#I can breathe normally now so I will focus tonight on replying to the messages I have left behind

[dangaer]

might break tradition and make either a lucifer pinned graphic or promo ...

[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

Do You Feel Better, My Love?

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans/GN!Reader

Summary: You get a message from your ex and you spiral into a panic attack. When your partners come home, they find you in the middle of a panic attack and help you through it.

Reader is gender neutral. No pronouns are used.

Ex is referred to as she/her.

WARNINGS: referenced bad relationship (past relationship), panic attack

Notes: I am anti-JKR and her beliefs. This account is a safe space for all.

As another note, the technique James used to get the reader out of their panic attack is one I’ve used for others many times after being taught it and I’ve had a couple of friends use it for me. From what I was taught, your brain can’t focus on the panic attack and random numbers at the same time.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here

You were coming home after getting some things for your date tonight. As you open the door, you hear your phone notify you of a text. You smile thinking it’s from James or Lily (your dates) and after you finish putting things down, you look at your phone.

Except it wasn’t from either of them, it was from your abusive ex.

You drop your phone and back into the wall, sliding down. ‘Why now?’ You thought. ‘Why did they have to come back now?’

Your breathing got very shallow, very fast, and you couldn’t think. You tried to get yourself out of it, but you just couldn’t. You couldn’t remember any of the techniques.

It felt like everything was going in slow motion and you covered your ears, trying to stop the world from getting to you.

You had no idea how long it had been, but you wanted everything to just stop. Then you heard a voice; you don’t know how far away it is. You couldn’t make out what they (you could hear two different voices) were saying.

“Hey, love, it’s James,” he said to you. “Can you look up at me?”

You were still freaking out, and you ended up moving your head trying to find where James’ voice came from. When you moved your head to the side, he put his hands on your cheeks to hold you still and thats when you saw him; your James.

“Alright, I need you to listen to my voice and repeat after me,” James told you as calmly as he could. “Alright. One.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Two.”

“Nine.”

“Nine.”

“Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two.”

“Seventy.”

“Seventy.”

He gave you a few more random numbers with you repeating all of them, until he heard your breathing return to normal.

“Do you feel better, my love?”

“Yes, Jamie,” you replied as you smiled and leaned into one of his hands. “Where’s Lily?”

“I’m just behind you, angel,” you heard Lily whisper behind you. “What happened?”

You looked down, “my phone.” James started moving, but before he could get up, you told him, “stop. Please.” He moved and leaned against the wall, you turned and leaned into him, finally seeing Lily since she walked in. Both of them looked at you kindly while they were patiently waiting for you to carry on.

“My ex contacted me today for the first time since I finally cut off contact with her,” you told them. “I got a message from her. I don’t know what it said and I don’t want to know. She took too much time away from me before, and I don’t want her back in my life.”

“You’re doing the right thing, lovey,” James tells you as he holds you to him.

“Alright, I’m getting your phone and deleting the message,” Lily told you. She handed it to you, so you put in your passcode before handing it back to her. She deleted the messages and blocked your ex’s number from your phone, before she handed it back to you.

He asked, “how about we move to somewhere more comfortable?”

You nodded at him, fresh tears flowing but now because you were happy at how you evolved; you had an abusive ex who treated you like you meant nothing, to having a beautiful relationship with two amazing people, who often reminded you how amazing you were and how much you deserved to be loved.

James saw the tears, “are you alright?”

“Perfect,” you told them through your tears. “I’m crying because of how happy the two of you make me, and how both of you make me feel so incredible and empowered.”

Lily hugged you and you kissed her cheek, before James picked you up, and carried you bridal style, “where would you like us to be? Living room or bedroom?”

“Bedroom, please,” you told him

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you heard Lily call from behind you.

You kissed his cheek as he carried you through to the bedroom the three of you shared. He placed you gently on the bed, before moving onto the bed himself and pulling you to him. He kissed all over your face making you giggle and when he pulled back, he cupped your face and kissed you gently on the lips.

“I love you so much,” he told you with so much sincerity and so much love. It made you blush and tear up. “I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.”

“I love your incredible smile,” Lily said from behind you. She crawled onto the bed behind you and you sat back against the headboard, so you could see both of them next to you.

“You always make me want to be a better person,” James told you as he caressed your cheek.

You took their hands as Lily kissed you and James kissed where your neck and shoulder met, making you moan. All three of you spent the day together just kissing, cuddling and with them reminding you how much they loved you and how much better off you were without your ex and how proud they were of you.

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 687

McCoy

McCoy was sitting in classes the next morning when the message arrived on his PADD. He glanced at the blinking notification, turned it off and waited until class was over to read the message. He hadn’t recognized the sender after all.

Sitting down in his next class, he had a few moments before the teacher began, so he opened the message.

As McCoy’s eyes scanned the lines his heart began to race, yet his stomach dropped. He had indeed been selected for the job shadow with Dr. Lane. The little excitement that was making his heart beat was mixed with the thought that they would have to go through with the plan. And he really hoped Christine wouldn’t be actually upset.

As the class began he carefully typed a message to her, happy in the knowledge that Scotty had encrypted their PADDs.

Just got notified I got picked for Dr. Lane.

He hit send and then sat, trying to focus on the teacher.

I just got mine that thanked me for applying. Congratulations Leonard! You’re gonna have so much fun!!

McCoy smiled weakly. He really hoped Christine wasn’t too put out. After all, she did really want to see her boyfriend. Perhaps when he met Dr. Lane, he could put in a really good word for Christine. Maybe he could still get her a chance to meet the doctor.

Suppose you really have to yell at me in front of everyone now.

He let out a quiet breath. The sooner they took down Jocelyn, the sooner it could all be normal again.

I’ll think of all my best insults.

McCoy held back a laugh. He could only imagine how creative she may get.

At lunch he was quiet until Scotty finally asked if something was wrong.

“I got the job shadow,” he whispered to his fiancé.

Scotty’s face lit up.

“Does she know?” he asked, meaning Christine.

McCoy nodded.

“When?”

“After dinner.”

“What’s with the whispering?” Jim called over.

McCoy and Scotty both looked up. Jim was grinning.

“Oh, you know Jim, just planning that next bedroom adventure you think we’re always having,” McCoy raised an eyebrow.

“Alright!” Jim’s grin grew broader. A collective groan went up from the rest of their friends.

“Have fun!” Jim called behind them as McCoy and Scotty made for the stairs of the boy’s dorm.

“That lad…” Scotty shook his head and laughed.

“You can give me some comfort tonight,” McCoy grinned slyly. “Right now I have some messages to send and calls to make. There’s more info I have to send for the job shadow and I’m sure security arrangements have to be made.”

“And the longer ye avoid her, the madder Chris can pretend to be,” Scotty added.

“Yeah, that too, I guess,” McCoy said flatly.

“It won’t be long love,” Scotty said, “and it’ll be worth it to take down that witch.”

“I know,” McCoy agreed. “I just wish all this wasn’t happening.”

Part 688

Robbie

Even though he didn't know what was going on, Robbie could clearly sense some tension between the other students. Especially Christine seemed to be on the edge about something and when the Scotsman saw the very disappointed look on his friend's face during a class they shared, he couldn't help but worry.

As soon as the bell rang, he got up and gently grabbed Christine's arm.

"Hey there, are ye okay?"

She turned around to face him, anger and sadness written all over her face.

"What? Your brother didn't tell you?"

Robbie blinked in confusion, then shook his head.

"Tell me what?"

Christine huffed, before she burst out.

"That Leonard chose to destroy my hopes and dreams? That he applied for the job shadowing day with Dr. Lane?"

Oh... right. Job shadowing day. So that was the reason why everyone was so tense. They were probably all waiting for a reply.

And apparently Christine had received a rejection.

"I take it they chose him over ye?" Robbie carefully asked and his friend continued to glare at him.

"Of course they did! He's a prince! I'm nothing compared to him!"

Several heads of the students not gone yet turned around to face them and from the corner of his eyes Robbie saw a few others whispering.

"He knows how important being a doctor is to me! I can't believe that he stole that chance from me just like that."

There were tears in Christine's eyes and Robbie didn't know what to say or do. He reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled it away and left the room.

At lunch, Robbie had to sit with Aaron and didn't get the chance to talk to Leonard about the incident with Christine. Archer had asked him to explain the most important things the lad had to do as new head boy.

When they were done talking, Scotty and Leonard were already gone from the dining room.

But instead of going to their room, Robbie headed to the lounge to search for Christine. He was disappointed though. The lass was nowhere to be found.

But someone else was there.

Jocelyn. She was talking to some girls, chuckling at something one of them had said.

When her eyes met Robbie's, the Scotsman quickly turned his head away. He didn't want anything to do with that witch.

It was after dinner when everything eventually escalated. Robbie was sitting on the couch with Pavel, talking about their next piano lesson. Some of the others were playing cards or doing their homework.

Christine was chatting with Uhura when the door opened and Scotty and Leonard came in.

If eyes could kill, the prince would have collapsed right away, but he got the chance to walk over to her.

"Chris-"

Christine didn't let him finish.

"How dare you? How dare you even talk to me after everything you've done!"

Robbie exchanged a quick glance with other friends. What were they supposed to do?

[kiyosamu]

back up.

---♡---

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader

genre: dark, angst, (slight) enemies to comfort, some comedy in the beginning. // one shot, 3.9k words

synopsis: being the younger sister of the miya twins definitely has its advantages and its... disadvantages. sure, it comes with all of the teasing from both them and their friends, but it gets more serious when people hold grudges on them and try to take out their anger on you.

content warnings: descriptions of assault, threats, sexual assault (no penetration), violence, injuries

---♡---

“Osamu!” You screeched, attempting to push your older brother off of you. “Get him off!”

Atsumu had tackled you to the ground and was sitting on your back, cackling with satisfaction as he pinned you down.

“I can’t help ya.” Osamu smirked as he walked by. He sat on the couch adjacent to you and Atsumu with an amused glimmer in his eyes. “Shouldn’t have eaten his pudding.”

“Why do you care if I eat his pudding?!” You growled, thrashing around under Atsumu to get some kind of leverage while he sat on you with all of his weight, rendering your limbs useless.

“If you eat his pudding, then he eats mine.” Osamu shrugged, “And I hate it when he does that.”

“Take it up with him! I just grabbed whatever was closest. You guys are so weird with your labeled food!” You tried to throw a punch at Atsumu and he caught your fist easily, snickering when you let out a loud whine. “Atsumu, get OFF!”

“No can do, kiddo.” He grinned, “Ya know what happens when you eat our food.”

“I’m gonna tell mom.” You mumbled.

“That’s dirty. Don’t bring mom into this.” Osamu interrupted and you shot a death glare at him.

“Stop involving yourself! I don’t need your commentary.”

“Don’t be such a tattle tale.” Atsumu teased, finally easing up on you and taking a bit of the weight off of your back. You gasped dramatically as you could finally take a full, deep breath.

“Thank you, god. You’re heavy.” You said quietly, deciding to fully submit and just lay down on the living room floor.

“Did you just call me fat?!” Atsumu gasped, crawling over to your face to look you in the eyes.

“Yes.” You nodded. Atsumu immediately turned to Osamu, who burst out laughing at his offended expression.

“Laugh it up, ‘Samu. If I’m fat then so are you.” Atsumu muttered as he finally stood up to take a seat next to Osamu on the couch.

“I can’t stand either of you.” You mumbled, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at them.

“Why’s baby Miya throwing a temper tantrum?” A familiar, monotone voice was coming from the entry way. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“None of your business, Suna.” You glared at the tall boy. He responded with a crooked smirk while he walked in with his hands plunged deep in his pockets.

Suna was over at your house almost every day. He also teased you as much as your brothers did, if not more.

“Jeez, what’s with the attitude?” He snorted, “You sound like Atsumu. I swear you’re triplets.”

Suna jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down between the twins. You sat up, looking at the three of them for a second before getting up and retreating to your room.

“Aw, come on baby Miya. Where are you going?” Suna called after you while you walked down the hallway.

“I need to get ready. I’m going out tonight.”

You retreated to your bedroom and sat down at your vanity. Before you could even pull out a hair brush, Osamu had burst into your bedroom.

“Where ya going?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Out?” You replied, getting up to sift through your closet for something to wear.

Your friend had set you up on a blind date tonight. Your mom had held your brothers back a year and since you were only 10 months apart, you were all in the same year. This meant you all had the same classmates, knew all of the same people, and they were constantly in your business.

When your friend had told you about this guy, he sounded too good to be true. He had gone to another school that was a bit further away, but since you had all graduated a few months prior you figured a bit of distance wasn’t that big of a deal. After all, you were all adults now.

“Out where?” Atsumu asked, pushing the door open all the way and standing against the other side of the frame.

“On a date…” you muttered. The moment you said that, your brothers came in and promptly sat on your bed.

“Where are you going?”

“With who?”

“Where did you meet him?”

“How old is he?”

“Is he picking you up?”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Oh my god.” You groaned, pointing at your door. “Can you guys get out? I need to get ready. Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Believe it or not, kiddo, we just want to make sure you’re safe.” Osamu said, standing up and walking over to pat you on your head.

“Ugh, ‘Samu, you guys don’t have to treat me like a kid still. I’m an adult now, you know.” You said, crossing your arms.

“But you’ll always be our little sister.” Atsumu smiled. “Mom can’t keep track of all of us all the time. So we need to do it for her.” His words were genuine. Even though the three of you bickered and teased each other, you were protective of each other. You knew your brothers would do anything for you.

You’d never tell them, but you’d do anything for them, too.

“If anyone needs keeping track of, it’s you two.” You smirked. Atsumu rolled his eyes and Osamu shrugged you off.

Your brothers tried to pry more information out of you, but you only told them the bare minimum. After all, you barely even knew anything. You didn’t even know his name.

“So? Where’s she going?” Suna asked as the twins came back into the living room. He was sprawled out on the couch and flicking through the tv channels.

“That restaurant downtown. The one a few bus stops before your house.” Atsumu said with crossed arms. “She won’t let us drive her.”

“I’ll take the bus with her.” Suna shrugged, “It’s on the way, so I’ll make sure she gets there safely.”

“Good. Then you can tell us who she’s meetin’ there.” Osamu smirked.

Whether or not Osamu had asked, Suna was planning on finding that out regardless.

“Call is if you need anythin’!” Atsumu called to you as you walked to the door.

“We’ll come! Just call us, okay?” Osamu added.

“I’ll be fine, but thanks. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.” You said loud enough for them to hear you in the other room. “Love you.”

“Love ya!” They replied in unison.

—

“Are you sure you’re not just spying on me?” You mumbled just loud enough for Suna to hear you from the seat behind you.

“Just decided to go home, baby Miya.” He replied, leaning forward. “Why? Do you want me to spy on you?”

“No!” You turned around and squinted your eyes at him. He looked back at you with a playful smirk and then went back to paying attention to his phone.

You got off the bus and hesitated for a moment, half expecting Suna to get off after you.

Except he didn’t.

You sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up and realizing you really were all alone now. Meeting a man you didn’t know, and unsure of what to expect.

You looked around and pulled out your phone to check the message from your friend again to refresh yourself on the characteristics of your blind date.

Dark hair, about 5’10, dark green eyes, ah-

“Miya, is it?” A man fitting the exact description was standing in front of you, a rose in hand and suspicious smirk across his lips.

“Yes, sorry, what’s your name?” Your voice was trembling and you had no idea why. You chalked it up to nerves, but it might’ve been the uneasiness you’d felt when you made eye contact with him.

“Daishou Suguru.” He said melodically. He handed you the rose and lightly pressed his hand to your lower back. “Shall we go inside? I have a table for us.”

You nodded, walking inside with him.

——

“So, Miya, any relation to those twins?” He asked, leaning in with his chin on his palm. He stared at you intently as if he wanted to soak in every word you were about to say.

“Oh, yeah. They’re my brothers.” You smiled. Even though they irritated you, you always liked to talk about them. You were proud of your brothers and all of their accomplishments, and talking about them was easier than having to come up with things to say about yourself.

“Ah,” Daishou nodded, thanking the server as she passed your dishes to the two of you. “Those two are real shit talkers, huh?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, a bit too casually for the occasion and realized you’d never even heard this guy’s name prior to tonight. “Wait, why do you say that?”

You were familiar with pretty much all of the volleyball players that your brothers had faced off against. Inarizaki’s own team were like family, but the other teams were around so often you’d gotten to know quite a few of the players from other schools just by going to the games and tournaments.

“Played against them once.” Daishou mumbled, the previously warm expression in his eyes was gone. “I don’t know which one I hate more. The mouthy setter or the spiker with the ego.”

You got goosebumps when he spoke these words. These weren’t normal rivalry grudges. This sounded like pure, unprecedented hatred.

You started to feel uncomfortable.

You hummed in acknowledgement. You weren’t sure how to reply, but you wanted him to know you’d heard him and were listening.

