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ballorawan740 · 3 years ago

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SCP Scenarios: SCP 1678 (Unlondon) x Reader (REQUESTED)

Source: Photo

Requested by: @lilithisfurry

Ok, so I've done it!!! 😃

Before any of you say a thing, I know that there are 2 humanoid 1678s which are 1678-A (Bobbies/Policeman) and 1678-C (Wretch) and an avian type one (1678-B)

The one I'll be using is 1678-A (Policeman) because it takes too much time to write 3 versions of this SCP (But I might consider writing the other 2, but it's highly unlikely)

First Encounter

When you first met this humanoid, you were sent into SCP 1678 for some test

The police humanoid emitted a loud whistle as the speakers screamed ‘‘Police! Halt, criminal!’’

A couple of others who were with you attempted to shoot them with their guns but were quickly shown to be resistant

Luckily for them, they managed to plant some explosives which caused damage

The other 1678-As went in and attacked them which wasn't unusual because of their hostile nature

However, for you, one of them managed to capture you and ran

For some reason, it showed some interest towards you and warded off the other SCP 1678-As off from you

They seemed to understand that you were "marked" and left you alone

That particular 1678-A managed to get you out from harm and back to your foundation

The foundation staff did wonder what had happened and you told them everything with proof since you were wearing a bodycam

They've soon noticed that this particular policeman was softer towards you as you bandaged up its broken arm

Your feelings for him

After the incident, you were sent back down into 1678 for further research and you bumped back into the sane 1678-A

You only remembered that it was him because of its gesture and its unusual markings which distinguished him from the others

Somehow, you both were able to communicate with each other

The researchers realised that they seemed to understand human speech, mainly English, however, they seemed to understand other forms of European languages as well

Moreover, this particular Bobby also understood sign language and used it to his advantage to communicate with you, displaying some fondness for you

The researchers were reluctant to let you carry on with this test as they've noticed that you've reciprocated the same gesture

Let's just say that the researchers and the other Bobbies agreed to the fact that it was strange for you and that special policeman to be dating

His Confession

Over time, as you both became closer, he worked up the courage to sign to you that he cares a lot about you

And you've found that rather cute and returned the gesture

Which then made you both a rather unique type of couple

The other 1678-As were concerned and curious about this new relationship and so was the Foundation

The researchers had decided to borrow your newfound partner and took him to his new room (No, you've basically kidnapped him)

Needless to say, the other Bobbies were somewhat furious while others were glad that he's gone since he betrayed them for not killing you

Your new partner was somewhat homesick, so you've decided to paint some victorian style art for his cell

Date

From time to time, you both were shoved back into 1678 which just so happens to be the main place for you both to date

Some of his friends were relieved to see him and some would even offer you a hug

You obviously returned the gesture for being so flattering and because your man could finally get laid (NGL yall still be touch starved to the point you'd even date strange beings and objects)

Dates with this Bobby would be rather interesting

Like, he'd hold hands, but probably wouldn't start it during the beginning of the relationship because he's just shy (Just like everybody else here)

Since his face is all bandaged up, you wouldn't really be having many kisses

But he'll make it up with hugs instead

His fellow friends would probably enjoy bothering the both of you while you're there and would pull pranks on you both

If you both were in the foundation, you'd be chilling in his cell and talking bout your experiences in life (Not like you'd have much to say, get back to studying/work)

The researchers may poke fun of you both but would generally leave you both alone

When he gets jealous

Now, depending on who he's jealous of, he would react differently

If it was another fellow 1678-A, he would be slightly hostile and assert his dominance over the others

However, if it was a member of the foundation or anyone else that's not 1678-A for that matter, he'd be even more aggressive and would probably try and kill them

Unless you manage to stop him then it's fine

This Bobby would be slightly possessive because you're the only other person who genuinely cares about him other than his 1678 friends/family

If he sees you having a friendly chat with another person/SCP, he would wrap an arm around you just so the other person knows you're taken

I think over time he learns some boundaries so even if he is aggressive, he wouldn't just automatically send the dude you're with to hell

Unless that person is a crappy person then good for them

Yandere!1678-A

This yandere right here would literally kidnap you and take you back into 1678

He'd make sure that you would never find a way back into the foundation which does concern the researchers, so they send a group of D-classes and MTFs to find you

If he was feeling nice, he would let you wander around 1678 but he would most likely be next to or near you at all times

If he was having a bad day, he would tie you up in a random building and made sure that nobody can get in or out

Would most likely be even more hostile to everybody else around you

If you haven't behaved, he'd probs use something sharp to inflict pain on you

If you managed to behave, then he loosens the ropes around your arms, legs and neck

Probs would feed you tiny doses of 1678-D but only a bit because he's aware of how that affects the bodies of ordinary humans

Their younger sister

You and the other 1678-As would literally be families at this point or friends with the ones who are lurking away from the main area of 1678

And since you were rather new, you were treated as the younger one (That's also because you're the youngest one)

Would probably protect you from everything

You would be spoilt to death and wouldn't have to hurt a fly

One of the policemen would get you a 1678-B as your personal pet

And it's rather fond of you so it basically follows you around

Would most likely intimidate your dates if you have one

Even more so if they're a human/SCP from the Foundation

If it was another member of 1678 then they're more chill

However, if you were dating 1678-C, they'd be quite reluctant for you to be in a relationship with her but would let you anyways

When their kids say their name for the first time

Would 100% be crying internally and shocked

Like, it happened out of the blue since you both were just relaxing

Word would spread across the whole of 1678 because of this

And not because you both were a unique pairing in the first place

1678-A would try to teach your child some sign language in contrast to you who would teach them to communicate verbally

Most likely try and teach the kid to defend themselves and probably attack others

But you wouldn't let him because they were too young (Just like you lot!!! Shouldn't y'all be studying in primary or high/secondary schools?)

The other 1678s would literally yeet their way to meet the kid just so they can teach your child to say more words

And to swear of course

When his S/O is angry

Oh dear

If the foundation doesn't know any better, they'd just assume that all the Bobbies were the aggressive ones

And oh boy were they wrong

You were the one who needs a chill pill

Basically, some guy tried to hit on you and wouldn't stop

So you just casually gave him a taste in his own medicine

Which were a punch in the face and a kick in the nuts (Kids, don't do this to a guy unless he really deserves it)

He somehow got back up and carried on harassing you

Your man was just strolling around the park until he saw the commotion

He had to literally hold you back and made the guy run for his life

Which was a shocker since it's usually the other way around

And of course, everybody inside 1678 heard about the news and cheered on for you while others just ran since they didn't wanna have the first-hand experience with your anger issue

When someone tries to steal you away

Oh this man right here would gather all his police friends as well as the birds to hunt down whoever stole you away

He would be furious to the core and rightfully so

The foundation was informed of this and they didn't blame this SCP

And that's because the person who stole you was from the Chaos Insurgency

Both GOIs hated each other's guts so the foundation just kinda let 1678-A hunt down the guy

And he did along with the MTFs

But was met with you standing over the guy's dead body

Then everybody realised that your man taught you how to protect yourself

And you did it so perfectly that even 1678 was intimidated af

Nobody wanted to mess with you and your partner was relieved that he taught you self defence

When his pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident

This particular 1678-A that just so happens to be your partner, is rather shy and introverted

Nad although he does his 'job' well, he would rather just stay away from any contact

Until he met you and you became pregnant

This 1678-A would be slightly more protective but would let you have some space

And because of this, you managed to give yourself a papercut

Which was met with a furious policeman

But was cooled down when you explained your injury to him

He was giving you a huge lecture about your safety and how not to get hurt because you're carrying his baby

Wouldn't leave you alone ever again

Even if that means he would have to sit by the corner at all times

Would send his mates to come over to check on you if he wasn't there

Meeting a dragon hybrid child fem!reader

Definitely would be curious about you since they mostly interact with Foundation staffs

Probably would try to attack you but instead got burnt

1678-A would definitely notice your strange appearance and that you cry lava

Would feel bad so he'd try and comfort you

This then leads to you both being rather attached to each other

This particular 1678-A would have to bribe the others to keep you

The foundation realising this would happen

Probably would let you stay there for research purposes

They would most likely help level up your telekineses

Treats you like their own child and would be extremely protective

Most likely would have a heart attack every time you show kindness towards foundation members instead of attacking them

Every time you're in danger, the ones attacking you would soon realise that they've screwed up

Because the SCPs can hear you cry which would summon a whole bunch of them

When he accidentally kills you

He was basically chilling with you until some MTF members arrived to take some samples for testing

They were attacked by the other 1678-As and retaliated

This chill guy would lead you to safety before attacking the remaining MTFs

You realising what has happened decided to try and help out

You noticed that one of the MTF members were about to shoot your guy and managed to throw the gun out of his hand

1678-A notices and tries to attack the member but instead killed you

The remaining MTF members flee as he mourns your death

He would be even more vengeful and aggressive to the foundation members

Which does scare off the other Bobbies

Stayed in one of the abandoned houses to cry alone

Yandere!1678 - A x Evil!Reader

I'd say aside from his yandere self and the fact that he's only more aggressive to everyone else aside from you and giving you some scars, he's pretty dense and thicc in the brain

Probably wouldn't notice that you were working on them for a project in the GOC

You were able to get away with a lot of things because of your small stature and innocent appearance

Definitely managed to fool this yandere!1678-A because of your appearance

You could be just as vicious when you want to be

Yandere!1678-A soon realises that you were just using him for some experiment and were angered to the point of no return

Would most likely try and hunt you down

But since you've already got enough information about this SCP, you were able to devise a plan to leave

Manages to catch up to you but you were fortunate enough to know enough self-defence tactics to ward him off

You never came back to him and he was depressed for all of eternity

Trying McDonald's Sprite

You were requested to bring some ordinary food to 1678 as a test

And you've decided that you wanted to bring some Sprite with some Apple pie, mozzarella dippers and pancakes (They're my soul food from Mackies ok? Don't judge)

When you arrived in 1678, that one particular policeman who is attached to you for some odd reason was curious about the food

Of course, he would need to take off the bandage on his head to taste the food but not before some bribery from you

He reminisced about the food since he loved eating them before he turned into 1678-A

