practice problems. The way he explained the process of solving the mathematical problem made more sense than when your teacher taught it to the class.

When you finished studying Tsukishima immediately started his own work while listening to the playlist he made for studying. For the time being he wasn’t paying attention to you, which was fine. You knew he needed this time to focus on his own work. And instead of going back to the bed you remained in your seat.

You laid your arms on the table while resting your head on the top of your forearms. Your eyes gazed Tsukishima’s face admiring his fair skin with little to no blemishes. It’s quite surprising considering he sweats almost everyday during his practice. His golden honey colored eyes scanned the textbook in front of him and his hand swiftly wrote down notes in his notebook. His blonde locks were placed so perfectly on the top of his head.

Seeing Tsukishima so focused was adorable. He’s always focused but it’s just something really admirable about him. He knew you were simply staring at him but held back from getting distracted. More than he wanted to study, the boy wanted to hold you in his arms while you both rested on his bed.

“You’re so smart Tsukki~” You mumbled as your eyes became heavy. You fell asleep in the exact same position you were just intently watching him in. The amount of brain power you utilized engulfed too much of your limited energy.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked over at you as he finished his work. He grinned as he saw soft snores escape from your nose and mouth and your (h/c) hair slightly covering your face.

“How silly” he chuckled lowly removing his headphones and stood up from his desk chair. Tsukishima walked over to you and picked you up and placed you on his bed gently. He pulled the covers over your body before quickly organizing both yours and his books.

All well and done, he took off his glasses and finally slipped under the covers next to you and wrapped his muscular arms around your waist before pulling your body closer to his.

A soft grin was planted on his face. This moment felt really special to him, seeing you all tired despite how energetic you are during school hours and the walk home.

He gave you a soft kiss on your lips and forehead. “You’re so cute Y/N~” he whispered before he closed his eyes and fell into a light slumber.

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Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want more like it! This is my first haikyuu scenario but this one was really fun to make :) I’ve always wondered what it would be like studying with Tsukishima... We love a soft tsukki fanfic hehe <3

#tsukishima #tsukishima kei #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima one shot #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima haikyuu #imagines blog #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima fluff #fluff #haikyu fanfiction

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rimmers-swimming-certificate · 4 years

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Red Dwarf fanfic - Comatose (19/19)

Here it is finally

Sorry to be so late posting this. I know I said Friday, but stuff happened, and... well, it’s here now. The final part. Enjoy!

Lister waved a hand over the sensor by the door, and it slid open. Rimmer didn’t seem to have moved since earlier that afternoon when Lister had left. He was still sitting at the desk, positioned to give himself a good view of the room’s display monitor. He sat leaning forward in his chair, gaze fixated on the screen, which displayed black text on a white background. It looked like a scan of a study textbook, which made sense actually, since that was exactly what it was.

The desk in front of Rimmer was empty. When he had used to study, when he had been alive, his desk had been filled with study paraphernalia. There had been brand new pens, pencils, and highlighters lined up like soldiers standing to attention, there had been notepads purchased from the onboard shop, titled with study topics in Rimmer’s beautiful calligraphy, but completely empty of notes. Later, as the exam approached, learning drugs and other illegal study aids might appear.

Now, Rimmer couldn’t study that way anymore, and there was nothing but an empty desk. Rimmer stared at the screen with a glazed look in his eye, lips moving silently as he read the words on the page under his breath.

Quietly, Lister moved behind him and looked at the screen over his shoulder. It was about as interesting as he had expected, which was to say, not at all. “Good book?” he asked.

Rimmer flinched in surprise. He turned to shoot an irritated look at Lister before returning his attention to the screen. “Whatever it is you want, Lister, bother me with it another time. I’m busy.” He sighed. “Oh great. Now you’ve made me lose my place.”

Lister shrugged. It wasn’t a particularly long page, it didn’t look like it would be too much effort to find it again. “Can we talk about something?” he asked

Rimmer turned to glance at him again. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Talk about what?” he asked.

Lister didn’t say anything. Instead, he folded his arms and waited for Rimmer to notice the ‘H’ on his forehead that definitely hadn’t been there earlier that day.

“Lister, what?” Rimmer asked him, clearly exasperated. “And must you stand right there? You know I don’t like people lurking behind me.”

“I’m not lurking,” Lister told him. He took a step to the left, placing himself no longer directly behind Rimmer, and continued to wait. Rimmer continued to be oblivious.

After a moment, Rimmer gave an exasperated shake of his head, and turned back to the screen. He raised a finger into the air in front of his face and began to move it slowly from left to right as he scoured the page for his place. “I don’t remember any of this,” he said. “Holly, did you turn the page without me telling you to?”

The page disappeared completely, and Holly appeared on the screen instead. She shook her head from side to side. “No, ‘course not. You’ve been staring at that same page for half an hour, how do you not remember any of it?”

“Holly, go away!” Rimmer told her. He waved his arms in a ‘shoo’ motion. “How am I supposed to study when you keep appearing like that?”

“You did ask a question,” Lister said. “What did you expect?”

“And you can smeg off too,” Rimmer told him. “This is hard enough as it is, and you’re really not helping. What’s next, Cat turning up? Kryten deciding it’s the perfect time to polish the furniture?”

Lister sighed. This was getting nowhere. “Did you notice anything different about me?” he tried.

With Holly gone, the screen once again displayed the text book, and Rimmer continued to point with one finger, not taking his eye off of whichever word he was up to. “Yes,” he said. “Now that you mention it, I do. Did you finally have your annual bath? I know you missed it while you were in your coma.”

Lister rolled his eyes. “No, smeghead. I’m…” He shook his head. Sometimes it was better to show than to tell. He reached across to tap Rimmer on the shoulder, then hesitated. Rimmer didn’t do well with unexpected physical contact, and the last thing he wanted was for him to run off again.

At the sudden pause in conversation, Rimmer’s pointing finger dropped from the screen, and he turned to see what was happening. His gaze immediately fell on Lister’s hand hovering awkwardly in the air a few inches from Rimmer’s shoulder. He frowned in confusion. “Er, Lister? What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Lister grinned nervously and allowed his hand to drop to his side. “I mean, I was going to tap you on the shoulder,” he admitted, “but I changed my mind.”

Rimmer frowned. His eyes moved from Lister’s hand to his face. His gaze settled just above eye level, and his eyes widened in surprise as he finally saw it, and realised what was going on.

Lister folded his arms. “You’re not the most observant of people, are you Rimmer?” he said. “How many times did you look at me before it finally clicked?”

Rimmer didn’t reply. Instead, he continued to stare at Lister’s forehead with a shocked expression on his face. His mouth moved silently, not forming any words, as though he was trying to think of something to say.

Lister spread his arms a little awkwardly and grinned nervously. “Surprise…”

“You…” Rimmer said. He continued to stare with an expression of confusion and shock. “You’re…” he tried again.

Lister shrugged and nodded. “Yeah.”

Without taking his eyes off Lister, Rimmer got to his feet. He reached out a hand, moving slowly and hesitantly, as though he didn’t quite trust what he was seeing, like he thought it could be some kind of a prank and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. He jabbed a finger into Lister’s chest, then recoiled in shock the moment he made contact. “What happened?” he asked. Suddenly, his eyes were wide with concern.

Lister frowned. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? What happened? Was it something to do with the head injury? Did you have another seizure? What did the medi-comp say?”

Oh. Oh no. Lister shook his head quickly as he tried to find the words to explain that Rimmer had misunderstood, that Lister had decided to do this for himself, that nothing bad had happened. “No, I…” he began.

“Are you… Is your body still alive? Or…?” the question trailed off into silence, as though he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

At that last question, Lister immediately stopped shaking his head and nodded instead. “Yes,” he said quickly. “It’s… I’m still… I’m fine. Relax, Rimmer, nothing happened. I just asked Kryten to put me back into a hologram for a couple of days, that’s all.”

Rimmer’s concern turned back into confusion. “What?”

“My body’s down in the medi-bay. Kryten’s going to keep an eye on it for me, but he says it’ll be fine for a couple of days if he just puts it on a drip and makes sure it gets fluids.”

“Wait?” Rimmer said. “You mean to tell me you did this on purpose?”

“Well…” Lister shrugged, “yeah.”

“Right.” Rimmer shook his head. “So, do you want to tell me what the smeg you were thinking?”

Lister hesitated. He had reasons, good reasons. He just wasn’t sure how Rimmer was going to feel about them. “I thought it’d be nice,” he said.

“Nice?” Rimmer shook his head. “For who, exactly?”

Lister shrugged. “You. Me. Both of us, really. I thought it might be like a little holiday; you know, a couple of days on the Costa del Smeg.” He smiled nervously.

The moment he said it, he knew he had done something wrong. Rimmer’s expression became unreadable. “A holiday?” he repeated. “A holiday? Well, I’m glad you found being a hologram so much fun, Lister, but quite frankly, that’s a little insulting.”

“It wasn’t the ‘being a hologram’ part that was…” Lister broke off and frowned. “Hang on, what? Why is it?”

“Because this is my life,” Rimmer told him. “Or the closest thing I have to it, anyway. I don’t have the option of switching back and forth between human and hologram. I’m stuck like this. Forever. So forgive me if it doesn’t exactly seem like a holiday to me.”

Smeg. It occurred to Lister that he should probably have thought about what he was going to say to Rimmer instead of just winging it. Or maybe given him some kind of warning instead of just showing up like this. He sighed. “Okay, yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that though. And come on, Rimmer, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought you’ve been a bit on edge recently, and maybe you were missing being able to touch someone.”

He reached out slowly, making sure that Rimmer could see what he was doing, and placed a hand carefully on his arm. Rimmer looked down at it, then placed his own hand on top of it. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I haven’t been ‘on edge’, Lister, and if I have it’s because I’m trying to study, and people keep interrupting me. I was perfectly okay before you were a hologram, and I’m perfectly okay now you’re back in your body. You didn’t have as much of an effect on me as you seem to think.”

“Right,” Lister shrugged. “Fair enough. So, how come you’re still holding on to my hand, then?”

Rimmer looked down at his hand for long enough to confirm that it was indeed still touching Lister’s, then pulled it away and folded his arms, knocking Lister’s hand free. “You can’t just do this, you know,” he said.

“Why not?” Lister asked.

“Well, I mean, of course you can do it, because you did. But you shouldn’t. Is it even safe? What if something went wrong?”

Lister shrugged. “What could go wrong? It’s safe. Kryten said so.”

“Well that’s me reassured,” Rimmer said sarcastically. “If the resident lavatory attendant’s happy with it, I’m sure it’s fine. I mean, it’s nothing important, only your mind.”

“Aww, Rimmer, I didn’t know you cared,” Lister said. “Relax. We never had any problems before, and we’ve done it quite a few times now.”

“Yes, but all those times we only did it because we had no other choice,” Rimmer reminded him. “We switched your mind for Carol Brown’s because we thought the ship was going to blow up. We placed you in a hologramatic copy of your body because you’d been in a coma for half a year and we didn’t know whether you were ever going to recover. It’s very delicate technology, it’s not some video game that you can log in and play whenever it takes your fancy.”

“Okay,” Lister shook his head. “Fine. So what about the time I lent you my body? Or the time you stole it and did a runner? Or the time you stole Cat’s for that matter? They were all totally necessary, no-other-choice type situations were they?”

Rimmer looked away. “Look, we already established I did some things I’m not proud of back then. But that’s no reason to put yourself at risk now, is it?”

“I’m not,” Lister told him. “It’s safe, honestly.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Smeg! It is. I’m not an idiot, Rimmer. I wouldn’t do it if it was dangerous.”

Rimmer stared at him for a moment, thoughtfully. “Okay, fine,” he said. “But even if it is totally safe, I don’t…” he shook his head, turned and paced across the room and back. “I don’t get it. Why would you want to subject yourself to that? What’s the point?”

It wasn’t as much of an ordeal as Rimmer seemed to think. Of course, it was going to be a lot easier knowing that he could return to his body any time he wanted. As Rimmer had reminded him, he didn’t have that luxury. But that was one of the reasons Lister had done it. “I told you the point,” he said. “Because I thought it’d be good for both of us.”

Rimmer shook his head incredulously. “Right. So, what’s the plan? You’re a hologram for a couple of days, and then what?”

“What do you mean?”

Rimmer walked across the room, putting a short distance between them, then turned around to look at Lister. He took a couple of steps closer, but remained at a distance. “Okay, look,” he said. “This stays between us, alright?”

Lister frowned. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m only telling you this because you’ve got some idea what it’s like. I don’t want you blabbing to Kryten, or worse, to Cat, about it.”

“Yeah, okay Rimmer.” Lister folded his arms and nodded in agreement. “I won’t say a word. What?”

“You’re right,” said Rimmer. “I have been a bit on edge.”

Lister did his best not to smirk. “Well, I hate to tell you this, Rimmer, but that’s not exactly the best-guarded secret in the universe. I think they might have noticed.”

“Yes, well you’re right about why, too.”

They already knew that as well. Of course, they already knew because Lister had already told them, but that had been before Rimmer had asked him not to. He decided not to share that particular piece of information. “Okay.”