“So, how are you going to make it up to me?” Daishou asked. You froze, looking up at him.

His previously cold expression was warm again, cheeks round with a big smile. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you giggled nervously and decided to focus on eating your dinner.

The rest of the evening went by okay. Little comments like that would have you unsure if there were ulterior motives, but when you’d try to look into it you’d see a happy smile from your date. Maybe he really was just joking, and was nervously trying to make you laugh.

When it was time to go, Daishou paid for the both of you and you left the restaurant together.

It was dark outside and pouring rain. You sighed, looking down the street at the empty bus stop. The bus wouldn’t be coming for another 20 minutes.

“Let me wait with you for the bus.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist again. “I wouldn’t want you out here all alone.”

You reluctantly accepted but tried to keep your distance. While his arm was around you, your arms were crossed and you were trying to stay as far from him as possible. Something was off, and you wanted to get as far away from him as quickly as possible.

You sent your brothers a quick text to let them know which bus you’d be on.

“Let’s wait over here. Out of the rain.”

Before you could reply, he grabbed your hand and yanked you down a small alley. It was covered by the overhead of the buildings roof, but was pitch black.

“I had a nice time tonight.” Daishou purred, pressing his body against you and trapping you against the cold brick wall.

“Yeah, me too…” You said quietly.

Only a few more minutes.

Daishou leaned down, trailing his hand up your chest and wrapping his long fingers around your throat. Your breath hitched and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew something was wrong. You knew something was going to happen. Your gut feeling was never wrong.

You tensed up, preparing to punch him the moment you felt pressure from his fingers. Instead of choking you, however, his hand rested gingerly on your skin and he leaned down to kiss you.

You kissed back, completely uninterested but not wanting him to know that.

“So, you are easy.” He smirked against your lips. He grabbed your hands and held them against the wall. His tongue started to force its way into your mouth and as you tried to break away, his body pressed into you harder, making you unable to move.

“Please stop,” you whimpered, “I don’t- I don’t want this.”

“Just relax.” He dug his fingers into your wrist, holding both of your hands together with just one of his, and using his free hand to move down your body and fondle your chest.

“Daishou- I-“ you gasped when he bit down on your neck. It didn’t feel good at all, and was just a swearing pain.

“You know, it really is a shame that you’re related to those two.” He muttered against your skin. “You’re a pretty girl. Probably would’ve liked you had your shitty brothers not have been such dicks.”

“Please, please just get off-“ You sniffled. You fought your brothers all the time, so why couldn’t you get him off? Why were you tensing up? Why were you crying? Just push him off, just push and run.

“Shut up.” He muttered. He slipped his hand into your pants and you let out a sob.

“No, no! Get off of me! Stop!” You were crying now, your voice getting louder as you attempted to break from his hold.

Unfortunately, he was just too strong for you. He smacked you across the face and pressed his palm to your mouth.

“I told you to shut up.” He growled. “Blame the twins for this.”

You were sobbing now. Completely terrified as this man assaulted your body in this dark alley and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to get out of there. How badly you wished your brothers had spied on you, how much you wanted them to protect you in that moment.

Daishou glared at you as your wails got louder, pulling back and slapping you across the face so hard you thought you were seeing stars.

“That’s what happens when stupid girls like you don’t listen. Now be quiet!”

Your vision was blurred and dark and you thought you were about to pass out when you felt the weight of his body completely lifted off of you.

You immediately felt relief, not in the form of safety by any means but you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. The blow he’d given you to the head had you feeling dizzy and you sunk to the ground against the wall.

“You fucking-“ *whack*

“piece-“ *whack*

“of shit!” *whack*

You squinted your eyes open at the familiar voice. The same voice that had annoyed you earlier that afternoon. The voice that immediately gave you a sense of safety in that dark alley.

“Suna..?” You barely managed to squeak out. You were sure he didn’t hear you considering you could barely hear your own voice.

“You’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.” Suna spat, landing another punch directly to his face. “If you have issues with someone, take it up with them like a fucking man.” He growled. “Instead of preying on their little sister. You’re pathetic.”

Suna stood up off the ground and all you could do was watch through squinted eyes and your knees pulled to your chest.

He pulled something out of his pocket, it shined under the street lamps and you weren’t sure what it was. He grabbed Daishou by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stand up before pressing the object against his throat.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right here.”

You closed your eyes, covering your face in your arms when you heard Daishou start to sob. He sounded like you did a few minutes ago.

“I’d go to jail for her, no questions asked. Trust me when I tell you that I won’t hesitate.”

Suna was much bigger than him. Stronger. Taller.

“Hey,” Suna growled, pushing him against the brick wall. Daishou looked as light as a rag doll when Suna was throwing him around. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Please- I don’t- I’m sorry-“ Daishou choked out.

Suna laughed. A completely genuine laugh that made your skin crawl.

“Are you? Are you sorry?”

You looked back up at the two men, closer to you now and you could see that the object Suna had against his throat was a knife.

“Suna, wait-“ You tried to say to him, but your voice was still shaky and quiet.

Daishou was sobbing now, tears flowing from his eyes and wails ripping from his throat.

“Not so tough when you’re the one on the receiving end, huh?” Suna glared, putting his knife back in his pocket and throwing Daishou back onto the ground.

“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.” Suna said in a dark, low tone you hadn’t heard from him before. “And if you ever come near her again, I really will kill you.”

Daishou scrambled to his feet, holding his head and trying to stop the bleeding on his face that was surely from one of the rings Suna was wearing on his fingers.

You trembled against the wall, staring at Suna’s back as he watched Daishou leave. As soon as he was out of eyesight, he quickly turned to you and crouched down.

“Hey, it’s okay.” His voice softened, his gaze was kind and he hesitated before touching you. “Can I help you up? Can you stand?”

You nodded weakly and he crouched down, putting his arms under yours and standing you up. You could feel your legs wobbling and held onto his arm for support.

“Ugh,” He sighed, the pain in his voice coming through when he saw the true damage that’d been done to you. His hands carefully put you back together as best he could. He buttoned your shirt and pants back up, and shrugged off his jacket to put it on you instead.

You grabbed onto the sleeves and pulled them over your hands. It was even bigger than your brothers’ jackets, and you sunk into the soft material trying to grasp onto any little piece of comfort you could get.

Suna picked you up and held you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he supported you from under your legs.

“How did you know where to find me?” You asked, your voice still quiet and strained.

“They told me what bus you were taking home so I came to make sure you got on okay. When it came and left without you I got worried and looked around, and then I heard you crying.” Suna let out a stressed out breath, “You know, I really would’ve done it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You said, closing your eyes. You couldn’t even process what had just happened and didn’t know what you would’ve done if Suna wasn’t with you right now.

——

Suna’s house was only down the road, and you agreed to go there and get cleaned up before heading back home.

“Here,” Suna handed you a pair of comfortable pants and a t-shirt. “They’ll be way too long on you, but it’s better than your soaking wet clothes you’re wearing now.”

“Thanks…” you accepted the offer, stepping into the bathroom to change.

When you came out, Suna had changed too, but his eyes widened with shock when he saw the extent of your injuries.

He swore under his breath and approached you. When he reached out and touched your neck, his cool hand soothed the sting of the deep bite Daishou had embedded in your neck.

“Can’t believe he fucking bit you.” Suna’s voice was so quiet he was practically whispering, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just thinking out loud. He trailed his hand around your throat and pressed his fingers on the deep bruises forming from when you’d been choked.

“That helps,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. Suna pulled his hand back as if he wasn’t even aware he’d been touching you.

“What do you want to do now? Should we call Osamu and Atsumu? Want me to take you home?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and continued looking you over. Suna brushed your hair out of the way, inspecting your face closely and grunting when he looked straight on at the black eye starting to appear.

You winced when his thumb grazed over the side of your head and he immediately pulled back.

“You were hit really hard. You should go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “I don’t… I don’t want to go anywhere. Not right now, anyway.” You stepped over to his bed, sitting on the edge. “Can I just lie down?”

Suna nodded and pulled the blankets open, gesturing for you to crawl into his bed. He pulled the blankets on top of you and patted your arm.

“I’m just going to go into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I’ll shut the light off so you can rest a bit.”

The moment you couldn’t feel his presence in the room anymore, your mind travelled back to where you were earlier that night. Being attacked in a dark alley and suddenly you were feeling suffocated.

You sat up, gasping for air and Suna ran in, turning the light on and sitting next to you.

“Its okay, it’s okay,” He murmured, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into him. He stroked your hair and let you cry out your fear as long as you needed to.

“I don’t…” You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened. When you left I just felt so scared all over again.”

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, pressing his cheek against the top of your hair.

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

Suna nodded and stood up to go turn the light off again.

“Wait, where are you going?” You felt the panic start to take over again when the bed dipped down beside you.

“I’m right here.” His voice was kind. The Suna you’d known to always tease and annoy you had been replaced by something you could only describe as being your safety net.

Maybe this side of him was always here, and you just hadn’t ever noticed.

You laid back down beside him, moving close and nuzzling into his chest just like you had when he was carrying you. He wrapped his arms around you and softly trailed his hand up and down your back.

“I’ve got you, okay?” He whispered, “You’re safe with me. I promise. Just try and get some rest and we can worry about everything in the morning. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You nodded and felt the relief wash over you. You knew you had a lot to deal with tomorrow, but having Suna by your side made it seem a little less scary.

Thinking back, he always was by your side. He would defend you when the twins would get too rough, and was definitely guilty of giving guys an intimidating glare when they’d try to hit on you.

You sighed, soaking in the feeling of his warmth.

You knew that from them on, you wanted nothing more than to be on his side.

And for him to stay on yours.

[lawngnomeofdoom]

Part Five: when I'm near you

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 PT6 PT7

Summary: Connor works up the courage to tell you how he feels, and ends up getting a little help from Hank.

A/N: Y'all are always so sweet in the comments and messages, thanks again for reading! I'll have a masterlist set up soon and for those who are wondering the chapter after this will be the smut you've been waiting for! ;)

Markus had promised Connor that after he admitted and accepted his feelings toward you everything would be much easier.

Connor had begun to suspect he had lied.

He approached you initially with confidence, you sat at your desk typing away. Connor planted himself in front of you and cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I am interested in you romantically. I wish to pursue this further with you, provided you are also interested.” He declared, but you didn’t even glance up to the sound of his voice. He waved his hand in front of your face after a moment and you remove your earbuds.

“Oh hey Connor, what’s up?” You ask with a light smile.

“I just wanted to see if you needed more coffee.” Connor choked out.

“Mmm nah I’m okay right now but thank you, you’re so sweet.” You reply as you stretch your arms. Connor still stands in front of your desk, unmoving.

“Did…did you need anything else?”

“No, just wanted to mention that you look nice today.” He managed to say.

“Aww thanks buddy.”

“Buddy.” Connor repeats, the word stings somehow. But not as much as you rising from your chair and patting him on the head, it reminded him of how he pets Sumo.

“I’m heading down to the archives, I’ll be back.” You say as you walk down the hall, Connor watches you go, trying to will the right words out but managing only silence.

“You are the most pathetic android I’ve ever seen.” Hank says.

“Hank, I didn’t realize you were there.” Connor gulps as he realizes the LT. was at his desk the whole time.

“I mean that was painful.”

“I wasn’t-

“Shut up. I know what you were trying to do.”

“Are you opposed to my pursuit of Y/N? I know you care for her as well.” Connor asked hesitantly.

“Look, I am not going to give you my blessing or anything like that but no I’m not opposed. What I am opposed to is watching you crap your pants every time you talk to her. It makes me nauseous.” Hank complained. Connor sat at his desk and sighed.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Not that.” Hank chuckled but softened when Connor threw his infamous puppy dog eyes his way.

“Okay, okay, we can talk about this but not here. Come over to my house tonight, and bring roses, purple ones if you can find em’.” Hank conceded after a moment.

“Thank you, Hank.” Connor said with relief.

“Don’t mention it. Literally, don’t tell anybody about this ever.”

That night Connor arrived at Hank’s home at the exact time he instructed, a bouquet of purple roses in hand. When he knocked on the door Hank threw it open, and to Connor’s surprise he wore a stained floral apron.

“Fucking finally.” He cursed snatching the flowers out of his hand.

“Are you cooking?” Connor asked with a cocked head.

“Gumbo. God Connor, you didn’t think to put these in some water? Why are you still standing there get inside!” He grumbled and slammed the door behind Connor. His eyes explored his partner’s kitchen to see various veggies chopped up along with a variety of seasonings littered across the countertops. A boiling pot sat in the kitchen; Sumo watched it diligently.

“Will others be joining us?” Connor inquired, knowing that Hank didn’t make the extra food for his consumption.

“No. This is Y/N’s favorite food, and these are her favorite flowers. She lives a few doors down; you’re going to take her a bowl of gumbo and these roses.” Hank explained as if briefing him on a mission.

“Just like that?” Connor asked.

“Well yeah, it’s only hard if you make it hard.” Hank said scooping the gumbo into a stained Tupperware bowl.

“You seem to know a lot about Y/N.” Connor commented.

“Yeah well, she lost her dad, I lost my son, and we sort of found each other. I got a kid to be proud of, and she got a grumpy old man to yell at her.” He explained.

“Oh.” Connor said simply.

“I don’t want to go into all of it right now Connor but maybe someday. Let’s just focus on tonight.” Hank said handing him the bowl of gumbo and flowers that he placed gently in a glass vase.

“Just be yourself. Don’t be a fucking weirdo.”

“But you said to be myself.” Connor smiled.

“A sense of humor? Use that, it’ll distract her from that weird blinky thing you do with your eyes. Alright, knock em dead kid.” Hank said and patted Connor on the shoulder. He glanced down nervously at the food and flowers and back up at Hank, his eyes pleading.

“Hey, you can do this. If it makes you feel better, she maybe mentioned one time that she thought you were handsome or something.” Hank sighed. Connor’s eyes lit up.

“Did she?”

“Don’t let it get to your head Casanova. Just go already, she’s two houses down, to the left.” Hank said and shoved Connor out the door into the night. Connor forced his feet forward down to your door and stared at the floral wreath adorning it before finally knocking. He heard, the sound of a dog barking, then the sound of your feet across a wood floor, then a series of locks being unlatched. Finally, the door opened and there you stood, you wore boy shorts and an oversized t-shirt that exposed one of your shoulders, your hair, normally in a slick ponytail at the station, was loose and curly down your back and shoulders, a black german shepard peeked through your legs. The sight of you stunted all of his processors, freezing him there on your doorstep.

“Connor?” You said with a surprised but excited grin.

“Gumbo.” He replied after a moment and awkwardly held up the Tupperware.

“Oh, uh that looks good, thank you. Do you want to come in?” You ask and hold the door open for him.

“Yes, thank you.” He said and stepped inside, lightly brushing up against you as he did. Connor wasn’t sure but he thought he heard your breath catch.

“I can take the food, and oh my! Those roses are beautiful.” You say in awe as you take the vase from Connor.

“Beautiful creatures deserve each other.” Connor said without thinking. The entirety of your face turns bright red and your turn away toward the kitchen to hide it.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you but what are you doing here?” You ask regaining your composure.

“I wanted to spend more time with you, but I didn’t know how to proceed on the matter. Hank suggested the food and flowers as a start.” Connor answered truthfully as he scratched behind your dogs ear. You lean against your kitchen counter and fail to fight a bashful grin.

“Well I am grateful, but you could’ve just asked, I like spending time with you Connor.” You say. You can tell he’s having a hard time focusing with how scantily clad you're dressed and it makes you feel slightly accomplished.

“I like spending time with you too Y/N.” He replies awkwardly. You look away from his gaze, something about it is making your stomach do backflips, and go to admire the roses he brought you.

“Ow!” You wince and pull your hand back, having sliced your finger open on a thorn. Connor is immediately in front of you, stopping the minor bleeding with a kitchen rag.

“Are you alright?” He asks in a low, gentle murmur.

“Yeah, just a little cut, no big deal.” You reply looking up into his brown eyes. His lips are inches away from yours and you feel a desperate hunger to close the distance between them. He delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and then uses the same hand to tilt your chin up to his.

“Can I-“Connor begins to ask but the softness of your moment is cut off by the loud vibration of your cell phone going off.

“It’s probably work.” You say as your stomach drops. Connor blinks a few times and nods.

“Yes. A homicide was just reported.” He replies, his tone dripping with disappointment. You reluctantly release his hands and sigh.

“I should probably put pants on for that.” You say trying to lighten the mood.

“Unfortunately, I’d have to agree with you,” Connor says. You turn toward your bedroom but then turn back to face Connor and stand on your tiptoes to peck his cheek.

“We’ll have to continue this some other time.” You promise. Connor places his hand on the spot of his cheek you kissed, a wide grin forming.

“I’d like that Y/N.” He replies, his LED flashing like a Christmas tree.