Sprite, however, was slightly different

He never tried them and was surprised with how good they tasted

Most likely would ask you to get more for him though

Foundation staff would be rather conflicted but allowed you to reward him with Sprite and some food

Only whenever he behaved well though

When his kid swears at him

You should've seen the look on his face (oh the irony)

You both taught your kid verbal and non-verbal communications with some common sentences people would say

But never have either of you taught your kid how to swear

Kinda just happened and 1678-A was about to go into cardiac arrest (Pun intended)

Would hunt down whoever taught them that depending on the severity

Like if the kid was using a ton of swearing in a sentence and was directing it to either of you, 1678-A would kill the guy

You were more of a chill type of parent

But would recommend the kid to stop swearing sine it's rude

Most likely wound ground the kind for a week tbh

When the reader scares him (Child!Reader)

Well, let's just say you managed to make the policeman play hide and seek with you

And you were the one hiding since you secretly knew that you were a professional at it

So you made 1678-A to find you

And although he's pretty good at catching his victims, he couldn't find you (Cuz y'all be so short)

Like he was literally in front of you and he still couldn't see you and you even giggled

So you've decided to jump on him

And oh boy was he about to scream out for help

But luckily he didn't cuz the others would whoop yo ass

Probably wouldn't give you a lecture but would need a while for his precious heart to not go yeetus the fetus

He would probably yeet you though tbf

When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dance

1678-A probably would have some ideas on what pole dancing is

Maybe not as much with the term aerial silk dancing but would soon understand when he sees you dancing

Probably thinks that you're trying to fondue with him if you're pole dancing

Definitely would be in awe when he sees you dance with the aerial silks

Would have a difficult time mimicking you if he ever wants you to teach him

Has definitely fallen 1000 times while pole dancing and broke his arms while dancing 10 ft off the ground

If the others inside 1678 see you dancing, he'd be in a blushing mess, especially if you were dancing to certain kinds of songs

Would most likely tell you to dance for him privately so there's no peeking

Having a Pregnant!S/O

Would most definitely be on the guard more since you're carrying his child

1678-A would most likely follow you around like a well trained and clingy German Shepard

You'd most likely have to tell him to tone it down because you're pregnant, not some delicate flower

Would most likely do whatever you tell him to do, even if it means hurting himself as long as you're safe and sound

Definitely would make sure that another 1678 would be around you at all times when he's away from you

1678-A would occasionally rub your stomach and sing victorian era songs

Sometimes he would bring you some of your favourite foods

When you try to commit suicide

When he hears the news he was devastated

He literally ran 69 miles just to see you

Would give you a big boi lecture about doing that

Nearly had his heart jump out of his body

Would constantly follow you everywhere after this

He's basically your bodyguard at this point

Would bandage up your wounds

Makes sure that you're fed well and all and would give you random gifts out of the blue

Would most likely ask the other Bobbies to care for you if he's not there and would even give you 1678-B

Asks the Wretches to keep a lookout to make sure nobody hurts you

Having a hopelessly romantic/easily flustered GN!Reader

This particular Bobby would most likely be just as easily flustered and hopelessly romantic as you

I'd imagine him trying to make the first move and you both being in a blushing mess

You both would exchange little gifts every now and again

Everyone else just teases and ships you both

You both loving each other unconditionally and constantly worrying about each other when you're both away from each other

This Bobby would definitely protect you from the MTFs and/or D-classes from attacking you

You would make a deal with the foundation to keep your guy safe and sound

The foundation witnessing how lovey-dovey you both are and just dies of cringe and sweetness overload (but not as sweet as out 999)

#scp #scp scenarios #scp x reader #scp headcanons #scp x reader headcanons #scp x reader scenarios #scp 1678 #scp 1678 headcanon #scp 1678 scenarios #scp 1678 x reader #scp 1678 x reader scenarios #scp 1678 x reader headcanon

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strawberry-nugget · 3 years ago

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Stargazing [through the five stages of grief] | K. Bakugo

★Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki/ reader

☆Synopsis: after Izukus sudden death you and Bakugo find comfort in each other

★Warnings:18+, minors do not interact, sexual themes(SMUT), aged up characters, grieving and coping mechanisms, depression as part of a stage of grief, language

☆A/N: I wrote this for @starstruckkittensweets 's Summer Romance Collab collab I also cried multiple times while writing this for so many reasons. Dedicated to my friend @aichiin in hopes this is any comforting to her <3

★Word Count: 10.6K

i. denial | 3.28 am Just when you think silence is going to engulf you in lethal restraints, he's got you. Held and embraced, away from all the evil in the world, pouring a fountain of tears in the burgundy of his tank top. The beauty of the seashore is unmatched at this time of the year -end of July- honey colored sand spreading to as far as your eye can see, lining the white foams of the water perfectly. It shines under the moonlight beautifully golden, as if Midas' touch has grazed each and every speck of sand; it's almost a pity to watch some weather away in the soft evening breeze. Not many stars are visible with how bright the moon is and you simply can't stop thinking about it, the numbness in your heart as you're trying to spot the only few constellations that you know, but even them seem unable to shine brighter than the light of the moon. But he- he shoots a hand to the sky with one eye closed as he mutters something under his breath. It makes your heart pause. You don't catch it though -whatever it is he said- ears deaf to the feeling of being pressed too tightly into his broad chest -to an asphyxiating point, even- but you catch your heart fluttering again for the first time in weeks. A good sign, you guess, the little excitement that you feel can overthrow the buzzing void in your heart, or your head. "That's the Hercules one right? You've been trying to find it for years huh?" You feel the humming in his own hollow chest more than you hear the soft muttering that leaves his lips. This heat he usually emits is probably gone by now, from how tight he's holding you and you're not entirely sure why he's putting on that show for you. The soft pretending of searching for the stars when he won't let your face turn to the direction of the sky, or why he just so effortlessly knows all the constellations you've been trying to find. Under any other case you'd call him a show off, a self contrasting asshole and his sloppy hold around your chin and neck proves that you've never been this close, as expected. He doesn't know what you like or how you'd rather be held, or even, how anyone would like to be held and you don't know anything about how to handle someone like him but social expectations don't matter when comfort is needed, or whatever Mina and Ochako said. The air smells like salt and seaweed, musty and a bit heavy, but refreshing at the same time. As refreshing as hot July air could ever be yet you still find the breeze chilly, so you coo into chest even more, throwing a leg over his thighs, and flexing your palm on his ribs. In response he soothes his hand down your shoulder, trying to create some much needed friction for you. "You can drop the act now" You mutter, rubbing your cheek comfortably onto the soft cotton of his tank top

"What act?" "Trying to comfort me, trying to use me to comfort yourself" There's hurt in the way you talk, and it jabs his heart peculiarly, making him push you off his chest just one but so he can meet your gaze. When he does, you realise you've never been met with such a serious look, and your mind vibrates in what your own confrontation towards him should be. "I mean, why be comforted? We're strong. We're heroes, we-" He shushes you, with a gaze and a snake-like lisp sound that rattles out of his teeth. "What's insufferable for me, I'm guessing, is even worse for you" He clears his throat just when his voice gets a bit raspy from laying on his back "and I'm a hero, it's what I should do. He would have wanted this as well you kno-" "He would have wanted you to be yourself not try to become him" You nuzzle your nose deeper into his chest, avoiding his eyes and the prying stars that decorate the sky above, feeling watched, betrayed by how they're able to shine so brightly despite the loss you're feeling. But then again, why wouldn't they shine? Isn't life just supposed to move on even after a loved one isn't with you anymore? Stars aren't supposed to go out, to become more or less as time goes by, they've seen distraction and glory and fall -it's only you who finds

it cruel that they can still shine in times like this. "He would have wanted me to be better. It pains me more than you to admit" Katsuki has never shown such an appreciating side of himself when it comes to your late friend. Or he has and you've just not been there to witness. Or, perhaps, you've chosen to turn a blind eye to anything that's ever brought them close because you weren't the most fond of him since childhood. Yet, a feeling inside your chest commands you to oppose him and his word. Even by the comfort of his own chest. There's no denying that you've wanted to hate the one who's nothing but comforting you, but you find yourself stuck between grief and a burning heart. It leaves you numb, maybe, to think that he so graciously holds you as if nothing else in the world matters. When this shouldn't be the case. "Why, why does this have to happen to us? We're supposed to save people, losing people is-" "The biggest part of the job" He finished your words for you, strobing that little rattle of reluctance he senses in your voice "We didn't-" "Sign up for this?" You nod at his inquiry "in a way I think we did. He always pushed himself and if you say you never saw it coming, you're lying" "I didn't" "There you go" "No, no" You shake your head "he was strong. This shouldn't have happened, it's unfair and it's-" "It fucking damn is unfair but there's no rematch for him. I wholeheartedly agree, it shouldn't have been like this. We shouldn't be here, days after his damn birthday, hollow and mourning. He should have been here, we should be celebrating" He's not going to call him an idiot. Not anymore. Not even because he's hurt you or anyone as a matter of fact, but because he's come to respect his dead, he's come to lose the attitude when it comes to seeking help, or giving it. It's something Izuku has taught him, a strong moral that no longer rests in the back of his head as a possible value to characterise a hero. It's rather a reality, such a strong wave of consciousness and coinsense that washes through his body all the time. You think, qualities of Izuku, wash through your soul in waves too. "But suggestion is oceans away from reality" Katsuki whispers and just then, the tender touch of his fingers lingers in between your locks. Only for a split second, and for the sole reason of flicking some hair on top of your ear, to shield it from the chill of the air. You're not certain if you act on your grief's accord or not when you grab onto his wrist to prolong the soft petting of his hand on your head. But he complies with you wordlessly, sighing out a heavy bubble of air off his lungs. "That's not the hercules one" You whisper "Huh?" "The constellation" It's oddly satisfying how you coo deeper into his chest, even if you can't see him pop one eye open to peak at the sky "that's Ursa Major" "Like fuck it is Ursa Major" "Katsuki, is this your first time stargazing?" You ask quietly and he wraps a hand around your waist to drag you a little closer towards his chin. When he does, he rests his chin onto your hairline. "I can't believe I opened a goddamn map for this and couldn't even distinguish the hercules one from the Big Dipper" You hammer out a little giggle. It sounds mechanical but still, he mimics you, and you can not only feel the vibrations in his chest, but the movements of his chin too, as he mellowy rubs his soft skin on your hair, soothing his lips on your head from time to time. The breaths he lets out of his nose are silent, yet you feel them calming you down, so warm and so calming against you. "The Hercules is a big constellation but it's not bright at all, you have to catch it on a moonless night and it's usually gone too early" Katsuki sighs. The process of taking in your words in analogy with late Izuku is too strong and it's too early for him to touch a subject that even so reminds him of the situation. It's more than enough that you two got to talk about it tonight, or rather, about your feelings, but at one point the line is drawn on what's harmful to his soul. A sole mention of the condition of a constellation should be making his stomach churn, and it definitely shouldn't make him hug you tighter into him. For one, the phenomenon of the constellation's nature has been around for longer than he has been who he is, and will still be when he's not. This small coincidence, even if it rubs salt to the wound, is not the fault of a small mass of stars gathered together to form something human eyes can recognize as a kneeling figure. Izuku's life is probably just a parallel to the greek myth of hercules, or so, he likes to glorify, but when it comes to him, there's noass of stars for anyone to remember him by.