Rimmer sighed deeply and sank back into the chair behind the desk where he had been trying to study. “It’s been… difficult. Readjusting. I feel like I did when I first died… well, when I was first a hologram. I mean, it’s not quite as bad, because I already know how to deal with a lot of the things I used to find frustrating, but it’s bad enough.”

Lister nodded. “So you are missing it,” he said.

“No. Yes…” Rimmer shook his head. “Yes, of course I am. But that’s only part of it. What’s worse is I keep… reaching for things. Forgetting, just for a second. And every time I do, It feels like…” he broke off and shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense, it’s not like I was able to touch anything other than you. It’s like being able to touch anything at all has just confused my brain. I was used to being a hologram, and now it’s like I’m not anymore.”

Lister winced. He placed a hand on Rimmer’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Sorry,” he said.

“So, maybe you’re right. Maybe it would be nice to experience physical contact again. In fact, not ‘maybe’, of course it would be. But when you finish your ‘holiday’ and go back to your body, what then? I go back to not being able to touch again. How does that help anything?”

“Because then I’ll do it again,” Lister told him. “We could make it a regular thing. Every couple of months maybe. Or more often. Once a month?”

Rimmer shook his head. “And every time you do it, it’ll only remind me of what I don’t have. It would be easier if you would just let me get used to it again.”

Lister frowned. “Get used to what? Not being able to touch anything ever?”

“Yes.”

“That’s no way to live, Rimmer. Not when you don’t have to.”

Rimmer got back to his feet. “But I do have to,” he said. “And it never bothered you before. You were perfectly content with the way things were for years before any of this happened. Five years, Lister. Not once did you try to do anything to make it better.”

Lister sighed. “I know,” he said. “I didn’t get it then. And anyway, I never even knew this was possible until it happened.”

“And if you had known, I’m sure you’d have been first in line to volunteer, wouldn’t you?” Rimmer said sarcastically.

Lister didn’t reply.

“No, of course you wouldn’t.”

“Because I didn’t get it then. I do now.”

“Right. So you’re doing this out of some kind of a misguided sense of obligation.”

That wasn’t it. Lister shook his head.

“Yes you are. I don’t want that. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me.”

Lister shook his head again. “I don’t,” he said. He did, a bit, but he didn’t think that would be a useful thing to say. “Look, Rimmer, this is as much about me as it is about you.”

“How is it?”

“Because I miss it too!” Lister blurted.

Rimmer frowned dubiously. “You do? Don’t be ridiculous, Lister. You have a completely functional body, well, apart from the taste buds. Don’t pretend you miss physical contact.”

Lister shook his head. “I don’t,” he said. “But I do miss being able to touch you.” He cringed internally as he heard himself say that. A year ago, he would have been horrified at himself. Now, it was just a fact. A really embarrassing fact, but since they were sharing…

Rimmer frowned.

“I keep waking up in the middle of the night and reaching for you,” Lister continued. “And then I remember that you’re not there, and that even if you were, I wouldn’t be able to touch you.”

“Yes, well that’s what being a hologram is like, Lister. That’s what being me is like all the time.”

Lister sighed. He sat down heavily on the bottom bunk, which didn’t move under the non-existent weight of his hologramatic body. Unconsciously, his hand moved to his forehead and he brushed the smooth surface of his ‘H’ with the tips of his fingers. “I know it is,” he said. “It sucks.”

“Yes, well that’s what I’ve been telling you for years.”

“But what I don’t get is, here’s a way to make it suck less. So why aren’t you jumping at the chance?”

“Because how long would it last for?” Rimmer asked. “I mean I’m sure you’d start off meaning well enough. You’ll do a few days now, maybe do it again in a month or so, and then again. But then, eventually something will happen on the day you were planning on doing it, and it’ll get put off.”

Lister frowned. “What could happen?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Anything. There’s always some crisis or another around here. Some life threatening disaster or minor irritation, whatever it is, it’ll mean you have to put it off.”

“That’s fine, I could just do it another time,” Lister told him.

“I knew you’d say that. Just do it next week or something, only something else comes up and it gets put off again.”

Lister shook his head. “Rimmer, the only time any of this is going to happen is in your head.”

“Not necessarily, and what if it keeps happening?”

“What, every week?”

“And before you know it, it’s been a year since you last got around to doing it, by which time you’ve forgotten about the whole thing and just got used to things being the way they used to be, so you don’t bother.”

Lister had to give it to Rimmer, he had a very good imagination when it came to crappy things happening to him. “I won’t do that,” he promised.

“No, you probably wouldn’t,” Rimmer agreed. “Knowing you, most likely you’d realise it’s been a year, feel bad about it, and turn up here as a hologram again, just as I’m getting used to the idea that it’s over. And after that, then you’d never do it again.

Lister stared at him in disbelief. “Smeg. You really think I’m selfish scum, don’t you?”

“It’s nothing personal, Lister. I assume that about everybody. It’s just common sense; always assume the worst, and they’ll never let you down.”

Lister rested his head in his hand and shook it from side to side. “Look, I promise I won’t do that, okay? I swear.” Lister said.

Rimmer sat back down at his desk. and began trying to find his place again. “You can’t possibly know that, Lister.”

He supposed that technically that was true, but he definitely didn’t intend to do that. Rimmer was staring intently at the display monitor again, lips no longer moving as he read, but attention definitely focussed there. Too focussed there, actually, to the point that it looked as though he was putting all his efforts into looking like he was reading.

Lister sighed. One last try, and then he would give up. If Rimmer really didn’t want it, he wasn’t going to force it on him. “Come on, Rimmer,” he said. “Don’t be like this.”

“The only thing I’m being is busy, Lister. I have an exam to revise for.”

“But you can do that anytime, right? We’re the only ones here, so it’s not like the promotion board are around to set an exam date. I’m sure you can afford a break.”

Rimmer shook his head. “I’ve already set the date,” he said. “If I’m not ready, I’ll have to wait another six months. And I’m not due a break. Not until…” He stopped and sighed loudly.

“Until when?” Lister asked.

Rimmer scowled at a piece of paper that had been blu-tacked to the wall at an awkward angle with a single blob of blu-tack. Lister could see that it contained a badly drawn grid in smudged pencil on white paper. Each square of the grid had something written in it, but the sides of the paper were beginning to curl into the middle for want of a few extra pieces of blu-tack, making it difficult to see the squares at the sides. “I don’t even know when I’m due a break, actually, because I had to rely on the skutters to make a revision timetable. I ask you Lister, how am I supposed to learn anything when my revision timetable looks like that?”

Lister got up from the bunk and leaned in to examine the timetable on the wall. Granted, the handwriting wasn’t as neat as Rimmer’s had used to be, and sometimes strayed over the lines, but then he had seen actual printed books where the writing wasn’t as neat as Rimmer’s had used to be. Rimmer’s revision timetables had always been colour coded, this was strictly monochrome, and there was definitely no shading growing increasingly dark as the exam got closer, but it looked as though it would do the job. He shrugged. “Looks okay,” he said. “I mean, considering we’re talking about robots that can’t even figure out how to pick up a jigsaw piece without a half hour’s coaching.”

“It’s a mess,” Rimmer complained. “Look at it, and tell me what I’m supposed to be revising right now. You can’t, can you? You can’t even tell whether I’m supposed to be revising at all. For all I know, this could be my scheduled recreation time, and I could be missing it because of their shoddy timetabling.

Lister shrugged. “They only do what…” he began, then stopped. They might only do what they were told to do, but that didn’t mean that any errors were necessarily down to the one giving the instructions. The skutters could be maliciously literal. “Why do you even need a revision timetable anyway?” Lister asked. “Don’t you just revise the stuff you need to know?”

“Yes,” Rimmer told him, “But I need to come at it in a structured way.”

“I never bothered with a revision timetable,” said Lister.

Rimmer fixed him with a withering look. “Well you wouldn’t have, would you? When have you ever revised for anything in your entire life?”

“Hey! I have!” Lister told him.

“When?”

He thought about it. “When I did the chefs exam,” he said.

“You failed!”

“Yeah, but I still revised. And when I was at school, I took all my exams there.”

Rimmer nodded, “But you told me you failed them too.”

“I did. Doesn’t mean I didn’t revise for them though, does it?”

“It means you didn’t revise very effectively. Maybe a revision timetable would have helped.”

It occurred to Lister that it would be very easy to say something cruel at that remark, something about how much good it had done Rimmer, the nine times he had failed his exam despite his perfect, colour coded timetable and impeccable handwriting. He didn’t. Instead, he shrugged, and reached for the piece of paper tacked to the wall, intending to redistribute the blu-tack so that at least Rimmer could see it.

His hand passed through it, the tips of his fingers sinking into the wall. The unexpected lack of contact with the wall threw him momentarily off-kilter, and he stumbled half a step forward before he managed to balance himself.

“Forgot about that aspect of your ‘holiday’ did you?” Rimmer said with a tight smile.

Lister shoved his hand in his pocket, embarrassed.

“That serves you right, you know,” Rimmer told him.

Lister grinned. “Yeah, probably. I was trying to help you out, for the record.”

“Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me Lister, I’m supposed to be studying this for another half an hour.” Rimmer hesitated. “Or another half a day. It’s not clear.” He looked back to the screen. “Holly, next page please.”

The display turned to another almost identical looking screen and Lister sighed. He felt very silly. Like some idiot who had made himself into a hologram in the hopes of getting a hug.

“Ok, yeah,” he said. “I’ll ask Kryten to transfer me back.”

Rimmer flinched; a small, barely perceptible movement. He turned to look at Lister. “What?” he asked.

“Back to my body,” Lister clarified.

He saw Rimmer’s eyes flicker from the screen, to Lister and back again several times, before finally settling on Lister. “But you’ve only been a hologram for five minutes. You said a few days.”

Lister folded his arms. “That was when I thought you might stop revising and do something fun. If you’re just going to be sitting there reading the whole time, what’s the point?”

“But…” Rimmer said. “I mean… you’ve done it now. You might as well stick with it for a bit.”

“Stick with it?” Lister shook his head. “Why? You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want me to.”

Rimmer sighed. “Yes, well. That’s true. All of it. But since you’ve gone and done it now, hadn’t you might as well just stay as you are?”

Lister sighed. “Why?”

“Because… Well, because…” Rimmer folded his arms, unfolded them, then folded them again, then sighed. “Because I want you to,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Rimmer told him through gritted teeth. “Well done, you win. I’d just appreciate a bit of notice next time, please.”

Lister hadn’t been trying to win anything, but he would take his victories where he could find them. “So, you want there to be a next time as well, do you?”

Rimmer sighed. “Of course I do. You don’t have to rub it in. A bit of notice this time would have been nice too, by the way. I mean, you must have known when you got up this afternoon that you were going to do this. You probably knew last night too, since I know for a fact that you never come up with schemes within the first few hours of waking up.”

“Schemes?”

“That’s why you were acting oddly last night, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t acting oddly,” Lister told him. He cast his mind back to the night before, searching his memory for anything that Rimmer might have seen as odd. “Was I?”

Rimmer shook his head in disbelief. “You didn’t have anything to drink, for a start,” he said. “Ever since Kryten told you you could drink again, you’ve barely stopped. And you went to bed early. Well, early for you. And before that, you were asking me a lot of strange questions, about how I was feeling and things. So yes, you were acting oddly. In fact, you’ve been acting progressively more oddly for the past week.” He frowned as a thought appeared to dawn on him. “Wait, did you decide to do this a week ago?”

Lister shrugged. “Might have.”

“And in all that time, it never occurred to you to tell me about it? Maybe run it by me, see what I thought to the idea?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Lister told him.

“Well, I don’t like surprises,” Rimmer told him. “I never have.”

That shouldn’t have surprised Lister, actually. Rimmer wasn’t exactly known for his spontaneity.

“Come on,” he said. “Everyone likes surprises. Well, good ones, anyway.”

“Not me,” Rimmer told him. He shook his head. “Not since my seventh birthday.”

Lister sighed. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but what happened?”

Rimmer got up and walked across the room in a few steps, then stopped, turned, and walked back. “It’s a long story,” he said.

Lister shrugged. “Rimmer, you know you’re going to tell me eventually. I’m like a dog with a bone with this stuff. If you don’t tell me, I’m just going to keep asking you until you do.”

“Fine.” Rimmer paced the room again. “It was my birthday. I’d just turned seven years old, and I was so excited, but all day long my parents pretended to have forgotten. It was okay though, because I could tell that something was going on. They were whispering about something, and whenever I walked in the room, they would stop. My dad even came home with a cake from a local bakery. The one that made the best cakes. The ones for really special occasions.”

Lister chewed on one of his fingernails as he listened.

“I played along with the ruse, of course,” Rimmer continued. “Acted like it was just an ordinary day and I had no idea they were up to anything. I did my homework, I helped my mother tidy up the house so it would be ready for everybody arriving. I didn’t once mention that it was my birthday. Anyway, It turned out I was right, something was going on. Do you know what it was?”

Lister shook his head. “Normally, I’d guess a surprise party,” he said. “But judging by all the build up, probably something else.”

“No, you’re right,” Rimmer said. “It was a surprise party, it just wasn’t for me. It was for my brothers.”

“Eh?” Lister frowned. “Rimmer, no matter how many stories you tell me about your childhood, I’m never going to stop being baffled.”