[my-soul-sings]

kiss the girl: ch 4

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 2 extra (ft. marius) | ch 3 | ch 4

***

Ask her out to dinner. 

Artem Wing rarely gets stressed. Even when he has a trial the next day and it’s before the highest appellate court, he’s the definition of ‘calm’.

But right now, he’s freaking out.

It’s not that he doesn’t know how to ask a woman out to dinner. Of course he’s had dinner with her before—and they weren’t always team dinners.

The procedure is simple enough. Step one, ask her if she’s free that night. Or any night, for that matter. Step two, ask if she would like to have dinner with him. It’s an easy two-step process that anyone can accomplish.

Except, Artem didn’t factor in a possible third step: what to do when she is “suddenly unable to make it for dinner” with him not once, not twice, but three times in a row.

The first time it happened, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so he insisted that she leave the office early to get some rest, and cancelled their dinner plans for the evening.

The second time it happened, she said she had forgotten about a family dinner that clashed with their dinner plans. Artem had assured her that they could call a rain check, and that she should attend the family dinner to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday.

By the third time, Artem thought things would finally go his way. But alas, she was hauled away by none other than his NXX colleague, Vyn, who needed her assistance urgently with some pick-up artist case. He had offered to go with her, but she insisted that she could handle the case herself. And so, he had no choice but to leave her be, lest she thought that he didn’t have faith in her abilities.

All things considered, Artem is disheartened, to say the least. Having their dinner plans cancelled three times in a row can’t be a coincidence—maybe she just doesn’t want to have dinner with him, but is too scared of him to admit it outright. And it’s probably because he’s her boss, which is a position that he’s rapidly growing to hate. He wishes they could just be normal colleagues. Maybe then he won’t feel so awkward every time he wants to make a move but doesn’t want to come across as pressuring her inappropriately.

Then again, if they were normal colleagues, they probably wouldn’t work as closely as they do now… so Artem is torn on the issue. But that’s beside the point.

The point is, he doesn’t know what to do. Celestine would say that he should just try again, which he could do, but he should probably wait for a while before asking her again. As for how long he should wait, he’s not sure. But he was looking forward to dinner so much that the disappointment has been weighing him down for the past few days.

Deciding he needs some air to clear his head, Artem gets out of his office, intending to get some coffee from the pantry. As Celestine has reminded him many times, he has a working coffee machine in his office. His reply every time is that the capsules that he wants are in the pantry… and he just so happens to forget to take some to his office with every trip he makes.

Out of habit, Artem takes his phone to clear some notifications that have been accumulating since morning. And as he busies himself with replying to client messages and reading some new messages in the NXX chat, he overhears Kiki asking her if she wants to have dinner together. It’s a Friday night, and it’s already five minutes past the time everyone can knock off.

Her response, however, is noticeably sullen compared to her usual cheeriness. “I think I’ll be staying late tonight… I have two sets of written submissions to finish by Monday and I’ve barely started.”

It doesn’t take long for Artem to recall that those were the subs he had assigned to her at the start of the week. They’re due Monday… The other partners might have given her some work to do during the week, which is why she’s running tight on schedule.

He would ask if she wants him to assign one set to someone else to lighten her load, but Artem already knows from experience that she won’t have that. In fact, she’ll interpret it as him thinking she’s not competent enough to finish the work she’d been given and probably get upset—both with him and with herself.

“Then, aren’t you going to eat?” Kiki presses.

“I’ll eat later; I’m not hungry right now. Don’t worry about me, you should go ahead first. See you Monday!”

As Artem slowly returns to his office with a cup of coffee in hand and pretending to be engrossed in fiddling with his phone, he wonders if maybe there is a way to have dinner with her after all.

***

You’re stressed. The looming deadline of the coming Monday and the five cups of coffee you’ve had since morning are contributing to your high-strung nerves, and your hyper-active fingers as you furiously type away at the keyboard. Hopefully you can finish one sub tonight, and then you can do the other one over the weekend at home.

You’re so caught up in research and figuring out how to condense the facts of the extremely complicated facts of this darn case into a neat, concise summary, that you don’t realise that someone has been standing behind you for a while until he clears his throat and calls your name.

With a start, you jerk your head over your shoulder, not expecting anyone else to be in the office at this time—oh, it’s almost 8pm already—on a Friday night.

But here Artem is, holding up a few plastic bags and wearing a smile that isn’t helpful for your already wired heart. Didn’t he already leave the office for the day? And—how long has he been staring at your screen? Has he been watching you struggle over writing a summary of the facts?

He must think you’re an idiot now.

If he does though, he doesn’t show any sign of it. “You haven’t had dinner, right?” is all he asks.

“Dinner?” You take a few seconds to recall whether you’ve eaten or not, and then shake your head with a sheepish smile. “Right. I forgot.”

“I bought some sushi. You’ll focus better if you’re not hungry.”

You glance back at your screen, and even though you’d rather continue working, you reluctantly agree. Maybe you’ll be able to write this better after a short break.

“You’re right. Thanks.” You stand up, removing your glasses and rubbing your tired eyes. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. I was thinking of eating with you… if you don’t mind.”

You can’t help but smile. You’ve had to cancel dinner plans with Artem three times now, and you had  thought he would be offended or take it as a rejection in some way. You had actually been planning on asking him out to dinner next week, after clearing all your urgent tasks, to make up for everything. But here he is, offering dinner for the fourth time, accommodating your schedule and even buying sushi from your favorite sushi place. How did he even know?

“Of course I don’t mind! I just thought you’d want to eat with someone else on a Friday night, instead of eating take-out in the office.”

“I’d say eating dinner with you isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

Lawyers and their double-negatives. Now you can’t tell if this counts as Artem flirting with you. Not sure how else to respond, you settle for a generic “thank you” before taking one of the bags from him so that he isn’t carrying everything alone. “Let’s set it up in the pantry.”

He nods, allowing you to take the lead and following behind you towards the pantry. You hear the rustle of the plastic bags, his footsteps, and a small but thrilled "yes” that he whispers under his breath. It’s so low and soft that you almost mistake it for the sound of the plastic bags swinging by your side.

You should probably pretend you didn’t hear that, but still, you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you. The effort that he’s been putting in for the past few weeks hasn’t escaped your notice at all. And considering how much Artem has been looking out for you lately, maybe it’s time to start thinking about what you can do for Artem too.

***

A/N: Thanks for all the support guys, i've been blown away by the encouraging comments and i'm so glad to know that you enjoy this story :)

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

[enviedear]

liability → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n slips herself weak love potion daily to get through the wretched sadness she feels she can’t escape. in her mind, she’s a liability. and unbeknownst to her, draco malfoy feels the same.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 3.2k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

tw for depression ; something i have so please know i understand if you’re going through it. my messages are always open if you need a friend. be good to yourself and if this may trigger you pls don’t read it. all the love, olivia <3

pls enjoy this angst, and also please ignore the science behind love potions in this fic.

after cedric had been killed, life for you wasn’t the same. the two of you were the best of friends. you did absolutely everything together. cedric helped you be the very best you. 

after him, life seemed grey, dull, and monotonous. you didn’t have anyone to talk to.

your friends pulled back from you and said they made a mistake thinking they could take you on, and you understood. some days you could be so happy and carefree and the very next minute you drifted into the dark abyss that was your mind. you were a little much, for everyone. 

over the summer you began reading to take your mind off of cedric. well, not him, just what happened. you forced yourself to read every book in your home. from books about the stars, to poetry, to books on theories, and finally your textbooks.

it was one of the hottest days of summer when you came across the chapter on love potions. it gave you an idea. the chapter clearly stated that the drinker of the love potion would become infatuated with the person who gave it to them. who’s to say you couldn’t become infatuated with yourself.

of course you didn’t want to become a narcissus, so you brewed a very weak version.

it worked. for a whole day you were happy. you ate, laughed, and were so good to yourself. you were in love with the girl you were. you found yourself slow dancing alone, stroking your own cheek, being there for yourself. 

of course, it didn’t last and by night time you were back to feeling all too much. the type of feeling where you’re silent and unmoving, the world a blur but your thoughts in a deathly focus. 

it was that night you decided that you’d take a weak love potion everyday until your bad feelings went away on their own. you were tired of being the girl people pushed away because they didn’t understand. 

so you did exactly that. your entire fifth year consisted of flying under umbridge’s radar. thanks to harry potter and the order, that proved easier than expected. no one suspected you.

now, you’re in sixth year. everyone is convinced you’re happy again and they don’t treat you like some sort of liability. of course, they don’t know that every night you cry and feel exactly like you did in fourth year. but that’s ok, you can handle the nights as long as the days are good. you find it to be a cycle now. in the mornings you take the potion and it’s almost like the best part of yourself fights the whole day to take care of you, but by night, she looses to the worst part of yourself.

“y/n would you like to go to hogsmeade today?” your friend, cece asks.

“i would love to, but i have to study for transfiguration.” you sigh, giving your friend a sorry look.

“ah it’s ok, you’re taking advanced this year. you’re right to study. mara and i will make sure to bring you back some things from honeydukes.”

you smile and thank your friend before making your way to the astronomy tower. cedric was the one to introduce you to studying here, and you never stopped. 

you take a seat on the steps and begin studying multicorfors.

just as you were getting up to practice the spell, a body runs into you, causing the both of you to tumble to the floor.

you look to your side and spot draco malfoy, who, besides being herbology partners one year, you didn’t really talk to.

“are you okay, draco?” you ask, helping the boy off the floor.

he smoothes out his suit jacket, “yes, l/n.”

you scoff a bit and raise your eyebrows at him, “are you sure because it’s unlike you to stumble about. you’re just too good for that.”

draco glowers at you.

“okay i’m sorry. i didn’t want to be here anyway,” you gesture around the room, “the astronomy tower is now yours.”

he doesn’t say anything as you exit the room and you shrug it off. 

‘as if draco malfoy could be pleasant’, you think to yourself, annoyed.

once you approach the hufflepuff common room you feel the effects of your potion begin to wear off. you curse yourself a little for not drinking enough potion to last you until dinner and decide to run by the kitchens to grab something before bed. there’s no way you can sit through dinner like this.

by the time you make it to your dorm room you feel heavy with thoughts. you curl into your bed crying and stare at the stone wall until you fall into a dreamless sleep. like most nights.

the next morning is a saturday and you wake up early, before your dorm mates, and grab the bottle of love potion under your bed, hidden in a locked trunk. you down the small bottle and watch it refill thanks to the spell you placed on it, and put it back, hidden away.

you decide to head to breakfast early and grab a muffin to take with you to the astronomy tower. you need to master multicorfors before your test on tuesday.

a half hour into your practice, you’re doing the spell almost perfectly. though, changing your skirt into pants proves to be your downfall. you just can’t get it. 

“i need the astronomy tower.” a voice says from behind you.

you turn to see draco malfoy, again wearing a fitted suit.

“you can study while i’m here draco.” you say pointedly.

“i don’t want to.” he scowls.

you roll your eyes, “then study elsewhere.”

“no. you can leave.” 

“listen draco, i can argue with you all day, but i’m not moving until i’ve mastered��multicorfors. so either you stay here with me or you go somewhere else.” you groan.

he doesn’t reply but takes a seat on the steps, taking out his wand and transfiguration book.

you smile to yourself, happy to win the argument, and go back to trying to change your skirt into a pair of pants. 

“you’re too rigid with your movements, l/n.” draco tells you.

“can you show me then? i can’t figure it out.” you ask.

“no. just flick your wand more. it’s not that hard.” he says.

you give him a deadpan look, “please. this is the last part of the lesson i need to get. if you show me i can leave sooner.”

draco groans but gets up and walks over to you.

“give me your hand.” he instructs. 

you do as you’re told and he grabs your hand, showing you the correct way to move your wand. his hand is warmer compared to yours and you like the way he warms you up. it’s also extremely soft, almost as if he’s never had a single callous. 

“you have soft hands.” you tell him, grinning.

surprisingly draco lets out a small smile, “you’re supposed to be paying attention.”

“i can’t. you have baby soft hands.” you joke looking up at him.

“i just use lotion. you should try it sometime, your hands feel like a house elves’.” he teases.

you let out a deep laugh, “who knew draco malfoy was such a comedian?”

he feigns shock, “i made those hilarious ‘potter sticks’ badges back in fourth year for nothing then?”

you suck in a unnoticed breathe at the mention of fourth year before smiling,“okay i suppose that should have been a hint. but it was mean.” 

draco and you continue to talk and practice transfiguration up until dinner. the time flying while the two of you are together.

“would you like to eat dinner up here? i can grab us some things from the kitchen.” you ask him, packing your bag up.

“i actually have something to do, but maybe some other time. let’s meet here again tomorrow though, i can help you with transfiguration.” he says.

“draco malfoy fraternizing with a muggle-born hufflepuff. tsk tsk.” you joke before agreeing and heading to dinner. 

you don’t miss the eyeroll he gives you for that remark.

“where were you all day, y/n?” mara questions as you sit down beside her.

“astronomy tower. i was practicing transfiguration. you’ll never guess who ended up helping me either.” you beam, grabbing a plate for yourself.

“who helped you? i’m guessing cormac mclaggen, he seems to have a crush on you.” cece says.

your face contorts in disgust, “no, definitely not. that guy is a creep. it was malfoy actually, and he’s surprisingly funny.”

mara and cece give each other a look before mara speaks, “you do know people are saying he’s a deatheater, right?” 

you roll your eyes, “malfoy is not a deatheater. i think a deatheater would oppose to helping a mudblood.”

your friends shrug and dinner continues on with normal conversation.

“cece and i are going to study in the library before bed if you want to join us.” mara says, grabbing her books.

“i’m okay, plus i’m super tired. i’ll see you at the dorm.” you smile, before parting with your friends.

slipping into your bed you begin to feel the come down of your potion. tonight your pain hurts even more than usual. you feel so trapped and can’t seem to catch your breath. you keep thinking back to the last time you had spoken to your best friend.

it was a week before the maze and he was sitting with you by black lake.

“y/n i promise you once i win, i’m taking you and cho to the fanciest restaurant i can find and we’ll all celebrate.” he had grinned, leaning against a tree.

you giggled and shoved him playfully before saying, “if you don’t win i’m still expecting that dinner.”

“i’ll win. i’ve been practicing so much.”

“i know, you barely ever have time to see me now.” you had sighed.

“y/n i’m sorry. i promise that after all of this is over, you and i are going to see each other everyday. i can’t live without you, kid. you’re my best friend.” he soothed, giving you a hug.

you had leaned into him, “forever?”

he laughed, “of course.”

that memory was etched in your brain. you knew it would never leave your mind. 

you laid silently crying in your bed as your dorm mates entered to room, ready for bed. they said goodnight to each other before getting into their own beds, assuming you to be drifted off by now, and after a few minutes, their snores are the only sound in the room. 

the emptiness of your being feels too much and you’re desperate to escape. you need air. you need something to remind you that you’re alive.

you quietly sneak out of your room, out of the common room, and up the stairs to the astronomy tower.

as you quickly enter the doorway of the tower, a body collides into yours, knocking you back a bit. 

when you look up, tears falling out of your eyes, you’re greeted by teary grey ones. draco’s.

he sniffles and steadies himself before asking, “what’s wrong, l/n?”

you can’t seem to find the words. no one has asked you this question in years, and so much is wrong.

all you can do is cry harder.

“you have to breathe l/n. you’re going to upset yourself more, just breathe.” he says, voice breaking.

you try to calm down but nothing is helping. nothing feels real. cedric should still be here. you shouldn’t be this broken. life should be how it was. now it’s just too much.

“i hate it, draco.” you finally cry out.

he wipes the tears from his own eyes, “what do you hate, l/n. talk to me.”

“i hate that i haven’t been the same since fourth year. i hate that my best friend is gone. i hate that i have to worry that everyone around me is going to die, just because of some evil dark wizard. and i hate that i take fucking love potions everyday just to feel okay. i hate it all.” you breathe, finally. 

draco raises his eyebrows, “you’ve been taking love potions?”

you nod, weary of your confession.

“i’m sorry y/n.” he mumbles.

your eyes meet his at the mention of your first name. coming from him it seems so genuine. he’s never called you by your first name before.

“you won’t tell anyone will you?” you ask, eyes searching his.