Izuku falls and dies so long as the memories of his friends live, finding shelter behind a myth, a legend, a course change in the history of humankind that lead to this specific moment. Him, mourning with you, on the beach that Izuku cleaned years ago, feeling his heart ache in sync with yours. And maybe, maybe if- "If I close my eyes and fall asleep, will I wake up and realise that this is all a bad dream?" You ask as if you don't know what the answer is going to be and he tries to not indulge in feeding you a void of hopes just to make you feel a bit more sure of your future, or try to convince himself he'll have a good one too. He wants to reply positively, just as much as he wants to wake up too in a reality where Izuku is still alive, and he's got to say everything he's ever wanted. He knows, some nights he'll find himself thinking he would like to go back and change the course of his own history, whatsoever, to never hurt Izuku for naturally having qualities he had to work for, or change the fact that he's been harsh and cruel. The 'why us' inquiry that arises in his chest as he's stroking the slightly greasy hair on your scalp is what's left to bounce in his head for now, eating away every curly corner of his brain, turning any other thought into a wasteland, yet, still his answer to you is what he would rather not hear, bathed in a cruel nature he's tried so hard to lose from his persona. "I wish it were just one bad dream" There's so many questions in his head; are you asleep? Or will he hurt you by trying to force himself into accepting Izuku's death? Are you prone to being hurt and pricked by how raspy and serious his voice sounds? Because you don't make a noise, nor a sniffle, and your hand isn't tightening around the collar of his shirt anymore. He wishes too, it's all a bad dream. For the lover that you lost, and for the person he's known better than anyone, the person that knew him better than anyone. But it's not. And the mellow sound of waves crashing on the shore bears a tune to convince him to forget, but the water won't reflect the stars he can see with his bare eyes. Thus he's asleep before the lurking darkness in sound and sight gets him too. Just for a while, just until it's his own turn to face oblivion. A small part of his brain, though, convinces him he'd face any oblivion so long as he gets to fall asleep in your arms like that, over the soft, warm sand, on a chilly July night.

ii. anger | 9.47 pm If you could only know the reason you're yelling, tears wouldn't be spilling from the corners of your eyes, down your cheeks just to drown on your overly stretched mouth, wetting the lips that are stinging in splits and bruises of dehydration. He's not one to back down while facing the disdain of his own feelings. When that disdain should be directed on how petty the cause for your irritation is, you're both focused on the snap of nerves inside each of your heads, chests heaving as you're staring at each other dead in the eye; you, from the cold seat of your couch, Katsuki, from the numbing howling that seeps through the cracks of your front door. The bags in his hands are heavy with groceries and the weight of this peculiar, unspoken agreement to settle together. It's hidden in the affection behind every piece of vegetable and fruit in the tote bags. Even if the night is young, he's got a look in his eyes that mutters how

willing he actually is to grab a pot and a spoon and cook for the two of you. But you know- he shouldn't put pressure on himself after a late patrol for a chore you were supposed to fulfill. If only he wasn't on your ass about ordering take out. "You can't fucking order again." He speaks, grunting more so than accentuating the words as he probably should. But he's irritated you, so much that you've spent the last ten minutes yelling at each other while standing frozen in your places. Probably, a neighbor has heard and your mere response to the alarming social anxiety that arises from that fact is apathy. You're already directing a big amount of angry spouting at the blond, there's no such room to experience other feelings right now. "Fucking hell, Katsuki just stop! I don't fucking care if you think ordering isn't fucking good. I can't cook right now. I won't cook" You say in a higher pitch "and you won't cook either" When he opens his mouth to speak, you roll your eyes, away from him -you just know what he's going to say- though you instantly regret it. The sight of him frozen, with bags in his hands before your door is upsetting, and begs to stir up your mind in horrid imaginations of him throwing a tantrum at you and leaving you, of him never opening up his door to you ever again. Maybe, just maybe you should have thought this through better before yelling at him. "Fuck you" He says through greeted teeth and scrunched up nose huffs "fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck" He's not a punching bag, he's the only person who's here for you and your heart won't forgive you if you lose him. Your head turns or snaps to his direction, eyes too gooey to meet his gaze properly, but you still do look at him so desperately, you're sure your heart makes a ripping sound at its very seams. And that firm dedication of his to closing himself off is evident again; in that wet anger in the corner of his eyes, seeping like magma just at the tips but never falling down on his cheeks. In his pursed lower lip -and oh, will it be so infuriating to think, you don't wanna fight, you just want him to press those lips against your forehead and forget those arguments that always arise? As he's headed for the kitchen, step after step and upper lip overlapping the bottom one to hide his irritation, his eyes are averted from you and you chase after him with counted movements; a little limp to your left leg by sitting on it for a long time bubbling up inside your bones. Unwillingly, non-eagerly. Regret and remorse for yourself are feelings that rush through you, making your tongue run faster than your mouth, making your head dizzy with guilt and drowning you of a trillion of things you want to say to him. "Katsuki" You plead with half a breath, eyebrows forming an impossible frown above your eyes "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have yelled, i-" "Fucking save it. Order if you want, I don't care" "Katsuki-" He huffs air too harshly out of his scrunched up nostrils again and shuts his eyes closed, hands resting over the groceries as he's leaning over the kitchen table. Not once in the minute he's taking from himself does he spare you a glance, but you can rather listen to him mutter a soft 'be patient' under his own breath. To himself, you realise, but your heart's too heavy as you anxiously suck your upper lip inside your mouth, wondering -will an apology fix this? It may irritate him even more, and taking the risk is probably not worthy of him getting riled up, but you go for it nonetheless, hidden away behind the stall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Your little hiding spot for the moment, a place where you can safely hide behind as you choke on your own spit, trembling at the thought of any possible outcome of your next choice of words. "I'm sorry, I'm just, I'm snappy lately" He won't respond and you notice how he's counting his breathing with eyes still shut, though, ever so slightly; that's your sign to step back, give him space and time as you make your first step to the living room. Though small glimmers of regret

springle inside your heart, landing in small needle-like jabs on every stretchy wall of the overly sensitive organ, your brain begs to be the voice of common sense, just to push you to just give him space. But what if he doesn't want space. What if he wants to be held? Like you do. What if he doesn't want to fight? "I'm sorry" You mutter under your breath, again Your step is almost crippled as you try to approach him, lost and scared at the sight of him still struggling to compose himself still. The guilt in your gut is immense and spreading like a wildfire on rotten land, but you feel like, perhaps, you -and him consequently- soothe down when your hand touches his shoulder, or, when your forehead rests easy on the crook of his neck, just after you out your weight on your toes, You can't help but repeat your previous statement. "I'm sorry, talk to me, tell me if you're good or not" He grunts, letting out a short breath in the form of a sigh. 'I'm not', you translate and your chest tightens Your right hand comes to curl around his chest over his shoulder, your left, mechanically even, cripples around his waist enough so you can press his back into your chest. "Fuck i-" You don't make a move to shush him "I feel so bad, I just. What would he have to say about me if I left his girlfriend on her own, to eat crap everyday. That's not healthy for you. I shouldn't be fucking yelling. I shouldn't-" He's so out of breath, that you consider punching some air into his lungs, with the softest CPR to have ever been performed, but the thought leaves your head immediately, your heart drowning your stomach in guilt at the imagery of your lips on his. The snap to reality after that little moment is so intense, you don't know how you handle yourself and your heart. "I shouldn't be yelling" In all your years, you've never heard him be so sincere while being so furious. When it's true that he's nothing of getting into drama or anything of sort, Katsuki is always too prideful to admit when he's made a mistake. You figure, it's unfair to still judge him as if he's his UA self, or his middle school self even. He's a different person now, having lived through so many events that could crush even the most strong willed person -and that's what he gets from admiring All Might, you think- and all he's ever done is try to be here for you. Understanding each other in such difficult times is mandatory and compromise is a foundation that you both need to work on. You find yourself opening your mouth and shutting it again for several seconds as you're trying to voice it. The dry, chapped feeling of your lips colliding makes you want to shut your eyes and wordlessly communicate your thoughts to him, but it's impossible. For your quirk isn't transmitting your thoughts to others, nor is it keeping track of one's thoughts. Everything you do to comfort him, has to be done by yourself, strictly. "Katsuki, I don't want you to-" You nuzzle your face into his back in hopes that perhaps, it muffles the intensity of your speech "I don't want you to overwork yourself for me. Izuku-" His name is whispered like words of sin or ruthless statements of atrocities, when it shouldn't "-wouldn't let me do that to you." He doesn't talk, or sigh, or even place his hand on yours and a whole minute passes like that. Or two, or three, or an eternity. The clock is ticking so loud that it's unbearable, his heartbeat muffling your ears while his scent is musking your nose. It's a funny thing, that perhaps, everything feels so warm, so comforting like this, you'd like to keep hugging him, if he allows you too. For as long as this minute's eternity can last. "Don't leave me cause I'm angry and snappy" It's so barely audible that you think he's only trying to calm himself down again, but it strikes you like a swift slash of a sword to your chest to realize the weight of his words. You thought you were the only one feeling this way. 'Don't leave me'. As if- as if it's an option that's hunting the depths of his chest, or perhaps as if your situation isn't a granted part in your lives for a little over a month. You're not one to inquire of a person in panic why they said what they said or if there's a cryptic meaning behind his very words. Because, frankly, there isn't. He's pretty clear, even while being tenderly desperate about it. And oh, you feel your heart pull and pinch at the thought of it.