“It does make sense, actually,” Rimmer told him. “My birthday fell very close to the end of one of the Ionian school terms. We’d all brought our report cards home the week before, and my brothers had all finished at the top of their classes. So as a reward, our parents had decided to throw a party for them. They invited a few kids from each of their classes, got a cake, hired a bouncy castle, played games. Unfortunately, I wasn’t doing quite as well academically at the time, so I didn’t deserve a celebration.”

Lister scratched at an itch on the back of his head and tried to think of any way that the story could possibly make sense. “Okay,” he said. “But why'd they do it on your birthday?”

“Well, they didn’t,” Rimmer explained. “Or at least they didn’t intend to. It turned out they really had forgotten my birthday. It was very funny. We laughed about it afterward.” He paused. “Well, they did.”

“That’s horrible,” Lister told him.

Rimmer shook his head. “It wasn’t as bad as all that,” he promised. “My brothers let me join in with their celebration, which was rather sporting of them considering I really hadn’t earned it. But the whole thing left me with this fairly deep-seated distrust of surprises.”

“Yeah,” Lister told him. “I can see why.” He sat back down on the bunk. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Rimmer said quickly. “It was a long time ago. I’m totally over it now. Totally.”

He definitely wasn’t. “Okay, well I’ll tell you next time,” Lister promised him. “Or, ask you. Make sure you’re up for it.”

Rimmer shook his head. “No, surprises are absolutely fine,” he said, “But just make sure you let me know in advance what they’re going to be, and when you’re planning on doing them, and then make sure I’m happy with the arrangement before you go ahead.”

Lister rolled his eyes. “Fair enough.”

“Right,” said Rimmer. “I think that’s probably enough revision for today anyway. Did you have anything planned?”

“Not really,” Lister told him. “I was just going to wing it,”

“That’s you all over, isn’t it, Lister? You don’t like revision timetables, you don’t schedule your surprises properly, and then you make yourself into a hologram with absolutely no plans for what to do next.”

“I wouldn’t say no plans,” Lister told him.

“No? Go on then.”

Lister shrugged. “Well, remember when you kissed me?” he said. “Twice. And the second time, it kinda felt like you meant it. I thought it might be good to see where that went.”

“What?” Rimmer looked nervous suddenly. “What do you mean?”

“Relax. You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to. I’m just saying that if you did want to, I’m okay with that. More than okay, actually.”

“Right.” Rimmer tapped his fingers nervously on his own thigh. “So that’s it, is it? That’s your entire plan for this weekend?”

Lister shook his head. “No. I don’t have a plan. That’s what I’m saying.”

“And what if I don’t know if I want to do that?” Rimmer asked him.

“I guess you’ll figure it out,” Lister told him. “One way or another.”

“And if I do figure it out, and I decide that no, I don’t want it to go anywhere? Then what?”

Lister frowned. “What do you mean ‘then what’?”

Rimmer folded his arms. “What I mean, Lister, is if I were to decline your invitation, would you immediately change your mind about this whole idea? Are you doing this only under the assumption that I’m… interested in you, and if it turns out that I’m not, will you suddenly lose interest in me?”

“What?” That hurt, actually. “You really do think I’m scum, don’t you, Rimmer?”

“You know I do. Don’t change the subject.”

Lister sighed. “Look, whatever you want, it makes no difference to me.” he hesitated, then shook his head. “Okay, no. I mean, of course it makes a difference to me but I’ll still want to do this anyway. If you still want me to.” He sighed. This wasn’t going well. “You know what, it might be easier if you weren’t interested, because if you are then sooner or later someone’s going to have to tell Kryten and Cat what’s going on, and I don’t want it to be me.”

Rimmer fixed him with an incredulous stare. “You genuinely don’t mind, one way or another?”

“Well…” Lister shrugged. “I mean, the other stuff would be nice, I’m not gonna pretend it wouldn’t, but I’ve done without it for long enough that I should be used to it by now, right?”

Rimmer frowned, then gave a half smile. “Maybe you were. Until someone went and reminded you. It looks as though I might have done the same thing to you, that you did to me.”

Lister thought about it. In a way, Rimmer was right. “Revenge?” he asked.

“Not intentionally,” Rimmer assured him. He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lister shook his head. He reached for Rimmer’s hand and took it in his own. His thumb traced a slow circle on Rimmer’s palm and he took a half-step closer. “Don’t be sorry.”

Rimmer swallowed, then nodded. “I suppose this makes us even,” he said.

“It’s not a competition, Rimmer. It’s just…” Lister shrugged, “It’s just whatever it is. I guess we’ll figure it out as we go. I mean, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Rimmer nodded. With his free hand, he took hold of Lister’s other hand, interlacing their fingers. “Incidentally, Lister,” he said. “If we do take this any further, and for whatever reason we do have to tell Kryten and the Cat, I absolutely and unequivocally nominate you to be the one to do it.”

Thank you to @norwegianpornfaerie for beta-ing this fic!)

#red dwarf #red dwarf fanfic #my fic #dave lister #arnold rimmer #rimmer/lister

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fieryanmitsu · 4 years

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Talented Fingers | A3! Week 2020 – Day 1 (Itaru/Izumi/Tsumugi) | 18+, NSFW

It’s been a while since I’ve written, unfortunately, but when I saw that A3! Week was happening, I just knew I had to try to whip something up!

So, here’s my entry for Day 1 of A3! Week 2020~ We were given three prompts for each day to choose from… And, because I like to challenge my imagination (read: torture my brain), I decided that I would use all three prompts in each entry, haha.

Since one of the prompts for Day 1 was Link Skills, I just knew that I had to go with “Talented Tutors”, which features two of my favourite A3! boys: Itaru and Tsumugi. But, I will warn everyone now that this is a completely mindless, self-indulgent and spicy piece of nonsense, hahaha. I LOVE Izumi as a character as well, and I love her paired with both Itaru and Tsumugi, but couldn’t choose between the two considering the prompt… and so this happened.

Note that this entry is NSFW, but the rest of my entries should be SFW (unless something drastically changes). So if you’re under-aged or uncomfortable with NSFW content, please do check back again!

TALENTED FINGERS

PROMPTS: Director | Link Skills | Firsts

CHARACTERS: Izumi Tachibana, Itaru Chigasaki, Tsumugi Tsukioka

PAIRINGS: Itaru/Izumi/Tsumugi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ rating, NSFW, contains smutty/sexual descriptions and situations, tutor/student fantasy

“I’m home!” Izumi announced tiredly as she walked into the first-floor lounge of the Mankai dorms. She had been helping her friend’s theatre troupe with painting background sets all day and she felt completely beaten up. She was sure that her knees would be bruised tomorrow and that her back would be in a world of pain when she woke up – her arm was already starting to feel like jelly.

“Welcome home! You’re back so late – you must be exhausted,” Tsumugi greeted from his spot at one of the tables. Piles of papers were sprawled out in front of him.

“GJ. Welcome home,” Itaru piped in from his spot seated across from Tsumugi. There were stacks of paper laid out before the other young man, as well. Two cups and a nearly empty pot of coffee also sat on the table between the two.

“This is an odd sight. Don’t you usually work in your room, Itaru?” Izumi asked as she walked over to the pair.

Instead of replying, Itaru simply sighed and took another sip of his coffee with one hand. With the other, he lifted one of the papers and handed it to Izumi.

She glanced at the paper and saw that it was a chemistry worksheet covered in messy hand-written responses. However, the amount of pencil marks was almost completely overshadowed by harsh red ink. Itaru’s handwriting was scrawled all over the page, circling wrong answers and writing comments in the margins. On the top right corner was Taichi’s name.

“I asked Itaru to help me with looking over the students’ homework since he used to work as a tutor as well. It’s almost exam time, so they all wanted some extra help,” Tsumugi responded with a sheepish chuckle.

“I didn’t know you worked as a tutor before, Itaru.”

“Back when I was a university student, I tutored as a part time gig. It paid well, you know,” Itaru responded with a shrug, taking a moment to tap a few buttons on his phone screen before turning back to the worksheet. Izumi had a good feeling she knew exactly what he had spent all of his earnings as she briefly stared at one of his games running automatically on his phone.

“But, wow, it looks like there’s still a lot of work ahead of you… It’s almost midnight already,” Izumi remarked, glancing at the papers on the table and nudging through them lightly. While there was a large pile of papers with red marks, there was also a significant stack that was unedited.

“Hmmm, I suppose so. Itaru’s been working on correcting worksheets while I’ve been making some study plans based on what areas they’re struggling with.”

“Yeah, usually worksheets don’t take this long to work through…. But, Taichi’s homework is a disaster… and don’t even get me started on Tenma… It’s taking me three times as long to go through theirs than the others’…” Itaru sighed again.

“Do you need any help? I don’t have any tutoring experience, but if there’s anything I can do, please let me lend you two a hand,” Izumi offered.

“You wouldn’t mind? Maybe you could go through the Japanese homework? It’s just checking off if they wrote the kanji properly and in the right context, so I think that you should be able to handle that,” Tsumugi replied as he shifted through the worksheets on the table.

“No problem! Oh! I’ll make us a new pot of coffee! My friend also gave me box of cookies as a thank you as well – let’s share them together!”

“Ahhhh, caffeine and sugar – the best nutrients for our brains~ Want to feed me one? Since my hands are busy?” Itaru asked with a teasing smirk.

Izumi rolled her eyes and plunked the now-open box of cookies on the table.

“Nice try, but that smile won’t work on me!”

“Ah, well, it was worth a shot,” Itaru lamented as he helped himself to one of the cookies, mumbling a quick thanks through a mouthful of crumbs before he picked up his pen again.

“Oh, Azuma was telling me about this bakery the other day,” Tsumugi remarked, examining the box. “But, thanks again for helping, Izumi. I’ll leave the worksheets here for you.”

“No problem – glad to help!”

After brewing a new pot of coffee, Izumi grabbed herself a mug and sat down in front of the worksheets that Tsumugi had collected for her. As she took a sip of the coffee, she couldn’t help but stare for a moment at the two men in front of her. It was a striking image – two handsome young men bent over their work with serious looks of concentration, pens flying across the pages.

The Mankai Company students were certainly lucky to have access to not one, but two talented tutors. She hadn’t been a bad student back in her school days, but she had always been middle of the pack when it came to academic subjects. She couldn’t help but idly wonder how it would have been if she had been tutored by Tsumugi and Itaru. She had seen them both explain concepts to the students before, and they were both always so clear and easy to understand. Maybe she would have had an easier time in school.

As she focused on the worksheets in front of her, listening only to the scratching of pen on paper, the ticking of the clock and the occasional sipping of coffee, Izumi felt her eyelids grow heavy. She had been doing physical labour for close to eight hours, and it was now close to one in the morning. She tried to shake her head to wake up, but soon found herself completely nodding off….

“… Izumi… Izumi… Wake up, Izumi…!”

Izumi’s eyes snapped open as she heard someone call her name. Tsumugi and Itaru were staring at her with furrowed brows.

“Eh?! I-I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to drift off on you two!”

“So you did fall asleep on us,” Itaru sighed. “And here I was hoping you were just resting your eyes. You have some nerve, falling asleep on your tutors.”

“Huh? Tutors? Wait… what’s going on here?” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing her surroundings.

She had expected to be in the lounge at the Mankai dorms, but instead, she was in her bedroom back at her parents’ house. The three of them were sitting at a coffee table with worksheets and textbooks spread out before them. Looking down, she also realized that she was in her high school uniform. She idly noticed with a cringe that the skirt was a tad tighter on her than she remembered it being when she was in school – she really had to cut back on the rice…

“Why are we in my room? And why am I wearing my high school uniform?!”

“Ahaha, you must still be half-asleep, Izumi,” Tsumugi chuckled. “I know we usually tutor you at the public library, but it’s closed for emergency repairs from a water main break right now, so we’re here at your house instead.”

“And as for your uniform… well, we did ask if you wanted to change into something more comfortable first, but you were so eager to get started on studying and didn’t want to bother. But, despite your eagerness, you fell asleep…” Itaru remarked wryly.

Izumi felt like her head was swimming. What the heck was happening? Was this some kind of lucid dream? Was it because she had been wondering what it’d be like to be tutored by Tsumugi and Itaru that she had suddenly dreamed of them tutoring her?! She couldn’t believe how embarrassing this was – especially since she was in her high school uniform. What was she even supposed to do in this situation? Maybe she should pinch herself. But, before she could do anything, Itaru suddenly leaned towards her with a smirk on his face – a very seductive smirk, she couldn’t help noting.

“You know... you've been a naughty girl, falling asleep on us... Naughty girls need to be punished,” he drawled, as he inched closer to her, so that by the time he said ‘punished’, it was right in her left ear. She shuddered and felt a pleasant shiver shoot down her back.

"That’s right… Maybe we need to do something to wake you up,” Tsumugi added, closing in on her other side. “Perhaps… this will wake you up?”

And then, she felt Tsumugi’s tongue lick her ear, and she let out a yelp as he took her right earlobe in his mouth and started nibbling on it.

“Aaah, Ts-Tsumugi!! St-stop, that tickles! Nnngg-!” Izumi protested, but instead, his tongue was now licking up the back of her ear and she heard herself moan.