“no, i won’t,” he pauses. “but you should get back to your dorm, i’ll walk you back. a walk might help you calm down.”

you nod and let the boy lead you through the dark castle, lit only by the moon. draco’s steps are lighter than yours, and it causes you to wonder how he learned how to be so quiet. it’s unlike him.

when the two of you reach the hufflepuff entrance you whisper to him, “thank you for calming me down, draco. it means a lot that you would help me.”

in the shadows you see him smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. you bid the boy goodnight, and walk back to your dorm. of course you’re still sad but the sadness is somewhat diluted, thanks to none other than draco malfoy. 

you continue to meet with draco daily throughout the months of your sixth year. the two of you finding comfort in each other. 

by now, you’re becoming far less dependent on love potions. having someone to confide in proving immensely helpful.

but although you’re getting better, draco only grows worse. you never ask him what’s troubling him. maybe because you’re scared he won’t tell you or maybe because you’re scared to loose the person helping you the most. either way, you still try to help him as much as possible.

today, may the eighth, draco and you have plans to go to hogsmeade to look for a new notebook for you, since your old one is completely used up. you really loved mcgonagall, but the woman sure stressed you out with all the notes she commanded your class to take.

you’ve been waiting patiently for twenty minutes, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

maybe he’s still at breakfast? you think to yourself, before heading into the castle to search for your friend.

you peer around the dining hall, coming up short. so you decide to go to the astronomy tower. if you needed draco you could usually find him there.

when you enter the sixth floor, ready to head further up, you hear shouting. curious, you walk toward the noise, which is coming from the boys’ bathroom.

you hesitate going in but once you hear a defensive spell being cast, you draw your wand and bound into the bathroom.

in front of you stands harry potter. he’s crouched behind a wall, clutching his wand and panting. you furrow your brows, and go to question what he’s doing before you see draco emerge and cast the cruciatus curse at him.

before you can tell them both to stop, harry yells out a curse you’ve never heard of before.

“sectumsempra!”

almost instantly, draco falls to the floor, blood pouring out of him.

you’re shocked, and don’t even feel yourself run to him. you don’t hear harry’s apologies. you don’t hear when professor snape rushes in. you don’t hear a thing other than draco’s pained cries.

it reminds you all too much of the chaos of cedric’s death. everything happening too fast.

when snape finally stops the bleeding he instructs you to get back to your common room and keep quiet. you don’t try to fight him on it, and do as you’re told.

after a few hours of worried overthinking, you leave the hufflepuff common room and head to the hospital wing. when you enter the large room, you notice draco immediately. he’s the only one.

“draco?” you call his name, standing beside his bed.

the boy opens his eyes and stares right at you, causing you to cry.

“i was so scared draco.” you cry, placing your hand on your friends chest, feeling his heartbeat. it’s comforting.

“i have to tell you something, y/n, before it’s too late. you just have to promise you won’t tell a soul.” he tells you, voice weak.

“draco you’ve kept my secret over these months. i would never hurt you by telling anyone.” you say.

your friend gives you a weak smile before sitting up in the bed and pulling up his left sleeve, exposing a black ink that contrasts so much from his pale white skin.

“they’re coming here in june. i don’t know the day yet but when i find out i’ll tell you. you have to stay safe, y/n. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.” draco advises.

“you’re a deatheater.” you breathe out, eyes locked to the dark mark on his arm.

you can’t believe the scene in front of you. your draco, a villain that you’ve been so deathly afraid of for years.

“i’m so sorry y/n. it wasn’t my choice. but please promise me that you’ll stay safe. i need you here with me, not gone by the hands of a dark wizard.” the boy pleads, grasping your hand.

you look him in the eyes, “i promise draco.”

he doesn’t let go of your hand and brings it back to his heart.

“i care so deeply for you, y/n. you’re so good. thank you for everything.” he says, faltering.

your eyes are teary when you say, “i love you draco.”

with that you slip your hand out of his and walk back to your dorm. your thoughts seem to be invasive that night. you contemplate grabbing the bottle of love potion you haven’t taken in a month, but decide against it.

you feel cheated. everything had been so perfect. all the excitement you had from running through the nights with the boy you love begin to eat you alive.

it’s not fair for it to turn out like this. the two of you so dependent on each other, but on two separate sides of a war. there’s no way this can end well.

you realize you love draco, as more than a friend. that scares you and so you’re back to thinking that you’re better off on your own.

draco still sits with you in the astronomy tower daily, but the two of you don’t speak much. you, scared of falling deeper in love. and him, too focused on his task. 

of course you find yourself loving the boy more and more everyday. the two of you are always embraced when together, and even though it’s unspoken, you know draco loves you too.

it’s the thirtieth day of june, you’re in the astronomy tower alone when draco comes rushing in.

“y/n you have to go, they’re here.” he warns, checking the stairs behind him.

you freeze at his statement. you knew the day would come but you still weren’t prepared.

“y/n! are you listening to me? you have to go.” he shouts.

this is it. this is the final time you’ll see draco before the war officially starts, after this there’s no more innocent days spent together. here you are again, loosing your best friend.

you get up from the floor and walk to draco. you cup his face gently, “take care of yourself. i love you.”

he eases a little and places his hand on yours, “i love you more. i hope you know that.”

and you do. of course you do.

[tsukishumai]

Your First Fight - Akaashi, Kenma, Oikawa, Kageyama (Setter Squad)

A/N - This was for anon, I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what the heck happened to this post >-< but it’s back, and I fixed the links on the other posts as well!

Ace Edition

Word Count: 2.8k T-T 

I may or may not have gotten carried away with this one  (✿◠‿◠) Buckle up, and I hope u enjoy!  ( ˘ ³˘)

AKAASHI –

You understand why Akaashi wanted to keep your relationship secret. Really, you did. You could already imagine the barrage of overbearing comments, and the teasing that was sure to be a distraction during practice. With Nationals just around the corner, this was the last thing you both needed.

Being the manager of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club, you know better than most just how rowdy the group could actually be. Bokuto may be the loudest one of the bunch, but all the others can be just as provoking.

And to be honest, the sneaking around was kind of hot. You can’t deny you got butterflies every time Akaashi would pull you into the equipment room for a quick make out session, or when he would give your thigh a secret squeeze under the lunch table surrounded by your friends.

But it’s been months now, and frankly, you were kind of getting tired of it. Sure, it may be slightly more convenient for the both of you, but some days you just want to hold your boyfriend’s hand down the hall without having to look over your shoulder.

You’ve only brought it up to Akaashi once before, but he brushed it off by saying it wasn’t the right time, and you were discouraged to try ever since.

You really weren’t planning to bring it up at the Tokyo Representative Playoffs… you really didn’t. But Konoha’s girlfriend showed up to cheer him on, looking so happy and proud in the stands, you couldn’t fight the tinge of envy that started to take over your body.

Akaashi was observant, and he knew you better than anyone. He could see you stealing glances into the stands, could see the tension in your shoulders whenever Konoha’s girlfriend yelled out cheers for him.

He couldn’t stop himself from following you after you told Yukie you were just going to the restroom.

“No good luck kiss?” he called out once the both of you were a safe distance from the team.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to see,” you said bitterly, not stopping for Akaashi.

Akaashi frowned. “Y/N, you know that’s not true.”

“Well, why else wouldn’t you want to tell anyone about us?” you asked, you finally stopped walking, turning around to give him a hard look.

Akaashi groaned in frustration. “Do we really have to talk about this right here? Right now? I told you, it’s just easier this way.”

You scoffed, and Akaashi hated the sound. “Sorry our relationship is such an inconvenience for you.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply, quickly entering the women’s bathroom, faintly hearing the sound of Bokuto calling your boyfriend’s name behind you.

Akaashi didn’t blame you for the loss against Itachiyama, but he definitely blamed himself.

“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked Bokuto after the game, but the ace just shrugged, too upset about the loss to really care. The whole team had all gathered their things, ready to make their way out of the gym and you still were nowhere to be found.

Akaashi’s worries were relieved, but quickly replaced with new ones when Bokuto spotted you down the hall, cornered by someone wearing a Nohebi uniform.

“So tell me, do you have you a boyfriend?” Akaashi heard him ask, and you finally noticed the team approach you. The evil gleam in your eye didn’t escape Akaashi’s attention.

“No, actually. I don’t.”

It was one thing for you to deny it to your teammates, but to other men? Akaashi shouldn’t be mad that those were the words that came out of your mouth; it was his own fault for putting you in the situation in the first place. He knows you’re just doing what he told you to.

But he was furious, and there was nothing that could have stopped him from grabbing you by the elbow, turning you away from the dirty little snake that dared to talk to you, and crashing his lips onto yours.

You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting from Akaashi, but it definitely wasn’t this. Though, you weren’t complaining, returning his kiss with equal fervor, ignoring the uncomfortable cough from the Nohebi player, and the gasps and shocked exclamations from your teammates.

All you could focus on when he pulled away was Akaashi, blue eyes staring straight into your soul, the next words tumbling out of his mouth was all you’ve wanted to hear for months.

“You’re mine. I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

KENMA –

You’ve been sitting in the same spot on Kenma’s bed for about an hour now. The room was filled with only the sounds emanating from the TV, and your boyfriend’s fingers tapping on the buttons of his controller.

Kenma always did like falling into a hole whenever he bought a new game; you’ve known this about him since you were kids. It wasn’t something you ever really minded, nor did you think it was something you wanted to change. It was a part of him that you simply accepted.

Normally, you were content with reading a book while he played, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence, getting lost in different worlds. You both respected each other’s hobbies, and the fact that you could do them together in the same room worked out so perfectly.

However, you finished your book faster than you anticipated, and in your shortsightedness, you failed to bring with you a second book. You tried to read webtoons online, but the light from your phone began to strain your eyes.

“Kenma,” you whined as boredom got the best of you, and the blonde boy didn’t bother to respond, “I’m hungry. Can’t we get something to eat?”

“After,” he grunted, though there were no specifications to when ‘After’ would be.

You sighed, getting up from your spot on the bed to tinker with his things. You walk around his room, running your fingers along the books lined on his shelf, picking up frames that contained happy memories of his life.

You hear your phone ding, signaling a message and you turned to make your way back to the bed.

“Hey!” Kenma exclaimed suddenly, making you jump, “Could you not walk in front of the TV? I just died because of you!”

You stared at him in shock for a second. You had never heard him raise his voice before “Excuse me? So what, it’s just a stupid game.”

“It’s not a stupid game,” Kenma grumbled, his voice back to his usual soft tone, but still held a slight tinge of anger. “You know I’ve been waiting for this to be released. Can’t you just read your book and be quiet like you usually do?”

Kenma immediately knew those were the wrong words to say, regretting the way you face turned into a pout. He watched you begin to gather your things, a slight panic rising in his chest when he realizes you’re trying to leave. “You know what, let me just leave you alone, since clearly my company isn’t wanted –“

You were cut off by Kenma getting up from his spot, opening the bottom drawer of his TV stand to rummage through it. You eyed him curiously until he finally found what he was looking for; pulling out another controller that he connected to the gaming console.

He quietly took your hand, pulling you down to sit on the floor with him. You sat cross legged and confused, wondering what he was doing until he handed you the controller. You stared at it in your lap, a small smile spreading on your face at his silent apology.

He started the game on easy mode, giving you a quick rundown on the basic controls.

“I’ll order us some pizza,” he said quietly, making you give him a soft peck on the cheek.

“Pizza sounds good.”

OIKAWA –

The booming sound of Oikawa’s serves was something that will never cease to amaze you.

Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile your Oikawa Toru – the one that hides behind your hair during scary movies, and asks you to kill the spiders for him – with Aoba Johsai’s Oikawa Toru. To you, they were just two completely different people.

But when you were watching him practice like this, raw power coming from his usually gentle hands, you can’t help but stare at him in awe.

You don’t usually stay this late to watch him practice; on a normal day, your club activities would end at the same time and Oikawa would walk you home, but on days like today where he felt he needed the extra practice, you left him in the care of Iwaizumi.

You were a little surprised, however, when you found Iwaizumi waiting for you at your club room, claiming he really needed to get his part of his group project done by tonight, and if you could please stay and make sure your boyfriend doesn’t kill himself.

How could you say no?

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times Oikawa practiced his serve, the repetitive sound of the balls bouncing and his grunting becoming a sort of hypnotic rhythm for you. Before you knew it, the sun had BEEN down, and the moon had taken its place in the night sky.

You begin to notice the telltale signs of exhaustion, Oikawa struggling to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down, his form beginning to look sloppy.

“Alright,” you say, jumping down from your spot on the bench, “It’s time to go home.”

“One more.”

“Tsk,” you clicked your tongue, walking around collecting the balls, “It’s been hours, Toru. Rest is also a part of training, you know.”

He ignored you, grabbing another ball from the cart, but you just started taking down the volleyball net.

“What the hell are you doing? I said one more!” “And I said it’s time to go home!”

The ear-splitting sound of the volleyball slamming the floor cut through the gym, leaving you frozen in place. “You wouldn’t understand! You may be satisfied with doing the bare minimum for your practices, but my serves have to be perfect! I have to be perfect!” Oikawa’s voice echoed, glaring at you with red eyes, frustration evident on his face.

You didn’t say anything. You stared at him for a moment, then turned around and began the process of closing the gym. Oikawa also chose to stay silent, brown eyes trained on the floor as he gathered his belongings, silently following you once you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The walk home was quiet; the lack of a reaction on your part weighing more heavily on Oikawa than he expected. He snuck a glance at you, but you kept your head forward, steel faced and neutral.

Each step he took was more agonizing than the last, knowing he shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. Your house was beginning to come into view, and he couldn’t leave the night like this.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and your sharp inhale let him know that you heard him.

“I know.”

“I’m exhausted...” and you know he wasn’t just talking about volleyball.

You finally faced him, and gently grabbed his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders as you snaked an arm around his middle. He felt all the tension his body melt away, half expecting to find it puddled around his feet.

“I know,” you said, “But if you ever talk to me like that again, you’re getting a flying fist to the face.”

Oikawa laughed, drawing one out from your own mouth. He placed a kiss on your temple, and gave you full permission to cut his head off if he ever lashed out at you again. He always appreciated how he never had to tell you anything… you always just knew.

KAGEYAMA –

Kageyama had a pretty good weekend, if you asked him.

He woke up early on Saturday morning to go for a run, then got home and had pork curry for lunch. He figures it’s been a while since he’s brushed up on his basic skills, so he went to the local gym and practiced some drills. On Sunday, he was dragged by Hinata to a study group with Yachi, and admittedly gotten more homework done there than he would have on his own.

It was a nice, productive weekend. He entered his Monday with this positive vibe following him around, even morning practice went by smoothly.

He went about his usual routine of waiting for you by the school gates so he could walk you to class. He only waited about ten minutes until you came into view, and Kageyama subconsciously straightened his posture. He tried to push down the little tickle at the pit of his belly when you made eye contact, not wanting to admit he was excited to see you.

“Good morning,” he said as soon as you approached, but his entire mood completely shifted downward when you simply walked passed him.

Where was his usual ‘Good morning, Tobio-kun!’? Why didn’t you stop to give him his morning peck on the cheek? Why didn’t you let him carry your bag for you on the way to class?

Did he do something wrong?

He was so confused, questions running through his head as he simply trailed after you silently.

“Is everything alright?” He tried to ask once you reached your class, but you just gave him a stern look, turning away from him to enter your classroom and take your seat. He was left there looking like an idiot.

He couldn’t focus in class, trying to wrack his brain on why you could possibly be upset. Did he forget an anniversary? Doubtful, you’ve only just started dating. Were you on your period? Kageyama shook his head. Even he knew that would literally be the worst question to ask.

The bell rang to signal the start of lunch, and Kageyama hurriedly gathered his things so he can go find you.

He didn’t have to look very far, though, because when he exited his classroom, he spotted you down the hall.

The second you saw him, you marched your way over; the dark aura you were giving off had made everyone steer clear of you.

Kageyama gulped, wanting to run away before he remembered that he also wanted to talk to you.

“Y/N –“ “You know, I was going to ignore you the whole day, but seeing you this morning just really pissed me off, and unlike you, I actually can’t stand not talking to you.”

Kageyama blinked, happy to hear your voice, but confused at the words you were saying. “Unlike me? What do you mean?”

You crossed your arms and huffed. “Where the hell were you all weekend?”

Again, Kageyama blinked stupidly. “What do you mean? I was home.”

This seemed like the wrong answer, because now your hands moved to your hips, and for some reason, you were ten times more intimidating like that. “So? You never thought to shoot me a text? Or give me a call?”

“Was I supposed to?” Kageyama asked, and the genuine curiosity in his voice made you face palm.

“Did you not want to?” You asked, though there was no hurt behind the question.

“I did.” “So why didn’t you?”

Kageyama thought about it for a moment. “I went to the gym instead.”

You let out a groan of frustration. Honestly, you should have known. It took you three tries before Kageyama even realized you were confessing to him. It took him even longer to realize that he actually had to tell you he liked you back, and that you had no idea that him buying you yogurt meant he was asking you out.

“Tobio-kun,” you said patiently, “If you’re thinking of me, you should text me or call me to let me know.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Even if I have nothing interesting to say?”

You nodded, looping your arm through his and starting your walk to the cafeteria. “Even then. I just want to hear from you.”

Kageyama nodded his head in understanding. “Okay. That’s good to know.”