"I'm not leaving" "Good" When he turns to face you, he's gripping onto your palms like it's painted out to be for dear life, a plea to not let him go as he turns his body around; you feel as if he needs you, as if, you're necessary to comfort him as well. You're too far gone in the joy that gathers in your stomach to hear him utter the words "I'm not leaving either" but you find some meaning of this statement in his embrace, when he shoves you into his chest. There's a little awkward cripple to your gaze that causes you to steal a stare outside the window or, perhaps, it's something bigger, or even the drive in your heart to hope for something more as an outcome for this. In the worst case scenario, you're pleading for forgiveness, if, by any chance, Izuku is still out there and can witness this little happening. That's when you find it, and truly, you have to catch a second glance at it to feel certain about what you just saw. Subtle little shimmers of stars, painting a large part of the sky, patiently awaiting to be noticed, in agony and tiredness that only a hero could recognize. And if you're a hero, you can feel it too, the kneeling of the legs, the flexing of the arms -it's all there- drawn by little stars of other galaxies in front of your very eyes, after searching for them for years. That's perhaps what people mean when they say, happiness is found in small things. Katsuki's arms around you, his faint breathing grazing the skin of your nape tenderly as he's calming himself down is more than enough, but the sky tonight has managed to make a compromise for the two of you, shining the diamond colors of the hercules constellation to the two of you. It's a blink and you'll miss it, no reason to break away from his arms, so you coo into his mellowy neck, speaking against his skin. "I found it, the hercules constellation" "What? Where" He's not shook at all as he speaks, and it doesn't surprise you either; there's this dazzling tranquility in the air, so much for getting you to calm down after such rage, but you'll take it over anything else, anytime. When Katsuki seems to detach his resting lips from the crook of your neck, he lays the side of his face on the very spot, inquiring again about the location of the constellation. You're more than happy to provide him with an answer. He drags you to the balcony with slow steps, a million steps away from the lights of your apartment as it seems before snapping his head towards the sky, squinting his eyes to comb through any star he could probably set his gaze on. You help him find it, not because it's before his very eyes, but because something inside you is flickering to rush you. Hurry it up. Look at the pretty stars and embrace him again, because it feels good, and you don't mind that you get mad at yourself for thinking this way. You don't even want to question your morals as thoughts of holding his hand pass through your head. Maybe a finger or two tangled in his like messy strands of hair, too hard to detangle- maybe that'd be comforting. Perfect even. Despite your best efforts to tickle his pointer finger with yours shyly, you come to realise he won't respond -you better behave, or, you should have know, but the insecurities that make you question everything are as evident as they'll ever be- you wonder if you've made him uncomfortable. But he's wrapping an arm around your shoulders, by grabbing that hand you're using to guide his gaze across the constellation and this time you can't help, but tangle all of your fingers through his, like a hair clam, fitting so perfectly, your heart cracks even more than last time. "I can pop some rice in the rice cooker and you can buy some Teriyaki" He sighs, though not once does he pry his eyes away from the stars

And that's where you feel a weight lifting off your shoulders, only to drop to your stomach; it's not a half hearted compromise, rather, it's sincere, something so eerie and far away from the usual 'take it or leave it' Katsuki Bakugo, but… you'll take it. With a broken smile and a coo into his shoulder. You turn to look at the stars as well, and Katsuki cracks a small smile now that you can't see it, because compromising actually feels good, relieving or whatever. He doesn't want to think about whether, in any sense, he's on your mind or not, he'd rather show you a piece of his own mind, a crack opening to see inside his heart -it's almost too painful that he has to be the one to calm things down. He's never been one to do so, but standing on his feet right now is mandatory. For you, him, whatever the two of you have got going on, because if not, coping won't be effective. He likes to think, you have each other in this, and that's enough for him. To keep things peaceful he has to take an occasional step back, and if that's the price to pay, he guesses he will. Izuku may be gone, he may have turned the two of you into what seems an unfixable broken mess, but at least he's left you with each other. Perhaps, he'll once appear again, in the form of new love, or a smile on your face at the sight of an old childhood photo, and things will be fine again. If only he could have been kinder, or better, or not as competitive, he wouldn't be sorry or trying to fix his own self. For now though rice and teriyaki ought to be the only problems he wants to face.

iii. bargaining | 7.30pm "What if I could have prevented this?" His voice is anything but loud, his chest too hollow, bouncing the voice of his concern around the broadness of his muscles, just to graze into your ears in soft vibrations. The statement alone makes you perk up and swoon your face away from him, hands laid flat and firm against his petrocals as you're finally fixing him with a gaze. Saturdays always bite his ass and Sundays are ever so depressing. This weekend is no less easy for the two of you. Katsuki's barely able to slur words without hissing or cursing, seeing as his jaw is bandaged up by being sliced by a villain at work today, and you've both decided that it's best if he gets to have an early night. "You'll be fine by next week, I'll help you change your bandages" He shakes his head before he buries his face behind his palms, as if trying to hide his emotions from you; you give him the right, with a worried face to match the situation "Not that, shit- no 'm taking 'bout Izuku" Oh You can't really place yourself into why but you've been having the same thoughts as of late. It's only natural, you dare say, to convince yourself not to be persistent on guilt tripping that little mellow voice in your head that tried to tell you that everything's going to be fine in the end, but it's in vain- for every time this happens you have to find a new way to occupy yourself to shove the destructive thoughts away. It's probably not right in any sense, to prompt Katsuki to ignore the problem as well, but the thudding of your heart -always matched perfectly by the raindrops that hit on the roof of the house hard enough to make you feel oh so concerned- commands you to find a new coping mechanism to add to your little pile. "I- I just-" A look in his eyes and you're lost in a trance of whether you're going to break his heart by momentarily avoiding talking. It is more than enough to convince you to voice something, anything, but every word that sparks at the back of your brain is washed by astounding waves of anxiety that have your tongue swim in the sea of your mouth. You don't come up with anything to say for as long as a moment lasts. "It's like- I should have been there! I turned down that fucking call because I was sure he could do this on his own" "Katsu" "He fucking- I fucking- I-" "Hey, stop it-" You plea "It doesn't make it any different, I know that but-" He snaps

quicker than you can imagine, prospering away from another call of his name that slips from your lips. Irises turn away from you in wrinkly eyes, furrowed brows and pursed lips. His heart is palpitating so fast, his eyes flicker in what you can read is pain, maybe, you could take some blame to yourself. Not that you have any right trace if thought to come up with comfort, or rather, not like you have it in you to let Katsuki assign this all on himself. "I could-" You start, yet your mouth is dry "I could have been there as well-" It's such an awkward miniscule moment that you share but it's enough to make your heart feel like it's breaking in regret. You're only left to wonder if your friends are feeling that way too, about Izuku's call for reinforcements that Katsuki turned down, that none of them tended to on time. "Don't put this on you" Your stomach, unable to cooperate with any plea of yours to not drown in anxiety, stirs its contents to it's desire, making you sit up; Katsuki's embrace is too void for you right now, your chest is way too hollow for you to not feel alienated. It's in moments like these that you know trying to handle yourself or your life with each other is probably a mistake, a false emotional dependency that should not exist otherwise, and you always hope he gets to prove those intrusive thoughts of yours otherwise. You're taken aback when warm hands find their way around you; it's unexpected and you flinch, but you're soothed the moment your brain processes who it is that's hugging you, bringing you back to reality and breaking your short lived dissociation. He presses his ear onto the crook of your neck, this time, not hissing at the way his wounds ache as his skin tubs on yours. He notices that certain way your breathing's working and he sighs in relief, or sorrow, for he's too scared to ever speak of what's hiding in his chest, or what's adding to him feeling so twisted and evil. "Wanna go for a ride?" He says, unexpectedly, surprising even himself by how absurd it sounds "Where to?" "Niko" He purrs and you let out a giggle "That's too far silly" "I 'on know, heard it's pretty this time of the year" You finally turn around to him, only slightly so as to not disturb his embrace and ruffle a hand through his hair, and pause just before your lips find his forehead. Somewhere deep inside of you it hurts for this to feel so casual, a loving interaction with Katsuki of all people. It feels like some sick trick of betrayal but your eyes are burning onto his skin while your world moves in slow motion. A hand on his cheek isn't as harmful as the addition of another one, yet you still go for that choice, dry lips inevitably set onto pale pink skin, pressing a soft kiss of comfort. "We could go at that spot, near UA, we used to go there a lot when we were high schoolers" Katsuki's words are calm and collected, hidden between gritted teeth so he can appear like his chest is fuller than yours, but what you don't know is that his heart is trying to beat out of his chest, like it's the most secretive, harsh prison. He briefly wonders if by knowing so, you'll hurt as much as him. But your kiss on his forehead, the warm place in which he rests face against your chest it all points to you feeling the same- it's there and he can read every single sign, whether he wants to deny them or not. "Should I get dressed?" A grunt this prolonged means yes. And truth be told the set and scenery of this small driving outlet is almost idyllic; a silent car ride, tainted faces and the gloomy watery corners of one's eyes to match the pouring rain, the slow, mellow music matching in beats with the squeaky wipers. What a perfect, diligent harmony you've got. It feels like a cut to another scene in a slow paced movie. The time is still stuck at 8.15, signifying how it wasn't long ago that you were starting to drown in a pool of bargaining -and voicing it out loud- and a part of you is still sad for thinking that maybe, for Katsuki, you're a coping mechanism. A full rembrandt of what's left of