“Now, now, Tsumugi, that’s not a punishment at all – you’re much too gentle,” Itaru purred before he brushed aside the hair at her neck, his fingertips feeling like fire. Then, suddenly, his lips were on her neck and she yelped as she felt a sharp pain. Did he just give her a hickey?!

"Itaru!! What are you doing—!”

Both Itaru and Tsumugi were now nuzzling either side of her neck, their breath puffing against her skin, and she felt like her face was on fire. This was bad! This was very bad! But, she also felt a tell-tale shot of pleasure uncoiling in the pit of her stomach, and a stirring between her legs.

"Now, let's see if you've been paying attention...” Itaru said, lifting his face from her neck. “I was just reviewing dissociation with you. Have you solved the problem yet? Can you tell me the chemical equation for the dissociation for sodium chloride? Don't forget to provide an explanation if you want full marks."

"H-Huh? Sodium chloride?” Izumi squeaked, her mind trying to catch up with what Itaru was saying – it was very hard to focus when Tsumugi was sucking on the fingers of her hand. “U-Ummm, what was dissociation again?" How many years had it been since she’d looked at a chemistry textbook?!

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You really weren't paying attention, Izumi. Were you distracted while I was teaching you?" Itaru scolded, placing one long finger against her lips before she could respond. His finger then slid down her chin, tracing down her neck and stopping at the collar of her shirt. "Maybe... you really aren't comfortable in that uniform. Let me help you loosen it up."

The next thing she knew, Itaru had pulled off the ribbon tie around her neck and was slowly unbuttoning her shirt. How was he doing that with one hand?!

"Itaru!!" she protested. She knew that she should button up her shirt again, because this was going nowhere good fast, but couldn’t muster the strength in her arm when she saw him flash her a crooked smirk. Instead, her heart fluttered in her chest – if only she didn’t find that smug face so attractive!!

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her right hand.

"Izumi..." Tsumugi looked at her with the saddest puppy-dog eyes and she felt her heart shoot up her throat. Gosh, he was so, so cute. "I had asked you to finish filling in the kanji on this worksheet, but you’ve only filled in two of the blanks… I worked so hard to make up this worksheet – were the questions too dull? Is my teaching boring you?”

“N-Not at all, Tsumugi!! You’d never bore me!” Izumi protested immediately, her mouth moving faster than her brain. All she could think was how she could stop this angel from looking so disappointed.

“Maybe… I should do something to make my lesson more engaging?” he asked softly, the light in his eyes had now turned from puppy-dog to something distinctly more dangerous. She felt Tsumugi’s hand settle on her right leg and whimpered as she felt his hand creep up her thigh, his fingertips tracing delicate circles across her skin.

Suddenly she felt a chill on her chest – her shirt was now wide open, and then she felt two hands push gently on her shoulders, and she was splayed on her back.

“It’s not good if you aren’t paying attention to your tutors, Izumi. Keep your attention only on us this time,” Itaru purred.

Itaru bent down and began kissing the top of her left breast. She let out a gasp at the sudden contact, but it quickly turned into a moan as he sucked harder and left another hickey. His left hand came up and grasped at her bra, quickly undoing the conveniently-located front clasp, exposing her breasts to the open air.

“Ahhhhh, I-Itaru,” Izumi gasped as his hand cupped her left breast and began to massage it gently, his fingers rolling her erect nipple. His mouth closed over the right breast and noisily sucked and kissed.

Before she could think too much more about Itaru’s ministrations, Tsumugi’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“That’s right, Izumi… let us teach you how to feel good.”

She felt him spread her knees apart and push up her skirt. He gently trailed his fingers down both of her legs, and she twitched at the ticklish sensation. Then, she felt one of his fingers trace the line where her panties met her thighs. The feeling of the edge of his nail against the sensitive flesh made her groan, her voice becoming louder as he moved his finger over to her most sensitive spot.

“You’re such a quick learner, Izumi, you’re already so wet that it’s soaking through your panties…” And indeed, as he pressed and stroked her, she felt her juices soaking through the thin layer of cotton.

She yelped as she suddenly felt Itaru’s teeth lightly scrape across her breast and his left hand tweaked her nipple, as if he didn’t want to be forgotten. A shot of pleasure coursed through her and she felt her back arch off the floor.

“Nnnnng, I-Itaru!”

Before she could recover, she let out a gasp as Tsumugi’s finger moved the panel of her underwear aside and plunged a single finger into her.

“Ah… ah…. Ts-Tsumugi…!” She could feel a gush of hot liquid ooze out of her opening at the sudden entry.

It all felt so good. The sensation of both Itaru playing with her breasts, and the steady pump of Tsumugi’s finger inside of her. She could feel a pressure building up inside the depths of her stomach and she let out another loud, wanton moan.

“… Izumi… Izumi… Wake up, Izumi…!”

Tsumugi gently shook Izumi’s shoulder as she whimpered again in her sleep, but she wasn’t stirring from her slumber.

They had moved the young director to the coach when she’d fallen asleep in her chair about half an hour ago. But, suddenly, they heard her groaning and calling their names. They could see that she was squirming on the couch and was panting heavily. Concerned, they had decided to check on her.

“She seems to be having a bad dream… Should we try harder to wake her up?” Tsumugi questioned, looking up at Itaru.

“Hmmm, yeah, she’s sweating a bit, maybe she’s getting sick… it would be better for her to sleep in her bed—” Itaru started to respond, but was interrupted by Izumi. Moaning his name. In a very, very erotic voice.

“Nnnnng, I-Itaru!”

Itaru’s eyes widened in shock. The young director’s brows scrunched up and her lips were parted in a pant. He had never seen such an expression on her face before. And the way she had moaned his name sent blood rushing to his groin. He immediately clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle the choking sound he had made. He had no idea what she was dreaming about, but she was giving him bad ideas and his mind was about to kick into overdrive—

A moment later, she let out another moan.

“Ah… ah…. Ts-Tsumugi…!”

Tsumugi immediately felt his face flush. He was sure that if he looked in a mirror, his face would be red as a tomato. His eyes instinctively flickered to the juncture of her thighs as she clenched her legs together in another squirm. He felt his brain short-circuiting as his imagination jumped to the most inappropriate conclusion—NO, he couldn’t just assume that! Maybe she was dreaming about something else. Though he was secretly hoping that she really was dreaming about him—

“I-I’ll wake her up!” Tsumugi nearly shouted, cutting off his train of thought, his voice cracking in his desperation to cover up his embarrassment.

He quickly shook her shoulder, a little rougher this time.

“Izumi! Wake up!!” he said again, probably louder than he intended.

Finally, Izumi’s eyes snapped open, and she saw Itaru and Tsumugi staring down at her, both looking at her with anxious faces. Maybe she was still groggy, but they also looked quite red-faced.

One second passed in silence as she stared at the two men. And then another. And then, two things hit her like a truck. One, she remembered every detail of her dream. Two, she became distinctly aware that her panties were soaking wet. She could not believe it. She had never had such an intensely vivid and sexual dream before. In fact, this was the first time she could even remember having a wet dream at all. A wet dream about the two men who were crouching right in front of her!!

Izumi shot up into an upright position, heart racing and face flushing furiously.

“I-I’m so s-sorry I fell asleep! I-I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to go back to my room!” she quickly stammered out before swinging herself off the couch.

“Have a good night!” she added quickly before she stumbled out of the lounge and practically ran to her room, leaving behind two very hot and bothered tutors.

I can’t believe this trash fire is my first contribution to the A3! fandom, hahaha. I’m sorrynotsorry for this. I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you enjoyed it as well!

-Anmitsu

83 notes · View notes

sloshi · 5 years

Text

Sasusaku Fanfic - Prologue

Title: Captain!

Pairing: Sasusaku

Summary: Passing lewd notes in class is all fun and games—that is, until it smacks a certain baseball captain upside the head. Japan!highschool AU [will be Slow burn / eventual smut]

Read Chapter 1 preview here

Prologue

“—recognizes the cell as the basic unit of life, genes as the basic unit of heredity, and evolution as the engine that propels the creation and extinction of species. Living organisms—“

Sakura blinks heavily, tuning out her teacher’s lecture with shameful ease. With her chin resting sleepily in her hand, she glances at the clock above the chalkboard, nearly rolling her eyes in dread when she sees that the minute hand hasn’t moved nearly an inch since the last she checked. Which was like an hour ago.

(Okay, so maybe it was like a minute ago, but seriously, come on.)

She drums her fingernails impatiently against the wooden desktop, blatantly ignoring the glare from the guy next to her, who’s shooting laser beams with his eyes at her tapping fingers, annoyed.

Green eyes trail lazily back to Kakashi-Sensei, a teacher she’s almost positive has a porn-addiction if the orange book that is always sticking out of his back pocket is any indication. Sakura scrunches her nose in disgust—It’s no wonder he’s teaching Biology. A shudder runs down her spine.

She debates whether or not she should sneak a nap. There’s still twenty minutes left of class, and honestly? She knows this stuff already. She’s read the textbook—all three-hundred and twenty pages of it, and Sakura is more than ready for the test this Friday. Maybe she’s an overachiever (an over-doer, if you will), but if she’s going to be a doctor one day, she has to be. There’s no half-saving someone’s life.

At least she doesn’t have to worry about falling behind, unlike her best friend who wouldn’t be a senior right now without her. She snickers to herself, remembering all the notes she had slapped onto Ino’s minty-blue bedspread two nights before the final exams last year.

‘You mean, I have to read all of these?!’ She had screeched, her face nearly purple with terror.

Sakura clapped a simple hand on her shoulder, smiling, unabashedly relishing in her misery. Maybe next time, Ino will actually study instead of poking fun at Sakura’s notes all the time now that she sees how much work she puts into them. You live and you learn, Ino-pig. ‘Yup!’

(Speaking of notes.)

Glancing down at her spiral notebook, her bubbly scrawl of handwriting takes up only half the page since she had abandoned writing about fifteen minutes ago. Pursing her lips, she stops drumming her fingers (she swears the guy next to her moans in relief.) and picks up her pen, drawing nonchalantly in the empty space. Mindlessly scribbling little spirals along the faint blue lines, she pauses when she suddenly finds herself doodling a familiar name.

Sasuke.

Baseball captain. Brilliant. Top-of-the-class. Perfect lean body. Tall, dark and handsome—you know, everything that shouldn’t be possible for one man be all at once. (It’s so unfair because nobody should be that perfect. Seriously.)

Despite his obnoxiously shining qualities, he’s quiet for the most part. Keeps to himself like he’s a secret. Or maybe he killed someone—it’s not like she’d ever know, since she the only stuff she knows about Sasuke is purely by rumor. They just happen to float her way, and honestly, it’s a little hard to ignore gossip that involves the baseball captain of KHS. Everyone knows him. Loves him, actually.

Okay, so maybe only the female population loves him. The males, however, are a different story—but they’re just jealous sore losers if you ask her. It’s not like Sasuke asked to be born that freaking attractive.

She’s also heard on several occasions that he’s actually antisocial—withdrawn to a point. He doesn’t attend activities outside of school, other than baseball, and he’s never seen at mixers or parties. In fact, the only person he’s really ever seen with outside of school is the catcher of the baseball team; Naruto Uzumaki. A blonde knucklehead of a guy she’s seen, heard of, but never spoken to.

(And even though Sasuke and Naruto were rumored to be gay, Sakura secretly hoped Sasuke was at least Bi.)

You’d think a guy like him would embrace his genes and take advantage of every opportunity he gets, considering the way he can literally make a whole room swoon just by entering.

But as far as she knows—or anyone knows—he’s never had a girlfriend. (Or boyfriend.)

Too bad it only serves to make him more interesting, if half the crooning girls of the school are anything to go by. Sakura likes him too, but she’s not screaming across the baseball field, clinging to the chain-link fence like a wild animal, asking to have his babies in the middle of his pitch. (True story. She was there. The girl was escorted off campus.)

After punctuating the last letter of his name with a little heart, she sighs wistfully and looks up, green eyes following the incline of desk rows downward where the very man himself sits at the edge of his row, diagonal from her perspective, whose quick hands are working away at his notebook diligently.

He’s as handsome as ever, she sighs to herself, as she studies the side profile of his perfectly unblemished face (he probably doesn’t even try!) His sharp raven bangs fall sinfully over equally dark eyes that are slightly narrowed in concentration as he writes languidly, following Kakashi-sensei’s lecture with ease. Sasuke pauses every once in a while to look up at their teacher, nodding curtly in understanding at whatever the silver-haired man is saying, as if he’s genuinely intrigued by the lecture, before returning back to his notes.

Sakura blinks in surprise, however, when Ino—who somehow managed an assigned seat next to the Uchiha, the conniving pig—turns her platinum blond head in her direction. Baby blue eyes squint mischievously, accompanied by a smirk that Sakura has learned to detest over the many years of their friendship, when her eyes flicker to Sasuke and back to Sakura. A smirk like that from Ino is nothing short of dangerous.

What, Sakura mouths impatiently.

Slender blonde eyebrows waggle suggestively and Sakura glares pointedly as if to say: Whatever you’re thinking about doing, Pig, don’t even try it.

Ino’s smirk only grows more wicked, eyes twinkling impishly when she swiftly turns back around and begins to scribble something in her notebook. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she studies the back of her best friend’s head with a frown.