Your phone never stopped blowing up after that conversation. RIP your notifications.

[ushidoux]

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x  Reader (Pt. 4)

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~1.7 words)

Warnings: questionable fidelity, angst, but otherwise tame

A/N: There isn’t a lot of action in this chapter but a whole lot of feelings.

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

-

You awoke to the sound of Iwaizumi’s careful shuffles around your bedroom as he got dressed for the day. Rising slowly to a sitting position with a stretch and a yawn, you noticed he was a little more dressed up than usual, his usual polo shirt and khakis replaced with a pair of sharp trousers, a nicely pressed shirt and a tie.

“Good morning, baby,” you murmured, voice still heavy with slumber.

Iwaizumi’s eyes shifted from their focus adjusting the sleeves of his shirt and smiled as he watched you rub the sleep out of your eyes, walking around to your side of the bed to kiss you on the forehead - a soft brush of the lips.

“Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

The smell of a gentle cologne drove you forward, intending to lean your face against his chest, but he was already back to his side of the bed to gather his things before setting out for the morning.

“I did… I can make breakfast if you’re not in a hurry!” You offered, eyes following the young man as he quickly exited the room.

“I’m alright!” He called, voice distant now. You could tell he was already rummaging around in the kitchen, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted in your nostrils in sharp contrast to the toothpaste you were using to rid yourself of morning breath once you trailed behind him.

You glanced at the time on the wall clock, leaning against a wall opposite the inlet to the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly late for work, but he was rushing out faster than usual. 

“Is everything okay?” Your voice was muffled between spittle and mild concern.

He glanced at you, hesitating for a split second before smiling. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” he replied without answering your question, and then the door closed behind him.

There was a subtle sense of your blood cooling very slightly, a tinge of worry settling in your chest. Venturing back into the bathroom, you finished brushing your teeth, paying exquisite attention to your tired eyes in the mirror as though your reflection was the issue. 

Maybe you were overreacting. Things had been a little tense since your argument, but it was nothing that couldn’t be smoothed over. 

It was only after you’d settled back onto your side of the bed with your open laptop and your screen flickered on to display your ex’s Instagram page that your heart started to race.

You closed it shut again, wincing.

He didn’t see it. He couldn’t have. He would have said something. The argument would have started right up again. It wouldn’t have ended until one of you was sleeping on the couch or you were sleeping in each other’s arms.

You let out a deep breath, taking a few moments to let your self-defensive thoughts sink into your skin. It was nothing serious after all.

Overreaction after overreaction. The only thing that mattered right now was that you opened your laptop and spent your Friday off of work on getting ahead.

---

As luck would have it, Iwaizumi was stuck in traffic.  Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that he’d wanted to escape your apartment as soon as possible and make it out early. He’d actually intended to leave before you woke up. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was still angry. 

Not at you. Never at you. At himself.

He remembered the words he had said to you at the start of your relationship, what felt both like just yesterday and ages ago.

Use me if you need to.

He gripped the steering wheel and grit his teeth, trying to maintain composure despite the fact that he’d been in the same spot on the road for the past ten minutes and people were laying into their horns around him.

What kind of stupid shit was that?

It had sounded good to say it at the time, like most things a guy says to woo a pretty girl. Use him. You’d fall in love with him later, in due time. He believed it was true then.

He hated that he was starting to lose faith in that now.

He hated the idea that someone else, who really wasn’t doing anything but simply existing in proximity to you was doing such a number on him. He couldn’t fault him either. Ushijima had loved you first. 

Did it matter if Iwa loved you more?

---

You’d given yourself that you weren’t allowed to leave your apartment until you got your work done, lest you come up with another excuse not to finish, which meant by the time the clock neared six p.m., you had laid sprawled in nearly every corner of your apartment typing and by now were cross-legged on the kitchen counter, your laptop balanced on your knees.

But you were finally done.

You sighed with excitement. Now to put that behind you. 

Saving your work, you slipped off of the countertop and back into your pair of slippers, moving back to your bedroom to change into a just as comfortable but more presentable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

You were running out of snacks, as evidenced by the frequent trips to the kitchen over the past eight hours. What better way to treat yourself for a job well done but with a walk down to the convenience store to stock up?

Maybe you’d grab Iwa a bag of his favorite chips as a peace offering on the way too. 

---

“We’re already out, young lady!” the cashier teased the moment you crossed the store entrance, setting off the bell. 

You pout but still glance over to the row of baked goods, where your precious melon bread is normally stacked neatly in clear packaging, waiting for you. It’s a little bit embarrassing that he knew you would never pass up on it, but you’d lived here long enough that it wasn’t inconceivable that it’d become your defining trait.

“I’m absolutely devastated, sir!” You called back dramatically, making your way to the back for ice cream instead. They had what your favorite in stock, plus a limited edition flavor so you had more than enough consolation.

Satisfied, you closed the freezer door after picking your selection only to meet eyes with Ushijima, whose hand closed tightly around the handle of a fridge door. He stood a good distance away, but his eyes had been on you and remained so; the very slight part of his lips betrayed the fact that he had been trying to come up with something to say for the past couple of minutes.

He did say your name, something like a greeting, out loud, and you reflexively looked away, heart pounding. Granted you didn’t own this corner of town, but what were the chances he’d only chosen to go here?

Quickly realizing you still weren’t interested in talking, Ushijima pulled out a large bottle of water and closed the fridge, deciding not to bother you further.

It was suddenly a good thing that a text message to you on his phone was in drafts only, him not having the heart to send it. It wasn’t for a lack of courage… it was more so due to shame. Even if he felt like he had to apologize, there wasn’t much he felt he could say that would make it better, not worse.

His shame and your discomfort only intensified as he ended up queueing up behind you. Timing was never on his or your side it seemed.

Ushijima watched you tense up ever so slightly, your shoulders hunched as your arms overflowed with snacks, including the freezing tub of ice cream. Normally he’d offer to help with your load, given that he wasn’t carrying much more than the water but again, boundaries.

He’d set that distance himself.

In reality, he probably should have chosen another running path to discharge energy after practice had ended early today. However, it had been long enough that alternative courses didn’t come immediately to memory and he’d been willing to take that chance.

And here you both were.

He hated this, the obvious residual feelings bubbling to the surface after having been repressed for so long, the fact that he couldn’t justify any of his actions, the fact that he hated older him.

The fact that you won’t even look at him. 

Just say something. Anything. 

Is closure every really needed, or is it just an excuse to refuse to move on?

He opened his mouth to speak, yet again, but you beat him to it.

You turned towards him, smiling, albeit a weak imitation of what you’d always offered him, back when you loved him recklessly, with your whole heart.

“I… um, don’t want it to be awkward,” you said in a small voice. The sound of your voice, directed finally to him, unprompted made his own beat speed up.

Was this an olive branch you were extending that he didn’t deserve? He pondered this, steeling himself for the worst.

You kept your friendly expression as steady as possible. You weren’t sure what you were trying to prove, to yourself and to Iwa.

You didn’t love him. And for that reason, you had no right to be bitter or cold. Right?

“It doesn’t have to be awkward,” you continued.

Ushijima was at a loss for words now, watching you carefully with his normally sharp, hawk-like eyes but now more like the hawk’s prey, assessing the threat before it. Could he get his hopes up? “We can be friends,” you decided.

It’ll only hurt for a short bit of time, you told yourself. And soon things will be back to normal. As they should be.

A part of Ushijima wanted to reply, I don’t want to be friends. He’d finally realized this, no matter how selfish of a thought it was. However, he was content to nod only and swallow that thought. 

“I’d appreciate it.”

He watched you pay for your items and leave, unsure of what friendship would entail.

---

As you dug into your tub of ice cream a couple hours later, you realized you weren’t so sure what that entailed either.

If only to make it worse, then came the buzz of your phone with a single message, I miss you.

[leclerc-xo]

I started writing something and ran out of steam so have what I wrote in case I never finish it…

***

The coach is silent, not even the low hum of music to break the thick feeling of defeat that sat over them all. There were no games of Uno being played, no sweets being shared, nothing but a group of people sharing a space all thinking the same thing. What could I have done better?

Dele shifted in his seat. His clothes felt too tight and he was too warm and he didn’t like that the seat next to him was empty. He glanced down at his phone, a message notification lighting up the screen and he pressed the lock button, choosing to ignore the words ‘out tonight?’ in favour of looking out of the window. His stomach was still in knots as he replayed the images in his head. Again.

Eric staying down, getting back up, hobbling around and then going back down again, this time staying down. He’d held back at first, having watched Eric get back up he had told himself it was fine. He knew it wasn’t of course, deep down, he knew what those frown lines meant, what those lips set in a line were trying hard not to betray. So he had watched as Eric had basically fallen back to the floor, his palms itching and his heart hammering in his chest. He allowed a few moments to pass, watched from a distance as the medic spoke to Eric, as Reggy checked on him. His chest tight as he watched Eric slowly clamber to his feet, immediately knowing by the way he was holding himself that it wasn’t good.

Please don’t let it be his hip again, he thought as he finally allowed himself to move. He walked over, willing his legs to slow down, to go at a normal pace. When he finally reached Eric and his blue eyes met his gaze he thought his heart might explode with the need to hold him as he watched that beautiful, strong face just crumple.

“Is it your hip?” he asked quietly, holding out his hand. Eric murmured a no in reply and briefly brushed his fingers against Dele’s, the faintest of touches that made Dele reach down and grab at Eric’s left hand. “Can you walk?” he asked, glancing down at Eric’s leg and the thought crossed his mind that he’d carry Eric off himself if he needed to. Eric didn’t answer, just pulled his hand away so he could touch his thigh, silently telling Dele where the problem was. His mind briefly conjured up the image of Eric pressing his lips to the back of his own thigh and realised that it would be his turn again when Japh’s voice had lifted him from his thoughts.

A cough from the front of the bus brought him back to the present and he lifted his head up, looking away from the window. He looked over the table at Eric who was stretched out over the two seats on the other side. His hood was up and he was asleep, or at least pretending to be and even now his brows were still knitted together, the pinch of his lips telling Dele that even after painkillers Eric was still feeling a level of discomfort. He felt useless, sat in his seat, unable to even reach out and hold Eric’s hand. So he watched him, lowered his gaze to follow the rise and fall of his chest with his eyes. There hadn’t been any time at half-time to check on him, a cursory ‘we need to assess him but he’s ok’ from one of the medics before he’d gone back out onto the pitch. He’d caught sight of Eric during the second half, sat on the steps near the tunnel and his breath had caught just for a second before he snapped back into focus.

He could hear movement behind him and he looked to the side just as one of the medics appeared at the table. Their eyes met for a brief second, both of them sharing a tight smile and Dele watched as Eric was prodded awake. He winced as he saw Eric’s face contort, the respite of waking up with no pain over in a flash as he tried to move his leg.

“Alright mate, we’ve made you a pack with painkillers, gel and a compression brace, instructions are in here for when to do what etc,” Scott said as Eric blinked a few times, nodding. Dele stared at the package, making a mental note that there was a note inside. “Obviously we are going to need to see you tomorrow for assessment and you’ll probably need a scan,” Scott carried on, Eric nodding and rubbing his face. Dele shifted and glanced up just as Scott mentioned that Eric wouldn’t be able to drive, asking him if he could make arrangements.

“I’ve got him,” Dele said and Eric finally looked at him, sleep still clouding his face. They shared a look, a small smile tugging at Eric’s mouth and Dele took a breath in and repeated “I’ve got him,” without looking away. Scott nodded, placed the pack down on the table and patted Dele’s shoulder as he walked away.

“Didn’t you have plans?” Eric asked softly, his voice cracking slightly. Dele shrugged and picked up the plastic box the medicine was in. He rattled it around and looked back at Eric. “Guess I’ll be watching tennis instead won’t I?” he quipped and Eric shook his head, letting out a little laugh and Dele’s chest warmed at the sound.

“Thanks,” Eric said, barely above a whisper and Dele reached across to brush his fingers against the back of Eric’s hand resting on the table. “I got you,” he said again, because he did and he always would.

[dollslayer]

Pull

Sam Wilson x f!Reader

Summary: A brief interaction in the hallway with Sam leads to a mischievous moment between friends with benefits.

W/C: 1,693

Warnings: Smut, deepthroating, face fucking, hair pulling

A/N: In honor of Sam's birthday and @whisperlullaby 's 700 challenge (Congratulations!! I'm so soft for you Sam fics so I thought I'd roll with it!) I present you this!! This is my first Sam fic so I hope you guys like it! I know that descriptors of hair can make fics not always the most inclusive but I tried really hard to make this so that anyone could read it. If you feel like there's anything I can do better to make my fics more inclusive please please just message me and tell me! I want my fics to feel like they're made for everyone! p.s. - If you haven't already feel free to check out my other fics! If you liked this fic let me know! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

You’d always kept your hair short, it was just easier. When you were young you didn’t want to deal with the trouble of caring for it and now it would just get in the way when you’re out in the field. The last thing you need is hair in your eyes messing up your shot or it getting caught in the various straps on your uniform.

You’d missed two hair appointments before leaving on a month-long mission and came back to a mountain of paperwork. Before you knew it another month had passed and then you spent another two just catching up on the rest of your life. Getting another appointment crossed your mind but you kept pushing it off and you didn’t trust yourself enough to take clippers to your own hair. I’ll call tomorrow became a regular note to yourself, just not one that ever got addressed.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to head to the gym that you looked at yourself in the mirror and realized how much your hair had grown even in just that short time. Sighing, you searched for something to hold it back with so it’d stay out of your face. After wrestling with it for a minute, you had enough to make a small ponytail. Okay, for real I’ll call tomorrow. You set off towards the gym.

Making your way down the hallway with your headphones on you hadn’t heard Sam calling your name. He jogged to catch up to you and pulled you back by the ponytail to get you to stop walking. You felt your stomach drop a little bit as a jolt of surprise went straight to your core. Your hair had always been too short to put up, let alone to grab.

The look of surprise must have made it to your face because Sam immediately let go. He took a step back and moved to apologize after he let out a nervous laugh.

“I-I uh, sorry I don’t know why I grabbed your hair. It looks good though!” Sam said reassuringly, “Have you been growing it out? Um, sorry, anyways, I just wanted to make sure you were still down for later.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Yeah, yeah I’m game for that. Just text me the details.” You replied slowly.

With a lop-sided grin and a nod Sam turned on his heel and walked the other way. As you pulled open the door to the gym you replayed the moment when he grabbed your ponytail in your head. Images of him holding your hair tightly in his hand while you went down on him flashed through your mind. What if he just pulled a little harder? Quit it, just get through the workout. You needed a cold shower.

___________

You did end up taking a cold shower after your workout, unable to stop thinking of the feeling of Sam’s hands in your hair. You two had been maintaining a friends with benefits relationship for a few months and tonight you were going to hang out.

You really enjoyed Sam in bed and as a friend, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to blur the lines. He was on the month long mission with you and you had gotten to know him so much better. You’d found that underneath his cocky and joking attitude was a good man that cared deeply for the people in his life. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want what you and Sam had to be more.

As you got ready for the night in you tried to decide what to do with your hair. Even though you hated it getting in your eyes you couldn’t deny it looked kinda cute when it was down. You set your hair free from the ponytail and let it fall around your face. You admired it in the mirror and set to work on your makeup.

__________

It had apparently been a rough day of training recruits for Sam, which meant it was likely going to be a rough night in store for you too. Not that you minded, Sam always pushed your boundaries but he also respected them so you never worried when he was a little bit more rowdy with you.

Much to your surprise and slight annoyance Sam was soft tonight. Normally this would make you swoon but if you were being real, you just wanted him to rail you and grab your hair again. Before you realized your feelings for him you were able to be a little more demanding in bed. Now that you were aware you were slowly falling for him you had become suddenly shy when it came to vocalizing your wants, almost afraid that you might let it slip that you wanted him in total.

As he kissed your collar bone you thought of ways to get him to do what you wanted without coming out and saying it. You suddenly pushed on his shoulders and flipped him so you were the one on top. You made your way down his body leaving trails of bites and kisses that had soft gasps escaping him. You took off his boxers slowly and maintained eye contact.

Finally his cock was free from its confines and it was hard as a rock. You smirked and took it in your hands, feeling the veins throb under your touch. You started pumping your hand up and down his length and let out a moan that gave you all the encouragement you needed.

You looked up at him and smirked. Showtime. You stuck your tongue out to taste the dab of precum that gathered at his tip while you dipped your tongue into his slit. He jolted upwards in momentary shock and gasped again. You could see he was trying to hold his hands at his sides, let you take your time. You could also see he was hanging by a thread already.

You took the tip of his cock into your mouth and let your tongue set his nerves ablaze. Slowly inching more of him into your mouth and using your hand on what you didn’t take. Until you didn’t. You took a breath and removed your hand, swallowing his length in one go. Sam let out the low groan that had you moaning in return. The vibrations of your voice caused him to involuntarily buck his hips upwards.