Izuku's that he doesn't want to give up. You keep wondering if that would be the case had he still been alive. Would he ever have such an attitude stored inside of him for you had you not been dating Izuku on what now counts as ancient history? He parks his car on a narrow little road that splits the woods in half and turns the engine off. Seeing that it's November already, you think about how this is a bad idea, you know how cold he gets, and he's not wearing any jacket but you keep it to yourself. Perhaps, had Izuku been here, he would have brought an extra jacket too. For now, it's foggy windows and died down warm breaths. Thus, with a quivering lip you settle lower into your seat and sigh. "I- I know you like stargazing" He coughs, vermillion eyes pacing back and forth between you and the rain that's clashing on the car's glass "and I got an app and a window on the roof of my car" "But it's raining" "Who caaaares!" He grunts when you pout and turns away from you, something that makes your stomach coil abrasively. You want him to look at you, you want him to- As ridiculous and bitter as it sounds, you're tired of asking yourself if any of this would be happening were Izuku still here. Because he's got a stupid little fucking app on his phone for you. Because you're dying to press your lips onto his skin again. Half an hour ago feels like an eternity has passed already. He cares about you enough to open the app -and switch the location of his phone on- and that's more than enough actually. You glue your eyes to the bright screen and follow it as it pops us with a dark window, asking for confirmation that it's authorized to use the camera of Katsuki's phone. A part of you sinks in the silent death of love at the thought that, yes, he downloaded this just for you. Joy in little things, you figure, is what keeps you grounded, it's what ultimately pushes you to rest your head on his shoulder as he lifts his phone up, facing it on the small opening on the roof of his car. "Can't see past all this water, dammit" "So?" You coo, and the previous small irritation in his voice dies down with a grunt that comes from the depths of his chest. "The app's fine. Feels just like stargazing." You've never done anything similar with Izuku. And there's not even a spec of comparison clouding over your head, despite the guilt that settles in your stomach once again. Looking up to Katsuki, you can see his jaw tensing in the slightest, most probably in pain -you wonder, does his wound still ooze- and you can't help but feel like your eyes are stinging. You sniffle nonetheless. And Katsuki retreats his shoulder, letting your head hang without support as he turns to you. "Maybe, even if we can't see them, they're still there and-" You purse your lips to the side of your cheek, thinking of a reply, anything to say to make his words seem like they've come out of his mouth. "You've turned into quite the poet lately, haven't you?" Your answer should be that no, he hasn't, he's just hurt and confused, numb and afraid, but in turn you're all those things as well, or so he speculates by looking in your eyes. Because he can read people, he can read you, and as much as this has been established, he can't find it in him to speak a word on it. Then again, what's the point in holding anything in if you're going to die one day? The life of a hero is expendable, he's got his rise and fall as number one set in stone, so why should he hold back? He can't bring Izuku back even if he wants to, and he can't possibly stop himself from feeling for you. He remembers finding salvation in holding Izuku down and apologizing. He now finds humility in words that are spoken from his mouth that slip past his consciousness. "I love you- Don't care if it's fucking raining or not- Fuck" There's no time for you to think of a response before he throws a fit; his phone is slammed on the backseat, rocketing to the floor, and the click of his door is heard before he steps out of the car and slams it shut. He's lucky- the rain covers most

of the scream that he let's out and fills the buzzing void in your chest, your head. He said the words first, and your head is pulling you instinctively to your right, just where he was a few moments ago, you want to see if he's facing you, you long to feel your eyes meet his. You manage to collect the only ever courage you have left and push the thought of Izuku away from your mind, click your door open and shoot out of the car. Just like him. Like you're his echo. "Don't say a fucking word" He dismisses your open mouth, as if he can hear your breath clearer than this deafening rain, but you're not having it. "But i- i" "Shut up, as if you know-" "But I feel the same way" You whisper "What" He yells, and you scream at him to get back in the car, so you can talk, clearer. Though when he does, he's burning his eyes on your lips, then your eyes, then he never makes any move towards you, as if everyone and anything is on you. But none of you takes the bigger leap towards each -justified, because there's trembling in your movements and hesitation in your heads. And then your lips meet his. Tenderly, painfully, religiously Your first kiss is cursed by numbing ache, but it feels so right, like the warmest summer evening, or the most hazing bonfire during a cold winter night. Regret can't eat you alive for that one. And Katsuki, even with his lips still pressed against yours knows he will think about this kiss as a sin and a betrayal for far too long, he knows it'll torment him through the darkness of whatever tonight could mean. If only he gets through this night, he'll be fine Tomorrow you'll wake him up with a soft "how'd you sleep'' again and he'll be fine. The void and guilt inside his chest will get filled up with the warmness of being embraced first thing in the morning. Perhaps in time he'll convince himself that Izuku would never mind what's going on between the two of you, if you're meant to be endgame.

iv. depression | 12.07 am

Soft bubbles that smell like carnation and the auburn flicker of the fire that shines on top of a plethora of candles set the atmosphere for this evening. The lack of bright light -being that the whole city has been in a black out for several hours- is gentle to yours and Katsuki's eyes. What should have been matched with some of the artificial warmth the heater next to the bathtub, that should be providing for the two of you. Instead, it's him that keeps the temperature high.

Your muscles hurt and his wounds ache, as always, after a tiring day of hero work. You guess that's your daily nature; after hours and hours of overworking your body and soul, two people like you only get to spend the little time they have together like this. Late at night, curled up against each other, borderline sleeping in a bathtub. You're sure the water has a pinkish red tint to it -somewhere, a wound of his or yours is bleeding more that you'd like to believe is natural.

Katsuki is unbothered to check who's wounds are worse.

For the first time in a while, his mouth isn't dry, or chapped, a killer to his heart, for he can't find the right choice of words to spell to you. He should be fine with having you curled up against his chest, but somewhere along the way he finds it hard to experience the warmth he's trying to emit. And he thinks he finds your response to this unspoken mind trick when he cups your hands with his, checking at your fingers. Not a single prune or puckered line to clasp a non indifferent reaction from the back of his brain.

He's content with the way time seems to have stopped, trapping you in a moment filled with cold granite tiles and blood spoiled water that smells like lavender. In a movement he abandons your hands, watching them float over his. You hum -it's warm and welcoming, as if you're saying you're content too- and rest the back of your head to the crook of his neck.

His only reply is to nuzzle his nose into your neck as well. Placing a tiny kiss to the skin against his lips, tangling his fingers through your wet hair.

Small reassuring acts of

love with nothing special into them help you relax completely into him. "Kinda nice that you can see the stars so bright tonight" If you're looking for a cynical answer, then Katsuki's ever your man. "Of course they'd show when it's pitch black outside. What'd ya expect?" With your eyes glued to the glass ceiling for a long while you wonder, what did you expect really? Words that spiral in your brain are always spoken, leaving you numb and inquiring, searching for an answer in the deepest curves of your brain. When burning your eyes into his will never work, he decides to let his gaze melt holes in the vast of his bathroom windows. The beauty of minimalism leaves him cold and lonely, as if there's facelessness in the black veil of the sky that mimics the inside of his home. He curls into you by pressing you against his chest tighter. You never ask him why his bathroom is built the way it is -with that little corner window in the ceiling, neither does he know what he'd answer to you were you ever in a position to. He doesn't know how to apologize for being who he is, or his that window makes him feel like he used to be assured and secured on what was assigned to him by birth. (His parents’ money, a strong quirk.) He doesn't know how to apologize for still living in traits of his life that could make you feel like he's been everything but fair to Izuku. And all you probably think about, he convinces himself is that It'd be ironic to say that you mind having a view of the stars while having a midnight bath. It's a full moon tonight too -the glowing sky orb floating just above the furthest line of the horizon, illuminating the sky. And you, with your eyes shut by now and facing the glass ceiling, seem like you feel the weight of the moon pulling you in. What Katsuki knows for sure is that you have a terrible migraine that has you frowning horrendously. It's because of the fool moon, you'll say when the blond asks you why you're suffering, it always gives you migraines and he'll sit by you as you're making him his bath, holding your hand while he asks you to join him. He's nothing but a lover of roughness and void, he doesn't know how you're still with him, or how you ever fell for him. He feels slow, like a worn out tire, washed to a shore by the sea. But his hands, calloused and sculpted harshly even only by the -not so many- years of being a pro, aid to your comfort, not in his need to be a hero -more like, in his need to be human, or not feel inadequate, to not feel like his life is a pit of guilt because Izukus is over. And it has been for a long time. And his, is taking turns so abruptly that his gut churns and pleads. Two bulky thumbs run over your eyebrows, smoothing the short coarse hair and soothing the bone, swooning the sore pain away; it feels like custom made heaven, sweet and fluffy, and the water in the bathtub won't get cold, nor will his hands. You're so relaxed into him, bones turned into jelly and skin tingling at his touch. Every circle he's rubbing on your forehead is releasing tension you didn't know you had piled up. The soft splashes of water are merely inaudible when compared to his heartbeat, but you can't feel it. Not yet. It's not tense enough for him to feel like his heart is beating out of his chest. "You any better?" Cold. Brutal. Almost as if his hands belong to someone else, but that's Katsuki for you, or anyone else as a matter. You turn your head to him, wearing a tiny, worn out smile as you lean you mean into him, clashing your lips over his, bumping your nose to his cupid's bow when you're done. Katsuki, you're sure, closes his eyes in a feeling that doesn't seem pleasant and you do the most expected thing -retreat. It hurts; watching you slip away, turn your head to face the stars outside of his window, wiggle your body away from his, to collect your knees and press them against your chest. It's devastating how a small denial to a kiss can harm you in such a way. It's either his fault, or yours. Because somewhere deep inside his head he's convinced