Slowly, reluctantly, Sakura returns to her own notebook, picking up where she left off, but she’s only added a few more little hearts around Sasuke’s name before something light and airy smacks her forehead and bounces off to land directly upon her notebook.

What the—

She snaps her head up, eyes immediately finding Ino’s platinum ponytail. Despite not being able to see it, Sakura sends her a dark scowl and inwardly curses. Passing notes in class is a huge no-no; it’s an instant detention and maybe Ino doesn’t care about her perfect, unblemished school record but Sakura does ThankYouVeryMuch.

If she gets in trouble, Ino is so dead.

With a petulant huff, she finally looks down at the offending object. A crumpled ball of paper sits innocently upon Sasuke’s scribbled name. Kakashi-Sensei has long since turned his back to the class, his ever-boring monotone voice a mere drawl in the background as he jots something on the chalkboard, completely oblivious to the paper note that has soared half way across the classroom.

Sakura makes a face at Ino’s back one last time before she gingerly opens the wad of paper before her, almost afraid of what she’ll see. Maybe it’s a picture, she thinks. The paper crinkles a little loudly, and naturally, she flinches, but somehow luck is on her side—Kakashi-Sensei’s back is still turned. Sighing in relief, she quickly reads Ino’s sloppy note.

Don’t think I don’t see you eyeing Sasuke-kun, forehead girl. If you want his dick that bad, you could always just ask... too bad you’re such a prude. And you might wanna wipe that drool off your chin, although I suppose Sasuke-kun could lick it off for you. How bout it, Sakura?

A cute little smiley face punctuates the end of the sentence and it takes every ounce of control in Sakura’s body not to openly gape. Turning seven shades of red, she jerks her head to send the deadliest glare she can manage at her best friend, only for her simmering anger to amplify when she finds Ino smiling back at her, a hand over her mouth stifling laughter. (That witch!) Flustered, Sakura grinds her teeth together and snatches her pen, eager to put the pig in her place.

You’re disgusting. Sakura scribbles angrily, but then stops abruptly as an idea sprouts in her head. Two can play at this game, she whispers sourly to herself. Sakura will be damned if Ino thinks she can embarrass and tease her without getting a taste of her own medicine.

Oh, I’ll show her ‘prude’.

Smirking and feeling quite proud of herself, she promptly erases her first two words and begins to rewrite.

Lick it off? Oh, pig. I’d let Sasuke-kun do more than just that. I bet you think you did something there, huh? You’re a real comedian. And speaking of prude, I’ve never seen you with a guy either. Why don’t you ask him out yourself? Hypocrite.

P.S. if Kakashi-Sensei catches this note, I’ll personally kill you.

Satisfied, Sakura draws a tiny passive-aggressive heart, crumbles the paper back into a wad and waits until Kakashi-Sensei turns around again. The second his back is turned, she hurls it through the air where it bounces against Ino’s shoulder and onto the floor. She hastily bends over to pick it up, skims it over, and throws Sakura an offended look over her shoulder.

Cha! Take that, Ino-pig!

Sakura childishly sticks out her tongue, inwardly pumping a fist in triumph. Ino can make fun of her all she wants, but at the end of the day, she’s really not one to talk. She’s never seen her best friend advance on a guy, and the fact that she’s hounding her for not busting a move on Sasuke Uchiha—the freaking baseball captain, of all people—is laughably ridiculous. Sure, she’s liked him for three years. But who hasn’t. It was a harmless, silly crush; something she’s never expected to grow into anything other than just that. He’s so far out of her league it’s almost embarrassing. They’ve never even spoken before, least of all looked at each other. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t even know she exists—at least, he pretends not to.

Sakura remembers all too clearly the day she once tried (with all the courage her hopeful heart could muster) to say hi to him. They had been the first ones to arrive in the classroom one morning, leaving them completely alone with each other. He had already been seated at his desk, writing something in his notes, clearly absorbed—oblivious to her entrance. Her palms had been so sweaty it was a wonder how she even held onto her notebooks.

“Good morning, S-Sasuke-kun.” She had greeted cheerfully (nervously), a one-thousand-watt smile lighting her face like a Christmas tree. Heart thundering, she clenched her notebooks to her chest, face blossoming as pink as her hair as she waited for him to acknowledge her as she casually passed him by.

He hadn’t even looked up. (That jerk!) But when she had settled into her desk, deflated and deeply humiliated that she had been disregarded so easily, so rudely, it was only then that she had noticed the earbuds in his ears. Her chest flooded with relief. He probably hadn’t even heard her.

Maybe next time, he’ll notice me.

But there had never been a next time. Sighing heavily at the memory, she is ripped from her thoughts when a crinkled ball of paper plops onto her notebook again. Sakura takes in a deep breath, not even bothering to look over at Ino—who, Sakura would bet a million dollars, was smirking with glee. She unfurls the note as quietly as she can manage.

Yeah, I bet you would love for him to do more than that, wouldn’t you. And I may not have ever been with a guy, but at least I’ve been kissed. What’s it like, daydreaming about Sasuke-kun’s wet, sloppy kisses? You’ve liked him for like, three years now, Sakura. Get a fucking move on, already. The suspense is killing me. Wrap your cute little ass in a bow and slip him your virginity.

P.S. Kakashi-Sensei can suck my dick.

Eyes nearly popping out of her skull at that last sentence, Sakura hunches forward protectively when the guy next to her scowls in disgust, as if he read the note himself over her shoulder. Arms still shielding the crinkled paper from unwanted eyes, Sakura chances a look at Kakashi-Sensei before she furiously writes back.

For gods’ sake! What if Kakashi-Sensei catches this note by accident! Also I definitely do not daydream about his kisses. Okay, maybe just a little . . . But don’t you dare bring up my virginity, pig. I bet Sasuke-kun doesn’t even know my name—

“—Sakura?”

She nearly jumps out of her seat, startled like a child caught with an arm halfway in the cookie jar.

“M-Mitosis!” She blurts without thinking, only to shrink in mortification when the rest of the class explodes in peals of laughter.

Kakashi-sensei quirks a single visible eyebrow in what she assumes is surprise (nobody can really tell what kind of expressions he makes under that weird medical mask and eyepatch anyway.)

Sakura feels forty pairs of eyes on her back, and every head in the front two rows have turned, craning their necks to see the face of the unlucky person who has just embarrassed themselves.

Including Sasuke.

Over his shoulder, he looks right at her; expression as blank as a sheet of paper. She stares right back at him, blinking in astonishment, because it’s the first time they’ve ever made eye contact. And it’s so intense—piercing, even. Like two black holes sucking her in and crushing the oxygen from her lungs with their devastating gravity. Butterflies flap wildly against the walls of her stomach; she thinks she might hurl her breakfast across the room.

When his dark brows furrow marginally (she needs a magnifying glass to be sure) in confusion, her breath hitches violently, and suddenly she feels as naked as a mole rat. Heart stuttering, chest heaving, face flooding with heat, Sakura quickly tries to calm down.

Well if he didn’t notice me before, he definitely notices me now!

“Sakura?” Kakashi-sensei’s usual monotone voice is now laced with concern. She snaps her gaze back to the teacher, mumbling a quick apology before lowering her eyes in shame. The silver-haired man studies her for another moment, as if he’s hesitating whether to ask if she’s alright (as if he’s questioning her sanity), but resumes his lecture after a quiet murmur of ‘Pay attention next time.’

It occurs to her immediately what Sasuke’s first impression of her must be now. She’s just made a complete idiot out of herself in front of the whole class. All because of . . .

Sakura narrows her eyes into dangerous slits, shifting to glare at a certain blonde pig. But she’s not facing Sakura. No. She’s staring straight ahead at the chalkboard, a little too casually to be genuine, twirling a strand of her blonde ponytail nonchalantly. ‘Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything.’ Ino’s body language says.

Sakura’s fists clench on the table top. She’s positive a deadly miasma is radiating off her at this point, because the guy next to her scoots a few inches away.

“S-Scary . . . “ she thinks she hears him whisper.

Snatching her pen, she scowls down at the crinkled note as if her very eyes could set the paper on fire, before erasing the last sentence she wrote and picking up where she left off.

—are you happy now, pig? Are you? Because you’ve just totally ruined everything with this stupid note. Sasuke-kun probably thinks I’m a dumbass, now. No thanks to you. There goes my chance.

P.S. don’t talk to me for the rest of my life. I hate you.

With that, she balls up the wad of paper with more force than necessary and, as Kakashi-sensei turns back to the chalkboard, she chucks it with all her might across the room, watching with pure satisfaction as it soars downward like a projectile missile—

—only for it to violently smack the head of a very raven-haired baseball captain.

Sakura claps a palm over her gaping mouth to stifle her petrified shriek of terror.

(Oh gods! Oh fuck! No way—!)

She sinks down into her seat immediately, as low as she can physically go, eyes wider than the moon in absolute horror. (Oh gods. Holy shit. No, no, no, no! God, please don’t pick it up—please, please, please—)

Sasuke whips his head behind him, obsidian eyes slit with anger, searching murderously for the culprit as he rubs the side of his head where he was just unforgivably assaulted. Sakura keeps her eyes trained on the notebook before her, nostrils flaring and swallowing roughly against the lump in her throat. Trying to remember everything that was written in the note, she cringes fiercely, her whole body shaking with trepidation. She thinks she might be sick.

‘And you might wanna wipe that drool off your chin, although I suppose Sasuke-kun could lick it off for you.’

‘Lick it off? Oh, pig. I’d let Sasuke-kun do more than just that.’

‘What’s it like, daydreaming about Sasuke-kun’s wet, sloppy kisses? You’ve liked him for like, three years now, Sakura. . . Wrap your cute little ass in a bow and slip him your virginity.’

‘And I definitely do not daydream about his kisses. Okay, maybe just a little . . . ‘

Attempting to swallow again, she gathers the courage to sneak a peek at her impending doom, only for her heart to plummet into her stomach when she sees him finally bend over and pick up the offending wad of paper on the floor by his feet.

Sakura squeezes her eyes shut, bringing a hand to her face in utter mortification, but not before catching the terrified look on Ino’s face as she realizes what has just happened.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip painfully. There’s no coming back from this. Nope. She can’t even open her eyes. Oh, gods. The sound of light crinkling paper has her sinking even further in her seat. If only the floor could swallow her up.

A few tense seconds tick by, but she’s still too afraid to open her eyes. She knows (she knows) he is reading it. He’s reading it right now.

Goodbye, cruel world. It was fun while it was lasted.

Cracking an eye open, a new tidal wave of humiliation washes over her when she physically sees the note unfurled in his hands. Nope. Mm-mm. This is so not happening. She crosses her arms over the desk and buries her head in the nook of her forearms, wishing and praying and hoping to all the gods that are listening that Sasuke doesn’t hate her. Because, surely, after reading a note like that, he will be so disgusted by her that just looking at her pink head will make him hurl. She probably sounded like such a creep!

Tears prickle her eyes. She never should have entertained Ino’s stupid antics. She should have known.

(You live and you learn.)

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Sakura finally lifts her head up, only to startle forcibly when bottomless black eyes lock with hers.

He’s staring at her shamelessly over his broad shoulder, eyes peeking through his dark fringe, the incriminating note still open in his hands in all its wanton glory. Her lips tremble and she’s positive she looks like a deer caught in headlights.

The bell rings suddenly, ripping through the air and shattering the moment instantaneously. (Oh thank god!) Sakura jumps out of her seat faster than lightning, scraping her notebook into her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder so quickly she almost smacks the guy next to her across the face with it. Kakashi-sensei is announcing something as everyone is gathering their things, but right now she really doesn’t care. Galloping down the stairs between the rows of desks, bumping shoulders with people she doesn’t bother apologizing to, she books it—runs like hell to the door and into the hallway (sweet, sweet freedom) before even Ino can catch up with her. She doesn’t look back.

And she doesn’t see the pair of onyx eyes that follow her out the door.

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

Thoughts? I have around 10k words into this story right now, and I am curious if it peaks anyone’s interest :P ciao!