“Baby… oh my god, what on Earth are you doing to me?”

You just smiled to yourself and kept going. Sam gave into his instincts and brought one of his hands to your head, fingers tugging on what he could gather of your hair. He didn’t grab it like you’d hoped he would, just rooted himself in it and guided you gently. You looked up to find his other hand grasping desperately at the sheets with his spare hand. Okay, now do that to me You thought desperately.

You decided to double your efforts to see where it got you. You gagged as you tried to breathe through your nose while you bobbed up and down on his cock. His hips were bucking even more and you could tell he was getting close.

With no warning both his hands latched onto your hair to hold your head in place while he started to fuck your face. You were taken by surprise, even when Sam was at his roughest he’d never done this. You had to admit it was hot to see him lose control like this. You shuddered as he gripped your hair even tighter, reliving that feeling from earlier in the day. You clenched your thighs together and felt wetness stick to them as you kept your focus on breathing and getting him to cum.

Your plans were interrupted abruptly when his hands pulled you up by the hair off of his cock. You tensed in pleasure at the feeling, the tension pulling at your roots and the intense eye contact you made when he brought your head up to meet his eye. His chest was heaving, his cock pulsing and tensing from the near-orgasm.

“That was, Oh my god. I don’t even know what that was” He said as he exhaled. “Sorry I’m pullin’ on your hair again”

He untangled himself from your locks and pulled them just a little bit more in the process. You clenched your thighs again at the feeling and bit your lip to keep from moaning. Sam noticed this and his signature smirk graced his face.

“Unless… you like that?” He questioned knowingly “Does that turn you on? When I pull your hair?”

You felt heat come to your cheeks and you held back a coy smile as you looked away. You were almost too dazed and cock-drunk to feel humiliation but it still crept its way into your brain. Why am I embarrassed? He already knows. What the hell is this man doing to me?

Apparently you took too long to answer because one of his hands caught the hair at the back of your neck and forced you to look at him.

“Answer me, baby. Does it make you wet when I pull your hair?” His hand crept down your body and he swiped your folds. Bringing his hand up in front of his face so you both could see the way your slick dripped down his fingers. He smacked his lips and then sucked his fingers clean.

You could only whimper and nod when his grip tightened. His grin only grew wider watching you squirm.

“Is that why you took me so well just now? You wanted me to grab you? Wanted me to fuck your face?”

Good lord, the mouth on this man. He moved around you so that he was on top of you, lips almost brushing with yours.

“Bad girl, keeping things from me. Think you need to be punished?” he teased. His cock was still hard and you could feel it between your thighs rubbing between the mess you’d made.

“Yes, please”, You moaned a little at the feeling and nodded. This is going to be a long night.

[may-day-voice]

Prom Night Lights - The Beginning

Katsuki Bakugou Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

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It was supposed to be a simple day. A simple, normal day filled with anticipation and excitement. The day when you stepped into the real world outside from the safety net. But you never prepared for what was to come, for the hurt that would inflict, for the dark to overshadow.

You weren’t prepared for your heart to break.

You grabbed hold of hands that grasped onto your fingers, hanging upside down in the air while maneuvering yourself a safe distance from the crash site. Out on patrol with fellow interns turned into a rescue mission when a massive traffic incident occurred in one of the most populous intersections in Musatafu. Cars and trucks were mangled or destroyed, billowing smoke into the air while emergency personnel made headway in tending to the wounded.

Meanwhile you floated towards the borders of the intersection, carefully dropping a casualty towards medics on the scene. Your hands were covered in blood and soot, having to pull those who were trapped within the metallic wreckage.

“That’s number three,” you called, still dangling aimlessly in the air.

“Impulse! We need help here!” Called a fellow intern from amongst the crash site.

With a click of your ankles, you landed onto the ground to push yourself back into the air, soaring towards your teammate above the fire and smoke. His large hands lifted part of a car, revealing a young woman in the crash, her eyes searching above while she breathed erratically.

“Don’t know how long I can hold this up,” warned your teammate, his usual stoic gaze now concentrating on keeping the mangled car lifted for access to the woman below.

“Here, grab my hand,” you ordered, floating slowly into the maw of the wreckage while reaching for the woman inside. The look in her eyes caught yours, finding the fear written all over them, terrified.

A slip of your teammate’s feet caused the car to creak, almost snapping onto you from above, your hands immediately pushing against the heavy wreck in reaction. Your eyes searched in his, concerned about the situation only to notice he found his footing again.

“I’m okay,” he reassured, holding the car back once more. “Go.”

You drew back to the woman, spotting her body recoil back inside in fear. With a deep breath, you slowly floated back in, hanging upside down with your hands outstretched towards her. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” you coaxed, your open palm inviting her in.

Slowly, her shaking hand reached out, grabbing hold of yours. With both your hands securing her grip, you slowly floated out from the hole, taking the woman with you, her weight pulling at your arms before you spotted her feet clearing the maw.

“Let go now,” you called, watching your teammate finally relieve himself from the strain and the piece of metal crash into the wreckage that trapped a casualty.

Two hours. It took two hours to help clear casualties from the crash site. The aftermath left you and your teammates to be checked out by medics before being discharged from the incident, followed by your supervisor Kido back to the agency for a debriefing on today’s activities.

It felt like a quiet day, which was good for the most part. You scratched two hours of the day, plus another hour for debriefing and cleaning up. It allowed less strain on your body, and more focus on other events you had penciled in ever since-

“Man, you? A plus one? Lucky,” spat a classmate of yours inside the locker rooms. “I would kill to get past those gates.”

“You really don’t mean that,” you replied in jest.

“Oh no, I do. Truly, happily.”

“Have you figured out what you’re dressing in?” Spoke another, the same one who helped you on the rescue. “You should talk with him about that.”

“Coordination is key,” chirped the other.

“Guys, it’s a first time thing, okay?” You reassured. “They’re in the middle of graduating right now for all we know.”

“But to be invited to a prom of all things in UA? Whoever is the event coordinator is a genius.”

The vibrations of your phone caught your ear, spotting a text message appearing on your screen. A sneak peek of the message was the usual - an ETA for tonight. That was all. You noticed the messages were getting shorter and sharper with your beau. It has been over the past year. Still, being the final year in UA was probably a stressful time for students from across the board. You had felt the pressure yourself at your schooling.

“You think if I could catch Todoroki’s eye maybe-“

“Stopping you there,” interrupted one of your classmates, his drowsy aloof eye staring at the other. “He’s probably taken.”

“You don’t know that!”

“He talks about someone from his school very frequently. I think he’s taken.”

Another buzz from your phone caught your ear, checking the screen to spot a message from someone unexpected. Eijirou Kirishima’s name was emblazoned in the text box with a video attached. Watching your classmates bicker between themselves gave you the perfect opportunity for you to view this message without their attention, opening it to reveal the stage of the graduation. Perhaps this was very recent, considering the time of day it was before a familiar blond student walked up to the podium. You couldn’t hold back your smile, watching Katsuki Bakugou be congratulated on his graduation day, and turn irately towards the camera following Kirishima’s loud and rambunctious celebratory yell from the crowd.

“Did your beau send something juicy?” Chirped your classmate, turning to find a coy smile on her face.

“What? No!” You deflected, placing your phone away. “I gotta make tracks anyway.”

“You better take photos or it didn’t happen!”

You waved both of your teammates goodbye, hoisting your backpack onto your shoulders to add more weight to your less than convenient gravity. Stepping out of the agency, you tapped your toes before making your way towards the tall white gates of UA. Despite the lack of information you gave to your teammates back at the agency, you had already picked out your formal wear. You had planned to make a day of UA’s graduation for their students, knowing your own from your establishment was happening first thing tomorrow morning. The more time you could spend with the city’s foremost Pro-Hero candidates equaled sacrificing one night of preparation for your graduation, at least you convinced yourself as such.

Everything had been planned ahead of time, thanks to your beau’s meticulous need for timing. However, you had other plans ahead of his own, ones you had announced to him during his plans which, to your dismay and unsurprising predictability, did not please him. Reassurance wasn’t his strong point, and you’ve learnt it wasn’t yours as well. At least when trying to ease his passive aggressive tantrums.

Another buzz of your phone caught your attention again from those thoughts, picking it up to find a text message from Izuku Midoriya of all people.

Can’t wait to see you again! You’re on the way?

Actually, I’ll be another 20 minutes. How was the ceremony?

It was great! Everyone’s excited here at the dorms. I’ll be setting up Gym Gamma for tonight, so meet me there?

And Kaachan can’t wait either.

You chuckled at the words, wondering how Bakugou must be feeling after today. It made you wonder about the months leading up to today. In fact, it seemed a bit odd, watching him at the agency being almost cold and aloof, answering you in short and distancing himself half of the time. Again, UA was a prestigious academy. You thought the same way that the stress must be getting to the students.

Further fact, that short text felt like-

Yeah, I’ll meet you at Gym Gamma. Let Bakugou know I can’t wait either.

Lately it had been this way, communicating with other students rather than Bakugou himself these past months leading to the end of the school year. You’ve heard from Midoriya, Kirishima, even Denki Kaminari spoke to you a few texts here and there. Bakugou however had gone dark some of the time. You recalled a few times in your second year having constant late night calls with him, some of those nights being a saving grace when the both of you were too busy to just stop for a coffee or a shake. But nowadays, he had been-

Hey! You coming over soon? Kaminari is practically begging for a player two on his team.

I’ll be there. Just stopping by somewhere first. Maybe another 25?

You better hurry up. Bakugou’s practically wiping the floor with him in this game.

Well, another thing to slot in, but nothing that detracted from your original plans. With a smile, you continued on your walk to UA, hands on your straps while you felt the strain on your shoulders once more.

——

Soon, the familiar white gates appeared. As per usual, you stood by the entrance, waiting for some time before being verified to enter the grounds. It took a while for this process. At first, you were accompanied by your beau when he came along to invite you, or when he had to make it for Management classes. However, over the years, it became an infrequent visit with the Hero students. Lately though, it was between how quickly the guards could phone a friend. Even more so, it was less your beau, and more so one of the Hero students, whether it was Midoriya, Kirishima, or even Shouto Todoroki of all of them. It used to be Bakugou, but even he had been slow to answer.

After being granted entry, you immediately made your way to Gym Gamma, watching the large group of students prepare for the night. You had not seen so many fairy lights in your life while they were being strung up high across the pathways and into the auditorium. It was a mess, but it was organized chaos while you traversed between wandering students and piles of decorative materials for the festivities to follow.

“Midoriya!” You called from across the auditorium, spotting the green-haired boy ahead. His eyes turned towards you with a smile, lightly jogging his way through the auditorium.

“Hey, how are things?” He asked with a hug, his large arms engulfing you.

“Pretty good, we were in the middle of a rescue mission in the city,” you replied with a smile. “But that’s all the excitement today.”

“You’re not excited about tonight?”

“I mean, yeah, of course I am! Congratulations! Think I can collect my clothes?”

“Oh, right, I don’t have them on me because of everything happening right now, but they’re at Heights Alliance.”

“Then, why did you ask me to come here first?”

“I wanted to say hi.”

You chuckled at his reply, happy to see Midoriya well. There had been some controversy with all that happened throughout the years, things that you felt were considered taboo, however, stories came with time. You noticed the extra scars across his body, also recalling the scars Bakugou had received during Musatafu’s darker times. The worry that drowned you was immense, only subsiding after months of silence, and that one phone call from Todoroki surprisingly.

With a goodbye, you left Midoriya to his devices in the auditorium, leaving him behind for Heights Alliance. Eventually both shoulders felt sore from the weights in your backpack, deciding to only hang the bag from one shoulder and feeling your toes scraping the ground. According to the predetermined ETA, you had a few hours to spare. Still, it felt like you had very little time left until you stood before Class 3-A’s dorms. Midoriya had explained he left your formal wear with Bakugou, who by his description of the event, reluctantly agreed. With a heavy sigh, you made your way up the stairs, only to bump into somebody walking out from the dorms.

“Oh sorry!” You blurted.

“No, you’re good!” Quickly piped the student before they walked away from the stairs, lightly jogging towards the large pathway towards the school. You watched them take flight, trailing with a dress suit on their shoulders only to shrug it off and continue into the dorms, knocking on the door.

Luckily, that student left it ajar.

“Hello?” You called inside, spotting very familiar faces by the lounges in the foyer.

“Yes! My player two!” Yelled Kaminari, quickly running up to you and pulling you inside. “Kaachan keeps whipping my ass!”

“That’s because you suck, Dunce face!” Growled Bakugou, his red eyes flashing towards the door before they laid on you.

“You made it just in time. Kaminari was getting desperate,” voiced Kirishima with a toothy grin.

You nervously giggled while being dragged inside, noticing how careful Kaminari was to keep your feet on the ground. It had been a couple of years now, but ever since that scare, you figured Kaminari had learnt his lesson. Otherwise, by the way Bakugou was, it came as no surprise that Kaminari was just being more careful around him. You smiled at the irate blond before Kaminari handed you a controller, soon convincing Kirishima to join in a game of teams. It was a whirlwind of a greeting, suddenly being sucked into a game of wits and fun with the Hero students. It was the release you needed filled with laughter, for at least a good hour losing to Kirishima and Bakugou.

After admitting defeat and a quick conversation with the students, Bakugou led you to his dorm, taking the elevator up to the fourth floor. The ride was silent, leaving you to wonder what was going on through his head, stopping yourself a few times to speak until the doors opened on his floor. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar dual-haired student speaking with another by the stairs with quiet voices before being led to Bakugou’s door, watching Bakugou unlock it-

“Congratulations,” you finally spoke, catching his ear. “I got to witness your graduation, kinda.”

“What do you mean?” He asked gruffly while allowing you in.

“Kirishima sent me a video.”

“That Shitty Hair sent it to you?”

“I thought you knew.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Please don’t.”

A grunt escaped Bakugou’s lips before he made his way to his closet, pulling out your outfit already packed in a large box. You smiled up at him, taking the box from him and placing it on his bed.

“Thanks Bakugou, I really appreciate it,” you warmly said while you opened the lid.

“What are you doing?” he asked with genuine confusion.

“Getting dressed.”

“Here?”

“Well, Midoriya offered to help but since he’s been put on the event committee I have to do it in your room.”

“So the nerd was going to dress you?”

“Do you want to help me?”

The look on Bakugou’s face was one of confusion, anger, and frustration - a fairly normal reaction for the most part. However, unbeknownst to you, he felt a flush of heat wash through his cheeks. This was never discussed between Midoriya and himself when he agreed to hold onto your outfit for tonight. In fact, the getting dressed part was never mentioned. His thoughts held his focus until he glanced your way, already stripping off your shirt.

“Wait a goddamn minute, Lightweight!” He yelled, stopping you from stripping any further. “At least, let me turn my back on you.”

You soon found Bakugou’s back indeed turned to you, looking out his window instead. You couldn’t help a small giggle before you walked up to him, grabbing hold of his wrist. “I just need your hand on my shoulder,” you reassured, placing his hand across the crook of your neck. “Just ground me. I won’t take long.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but still kept his eyes outside of his room. Every movement you made caused his fingers to slip on your skin, feeling the tension in your muscles. He figured you had that backpack on for some time to keep you from flying away, but he also felt something else other than that. The short amount of time you spent with everyone downstairs gave him an odd feeling. Even the elevator ride up to his room was tense. Bakugou knew he hadn’t been keeping contact whether at the agency or on call, but today he saw something that you wanted to say.

It bothered him.

“Okay, you can let go now,” you said, allowing Bakugou to release his fingers and turn around to see you now fully dressed in your attire. What surprised him the most was that you were on the ground without any apparatus to hold you.

“Bracelets,” you explained, showing off metallic braces on your wrists. “And anklets. It took a while for support to come up with something practical for social outings.”

“Um… you look… good,” he complimented, taking you by surprise.

“Thanks, I’m glad you think so. Anything that’s good for Lord Explosion Murder-“

“Shut it with that name! It’s Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!”

You giggled again, finding the joy of pushing his buttons sometimes before you noticed the time - close to the ETA.

“I’ll see you tonight, God Dynamight?” You asked with a smile. All you received was a scoff, enough of a response from Bakugou before leaving his dorm room and heading for the elevators. On the way, you walked past Todoroki, greeting with a quick hello before disappearing into the elevators, eager for the night to start.

Bakugou couldn’t stop this feeling that had him aloof and frustrated. He had tried to tell himself otherwise, focusing on his studies and his credentials to become a certified Pro-Hero. But with every phone call, every text, every passing moment he saw you, something stirred. It felt good, but it was wrong. You were with someone else - that Management student - that he knew did not treat you with the respect you deserved. The number of late night phone calls were proof of that, and yet, you still stayed with the man.

He couldn’t fathom your choice. And he hated it.