himself he's a rebound. Someone you'll get over when you start getting better. And he's probably convinced himselfhes viewing you in this way, somehow. "You could have at least kissed me back" You whisper, shivering. The water is cold, finally, it was so nice while the warmth washed over your skin. Almost like a lie. "I-" He huffs, buries his head into his wet palms. He can't speak, for if he does, the crack in his voice, the high pitch of it, will snitch on his torment. He tries to shove it away, when he shoots his hands to your direction, trying to pull you into him again. When it doesn't work, you swear you see the corners of his eyes sparkle just a tad. It's alienating, when you've seen him cry and have numerous break downs, more times than you've seen him smile or laugh, you feel like you're foreign to the slight emotion that gathers in his eyes, now forming a pit, never spilling down the harsh lines of his cheeks. The moment a salty streak appears on his skin, you can help but wonder, what would happen if only you could stop your own tears from falling. You can't ask him to talk to you, it's more than obvious. You're deprived of any logical sentence forming mechanism in your brain, knees like jelly, arms heavy as two whole buildings in the verge of collapsing. One word of his and your heart will unleash all the ache that gathers slowly in your throat. "'M not just here cause Izuku died" There you go, not once, but seven times, feeling your heart pierce holes in your body, hanging from his every word, cursing yourself when you grasp his meaning. Wild and unleashed and raw, a plea, an inquiry. A way of masking his insecurity and it's your fault he's feeling this way. "You're not," You start, lost and perplexed "I love y-" But it does down faster than you would have wanted it. You turn your head away from him for a second. With the moon so high, and the city lights non existent, you can distinguish the Taurus constellation, just below the moon, and so very faint. Your throat is tight, your neck is sore, your voice won't come out -you wonder why astrology is right about Taurus controlling the throat- and you don't know how to make him feel good about himself. If only you can show him the constellation he'll be fine, right? Do zodiac constellations make him as excited as they make you? Or is that just a role he's taken upon himself to stick with you? His lips clash with yours, water splashing around you as he shifts, and he hugs you close to him. It's your cue, to close your eyes and move your lips in sync. Its a sullen form of desire, that dangerous one, where you get his lips to bleed from how hard you bite down onto his lip and twist and pull and clash him into you again because you can't get enough. You tell yourselves you have to live for this present, even if the past makes it unbearable. Just when your hearts feel like they'll jump out of your chests and dissolve into the lavender smelling bubbles, this time painting the water in a deep carmine, you clash your chest to his and he feels as if, he's wanted, here and now, even if the feeling won't last for long. And then it's hands that roam bruised skin, fingers than dig into softness or thick muscle, fingernails that dig into scalps painfully, until they draw blood as your teeth clash. It's passion, and only in the way your hips ghost over his, swaying in the water, as he's grunting "see, am kissing you back" and "We'll never be clean at this rate" "I'll massage your head when we're done" You breathe, pulling back for a second, as he sucks a spot on your neck, handling your back just to press your chest to his face. "Fuck, I love yo-" You shush him with your mouth on his, forehead sticking to his when a slit on your nose gets smashed when it scrunches against his cheek. He doesn't have to say it, you don't have to hurt him like this. It almost doesn't matter -the cold- when he pulls you to the edge of the bathtub and buries himself into you, you simply shiver by the way his thumb rubs your clit, thrusting your hips in rhythm to

meet his. And he bites on to your collar bones, eyes teary and heart heavy after he lets you set the pace, occasionally thrashing into your touch, his gut churning more and more as you go. It's only when he takes matters into his own hands -lifting you and pressing your back again the wall, putting out some candles I'm the process- hand on your face to shove some hair away, and legs wrapped securely around him that you both find release. Screaming in agony, crying in what could be mistaken for pain, sticking your foreheads together as your breaths tingle into one hot huff of air that travels up and way from you. You lock eyes with him, just before he lets his body collapse into the water, limbs numb and sore. "Please don't leave too." You whisper, sinking down just behind him, fetching for the shampoo bottle from behind you. He doesn't respond. Instead, he mimics you and rests his head on the crook of your neck, eyeing you backwards, pressing his lips into an upwards line. You're not sure you'll be able to get over this void soon, and you can't help but plead. Later, as you're washing through his hair, you show him the Taurus constellation and his eyes beam like a child's when he says "hey I'm a Taurus" all while tending trying to tend for the bite that he left on your shoulder. He doesn't ask to find the cancer constellation. You don't remember where to find it. The moon is too bright for you to even try.

v. acceptance | 6.59 am

The last rembrand of a star shines in a portrait of purples and oranges. The beautiful afterglow of the previous night, the first ray of sun washes its shine away, almost entirely, before a second can come. To paint the sky in blues, sprinkle the marine shade as to spoil the darkness' leftovers.

The night star, or morning star, tolerates a third, then forth ray of sunlight, and your watery eyes flicker at the scene, your head curling deeper into Katsuki's chest, humming as his hand wraps tighter around you, rubbing frantically over your skin to create some friction. It's only then that you're reminded how beautiful warmth is.

Your ear is cold -after Katsuki's doing while playing with the roots of your hair- and you tuck it under a few strands, instantly noticing the difference in temperature. Katsuki is cold as well, shivering slightly even with the blanket that's wrapped around the two of you. You can't help but wish that you were in bed, curled in a blanket cocoon, sleeping in the most sappy, eerie way.

But spending the night at the beach in early September night's has been a favorite activity of yours for the past few years. Long gone are the July nights spent in agony at the beach in Musutafu, nights that have allowed you to know Katsuki like the back of your hand. You can't take them back, replace them with memories of a happier process of getting to know him. You're not sure he wants to do that too.

He yawns slightly, squishing your head under his elbow to rub his tired eyes, breaking the loudsy inhale to chuckle at your pretend squirming. Avoiding your hair as to not hurt you while scratching the stubble hair on his cheeks -flinching slightly at it- before he moves your hair away from your ear, laughing trumphically at his doing.

"Nooo, I'm cold"

He chuckles again, running the tips of his fingers through your hair and tapping his palm over your ear. "Better now?"

"Katsu!"

You smile into his chest, trying to muffle your giggles, deciding to cook into him further.

His heart might as well burst. He thinks to himself that this is more than something he could have asked for, years of putting the effort in being with you awarding him in moments like this. Moments where he can see Venus shine faintly in the sky, feeling blessed by the planet of love as he places kisses to the top of your head.

I'm times like these, it's hard to look back and remember he used to beat himself over trying to convince himself he was drawn to you only because Izuku died. It feels like there's more behind it. Some karmic pull, some aligned stars, fates arranged in such a way that

you were meant to end up in this moment. Even if none of this is true and he's lost in superstitial bullshit, trying to explain things with something that bears no resemblance to simple logic, he figures there aren't any fresh wounds in his body. Time has flown since the last time he caught himself bathing in his own blood, but he's not reckless any more -neither are you- he doesn't go tormenting himself with wounds that will take long to heal. He can't remember times that have been tougher than this. But he's attached to the warm sand, moist still from the night's angry chill, so much that he slips one hand out of the blanket and sinks it low into the ground. It's so pleasant that he doesn't feel the ground pulling him in, or down. He's got a heart that will withstand his will to get up any time he wants to, and a pair of legs that will at his command, a chest that heaves with breaths while you're showering him with kisses. He won't get to spend an eternity like this, not even as many years as he thinks will be enough for him to enjoy this, but he's figured that there's eternity hinged in every moment, of taking care of yourself before you take care of someone else, so you don't hurt others around you. He's surprised with how much he's changed; he is aware that change is inevitable, through all the compromises that he's had to not condemn, all the soft words he's forced himself to say to you, to himself, to the point he's become softer, mellowed. Knowing he'd never forgive himself if he came to lose you to his grief. "We should get up, I'm sure Mina and Ochaco will be freaking at this point." He chuckles, hiding his tongue in the back of his mouth, as if to fish for a reply. "Kirishima and Denki will-" "Let the fuckers do as they wish, it's my wedding day, I decide when I show up. I can't with this enthusiasm" "Oh my god" You fake gasp, clapping your mouth "this is it? You're not going to marry me? You've lost your spark? Oh me. Oh my, whatever do I do?" You laugh, feeling the vibrations of his chest as he's laughing too, ruffling your hair in the messiest way he can imagine "There, now your hair is unfixable and I get to say it's you who left me at the altar" You burst out in giggles as you're trying to get up -efforts wasted in vain, because he's pulling you back onto him, for a kiss, one that makes your lips feel like cotton candy that slowly melts away, fuzzily yet so watery and with such delicacy. He gets up soon after you, folding the blanket neatly -too neatly- only pausing to take in the moment. Blue blotch after blue blotch is flooding the sky, almost every hint of purple gone, giving in to that warm tangerine light of the early sun. Katsuki sighs and you link your arms around his elbow. Content, happy. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't much of those himself. There's nothing holding him back. And so, he guesses, this is goodbye. The official one. Not melded with an apology, not fueled by regret. It's a silky woven letting go. There are no tears left for him to shed, there's no more trembling to violently shake your body awake at night. There's nothing but good in the memory of Izuku. Not even the subtle wish for him to be here, and happy with you. As the bright, starry light of Venus is outshone by the sun, he places another kid to the top of your head. "I'll see you at 5" "I'm going to be fashionably late" You argue, turning around to wield your hands around his neck and almost linking your lips to his. "Don't you fucking dare" He kisses you "Or what? You'll blow everyone to pieces?" He kisses you again, then again, then once more. "Might as well" And that's Katsuki for you, even in the calmer, softer version of himself. The personification of the twilight hours, even if he's going to bed at 10pm, wiggling his feet under the covers until you join him. He's the only reason you're still sane and you won't ever lose him. He won't lose you, in return.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha #bakugou #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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thera-daydreams · 3 years ago

Text

INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

#trese #trese netflix #trese 2021 #crispin #basilio #maliksi #dominic #x reader #kambal x reader #crispin x reader #basilio x reader #maliksi x reader #dominic x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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honklore · 4 years ago

Text

invisible string | dreamwastaken

(requested plot by red string of fate soulmate au, dream is still a streamer, reader has commitment issues, dream just wants someone to love, chat is the best wingman, sapnap and george try but they suck, reader is timid but dream makes them feel brave, taylor swift references, this is not very deep or poetic at all, i don’t like typing y/n so after this i’m going to move to ___)

listen to: invisible string by taylor swift

In kindergarten, red strings were simply a crafting tool, and teachers never mentioned how much pain they would eventually bring.

Because when they appear, from a child’s eighteenth birthday and beyond, they tighten like a godforsaken high school ring that came in one size too small. Like the universe is a child tugging their mother towards the ice cream truck, you’re pulled around central Florida, passes faces you can’t memorize and voices too garbled to hear.