#sasusaku #fanfiction #au #highschool #sasuke x sakura

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p0cketfool · 4 years

Text

quarantine tag game

thank you for tagging me @rayyperson !!

are you staying home from school/work?

unfortunately so, which means that i have effectively finished high school since this was my last year anyways. exams have also been cancelled so i don’t have an excuse to go back to school and say a proper goodbye unless i’m returning textbooks lmao

who is at home with you?

my mum and my sister

are you a homebody?

i mean... not really. i prefer staying in to going out most of the time, but i liked having the freedom to choose what i want to do, so being restricted to just going for a walk around my tiny village is annoying lmao. but i know it keeps people safe so i’ll get over it.

any event you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

a muck up day at school on our last day (quarantine was imposed 2 weeks before we were due to break off from school for the easter holidays, and then we’d have been on study leave and then sitting exams, so the muck up day was meant to be a nice send off for our last day. it obviously didn’t happen, but we wore our own clothes instead of uniform, took pictures, ate cake etc, so it wasn’t terrible, but it could have been better). we haven’t heard anything about prom yet, but i think it might get cancelled. who knows.

what movies have you been watching recently?

i made a whole list of movies i’ve put off watching due to school, and i’m slowly (very slowly) making my way through it. so far i’ve only watched one, dunkirk, and i really enjoyed it. i plan to watch minority report next.

what are you doing for self care?

trying to remind myself that i don’t have to do things like school work to be productive. also drinking a lot of tea.

what shows are you watching?

currently - a lot. i watched a lot of tv before the quarantine happened anyways, but my favourites right now are minority report (the tv show, not the film), criminal minds and cbs s.w.a.t. typing that out i’ve really noticed a pattern with the amount of crime drama shows i watch. dare i say future criminology student?? oh we also watched the first ep of tiger king, and i think we’re in for a wiiiiiiild ride.

what music have you been listening to?

pretty much everything i used to - a big variety. mostly consisting of linkin park, green day, american idiot the musical (yes, because of stark sands) and a lot of other artists i can’t think of off the top of my head.

what books are you reading?

currently trying to finish generation kill by evan wright, and then start one bullet away by nate fick. also reading a lot of band of brothers/generation kill fanfic - quarantine really is bringing out the hbo war stan in me oops.

what games are you playing?

i mean.. if card games, kahoots and those games you get on house party count as games then i’ve been playing those with my friends/family a lot lmao. in terms of video games i don’t even have a console - i’m not a big fan of playing video games anyways, i prefer to watch lets plays of people playing them. i really love detroit: become human though! my favourite playthrough is jacksepticeye’s because he gets the best route and then he goes back and gets the worst possible endings, it’s great.

tagging: @moonchild397, @mackrool, @momecat and @beinfinite <3

#about me

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spacequokka · 4 years

Note

hah.. my exams are next week and i just wanted someone to talk to... i was wondering what should one do if they lose motivation in school? i’ve never liked the courses i took this sem and it’s come to a point where i don’t rlly care about my grades anymore... it scares me cos it makes me think “am i really that weak to give up on something mandatory?” or “will i always act like this when i’m not passionate abt something?” i just want to get it over with :( sorry for ranting :(

You don’t have to apologize. In fact, I’m honored you felt comfortable enough to open up. *hugs*

Losing motivation to do something really sucks (I go through it regularly) but the trick is realizing that more often than not you never really feel like doing stressful, difficult, or seemingly pointless tasks. Ever. Unless there’s something in it for you. So how do you make yourself want to do these things? You got two choices. You can either trick yourself into caring or rely on a coping tactic that spurs you into action.

By tricking yourself, I mean coming up with reasoning that’s sound and makes whatever you’re doing relevant to your future, short- or long-term. For example, I’m taking Television Writing this month. As a novelist, I have no interest in writing scripts, but I have to do it to graduate this year. I tell myself that it isn’t about the scripts. It’s about learning the writing techniques to improve my storytelling, make my stories stronger. It helps to see what’s in it for you, especially when you don’t like the subject or task.

Otherwise, be a rocket ship. Seriously. If you have trouble starting important tasks related to the difficult thing, like studying for the exam, count down to blast off. 5-4-3-2-1, go! I learned this neat trick from Mel Robbins that works from the simplest things like getting out of bed to planning and outlining a full fanfic. Instead of relying on being motivated to do the thing, you control your mind and the situation by setting off the spark. 5-4-3-2-1, pull out the textbook. 5-4-3-2-1, pull out your notes. Set a timer for 25 minutes and study the first section of your notes. Then take a 5-minute break. You can use that same trick to eat a good breakfast and shower, get there on time. You know, the things you can’t bring yourself to do because you don’t care for the courses.

But, I have good news. When you get through these exams, you’ll be closer (if not done) to the finish line. You’ll be closer to getting this crappy part of school over with and onto the next thing that you may find easier to care about.

The most important thing I have to say is it’s okay to not feel like caring about things you normally find important. In school, it’s called burn out. School and work applies near-constant pressure and stress. It’s a constant demand and your brain is wired to protect you from excessive stress because that state of mind hurts the body. When you find yourself burned out, you have to reset yourself. Kinda like turning something off and holding the power button for 30 seconds. You take a step back and do something to take your mind off the thing for a set period of time. I usually go for 30 minutes to an hour of something like gaming, reading, or drawing. Something unrelated that lets your brain do a quick reset so you can get a fresh perspective and can come up with a new game plan. In fact, there’s a whole video on resetting your mind.

TL;DR--If you lose motivation, try different tactics to push yourself to keep going. You only need 15 minutes to get into a task and stick to it. School boils down to time: everything you do will take a certain length of time to do it and then it's over. Losing the ability to care about your grades directly relates with the lost of interest in your work and performance, so use those tactics to get through it as quickly as possible while reminding yourself that while these classes--this semester--sucks, it won’t last forever. I pinky promise. You’re not weak because you haven’t given up. Proof of that is reaching out to talk about it. You still care, just not as much as you think you should. Chances are you might react this way to other things that disinterest you, and that’s okay. It’s a human reaction. All you have to do is tweak the way you look at it. Maybe it isn’t a boring, irrelevant class that impedes your goals but more of a side quest to get a weapon you’ll need for the main story. Imagine getting through this semester and being able to curb-stomp a future class because of some seemingly small bit of info you learned now.

Stop. Pause. Breathe. Cry if you must.

But keep going.

#asks #i can go on forever #mental health is my thing #self care is important #you can come to me any time about anything #let me know how it goes <3

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sagara-megumi · 5 years

Text

SasuSaku Month 2019 - Day 4: City Lights || [Fanfic] Family Ties - Chapter 2

Sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter but health and relatives visits made it a bit difficult (having nephews and nieces around asking you to play with them isn’t the best way to get inspired). Also, Sasuke made things a bit difficult XD

Title: Family Ties: Chapter 2

Rating: T/PG-13

Words: 3470

Notes: Well, as I stated in the previous chapter, there are going to be vampires in this story ^^ I don’t know if you’ve read manga about vampires before but just in case you haven’t, I’m going to tell you a little about them because Japanese vampires are different from Western ones.

It’s important to know that depending on the manga/anime they’re represented with some characteristics or others but what I think it’s the main difference is that vampires are more supernatural beings rather than undead creatures. Therefore, we can find vampires who can walk freely during the day, have superpowers, procreate, work… however, I think that one of the most important things is that they don’t have the pressing need of drinking blood to survive. I don’t want to elaborate too much on this topic because then, the notes would be too long and also, I want to uncover things as they happen in the story ^^ But if you want to check some more info, you can go here.

English isn’t my first language so if you spot any mistakes, please tell me. I hope that you enjoy it, and thank you for the notes and follows :)

CHAPTER 2

Expectations.

Uchiha Sasuke closed the door of his father’s office and walked along the corridor on the ground floor of the duplex house which had been his home for years, heaving a barely audible sigh. More and more expectations kept on mounting on his shoulders every single time he visited him and showed him his results, either academic, sports or social. However, it was never enough. Every single time, his brother’s name came into the conversation comparing their grades and their merits.

Despite this, he was not angry or unhappy, or hated his brother. Being a child, he had felt neglected in favour of him but Itachi had always tried to be there for him, even though he was busy himself, helping him with his studies and giving him advice. And even though he still had to deal with judgements, his views had changed as he grew. He had become aware that his father did that because Itachi was his successor as the clan head and also, because he wanted Sasuke to keep growing and be better, so nobody could say anything about any of his sons. Especially at that moment, in his situation.

He went up the stairs, heading to his bedroom. After his parents’ divorce, Itachi had stayed with this father while he, as a minor, had been taken in by his mother when she left the family clan. He now led a “normal” life that he did not want, living in a small rented apartment outside the family’s influence area, surrounded by people he did not have any interest to know and having to do things he was not used to, like doing the shopping or the washing-up.

He entered the room and, after looking through the window for a moment, at the city which was starting to come to life as night approached and buildings, street lamps and neon signs were lit, he took off his dark green uniform jacket, the striped tie around his neck and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, sitting on the bed, feeling slightly tired. He only had to wait a year and a half more to abandon all that, to be back to his origins and carve his own future, with his own kind. And he had to use that time wisely to harden himself so when he came back, people could see this strength and success over his mistakes.

He leant back, letting himself fall on the mattress and closed his eyes. His mistakes, his weaknesses… They were so many that sometimes, he doubted the clan could overlook them one day. Some were small, things that a child did carelessly and were frowned upon but others… He clenched his jaw. Others…

He buried his face in his pillow but nothing, not even his own scent, came from it. He opened his eyes and propped himself on one elbow, glaring at the fabric and pressing his lips together. The maid had changed the sheets again as if they were dirty after just one night. Maybe they feared that he brought any human odour with him. He half-closed his black eyes. It was true that the place where he lived on weekdays was full of smells he had never perceived before, like food being cooked, cars passing by, perfumes mixed in the air from men and women who passed along the corridor on the street or the sheets of his own bed which smelled of the floral fragrance of the fabric softener that his mother used when doing the laundry. At the beginning, it had annoyed him, especially for his sensitivity for smells, but after a while, he had got used to it. His thoughts went to her and the last time he had seen her, the previous morning during breakfast. She had been paler than usual, and it was as if she had lost her energy. She had said that she was tired, as Christmas was approaching and she had become busier with work, but he did not know whether to believe her or not. A part of him wanted to call her to see how she was, but another one berated him for having such feelings. That was exactly what his father and everyone around him wanted him to fight.

Breathing deeply, he stood up and finished changing his clothes. Then, he took out some books from the bookcase next to his desk and sat down, ready to study some more before dinner.

Minutes later, he stood up to take one more, a novel, for his Classic Literature homework but another one attracted his attention, and he picked it up. It was a copy of ‘Beauty and Sadness’ by Kawabata Yasunori which probably belonged to Itachi, as he did not usually read those types of books. He swallowed. And it was the same book the girl on the train was reading the day before. He had seen it in one of the glimpses he had caught of her.

In the beginning, he had not been more interested in her than in other humans who surrounded him on his way to school in that uncomfortable train carriage. She was one of the hundreds of students he crossed paths with during his day. And by the looks she sneaked at him, another one infatuated by his appearance. He had felt so annoyed that the following day, as he saw her enter the car, he had ignored her during the whole journey.

However, as he had sensed her attention gradually shift from him to the books that she brought to read during the ride, he had started to get curious about her, not so much as to steal glances at her like an idiot in love, but enough to wonder about her taste in literature or find out her school. It was not a bad one, but not the best for a bright mind as he supposed by the curiosity he had seen in her green eyes and her seriousness while reading when she carried advanced textbooks with her instead of novels.

And then, it was that aroma that she sometimes gave out. It was subtle and slightly sweet, like a summer breeze bringing the smell of ripe fruit. Now and then, it was mixed with recently applied cologne and it became a walk through a garden in spring. Even though he had already known that all humans had their own fragrance, hers had always been comforting, inviting but not tempting.

Until a few mornings ago, when she had given her seat to an old woman and she had taken a grab handle, her back to him. Maybe it was because she had been nearer him or because there had been any kind of disturbance in her feelings, or just because he was more sensitive that day, but her scent had surrounded him, intense and enthralling. His heart had thundered in his chest and goose pimples had formed on his skin, his pupils prickling slightly as his hunger-

“Sasuke?”

He jumped and turned suddenly, seeing his brother just behind him, his hand barely touching his shoulder. He had not heard him enter.

“I knocked but you didn’t answer…”

He breathed deeply, noticing that his fingers hurt, and he realised that his hold on the book had tightened until his knuckles had become white. Strange energy, like a low electrical current, fluttered in his veins, making him oddly upset.

“Sorry” he replied, clenching his jaw and trying to regain his composure. “Did you want something?”

Itachi furrowed his brow slightly. It was not like Sasuke to show his feelings openly, and to his eyes, it was obvious that something had been bothering him. When he had entered his bedroom and seen him stood there, immobile, his breath slightly agitated and his mind really far away from there. However, he was showing him a composed expression now, regarding him calmly, as always. He opened his mouth go ask but his little brother interrupted him.

“I found this here” he said, showing him the book.

“Oh, that’s mine, thank you” he replied, taking it. “Shisui lent it to me, I probably left it somewhere and one of the maids thought it was yours.”

Sasuke nodded and then, put his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“And? What did you want?” he repeated.

“Oh, they called us for dinner and I thought we could go downstairs together” the younger man spared a glance at his homework and then, took a step towards Itachi. “But, are you sure you’re alright? You look a bit pale…”

“Yes,” he straightened himself and looked at his brother. “I just need to go out tonight.”

Sakura started to go down the stairs from the school library in the building next to the sports facilities with a loud sigh, as the librarian closed the door behind her. She had lost track of the time while studying for her exams and now it was almost dark. A chill ran down her spine as a cold gust of wind passed her and she shrugged under her thick uniform coat.

Being a third-year student was not being easy at all, but she had thoroughly organised herself to be able to get to everything. At the beginning of the school year, her father and she had split the housework in a different way so she could have much more time to study and she had left her club too; also, she had a study group with Neji and Tenten, the only ones of her friends who were the same age as her, and they met every week to review the lessons and solve questions. She sometimes felt envious of the others, who, being in second year, still could afford to go to a café or the karaoke after class. In many occasions, Sakura had wondered why she had been in such a hurry to be born. If she had only waited for three more days…

“Sakura-chan!”