“Are you busy?” Asked Todoroki by his open door.

“Does it look like I’m busy?” Spat Bakugou.

“No.���

“What is it, Icy-Hot?”

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Bakugou eyed the dual-haired man, filled with anger from his thoughts, but silent without a scoff or a grumble. “What’s it to you?” he questioned with a sneer.

“We all know he’s bad news,” continued Todoroki. “Nepotism at its best.”

“Look who’s talking Half-and-Half, son of the Number One.”

“The point is that he’s rotten, never worked a day in his life, and was given a silver spoon. All signs of an arrogant, spoiled, hand-fed individual. And he doesn’t deserve them.”

Bakugou turned his glare onto Todoroki, noticing the seriousness in his eyes before he walked away from the door, leaving Bakugou with his last words. The blond stood in his room, contemplating on Todoroki’s words and the number of conversations to and fro about this feeling. He knew that the Management student was a bad egg, someone undeserving, yet he knew he couldn’t actively try to convince you. Even though he had time and time again called your beau a moron, it wasn’t enough.

For once, he hated not being direct over these years.

He grumbled while he rummaged through his closet, pulling out the outfit Kirishima had picked out for him for tonight. Perhaps seeing you later would ease the tension headache that persisted.

——

Night fell across the sky with the dying light of oranges turning into purples and the stars twinkling in the clear. The number of students that made their way to Gym Gamma came in waves, including the Hero students who came as a group. Despite his friends trying to persuade him to join, Bakugou advised he needed some time to get ready, earning a teasing jeer from Kaminari. Bakugou cared less about what words were shared, preferring to keep himself hidden after a majority of students had made their way to the prom planned for their graduation.

He was left to his thoughts, hoping that you had already made your way to Gym Gamma with your date for the night. He didn’t want to see that picture of you in his arms, knowing you chose him. That frustration brewed, coming to terms with his want of asking you to the event for months, and not going through with it.

After some time to his thoughts, Bakugou made his way, walking alone on the grounds of Heights Alliance. The quiet was deafening despite the loud music catching his ear ahead in the auditorium. He felt trapped in this emotional limbo, desperately needing to do something to satiate his need to see you. Pulling out his phone, he located your number, immediately texting without any hesitation.

I’m expecting a dance.

He smirked, feeling some sense of pride in himself, and hopefully reprieve from his own emotions until the sound of a phone caught his ear, one that immediately received a text. Bakugou stopped, turning towards the entrance of the school lecture halls, past the shoe lockers that lined the room. The closer he made his way, the louder the sobs, finding your cries echoing in the empty halls.

“Lightweight?” He called, catching your attention before you quickly tried to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks.

From around the corner of the stairwell, you found him climbing towards you, his red eyes glaring at the sight of you sitting on the stairs, leaning underneath the railings.

“What did he do?” He quickly snapped.

“Nothing,” you spoke through your tears, attempting to calm yourself down. “He did nothing.”

“Like hell he didn’t!”

“No, Bakugou, just-“

“I’m gonna kill him.”

You saw a rage unlike anything you had seen in the blond. Despite your emotional state, you had gotten used to Bakugou’s anger, even understood it. But this was almost unspoken of, seering through his very core. Bakugou lost control. His own emotions spilled upon seeing you torn and worn, used and spat out as opposed to how happy you looked hours ago. Whatever frustrations he held, they were unleashed with a furious rage.

“He broke up with me,” you admitted, gaining Bakugou’s attention from the whirlwind of emotions he felt. “He didn’t want me to drag him through the mess that I am. I didn’t save enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t-“

You held your head in your hands, trying to keep the tears at bay until you felt large hands grab hold of yours, pulling them away to reveal yourself to Bakugou, his eyes glaring into your red sore ones.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Asked Bakugou, his voice painted with a calm tone despite his gruff voice.

“… am I a Hero?” You asked, sniffling while your eyes looked away from his. “Am I good enough?”

Bakugou was surprised and yet confused by the question. He was still trying to understand his own feelings, this abrupt need to protect you everywhere you went despite your own independent and wayward nature.

“Five. I only saved five in two hours,” you continued. “And there were more bodies-“

You stopped your breath, holding your tears back from the thought, before the realization dawned on Bakugou. He had kept up with the news recently, a way to pass the time while waiting in his room earlier that night. An incident occurred in Musatafu involving multiple cars in a massive crash, and he recalled the body count.

He held onto your hands tightly, now realizing your hesitation to speak or start conversations. It would’ve been at the forefront of your mind, only masked by the smile you had all day for UA’s graduating classes. The next thought to follow left a bitter taste, wondering what that Management student must have said to you to think this way. With what Todoroki and he had discussed earlier that day, Bakugou could only fathom the disgusting nature of your interaction with someone who looked down at failures.

Tears continued to well up in your eyes. They wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t until you felt a large pair of arms hug you close, pushing you against the stairs but closer to his chest, engulfed in his embrace.

“You’re more than good enough,” whispered Bakugou in your ear, comforting your head against his shoulder. “You don’t need my approval or anyone else’s for that matter. You make that choice for yourself. You’re smart, you have common sense, half the time, and… you’re one of the few people I can talk to.”

He pulled you away, his eyes now glued back on yours while you stared into his, swallowing the words you just heard moments ago.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he slowly started. “You deserve better than that trash. You know I already call him a moron, because he is one. You-“

“You ground me,” you interrupted.

“What?”

“You’ve always grounded me Bakugou. You’ve kept me close. You’ve always looked out for me. Why?”

Bakugou choked, wondering what to say, almost feeling like he was cornered, surrounded by the emotions that had been drowning him for months. Was it right? Was this the moment?

“I’m sorry I asked,” you quickly quipped, trying to stand before you felt yourself pull back into Bakugou, his lips crashing into yours. It was a light kiss, despite the rush into it, almost hesitant on its touch before you eased into his rhythm. He was warm, tender, and it lit a spark that you wished would never stop while you held onto his neck. He pulled away slowly, caressing your cheek and embracing your breath on his, feeling every part of you while you sat by the stairs.

“You’re worthy to be a Hero,” whispered Bakugou. “And I’m proud to have you stand with me out there.”

“I’m worthy to be next to God Dynamight?” You asked with laughter breaking through your tears.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh.”

Whatever sadness that broke your heart was mended in that moment, by none other than Bakugou of all people. Still, for all those moments the both of you shared, you felt a bond with him, one that incited jealousy from a growing toxic partnership. He was an explosive light that brightened the dark. He was the warmth that healed the pain.

“Still, the God Dynamight will always keep me grounded,” you continued with a smile. “Starting from zero.”

“Just call me Katsuki, dumbass,” he inferred with a growl, causing another giggle to erupt from you. “How about you come to my graduation prom with me, Twinkle Toes?”

Today was meant to be a simple day, but it wasn’t simple at all. It was more than that.

It was the start of something wonderful.

[kevyfanfics]

Touch Deprivation: When in Doubt, Hug it Out

Trying this out!! Seen a lot of “tumblr fics” out there so I thought I’d see how if goes :) This is part of my “Irondad Ending in Platonic Cuddles” one shot series!

---

Peter sits on the edge of the sixteen story building, feet dangling towards the street below as cars inch their way through the lunchtime traffic. Golden beams of the midday sun reflect in his lenses, but he doesn’t feel their warmth. It’s not the same. He sighs and a cloud of steam floats through the crisp, winter air.

“May has texted you that she won’t be able to make it home tonight for dinner,” Karen softly relays the message. “Her shift has been extended.” Peter closes his eyes and focuses on the chilled breeze.

“I know.” For once, his voice is ladened with defeat and acceptance. This has been the usual for the past few months. May has to work extra shifts to keep up with the ever-increasing bills, he has school and Spider-Man, mix those two together and they’ve seen each other for a total of four hours in the past week. He’s been counting. He knows keeping track isn't a good sign, but what else is there to do?

“Peter?” Karen’s voice reaches him through the deep thoughts. Peter opens his eyes and hums a response.

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?” He considers the question. Ned and MJ have been asking him that a lot lately, but he hasn’t quite found a good way to answer it. He just…doesn’t know how he feels. He’s not sure he does feel. He just kind of exists.

“I miss…people,” he settles on. It doesn’t feel right, but it doesn’t feel wrong, either. Feelings are difficult and he doesn’t have the energy to decipher them. Instead, he pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. The pressure against his chest feels nice. Comforting, even.

“You saw MJ and Ned today,” Karen gently reminds, trying to coax more out of him without pushing it. Peter takes in another deep breath before shrugging.

“I miss May,” he finds he’s able to clarify. He loves his friends, but coming home to an empty house for two months straight is different. If it weren’t for patrols and workshop days, he’d go stir crazy over the break.

“You had dinner with her last night,” Karen attempts, her voice sweeter than usual. “That was nice.” Peter continues to stare at the pedestrians as they cross the street in hordes.

“The only reason we ate together was because we both got home at 2am and had leftover Chinese takeout,” he counters without much thought. Even to his own ears his voice is monotonous. He feels like he lost a part of himself, but it makes him feel selfish. May’s working hard to make sure they can get by and he’s a bit lonely.

Either way, last night was a rough patrol and he ended up unceremoniously climbing through the window at 2:13am all battered and bruised. That’s all he’s gotten recently. Nothing but punches to the face, kicks to the stomach, bruises to the ribs, blood coating his hands. Nothing but violence. He hasn’t had a single, positive touch in two months. No hugs, no loving hand rubbing his back, no lingering touch in his hair, no gentle thumb smoothing over his palm. Nothing but violence violence viole-

“Peter, your alarm is going off.” Karen’s voice pulls him back once more, and it takes him a moment to process what she just said.

“Hm?” He blinks sluggishly, then unfurls his warm legs from his chest, already missing the pressure.

“It’s time to head to the workshop,” Karen patiently provides, an absolute saint as usual. Oh, Peter thinks, it’s already four. It doesn’t feel like 4pm, but he can’t exactly argue with time and space. Rolling out his stiff, aching shoulders, he lazily flings out a web and starts swinging to the Tower. He just goes through the motions: thwip, double tap to release, thwip, double tap to release.

And, in what feels like the blink of any eye, he’s there. His muscles are taut and trembling from the frigid air, but when he slips inside one of the countless windows, the warmth from the Tower at least helps minutely. As soon as he’s clear, he pulls off the mask and breathes in fresh, spandex-free air. His teeth chatter and he warms his arms up with his hands, but besides that he’s no worse for wear.

“Hey, Fri? Where’s Mr. stark?” he asks through chattering teeth hidden behind blue-tinted lips.

“He's down in the shop. I’ve alerted him to your arrival,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. promptly replies and he nods a quick thanks. First, he goes to his room to change into normal clothes, then catches a ride down the elevator. His lips are more of a peach color again, but his teeth still clack against each other as his body tries to generate some warmth. Stupid spiders with their no thermoregulation. The elevator comes to a halt and he walks into the music-ridden, always-bustling workshop.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” he shouts over both the welder and the guitar solo. Tony’s head pops up and the music lowers at the wave of his hand.

“Hey, kid,” he greets, lifting his goggles with a smile. “How’s your bumps and bruises.” Peter shrugs, hardly remembering the superficial injuries from last night’s fight, before sitting on the nearby stool.

“Don’t really feel them anymore,” he answers honestly as he rubs his hands together. Feeling is hard these days. Tony raises a curious eyebrow, then sets down his tools and saunters over to the teen.

“And is that because of the super spidey healing or the ice cubes you call fingers?” he inquires casually. Peter glances up and tries to put on his best I’m-really-not-in-the-mood-for-this face. Nonetheless, Tony chuckles at the expression. “Alright, alright, just get warm at least.”

“I’m trying.” Peter looks back down as he responds, but then an unexpected touch has him freezing in place, muscles tense.

“Jeez, bud, you’re frozen,” Tony mutters aloud as he rubs Peter’s hands in his own to provide more warmth. It takes more than a few seconds for Peter to register what's happening. But when he does, he slowly looks up at Tony as the man continues to warm the cold hands in his own. For some reason, it makes Peter want to cry. The hands are gentle, carefully moving back and forth and all he can focus on is that it doesn’t hurt. After months of nothing but agony and breaks and blood, there’s finally something full of love and support.

He closes his eyes and his eyebrows pull together…and he starts to cry. He doesn’t mean to, but the tears slip out in a mix of relief and pent-up devastation. His toes curl under in an attempt to regain control, but it’s already too late.

“Peter? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Tony suddenly questions when he sees the tears and Peter’s distraught expression. All Peter can manage is the shake of his head, causing tears to fall from his chin and onto his jeans. He should’ve been more prepared, but he wasn’t expecting the concerned tone or the protective hands encasing his. He didn’t realize he was touch deprived until Tony held his hands, the first positive touch he’s had in two months. Two months. “I need you to talk to me so I can help,” Tony tries to get through to him, kneeling at his level.

“I- I don’t-“ is as far as Peter gets before a sob cuts him off. He wants to curl up in a ball and never face the outside world again. It’s like his armor has cracked and the cruel reality of just how brutal and heartless the world can be is flooding in. It’s breached completely when one of Tony’s hands leaves his and cups his cheek.

He doesn’t hold back the sobs after that.

He simply cries, leaning into the soft touch and grabbing his mentor’s wrist like a lifeline. The thought of losing the contact now is unbearable. He can’t. He just can’t. At the action, Tony seems to catch on. This time, he pulls Peter into his chest and holds the kid tightly in his arms.

“You’re okay,” he assures into Peter’s curls, “I got you.” Peter feels them begin to rock and a hand rubs its way up and down his back in a comforting, predictable motion. He pulls in shuddering, uneven breaths, but his body isn’t ready to calm down. Instead, he grips Tony’s sleeves and buries his head in his chest so that his sobs are muffled by fabric. All the built up emotions force their way out, but being hugged is all he needs. Warm, strong arms keeping him safe. His cries rip Tony apart at the seams and he wonders how he could’ve missed this. It’s a basic human need to have positive, physical affirmation, something Peter evidently hasn’t had for a while.

The hug eases the aching in Peter’s chest and he holds on tighter. He can’t lose this feeling again. After all these weeks of apathy and going through the motions, he’s finally able to feel everything.

“I can't- there’s no-“ Tony gently hushes him, afraid that the teen will work himself into a panic attack if this keeps up. Honestly, it’s the last thing on Peter’s mind. He just knows he doesn’t want to be let go.

“Deep breaths, kiddo,” Tony patiently encourages. Peter can feel him shift and he registers that they somehow made it to the floor while he was focused on gripping the fabric closer. Breathing, Peter recalls, breathing is important. Gotta breathe. Just have to- He takes a deep, shaking breath, but the exhale becomes a sob and he just can’t pull himself together and he hates it and he just wants to be in control again- “I’m so proud of you.” He starts at the quiet, genuine admission. “I’m unbelievably proud of you,” Tony continues. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time. Sometimes strength is asking for help when it’s tough.” Peter’s chin wobbles and fresh tears glide down his cheeks. He nods into Tony’s shoulder, and pulls his legs to his chest for extra comfort.

“It’s, it’s been tough for a while,” he divulges in a hoarse whisper.

“I know, kid,” Tony acknowledges, lightly combing his fingers through Peter’s hair.

“I didn’t,” the teen confesses in a whisper. He really hadn’t seen any of this coming. “I thought I was okay. I, I thought I was fine just doing what I,” he swallows, “what I was doing. I didn’t think it affected me this much. It was just…I didn’t feel anything.” Apathy was probably a more apt description, but it was true. He hadn’t felt any intense emotion in such a long period of time that Tony’s loving, concerned action sent him into overdrive. Tony lets out a deep breath and rests his chin atop Peter’s head, tucking the kid into him to provide as much comfort as possible.

“From a scientific standpoint, lack of human contact decreases cortisol levels and NK cells,” Tony points out. It might seem like a cold and calculating response, but he knows what he’s doing; he’s putting it into perspective for Peter. He’s showing the kid that it isn’t just all in his head. It’s a physical change to a lack of touch. Peter let’s out a breathless chuckle, his wound up muscles starting to relax into the hug.

“A, uh, a hug needs to last at least twenty seconds for dopamine and serotonin to be released. Happy brain chemicals,” he adds with a sniff, closing his eyes. He just needs a moment to take it all in. It’s rare for Tony to be the one to illicit physical contact, so he accepts it while can.

“Well then,” Tony softly starts, “guess we gotta wait til you have enough happy brain chemicals.” He situates them more comfortably on the floor, then tightens his hold. Another trembling breath escapes Peter, emotions still raw and superficial, but manageable. It's a start, and if that start just so happens to be in Tony’s arms, maybe it’s not such a bad one.