The string knows where you need to go, and when.

And you’re at the park, feeding ducks and trying to ignore that incessant pull that tugs at your pinky, when you hear it.

It’s a voice you know only because it’s a voice that’s been in your house before. At least, through your brother’s tablet screen. Some gamer online — a streamer, with a distinct wheezing laugh that you’d recognize anywhere.

And you do. Behind you.

You risk a small peak, and your heart drops into your chest. He’s tall. Too tall to not intimidate you. And his sandy hair is wavy, curling at the collar of his sweatshirt, falling perfectly into place when he runs his hands through it. When he does, you see it, the red string.

Which means he could see it too. All he’d have to do is turn around.

But you’re not ready. You haven’t been, not since you watched your cousin get rejected on her eighteenth birthday. Since you watched a string of fate get clipped in front of you, like the three fates had finally had enough of your cousin’s happiness.

It was enough to make you curl into yourself, and reject the natural pull set before you. So you run, and you try not to think of what would’ve happened if he saw you before you saw him. You try not to feel the clippers, but the blade feels tangible against your skin.

You don’t stop running until you arrive home.

“Hey chat, just wanted to do a few practice runs and catch up with you guys,” Dream mumbles into the mic, already restarting his game after deciding he didn’t like his seed. The donos begin rolling in, even before Sapnap and George have unmuted, so Dream flits his eyes to the display screen, subconsciously reading along with the text-to-speech voice, “Dream, what if we shared a string of fate? Ahaha, just kidding... unless... love you bestie.”

Dream chuckles, “Actually chat, I felt a tug today! Isn’t that weird? I was actually reading up on what that could mean, and it seems like either my soulmate is in a lot of distress, or they were in my vicinity. I’m hoping, for their sake, it’s the second one. How would you even comfort a soulmate if all you can do is tug on a stupid string?”

“Simp!” George finally unmutes just to be annoying, and Dream knows soulmates are a touchy spot for him, considering he wasn’t given a string on his eighteenth. Which is strange, but not impossible. Of course, chat doesn’t know this, because it would give them more hope of becoming George’s metaphorical soulmate, but it certainly makes for awkward conversations once Dream and Sapnap get into their own soulmate bonds.

“I’m not simping, George!” Dream feels a bit defensive, because he’s genuinely just curious. He has no interest in meeting his soulmate right now. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has his streams, and his friends, and chat. He’s fine.

[abbywastaken donated $10: dream why don’t you go back to where you felt the pull and see if you feel it again? that’s how i found my soulmate. okay luv u bye.]

“Thanks, Abby. Love you, too. Um, honestly I was in a pretty public place, so I don’t know if they would even come back anytime soon. Also, this is Orlando, right? Tourists are everywhere.”

Sapnap snorts, and Dream thinks it’s funny, since he’s in the other room. “Just say you’re a coward and go.”

“I’m not!” Dream says. “It was just a small pull, okay? It wasn’t even a big deal.”

He feels another lurch when he says that, but this one is in his chest. It taps against his heart, a quick reminder that it beats for someone else, and he needs to watch his words. “Okay, it was a big deal. Sort of. I’ll go tomorrow, okay chat?”

Chat is spamming all types of messages, from encouragement to jealousy. Dream manages to read off a few donos and create his first nether portal of the stream. He answers as they appear, eyes scanning for a fortress. “No, I didn’t see them… I’m not telling you guys where I was, that’s weird… I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans… Hi, Sarah and Patrick…”

He trails off as the donos do, and works at getting blaze rods. George is talking about a riddle he just learned, and he’s trying to trick Sapnap into saying something stupid.

Lost in his own thoughts, he finally closes the stream after a hasty goodbye. “What if I missed my chance?” He asks the two boys on the other line.

“It’s a string of fate, Dream,” George says. “You didn’t miss your chance.”

“Maybe they saw how ugly you are and ran away,” Sapnap says, completely joking, but the thought lingers in Dream’s head.

Did they feel the tug, and run away?

You pour cereal for yourself, and when your brother shuffles into the kitchen, you make him a bowl as well.

He’s eleven, and as little brothers go, he’s pretty chill. Aside from the inappropriate jokes and hogging the bathroom when you have to get ready for work, you like hanging around with him.

You pass him his bowl, and he grins. “I’m gonna watch Dream’s new video on the TV, since mom’s not home.”

You furrow your brows. Dream must be one of the dozens of streamers he likes. Maybe one of his friends will be in chat with him, and you will be able to connect a voice to a face. “Can I sit with you?”

He gives you an odd look, and it’s true, you don’t ask to watch videos with him often. “I guess.”

You eat a spoonful of cereal and settle into the couch while he gets everything ready. He clicks on a lime green icon of a little white blob man, and when the first video appears, you’re taken aback by the voice.

That’s the voice you heard. It’s this one, out of all the random men yelling about a block game. It’s Dream.

“Why doesn’t he show his face?” You manage, wanting information about the person that shares your string.

“What?”

“Like, he’s handsome, right? Why doesn’t he have a facecam?”

Your brother snorts. “Handsome? He’s never shown his face, Y/n. Don’t you know who Dream is? He’s like, super famous.”

“Oh.” You think of his golden hair, as sunny and soft as the glow around his entire being. His voice right now, joyous as he gets chased by his friends. “I mean, I don’t keep up with streamers.”

He begins to explain Dream and his friends, along with lore in their role play server, and it’s all interesting enough that you sit and listen, holding on to the little bits of information you can collect about your soulmate.

You file these facts in a secluded corner of your brain and try to make a whole person, along with the hair and the laugh and the intense music he plays as he gets hunted by his friends.

By nightfall, you’re following all of his socials and binge-watching his old streams, holding on to the way he speaks to his friends, and the fond way he replies to donos.

[dreamwastaken is live!]

You click on it, bundled underneath your covers as if someone might see you and find out your secret.

“Hi, chat! I know I was just live yesterday, but I cut it too short and wanted to come talk to you guys.”

He uses his avatar to wave at the screen, and it’s kind of an adorable sight.

[gogysimp donated $25: did you go see your soulmate?]

Your heart stops. Does he know? Did he see you? Or even worse, has he already found someone else, and he just hasn’t severed the tie?

“No!” Dream’s laugh pulls you out of your worries. “I was busy with meetings today, actually. And I was too nervous. Sapnap also refused to come with me, so I’m just going to go another day.”

So he didn’t see you. He just knows you were there.

You click the donate tab before you can stop yourself.

[y/n donated $1: would you reject your soulmate if you didn’t like them?]

Dream mumbles the question, and you try to ignore the way your heart deflates when he skips saying your name. “I don’t think so,” he states plainly. “I mean, logically, a soulmate would be your other half, so I wouldn’t not like them. But I know some people just don’t click, or there are other issues. So, I don’t know. I guess the only thing I can say is that I don’t want to reject them. And I hope they don’t reject me. I mean, imagine finding out your soulmate is a Minecraft Youtuber. That would be pretty weird…”

You giggle to yourself as he trails off and answers another donation. So he’s against rejection. Okay. Maybe you have a chance.

[kyra donated $60: i’m your soulmate.]

“Meet me where you felt the tug, then,” Dream says sassily. “Chat, don’t be weird, okay? I can’t control who my soulmate is, and I don’t want you guys to exclude them if they become a pat of my life.”

Oh, you think. So his chat is vocal about their opinions, and apparently they mean a lot to him. You shiver despite your warm position and imagine how annoying you might seem to his loyal viewers: someone who only knew about him because of their brother.

Insecurity pushes against your chest, so you close the stream and push your phone away, hoping to forget this ever happened, that maybe you won’t have to deal with the inevitable if you don’t think about it.

Yogurt Barn isn’t the first place on your list of dream jobs, but it has decent pay and helps you pay off student loans, so you appreciate it nonetheless. The teal sweatshirt they gave you as a uniform keeps you warm as you scoop the frozen treats.

Your coworker, a girl named Madison, is busy manning the counter, so you check each flavor and refill the ones running empty.

“Can I ask you a question?” Madison met her soulmate, Anna, only days after she got her string. It was a textbook romance, two people meant for each other, no doubt in anyone’s mind. She might be able to help you now. That is, if you can even admit to who your soulmate is.

“What’s up?”

“I felt the tug,” you say, avoiding her eyes in favor of restacking the medium cups.

“No way!” Madison is perky in a way that makes you want to be included. You like this about her. “Did you see them? Did you talk to them?”

“He—” You want to say that the part of him you saw was perfect, enough to keep you up when you should be dreaming. But reality is nothing if not disappointing. “I ran.”

“Y/n…” Madison gives you a stern look — like a mother finding out their child didn’t defrost the chicken in time. “Why would you run?”

“I don’t want to be rejected.” The magenta swirls painted onto the walls are a stark change to the clay sidewalks of the strip mall. “And before you say he wouldn’t… It’s happened to my cousin. It’s possible.”

Madison frowns. “But that can’t be the only reason, right? I mean, we all know someone who has been rejected. It’s usually not the end of the world for them.”

“He’s a famous streamer,” you blurt, and you’re thankful the shop is as empty as it is. Just the words themselves sound fake.

Madison snorts. “Like, gaming? That’s what’s holding you back? He’s a gamer?”

“I don’t care that he’s a gamer!” You hiss. “I care that he has a loyal fanbase who more than likely all want to be his soulmate!”

“You can’t say that for certain,” Madison says. “I mean, everyone knows about the soulmate system. If you watch someone and don’t feel the pull, you know they aren’t your soulmate, right? So why wouldn’t they accept you?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I’m just scared. I mean, he’s got this huge following and everything and I’m just me. I work in a yogurt shop for goodness’ sake.”

You head into the back to grab more cups, and the bell rings, signaling a new customer.

“Welcome to Yogurt Barn, what can I get for you?” Madison’s customer service voice pricks your ears.

You sift through the boxes to find the smaller cups and listen to the customer’s order. “Can I have a strawberry cone?”

Your string pulls, that same familiar voice filling your head, not on the screen but once again just a few feet away. He’s infiltrating your life, so close you could reach out and touch him, but it’s such a terrifying thought that you set down the cups.

You tear off your apron, and run into the break room to grab a water and calm yourself down.