She was crossing the terrace in front of the main building, which had a fountain in the centre and led into a promenade lined by rows of leafless trees, when she had heard her name. Turning, she saw Naruto running towards her, waving. There were few times now when they could walk back home together and at that moment she was grateful for his company to avoid thinking about everything which was happening in her life, at such frantic speed that she barely felt strong enough to deal with all.

He reached her and smiled widely, his cheeks red for the effort and the cold, and he bent over a bit, putting his hands on his knees to recover his breath. A moment later, he started coughing and she sighed.

“What am I going to do with you…” she said pressing a hand on his back and rubbing vigorously to get through the different layers of cloth. “If you get ill, your mum’s going to be mad at you.”

“I just…” he replied, his smile still intact, as he lifted his head to her. “… saw you and I had to catch you” he straightened and inhaled deeply again. “I wanted to ask you about your dad and his girlfriend.”

If Ino was her best friend, Naruto was like a brother to her. They had met as babies when his parents had moved to their neighbourhood, three houses down the street from hers. They had been together in each of their school stages, she helping him to study when they had important exams and Kushina was exasperated because her son preferred to disappear to play football with other boys, during the summer holidays when they went to each other’s houses and played in their paddling pools until they did not fit in them anymore, and even when Naruto confessed to her when he was fourteen and she rejected him. They had overcome bad moments, fights and bumps in the road, and after sixteen years, they were still as close. He was the only one who knew about his father’s relationship and the change that was about to happen in her life, and even though he was not trustworthy in some kinds of secrets, she knew that he would take to his grave those things that she had talked to him about in the privacy of their bedrooms and that nobody else knew.

“Nothing happened.”

Naruto looked at her curiously and scratched his head as they started walking again.

“But you said he was going to drop the bomb last Sunday, right?”

“He said it wasn’t the right moment, so he decided to wait” Sakura bit her lower lip. “However, there’s something I don’t understand… When I saw him the following morning, he looked worried, as if something… unexpected… had happened. He tried to play it off but I think he lied to me…”

“A fight?”

She shrugged trying to appear nonchalant, but he could clearly see that it was quite the opposite, so he decided to change the topic.

“Hey, do you want to have dinner at home? You said your dad was working overtime and it’s depressing to eat alone. Besides, today mum’s making stew. Gramps’s come for a few days and he’s brought some delicious mushrooms from the village.”

She smiled at him, thankful.

“Alright. But first, I’ll go home to change clothes.”

“I’ll go with you, It’s just a couple of houses away…”

Jiraiya was a friendly happy old man who only had a fault, he was a real pervert. Sakura had discovered it when she had started showing curves, but by then, she already knew how to deal with that side of Naruto’s grandfather.

She was overjoyed inwardly when, upon entering his best friend’s house dining room and greet the family, the wide grin on the old man’s face turned into a disappointed pout when he saw that she was wearing straight jeans and a loose thick cardigan which reached past her hips over her black jumper. Also, she realised he did not drop anything under the table during the dinner, as it had happened at other times, and she made a mental note to warn Hinata, Naruto’s girlfriend, about that when she visited the house while his grandfather was there, or she would have a hard time.

And it was really lucky that neither Minato nor Naruto had inherited that trait.

Her smartphone rang while she was enjoying some tea that Kushina had served after dinner and, when she picked it up, she saw it was her father, to whom she had left a message saying where she would be.

“Naruto, take Sakura home” his mother asked him while she bid farewell.

He made a face

“But, there’re only two houses between ours and she can manage… I’d prefer to stay here” he complained while moving forward under the kotatsu covers to make his point. “Moreover, the baseball match’s going to start.”

Kushina put her hands on her hips as Sakura chuckled, knowing what was coming. The woman started ranting about her son’s lack of manners and how Hinata could get tired of him one day if he treated her like that. In the end, Naruto stood up with a sour face.

“You shouldn’t have…” Sakura whispered to Kushina when he left to retrieve his coat. “Now I feel pity for him.”

“He has to learn that he can’t treat girls as his football teammates and that it doesn’t matter if you’ve grown up together, you’re not one either” she glanced at Minato and a soft smile appeared on her mouth. “His father was clumsy and dense for these things too, but he was more considerate.”

Both left the house and stayed in the doorstep for a moment. A cold breeze blew past them, leaving their noses freezing, and Naruto started shivering while he shrugged to emphasize the fact that he had left the comfort of the kotatsu to see her home, and she laughed.

“I got it” she took a few steps ahead and turned, walking backwards. “Tomorrow, I’ll invite you to hot chocolate so you can forgive me” his eyes glinted as they went through the gate and started walking up the street; he was too predictable. “So, why don’t you wait here till I reach my house?”

“Are you crazy? My mum’ll have my head if she sees me through the kitchen window, and be assured she’ll be watching by now.”

Both started walking up the street with their hands in their pockets. The street was empty and only their steps and breaths broke the silence. Their shadows danced back and forth as they entered and exited the beams of light of the street lamps which bordered the street.

“Hey, how are you doing with History? Remember that the exam is next week and you need to pass it or you’ll get suspended of your club activities until the end of the year.”

He hid his face in the neck of his anorak and Sakura furrowed her brow.

“I’m really trying, but you know I’m not good at memory things…”

She sighed.

“I could help you, you know” he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes wide. “I could make you some timelines and a summary with the most important points, and you can come home to review at the weekend.”

“Really?!” he threw his arms around her. “You’re the best!” he seemed to think about it for a moment. “After Hinata, of course.”

He let go with a big smile and kept on walking, his steps longer and with a small happy gait. However, he stopped just before reaching her door.

“But, what about your entrance exams, Sakura-chan? You start them in February, right?”

She smiled and punched him lightly on the arm.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m a very diligent girl and I’m ahead of my study plan.”

He seemed relieved.

“And? Are you going to tell me which university are you aiming at?”

Sakura frowned and marched to the gate.

“No. I don’t want you to laugh at me if I can’t enter in my first option.”

“Oh, come on. You know I wouldn’t do that” she shook her head stubbornly. “Okay, but it’s not as if you’re aiming for Todai, you know…”

She turned her face away to avoid him seeing the blush that warmed her face despite the cold.

“You can go now to see your match” she opened the door. “And if your mum asks, you walked me to the door.”

“Yes!” he turned around and ran down the street, waving at her.

Sakura moved her head, chuckling as she heard the loud noise his fence made when he slammed it shut, and then, she entered. She was quite often surprised by the sharp intuition her friend possessed, even though sometimes he said things without thinking. And he was right once again, as Todai University was one of the two options she had written on her career survey before the summer holidays. Years before, she had made the decision of being a doctor, when her mother had taken her by the hand, they had walked to a park and there, sitting on a bench, she had told her that one day soon she would not be with her anymore, that she had to be a good girl so her father would not worry, and that she had to become a beautiful strong woman who knew how to face what awaited her in life.

She breathed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment so she could ease the pain in her heart. She was trying hard to accomplish all that. She had learnt not to cry in front of her father, and to make him smile when he was sad. She had kept her lifelong friends and she had made some more along the way. She had hidden her hurt when her father had started talking about the woman he had met when he was in the department store while he was looking for a present for her sixteenth birthday, when she thought that he would love her mother till the end of his life… She had been a brilliant student, earning merits, getting the best marks in all the subjects, and she had chosen the best public university so his father had not had to pay the expensive fee of a private one. Though she had chosen Keio University as a second option at her homeroom teacher’s insistence, her only aim was Todai.

Just in front of the door of the house, she breathed deeply once again, trying to calm herself so her father would not guess any of her thoughts. After all, she had to be a good girl until the end.

TO BE CONTINUED

#Naruto #fanfic #ssm19 #ssm19d4 #sasusakumonth #Uchiha Sasuke #Haruno Sakura #SasuSaku #OTP

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evilrubberducke · 5 years

Note

Fanfic Request: IzuMina; Mina running on a treadmill while connected to a heart monitor as part of a stress test, the stress proving too much for Mina's heart, resulting in a massive heart attack and Izuku must revive her. Feel free to tweak this to your liking.

Thanks so much for the request. This ended up being so fun to write, I went a little bit longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy nonetheless, and have an excellent day!

Disclaimer: I have 0 medical knowledge, so any medical escapades should be taken with a massive grain of salt, and not attempted at home.

Summary: Preparation for midterms has left the entirety of Class 1A stressed out, but for one particular couple the stress is just the beginning.

Trigger warning: Heart attack

Also on AO3!

Izuku thought to himself for the thousandth time. He slammed his palm into the wall in frustration, cracking the plaster. After more than two years of intense training, even his unaugmented blows were a force to be reckoned with.

He sat outside Recovery Girl’s office on a small and surprisingly comfortable bench. He didn’t feel it though. His mind was stuck firmly on the girl lying in the office right now, wishing desperately that he could do something to help her

The signs had been there for days now, but he hadn’t heeded them. He’s let himself be brushed off, be distracted, be fooled. And now she was paying the price.

It was exam season at UA, and Mina had been both nervous beyond belief, and dedicated to the extreme. Coming into the midterms of their second year had left them all with a lot to prove, but Mina had even more reason to fight. She had been one of the few to fail the exams the first year, both written and physical. She’d come a very long way since that point, and the girl who now attended UA would have been difficult to recognize when compared to her past self.

She had thrown herself into training with great gusto, putting in extra time after classes wrapped up for the day working on both her physical strength and sparring. The class had gained a healthy respect for the pink girl’s talent and reflexes when it came to hand to hand. She wasn’t winning every fight, but she was winning a majority, and in their class that was worthy of great respect.

Done with the physical part of the day, she would bury her nose in a textbook while she ate. She somehow managed to make conversation while doing this, but it was half hearted at best. Her usual bubbly presence had dimmed, and it brought the mood of the entire class.

For Izuku, it was particularly difficult.

The pair hadn’t been on a date in two weeks, which was unusual for them. Mina loved coming up with ideas for them to spend time together, even if it was just a brief jaunt to a shop she had heard of near campus that had just opened.

She still cuddled with him in the evenings, like usual, but even that had taken on a different air. She did her best to steer the conversations, trying to get him to talk about the hero battles he had watched religiously growing up. At first he had been relieved, thinking this was a new method of stress relief she was trying. Eventually he realized that this was just another study method for her.

A part of him had wanted to say something, but every time he tried to, he stopped short. Her training was beyond intense, yes, but was he really one to talk. His own training for UA had been very draconian. So instead of saying something, he tried to be there for her as best he could, slipping in jokes and funny stories as they talked into the evenings while he ran his fingers through her hair.

It was two days before the exams were set to start, and Mina was looking run down. Her skin had lost a lot of its usual luster, and her eyes were half open at the best of times. The entire class had noticed, and had tried to bring it up gently to her.

She brushed it off, making a crack about Izuku keeping her up too late the night before, wiggling her eyebrows all the while.

Most took the joke as a good sign. It was a return to form for their friend, if only slightly. Besides, there was only two more days till exams. After that, everything would be fine.

Izuku was even more worried though. He’d had to practically throw her out of his room the night before, trying to get her to go to bed. She had promised him she would go right to sleep. She didn’t know that he’d followed her up later, and had seen the light coming from under her doorway as she studied. She didn’t know he’d heard her muttering, telling herself that she needed to push harder to keep her place, to stand on the same stage as her classmates. To fight on the level of the boy she loved.

He hadn’t known what to say. He didn’t have the words to reassure her, because he knew those questions all too well. Knew how they ate at you in the dark hours. Knew how they pushed you to fight, for fear of what answering them meant.

So he had turned, and left. And later, he would regret that decision immensely.

“Mind if I join you?” Mina asked, breaking Izuku out of his funk.

He’d been taking a rare opportunity between classes to put in some extra training time of his own before exams. He was confident when it came to academics, and had a few tricks up his sleeve for the practical portion, but a little extra strength training never hurt.

He slowed the treadmill down to a much more sustainable pace, and nodded at her. He was panting to hard at the moment for any real conversation to take place.

Mina fired up her own treadmill, quickly matching his pace. The couple had trained together quite a bit during their time at UA, so matching each other had become almost second nature.

They ran in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being their panting breaths.

Finally, Izuku could take it no longer. “Mina, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure” She said, panting heavily. Her eyes were trained forward, but Izuku could see she wasn’t really focused on her movements. She seemed to be drifting.

“I….I’m worried about you. I get that you want to do well on the exam, but it feels like you’re pushing yourself way too hard.”

“I’m fine” she said, raising the speed on the treadmill a few notches. It takes her from a steady jog to the barest edge of a sprint.

“Mina, I haven’t seen you take a break in days. The exam is tomorrow. You need rest.” He’d said it as gently as he could, but it only seemed to make things worse.

“I don't… have time… for a break.” Mina panted. She’s running too fast, form starting to break down. Even still, she kept increasing the pace, not caring about her running form any more.

“Mina, you’re going to do fine tomorrow. You’re going to blow the test out of the water. But only if you rest.” A quick button press brought the treadmill he was using to a halt.

He turned to face Mina, taking in her loping strides that are just barely keeping pace with the treadmill. He takes in the arm held tight to her chest to fight against the pain she’s feeling. Her normally vibrant skin has faded and dulled, making her look more haggard than he’s ever seen.

He takes a moment to glance around the gym, thankful that they’re alone for once. He turns back to his girlfriend, and pulls out his last trump card.