[imkylotrash]

Love Me With Your Worst Intentions

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: May I please request something which is Hardin Scott x an insecure reader. I just think it would be really sweet but with a slight touch of sadness ya know? Anonymous

The note reads ‘Be back later. Don’t wait up’. A classic Hardin message that always makes your stomach do a flip. He has yet to tell you where he goes or who he sees. It’s not that he needs to inform you of his every move - you’re not trying to be his mother - but a general picture of where he is would be nice. Especially with the reputation he’s got. Now the logical part of you knows that he is deeply in love with you and wouldn’t see someone behind your back, but he’s also hurt you in the past. Whenever you thought about how the two of you started out, all your insecurities comes out. You’re aware of how pretty and thin the girls that he hooked up with were. You know that he never cared who he hurt or how. You know about that poor girl back in England whose life he tore apart because of some sick joke between him and his friends. It makes you worry if you’re good enough for him. Good enough for him to change and be the man you know he can be. 

“Landon, hey. Can I come over?” It’ll do you no good to wait for him alone. Your thoughts will get the better of you and you’ll make stupid scenarios in your head that probably aren’t true anyway. So who better to call than Landon who can always talk you down. He’s the only one who knows how you feel and how insecure standing next to Hardin makes you feel.

“Sure. You’re always welcome.” It takes you 20 minutes to grab your purse and head over to Landon. The two of you proceed to spend the night having a movie marathon that takes your mind completely of Hardin and what he might be doing. You’re always been insecure even when you were little and the other kids made fun of your accent or your clothes. Boys would tell you to lose weight and girls would make fun whenever you tried to put on makeup. And being with Hardin just made those feelings come back 10 times over. Never being sure how he feels about you and knowing his past conquests. 

“Stop!” You look over at Landon surprised by his outburst. 

“I can tell you’re thinking about him and clearly he’s not bothered about you right now, so he doesn’t deserve your thoughts.” Landon isn’t really Hardin’s biggest fan at the minute but doesn’t mean that he’s not right. Clearly, Hardin will rather be doing whatever he’s doing than spend time with you. So you clear your mind of him and focus and Landon and the movie. At 2am you decide it’s time to head back to the apartment. 

“I’ll see you Monday.” A brief hug is exchanged before you get in your car and drive back. You noticed that you have unread messages from Hardin but you don’t want to open them right now. It’ll just be him asking where you are. Instead you drive straight home preparing to face him and his anger. 

“I’m home,” you call out not even bothering to be quiet. You know he’s up waiting for you. 

“I texted you. Where the hell were you tonight?” At least he’s not drunk this time. Though painfully sober isn’t exactly much of an upgrade. 

“I went over to Landon’s house,” you reply moving towards the bathroom. You’re tired and don’t really feel like arguing tonight. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” 

“Oh, like you tell me where you go? Maybe I should just give you a note next time with some vague explanations to my whereabouts!” You have no idea where this courage is coming from. Normally you go completely quiet when he picks a fight. 

“You don’t need to know where I am all the time,” he dismisses you. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But then that’s mutual. I can go wherever I please, and you can’t say a word about it.” You know it’s wrong to agitate him because Hardin is the embodiment of the saying “don’t bring a knife to a gun fight” and you’re the poor sucker who brought a knife. When he’s like this, he will feed off of your insecurities and make you feel so low. 

“What’s your fucking problem? If this is how you’re going to be, I think I might just head on over to Molly instead.” He regrets it the minute he says it. You know he does, but his pride will never let him admit that. You see red. Molly is your biggest insecurity and he knows how she makes you feel. It’s all just too much for you. The comment pushes you over the edge. 

“My problem is you. My problem is that with the way you treat me, I should hate you!” You quickly cover your mouth with your hands as if that will keep him from hearing the hurtful words spilling out of you. 

“Then go!” You deflate. 

“You want me to go?” You’re whispering because you don’t really want to know the answer to your question. Your moment of bravery is gone and now all you can think about is how badly you need him to just hold you and tell you that there will never be anyone else. That nobody else compares to you. 

“Yes.” Three letters, one word, a thousand knives to your heart. Of course, he’s said this before without meaning it but your mind isn’t built for these games. 

“Fine.” You start grabbing random things to throw into the bag before heading for the door. You blink rapidly to get rid of the tears blocking your vision. It’s all just getting too much for you. 

“Don’t go.” 

“You told me to go. I’m just following orders.” It’s not even meant in a passive aggressive way because there’s no fight left in you right now. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t love you. 

“I didn’t mean it. I was upset.” What’s caused this sudden change in behaviour is a mystery to you but all that matters is how calm he seems now. Not in the eerie way when he’s so angry he might start trashing the room, but in the calm way when he knows he pushed it too far and hurt you a little bit more than last time. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to me. You can’t talk about Molly and then ask me to leave.” Your hand is still on the doorknob but you’ve let go of your bag. 

“I know.” It’s the closest you’ll get to an apology from him - something you’ve learned the hard way. 

“You don’t get it, Hardin. I hate the idea of all the girls I am compared to when I’m with you. I hate how Molly is so stupid gorgeous and I’ll never be that pretty. Or confident. And I hate the fact that you make me feel unloved because I am madly in love with you!” After that whole monologue you find yourself out of breath and desperately trying to hold back the tears that will inevitable fall. It’s the first time you’ve aired your insecurities like that. He knows you’re not Molly’s biggest fan, but you’ve never really told him why. 

“I love you. When I see you all other girls fade away. You’re that beautiful. And just the thought of you not feeling that way is disgusting. It’s a waste to even try and compare you to anyone, because nobody comes close to you,” he admits hugging you tightly. And just like that the Hardin you love and adore is back. 

“I’m just so tired of feeling like I’m not enough for you.” 

“I’m the one who should be feeling like this, not you. In every universe you will always be too good for me. It’s not even a question. How I conned you into loving me will remain unanswered but I’m thankful every day. Even if I’m a complete and utter asshole to you.” 

“Kiss me, Hardin.” He complies immediately sliding his hand down to your lower back so he can pull you closer. You let your fingers run through his hair just the way he likes it. 

“I don’t ever want you to feel insecure in yourself or in your body. You are easily the fittest person I’ve ever been with and definitely the most amazing,” he whispers. He’s intertwined his fingers with yours and it’s a simple move but it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. After his declaration he carries you to the bedroom where he proceeds to prove to you three times just how much he adores your body. 

[horansqueen]

New Angel - Chapter 3

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.6k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

For some reason I ignored, Louis' only solution if I wanted to get over Grace was to have sex with an other girl. I had no idea where it came from, and I agreed that it could make me think about something else for a few hours, but he was delusional if he thought it would make the feelings I had for Grace disappear completely.

I wanted to, though. After seeing Grace again, I knew that getting over her was the only rational thing to do. I also knew it wouldn't be easy, but i guess it was part of the process of a heartbreak and I had to go through the pain, the anger, and the sadness no matter what. It didn't mean I couldn't try to push all of those feelings away for a while. The worst kind of pain is probably the pain that never stops. It hurts until it actually drives you insane, whether it's physically or mentally. If you get a few moments of respite, even while knowing the pain will come back, it was not as bad.

As soon as we walked into the club, I regretted it. Louis and I were more into pubs where we'd sit with friends and have a good laugh and a pint. This place was anything but a place where I could relax with friends. I had agreed to follow though and I kept in mind that whenever I would have enough, I could just take a cab and go back home.

Millie was dressed to kill. I had never seen her dressed like that. She was wearing a skirt and a tank top, had put make up on, and the necklace hanging from her neck seemed to shine with the lights of the room. She tilted her head slightly to touch one of her long earrings and I raised my eyebrows, wondering what exactly she was looking for. She turned to look at Louis who was looking around the room and after a few seconds, we both followed him to the bar, ordering a few drinks.

"Are you trying to get laid tonight?" I asked my friend, glancing at her as I leaned against the counter, my beer in hand.

"I thought the goal was to get you laid." she replied with an amused smile, raising her eyebrows and taking a sip from the colored beverage she had ordered.

"So did you dress like that for Louis then?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, moving her face closer to mine. "I dress only for myself, Horan." she explained, licking her lips. "Never forget that."

"I'm just not used to it." I shrugged, placing both my elbows on the counter behind me. "You're more the sweatpants and t-shirt kind of girl."

She glanced at me and sent me an amused smile. "Fat girls can wear nice clothes too, you know."

"You proved that, Millie, there's no doubt." I smiled more. "But there's nothing wrong with sweatpants."

Millie didn't answer and I turned to her, noticing she was actually scanning the room. It took her a few minutes and she just sighed and turned to look at me.

"I noticed about 6 girls that could be your type." she pointed out. "I'm sure you won't have any problem to pick a girl tonight."

"My type?" I chuckled, grimacing. "I don't have a type."

"Tall, skinny, brunette, sexy. I can't tell their personalities from here but she's also got to be cheeky, flirty, and an attention seeker."

"That's rude."

"No, it's true."

I pushed my free hand in one of my pockets and took a long sip of my beer. I was a bit annoyed and insulted from Millie's words but I couldn't say she was wrong. Perhaps I didn't see the girls I crushed on in the same light as she did, and clearly, I didn't have the same relationship with them than she did, but at that moment, I decided to pick someone who was totally not my ‘type’ just to spite my friend and prove her wrong.

My eyes traveled on the room to find someone interesting. First, she had to be blonde, second, It would be even better if she was a bit shy. I noticed a cute girl sitting at a table on the other side of the room. She was looking around the room, nibbling on her bottom lip as if she was uncomfortable to be here, and when some of her friends got up, she seemed panicked. One of the grabbed her hand, pulling her with the rest of them and she shook her head a few times before giving in.

"Okay," I let out, swallowing what was left of my beer. "I'm ready."

Millie chuckled and got up from the stool she was sitting on. "Go, Romeo. I'll try to find Louis." she just said. "Will you bring her back home?"

"I'll try."

"Well if you do, text us so we're not surprised tomorrow morning, okay?"

I just chuckled and left, walking quickly to the girl who was now dancing in the middle of the dance floor. She started laughing with her friends and before I could reach her, she twirled on herself and finally bent down to tell something to her friends and left. It was weird to follow her again but when she reached the bar, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to talk to her.

"Hi." I said, bending down and sending her a smile when she turned to me.

Her face changed and she smiled back at me, clearly a bit embarrassed. She was exactly what I needed. She tilted her head slightly and started playing with a lock of her hair as I tried to keep the focus on her eyes. They were blue, but a darker shade than what we normally see, or maybe it was just because of the lights of the place, and her blonde hair was cascading down her back. She was pretty, very pretty, and when she pressed her lips together, I wanted to kiss her.

"Hi."

"Uhm, hey, can I buy you a drink?"

She seemed to hesitate and glanced back at her friends still going crazy on the dance floor before her eyes met mine again. She glanced away again and finally, she nodded quickly.

"Okay, sure." she smiled more. "I'm Summer."

"Nice to meet you, Summer." I replied, moving slightly closer. "Niall."

"So, you're here by yourself, Niall?"

I chuckled, sliding a bill on the counter when the bartender came back with her drink and turned to face her. "No, I'm here with a few friends. There's somewhere around."

"I'm here with friends too, but they're all a bit drunk." she explained, pointing behind us.

I turned to look at her friends laughing and dancing again and chuckled, raising my eyebrows and looking back at her. For some reason, I felt like her name suited her perfectly. Was it crazy to feel like she was a warm breeze on my cold broken heart? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Summer could make me forget Grace for a few hours, and I really needed it.

They were so different that nothing from Summer's physical appearance to her personality could remind me of Grace. Still, I surprised myself to compare them, and it bothered me. I breathed in and closed my eyes for a few minutes, trying to remind myself that it was impossible for me to forget completely Grace just because one pretty girl smiled to me.

We talked together for about half an hour and every time she laughed, it made me smile more. She was like an angel appearing in my life at my worst time and somehow, she made me feel like it was possible to be happy again. We had a few drinks together and when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, I grabbed it and read Louis' text message.

'We're leaving. If you need us, we'll be in my room.'

I chuckled and sent him a thumb up emoji before looking back at Summer. I let my eyes travel on her and groaned low when my eyes fell on the top of her dress. I hadn't had sex in over a month and it was getting to my head.

"Niall? Are you alright?"

I looked up at her again and chuckled, a bit embarrassed that I had been caught. I scratched the back of my head and raised my nose up in a grimace. "I'm sorry, you're just so fucking beautiful and... You wanna come to my place?"

She seemed surprised but her lips still curled slightly as she stared at me. "That's quite bold of you." she replied before giggling. "Do I look like the kind of girl who sleeps on the first night?"

My lips parted and suddenly, I felt stupid and guilty. It probably showed in my face because she started laughing louder and I exhaled.

"Niall, relax, I'm just kidding!" she smiled more, getting up. "Give me your address and phone number."

"Why?"

"So I can give them to my friend. You know, just in case you're a serial killer."

I took my drivers license out of my wallet and handed it to her. She quickly typed on her phone before looking up at me and tilting her head again. "So, do you have a car or we have to get a cab?"

I smiled at her and we ended up in the back of a cab, her lips pressed against mine. They were warm and I could have sworn her lipstick tasted like strawberries. I ran my hand on her naked thigh, moving up slowly, but she pressed her legs together, stopping me from going farther.

"I'm sorry." I whispered against her mouth, moving my hand away.

"No it's okay, I'd just rather wait until we're at your place."

I nodded and sent her a small smile, letting my eyes roam on her face. She was so different than Grace. In fact, she was different than all the girls I dated before, and if my memory served me right, from all the girls I had sex with, too. I didn't know what it was, I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something about her that made me nervous. I was scared to do the wrong thing, or say something that would embarrass her, or make her mad. It was not a bad thing, I was just not used to that kind of girl, and I couldn't say I didn't like it. Uncertainty was somehow exciting, and the fact that I couldn't predict what she'd say, do, or how she'd react made me more attentive to everything I did.

It was dark when we walked in my apartment but immediately, I recognized Millie's whimpers and I closed my eyes and groaned low, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't mind my roommates, they're probably fucking in one of their rooms." I whispered as Summer followed me to the hall.

She chuckled and I turned to look at her just as the moon illuminated her face from the window and it made my lips curl. If I was with Grace, I would have told her something like, 'let's show them what we can do' or 'I'm sure we can outdo them' but with Summer, I had no idea if she'd think it was appropriate or not and I decided to keep silent.

I didn't take time to turn the light of my room on, I just closed the door behind myself and pulled Summer close to me, her body pressed against mine, only half a second before my lips pressed against hers. She followed my lead and that too, was a bit new. I was used to be with girls who knew what they wanted and would go get it. Summer was letting me take control, stopping me when she thought I was going too far.

I ran my lips on her neck, smelling the sweetness of her perfume, and she let out a very low whimper when I moved her dress up until her waist. I was impatient and I wanted her. Perhaps it was only because I hadn't had sex in a while, or maybe it was because I knew it would make me forget about Grace for about an hour, or maybe it was Summer who had that effect on me. It didn't matter, and I tried to push all those reflections at the back of my mind to focus on the way her body moved against mine.

I brought her to the bed, my lips attached to hers, and when I slipped my hand in her panties, I felt my cock twitch in my pants.

"Fuck, I want you so bad." I whispered before helping her lay down on my bed.

I moved on top of her and her hands ran on my back, under my shirt, leaving a warm trail on their way. They moved around me and she reached for my pants, unzipping them and pulling them off slowly. It was not the pace I was used to either and I started feeling dizzy but when her hand wrapped around my cock, I let out a curse word and blinked a few times, getting used to the dark. She was smiling and I smiled back at her as I felt her spread her legs a bit more.

"There's no rush, right?" she asked in a very low tone.

"There's no rush."

She sat up and pulled her dress over her head, moving it gently as her hair danced around her face, and I suddenly regretted that I didn't turn on the light. She sent me a shy but big smile and laid back down as I pulled on her panties slowly. She moved her hips up and the sight was amazing. I looked at her, laying naked on my bed, and I realized the constant pain in my stomach was not there anymore. I didn't know when it would come back, but I didn't want to think about it. I grabbed the back of my shirt to take it off, letting it fall on the floor and took the time to take my pants off, bringing my boxers with them.

Slowly, I moved on top of her and kissed her deeply, reaching at the same time for my bedside table. I grabbed a condom in the first drawer and Summer chuckled, making me move away slightly.

"You can reach them with your eyes closed?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "I'm thinking this isn't the first time you bring a girl you barely know in your room."

I let my eyes roam on her face as my lips parted. I couldn't tell her I was used to make this move because every single time my ex girlfriend and I had sex, I would grab a condom in my drawer exactly this way. I couldn't tell her I was heartbroken and using sex as an escape from the pain killing me inside. I couldn't tell her that she was probably a rebound and that I was still not over my ex girlfriend. Instead, I decided to turn it into a joke.

"Are you jealous?" I asked with a smirk before chuckling.

"Mm, very." she replied, joking too, as her hands ran on my shoulders and slid on my chest. "But you're with me now."

I stared at her and my amused smiled turned into a fond one. "Yes, I'm with you now."