“Frosting, can you stop for me?” It’s a private nickname, one the rest of the class will never hear uttered by either of them. It’s a name he only uses when he’s holding her close, said in whispers only she can hear. It’s a name that shows how much he cares for her.

It takes a moment, but she stops. The whir of the treadmill fades away, as do the thud of her footsteps, leaving only her gasping breaths.

It was then that Izuku realized something was very wrong. They had fought together and against each other many times over the last year and half. He knew what she looked like exhausted, and this was something very different.

“I-Izu I…..I don’t…. Something’s…..” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before she dropped like a stone.

Izuku lunged forward, barly catching her shoulder and keeping her head from smacking into the ground. Her horns scraped against his shoulder, but he paid it no mind. His thoughts were on something much more important.

“Mina! Talk to me! Mina!”

She isn’t moving, head lolled back, eyes unfocused and unreactive.

“Mina!” He shook her as hard as he dared, but she didn’t respond. He placed his fingers on her throat and found only a weak pulse, her breath barely discernible.

His mind kicked into overdrive. He didn’t have anything resembling medical training, but he was sure this wasn’t a normal illness, or even exhaustion. This was something serious, and something he didn’t have the capacity to handle.

He scooped her limp form into his arms and called on his Quirk. Red lines of power surged across his limbs, resolving into bolts of green lightning. Strength rushed through him, and he broke into a flat out sprint, not caring about the small cracks he was leaving in the floor. They could be repaired. Mina could not.

His experience with Shoot Style payed dividends as he ran, letting him easily kick open doors as he went without breaking stride. He made a beeline for Recovery Girl’s office, leaping around and over students and other obstacles. He thought he heard some familiar voices calling his name, but couldn’t spare the time to see who it was.

It takes far too long to get to Recovery Girl’s office in Izuku’s opinion. Sure, with how much force he put behind every leap, the entire journey can’t have taken more than a minute, but that’s a minute that Mina might not have been able to spare.

He tried to kick the door open, forgetting that this one was a sliding style entry, rather than a swinging door. It flew off its hinges and crashed into the wall beyond. He mentally added it to the tab of things he was going to catch hell for later.

The office was well light, open, and completely empty. Recovery Girl was nowhere to be seen. Izuku felt his pulse quicken even more than it already had been. He’d been counting on her being there, to help Mina, or to tell him what to do.

A soft gasp from Mina drew his attention to her once more. Her eyes had rolled back in her head. Izuku checker her pulse, and his stomach dropped. He couldn’t feel anything.

He spun around, searching the office desperately for something to help, but found nothing. The instruments were all entirely foreign to him, and he couldn’t even begin to guess at their function.

“Midoriya?” Came a voice from behind him.

He turned, and saw Uraraka, Jirou, and Kaminari standing in the doorway, worried looks on their faces.

HIs eyes snapped to Kaminari, and in that moment he concieved a desperate plan. He lunged forward, grabbing Kaminari’s arm and dragged the boy into the office with him. He set Mina on the bed as quickly as he could without hurting her, then turned to his blond classmate.

“Mina’s heart stopped. I need you to shock her, right now.” His voice has an edge to it, that pierces through the panic. It lends an air to his words, that lets those who hear them know that what he’s saying isn’t a request, but an order. In the moment, none of them can quite place where they’ve heard such a tone before.

It’s only later that they will remember hearing it from their teachers in the many times that they’ve been in peril, or from pro heroes in dire straights.

It’s the tone of a Hero who’s saving someone’s life.

Kaminari blanches. He may be hearing the words, but the meaning behind them paralyzes him. He’s never attempted anything like this, isn’t even sure he can do it.

“Midoriya I-I can’t. I don’t know how to.”

A dozen scenarios run through Izuku’s head. He might be able to convince Kaminari to try, might be able to talk the blonde through his panic, but it will take much too long, and Mina can’t afford to wait that long. Instead, Izuku opts for the strategy that will get her the most help quickly.

It’s a quick calculation, weighing the damage it will do to his relationships and friends against the possibility of Mina suffering for even a second longer than necessary. The risk to his own body doesn’t even enter into the calculation.

Izuku keeps a file on every Quirk user he encounters, cataloging any strengths and weaknesses he observes, and remembering them in case he encounters a similar Quirk in the future. In doing this, he’s amassed quite a lot of observations about his classmate’s Quirks. He knows that Dark Shadow wilts in the light, that Tsuyu shuts down in the cold, and that Jirou is vulnerable to loud noises. Most importantly, he knows that Kaminari activates his Quirk instinctively when he takes damage unexpectedly.

Izuku placed his left hand on Mina’s heart, and grabbed Kaminari’s hand in his right. He activated One for All once more, counting on it to help him absorb most of the voltage that was about to come. He sent a silent prayer that his resistance would be just enough to limit the damage, but not enough to block the electricity from reaching Mina entirely.

Then he broke Kaminari’s finger in one swift motion.

The effect is immediate. Electricity coursed through all three of them, and Izuku grit his teeth through the pain. It tore at his senses even as it coursed through his body, but he was more than passingly familiar with pain. After you’ve torn your body to pieces willingly to land a single punch, you learn how to deal with pain.

After a long second, he put as much willpower as he could muster into opening his hand and releasing Kaminari. The blond stumbled back, face devolving into a idiotic grin as the electricity began to fade.

Izuku only had eyes for Mina though. A long moment passed where nothing happened. Then Mina convulsed, and gasped. Objectively, it was a horrible, rattling gasp that should have sent shivers down Izuku’s spine, but in the moment it was the sweetest sound he could have heard.

The combination of relief and electrical shock finally overwhelm him, and he fell backwards, slamming painfully into the floor below, not even making a move to catch himself.

Uraraka rushed forward to help her friend, and Jirou did the same for Kaminari. The rapid fire events had left them reeling, and they were only just now catching up.

“What happened in here?” Recovery girl asked as she stepped through the destroyed entryway. She looked more than a little upset to see her carefully tidied office in shambles. When she caught sight of Izuku, she sighed deeply. “I should have known. I step out for five minutes and you’re creating chaos. What’s happened this time? Have you managed to break even more of your bones?”

Izuku shook his head weakly. “Mina” He pointed to the gurney next to him. “She stopped breathing. Used Kaminari to shock her.”

Recovery Girl’s eyes went wide, and she moved over to Mina’s side. She quickly examined the girl, checking her heartbeat, breathing, and pupils. When she was done, Izuku had managed to shake off most of the lingering effects of the shock.

“I hate to say it, but I think in this situation, you made the right call.” Recovery girl said, settling into her chair. “It seems Young Ashido suffered a heart attack, likely due to severe stress. She seems to be suffering from malnutrition and dehydration as well.” She shook her head sadly.

She kicked them out immediately following her exam, pausing only to heal the damage Izuku and Kaminari had taken, telling them to go to class, and not to worry. Thanks to her healing, all Mina needed was a bit of rest before she felt a lot better.

Izuku couldn’t just go back, not when Mina was right there. If she needed him, he wanted to be there. He parked himself on a convenient bench across from the office, not responding to any of his friend’s questions or attempts to speak to him. He simply sat and stared at the door.

Izuku could afford to skip class, but the rest weren’t quite so lucky. They reluctantly left their friend sitting there, promising to return when class was done, and to let everyone know that he and Mina were ok. Izuku nodded slightly at that, which they took to be a good sign.

When Recovery Girl emerges from her office, she doesn’t look surprised at all to see him sitting there. She looks resigned instead.

“She’s waking up now. It will do her good to have a friendly face when she does.”

Izuku practically bolts out of his seat to enter. Mina is still lying on the cot where he placed her before, though Recovery Girl apparently took the time to cover her with a thin blanket.

He could see her eyelids fluttering as he stepped closer. He reached out and gently took her hand. A moment later, she squeezed it lightly.

“Izu?” Her voice was faint, and more than a little confused. “What happened?”

“We were working out, and you collapsed. I brought you to Recovery Girl. You…” He paused, not quite sure how to break it to her. “Mina you had a heart attack.”

She shocked Izuku by laughing weakly. “Guess I really screwed up, huh?”

“Quite” Recovery Girl said from her desk. The elderly hero was filling out paperwork, probably relating to Mina’s condition. “You’re not the first student to exhaust themself before exams, but yours is one of the more extreme cases. I’ve healed the damage from the attack, as well as your sweethearts impromptu treatment, but you still need rest. I can only heal the effects of illness, not the cause.”

She ripped the lower half of the paper shed been writing on off and handed it to Izuku, then faced Mina. “Three days of rest with NO TRAINING. Study if you must, but keep it to an absolute minimum. I’ll speak to Aizawa about getting you an exam extension. Keep in mind that this is a one time deal, and only because this is the first time I’ve seen you in my office all year, unlike someone I know.” She aimed a pointed glare at Izuku who even now was her most frequent visitor by a country mile.

A pager on her hip heroes loudly, and she snatched it up with a sigh. “And yet another poor soul needs healing. Please excuse me, but stay until you feel completely better. And remember, no training!” With that, she strode out of the door, which had been clumsily reattached, closing it behind her.

“Well, there goes my ‘least time in the nurse’s office’ record.” Mina said ruefully.

Izuku didn’t respond, and she turned her head to look at him. He still held tight to get hand, but there was a very distant look in his eyes.

“I’m kinda disappointed actually. I liked holding that over Kirishima’s head.”

Izuku nodded slightly at that, and Mina got the distinct impression that he wasn’t listening to a word she was saying.

“I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that I’m pregnant, huh?”

This time he didn’t even nod, just continued to stare into space. Mina rolled her eyes, and flicked her boyfriend in the forehead. It was unusual to see him spaced out without a stream of muttered observations streaming out of him.

“You know, it’s considered polite to listen when people are talking to you.” She teased. She was feeling stronger now, almost back to normal. Or at least as normal as she had felt in the last few weeks, which meant gritty, run down, and struggling to keep her eyes from folding closed.

He blinked, coming back to his body. He looked at her for a moment, and then his face crumpled. All of the emotions that he had been holding inside came flooding out, and his eyes overflowed with tears. It wasn’t the first time Mina had seen him cry, but the fat droplets surprised her every time.

“M-Mina I was…I was so worried!” He sobbed, planting his face into her shoulder.

She reached her arms around his shaking shoulders and pulled him close. She felt a prickle at the back of her own eyes. The collapse had been traumatizing for her as well, and when combined with all the stress she’d been under, it was a heavy burden to bear. She’d been unconsciously dealing with it in the same way she had been during the last week, pushing the feelings down and hiding under a layer of humor.

Now, given a chance to release, she cried too, tears coming close to matching Izuku’s. In short order, they each had a large wet patch on their shirts from the other’s tears. They didn’t speak, merely held each other close as they let all their feelings out in one long burst.

Eventually, they both ran short of tears. They pulled back slightly, but neither was willing to let go completely. They linked their arms, and leaned against each other, taking comfort from the other’s warmth.

“I’m sorry” Izuku said softly.

“Don’t be.” Mina replied. “It was….I needed a good cry. It helped.”

Izuku nodded, understanding exactly what she felt. He felt exhausted, but relieved, like a weight he hadn’t known he’d been carrying had finally been lifted.

“It was hard. Seeing you like that. I didn’t know what to do, or how to help you. I was scared.”

She squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture, but she could feel a smile tugging at her face. “I’m sorry? Mr. Self Sacrifice found it tough to see someone he cares about hurt? Welcome to my world.”

Izuku smiled as well. He knew he had been tough on Mina in the past, and given her more than one hospital scare.

“I know, now more than ever. I’ll try to be better in the future.”

“Only try?”

“I am what I am.” He said with a shrug.

Mina laughed at that, a full body stomach laugh this time. Izuku joined in a moment later. It was difficult having a reputation as class problem child, but Izuku had come to embrace the role.

“I love you Sparks” Mina said softly.

He pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Love you too Frosting.” She flushed a little. A part of her always loved hearing her call her that. He said it in a way that made her feel like the most special person in the world.

As much as she wanted to stay like that forever, Mina knew they should get going. She may have a mandate to avoid studying, but Izuku doesn’t. She groaned as she stood, flexing her back to work out a few of the kinks that had developed while she slept. Izuku stood as well, watching her carefully for signs of relapsing.

“Let’s head back to the dorms.” Mina said. “Everyone’s in class right now, so we’ll have the dorms to ourselves for a while.”

Izuku raised an eyebrow at that. “There’s still Modern Heroics left today. I probably shouldn’t skip more class this close to exams.”

Mina let a mischievous grin cross her face. “You sure about that? You know how easily I get bored when I don’t have someone to talk to. I might even decide to do a bit of training to relieve my boredom…”

“Don’t you dare!” He said in mock outrage. He knew she was sensible enough not to try anything, but still felt it prudent to stop that line of joking right here and now.

“You’re gonna have to cuddle me if you want to be extra sure.”

He smiled a wide and honest smile that always lifted Mina’s heart when she saw it. It was bright, and good, and so very beautiful. And it looked perfect on her boyfriend’s face.

“Now that, I can definitely do.”

The couple walked arm in arm, ready to enjoy some much needed R&R, perfectly content to be in the arms of their lover once more.

#mha #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #izumina #midoriya izuku #mina ashido #fanfic request #heart attack #fluff and angst #bnha

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