It’s ten minutes before Madison comes back to find you. “Hey, are you okay? You disappeared.”

You take a deep breath and stare at the poster on the wall. It’s brightly colored, with a walking yogurt cup waving and reminding employees to wash their hands before scooping. “That was him. The guy— the pull— Dream— I can’t— Does he know? Is he following me?”

“It’s okay,” Madison runs her hand down your back. “It’s okay. He isn’t following you. When the pull starts it tends to draw the couple together until they meet. He probably doesn’t know it’s you.”

You nod and take your breaths in gulps. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you go home early, okay?”

Dream is live again.

Fresh out of the shower, you pull a t-shirt over your body and burrow into your blankets. Earbuds in, you try to focus on the sound of his voice, ignoring every ounce of anxiety that’s been riddling your mind.

“Hi, chat. I’m gonna practice speed runs again. I think George is joining soon.”

You open the chat and scroll through the emotes, clicking the ones you like and sending them, just to calm yourself down.

[kylo donated $5: did you find your soulmate?]

Dream laughs. The sound makes your chest tighten with longing. Your fingers ache. “Actually, I went to the place I felt the pull again. I dunno what I was expecting, but they didn’t show up. But after that, I was running some errands and I felt it, chat! I felt the pull again.”

He trails off while his character starts to look for a lava pool. “I feel discouraged but I don’t want to like, chase them, you know? I don’t want to scare them off.”

You click the donation tab again.

[y/n donated $1: maybe your soulmate heard your voice and got scared of you because they watch your videos.]

It’s not the total truth, but it might help him sleep better. You don’t want him to feel discouraged, but you can’t bring yourself to follow the pull.

“That could be a possibility…” Dream crafts a portal and sends his character through. “But I wish I could talk to them. I wish I could tell them that it’s okay. Like, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

[y/n donated $1: They probably wish they could talk to you too]

“Thanks, Y/n.” He sucks in a breath as soon as he says your name. The Minecraft pause screen appears and the sound of a discord call can be heard.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Something about him saying your name just solidified everything. Your arms feel hot and cold all at once, like you’ve just been thrown in a frozen lake. He has to be feeling it too.

“Chat, I gotta go, okay? I’ll try to stream again soon.”

“Hello?” A sleepy voice comes in through Dream’s earbuds.

“George! Their name is Y/n!” Dream is so excited, his voice raising a few octaves as he talks. “Someone donated with that name and I felt like, super weird. I didn’t feel it until I said the name out loud.”

“That’s crazy,” George says, monotone but supportive. “Do you think the dono is actually them?”

“I don’t know,” Dream scrolls through their past donos and quickly screenshots each one. “I mean, they definitely could be.”

He shares the pictures in their group chat.

George hums. “It sounds like they’re trying to tell you how they feel without admitting that it’s them. Where did you say you felt a pull?”

“At the park, and at the yogurt shop down the road.”

“So go there again. Maybe all they need is a little courage. If you feel the pull this time, you should follow it.”

Dream thinks about it for a moment before finally agreeing. He changes the subject to their next jackbox stream, and George is now happily talking about how they’re going to team up against Sapnap.

He goes into Sapnap’s room that night. He sits on his desk chair while Sapnap sits cross legged on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Do you wanna get frozen yogurt tomorrow? My treat.”

“Hell yeah!”

The new strawberry-lemonade custard is a hit. Not only are the colors aesthetically pleasing for the teenagers who want a nice snapchat story, but there was a promotional coupon in the mail that has people lining up to the door.

“It’s not even that good,” you tell Madison while the two of you are on break. You’re both using a sample spoon to try out the new summer flavors, and in your opinion, strawberry-lemonade isn’t even the best one. “Blood orange is better.”

Madison wrinkles her nose. “No, blue raspberry is best.”

“It’s sour, though,” you say.

“Guys! Break’s over and you’ve got a line!” Your manager stares disapprovingly at the cups of custard the both of you are indulging in.

“We’re coming.” You toss the cup into the trash and walk out, scratching at the sudden itch on your pinky finger.

Pulling on your gloves, you grab a scoop and address the first customer, “Welcome to Yogurt Barn.”

“Hi!”

You still like you’ve been caught stealing on camera. You look up, hand clutching the scoop so tightly you can feel the cold steel through your gloves.

It’s Dream.

It’s him. He’s tall, and his hair is a sunshine blond, dark at the roots and curling beneath his ears. And his freckles… little spots all across his cheeks so endearing that you get a little distracted staring at them.

Then he’s talking, and you have to focus on his jade-green eyes, not his lips, which are a warm pink. “It’s you.”

You blink. Fear strikes your spine and you drop the scoop. “I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Dream calls, just as Madison shouts your name.

You exit out the back door again. Your heart is pounding against your chest, ribs expanding, and all you can hear is the sound of your name coming out of his lips, just last night through a screen.

“Y/n?” Only it’s in front of you, a few feet away, and he’s searching your eyes for any reassurance that you won’t run away again. That you won’t reject him. “That’s your name right?” He keeps talking, a nervous smile flitting across his face. “The donos? That was you?”

You can see the string now, red and blaring, tightening with each step Dream takes. It’s signing off your fate, for better or for worse, and you can’t fathom why he’s trying so hard, why he cares so much.

It’s hot in Florida but you feel cold, chilled to the bone. You straighten up. You figure you owe it to him to look up in the eye.

He leaves you breathless, eyes shining in the sun. “It was me,” you say. “You’re Dream.”

“Clay, actually,” he says. His smile widens, and it’s magnificently bold. He’s triumphant, just from your reply, and that alone gives you the slightest bit of hope.

“Clay,” you say. “I’m— I’m not— I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to be.” Clay is quick to reply, hands open and palms up. It’s a complete surrender — putting it all in your hands. “We don’t have to announce it. We don’t have to be anything at all, if you need time. But I would like to be your friend. If— If that’s okay.”

But you want to be close to him. The draw of your strings pulling each other closer and closer makes you want to wrap your arms around him. If he hasn’t rejected you, maybe you can do this. “I– I want to be more than friends, but I’m terrified of you rejecting me. I’m afraid of the string getting cut.”

Clay set his brows, “I won’t let that happen. We’re connected. Fate, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and it’s a sigh of relief. “Okay. Maybe I’ll give you my number?”

“I’ll give you mine!” Clay is animated, holding out his hand for your phone. “That way you can text me when you’re ready.”

The red string shines like gold in the Florida sun, and when your fingertips brush, it burns with a satisfying warmth.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt au #dreamwastaken au #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff

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echos-newlegs · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! Can I please get wolffe with 1 and 4 smut please!!!! Thank you!!!!! 🥰

Playing Around

😏 heck yeah you can- but I apologize if it’s bad. It’s nearly 1am, I’ve never written anything for Wolffe before and I started writing another story halfway through the smut??? So if you get lost, I really do apologize. I think I fixed it though. I had to reread it a good three times lmao.

A small PSA to the others who requested, I see em all and I will get to them when I can. I start a job on Thursday so stories may be a teensy bit delayed from my posting at least once a day ordeal!

Wolffe x Reader: “It’s okay, just pretend to be my date until they leave,” and “your hair is so soft...”

Warnings: Sexual content, language, female receiving, protected sex because it is frowned upon using kids as distractions during war.

You sat at the bar with Wolffe and his brothers. 79’s was slowly starting to get more crowded. You wouldn’t really mind if the moment Wolffe walked off someone hadn’t stole his spot at the bar next to you and began hitting on you. “What’s a pretty gal like yourself doing in a joint like this?” He wasn’t a clone, but even if he was one. You still wouldn’t be amused.

You were a Jedi. Trained by General Plo Koon himself. Which was how you were so close with Wolffe— yet it still took everything in you not to knock the guy next to you off the bar stool and walk out. “I’m here with some friends.” You told him, truthfully. The man snorted, and you frowned. “Where are they then?” You motioned your head to Boost and Sinker, catching a glimpse of Wolffe heading back your way. Eyes locked on the intruder in his seat.

“And him,” you spoke. Pointing off towards the commander with a small smile and a wave. The guy turned. Flashing a glare to Wolffe then looking back to you with a dopey smile. “Well, doll, if you want to hang out with a real man..” you glared. You couldn’t stand random people giving you pet names. “I’m just over there,” he pointed to a table with a few other guys. Who all looked away when you looked over.

Wolffe finally made his way over and stood next to you. Practically towering over the man. Eyes still locked on him with a look that could kill. “Is he bothering you, Cyar’ika?” He asked, then glancing to you. Gaze softening for a second. Before hardening once he looked back to the other. “Who’s this, your boyfriend?” The guy snorted, and you grabbed your drink, taking a sip to try and calm yourself down. “I’m whatever she wants me to be, now get out of my seat.” Wolffe growled, and you glanced over to him. Brows a bit raised. Smirking behind your glass and the man cowered away.

Wolffe sat next to you with a sigh, and you leaned over. Pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Wolffy.” You teased. You were the only one that was really allowed to call him that without him getting pissy. “Anything for you, general.” You snickered, watching as his face heated up a bit. It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed his cheek before, but he always acted so nervous. Even if he knew you just meant it in a friendly manor, or so he thought.

“Wolffe, don’t call me General when we aren’t on the field. I don’t like it when you call me that. Makes things feel, too formal.” You told him, and he nodded. Sighing, and glancing over to you with a small smile. “Yes, y/n.” “Better.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, watching him with a grin. Wolffe looking back to you with furrowed brows. “What?” “So you’re my boyfriend, hm?” You giggled as you watched his eyes narrow on you, then widen in realization. “I was just trying to get him to leave, I didn’t mean-“ you interrupted him by raising your fingers to his lips. “Wolffe, it’s fine.” You spoke with a small smile. “I really do appreciate it, if it weren’t for you they’d probably be waiting for me outside for when I left.” Wolffe looked back to the men at the table. Then moved his attention back to you. “Well..” he started in, “if it’s okay, just pretend to be my date until they leave?” He spoke, and you were the one to shyly look away now. “I’d appreciate that.”

You had to remind yourself throughout the night that you two weren’t actually on a date. You were just being friends. You’ve known one another since General Plo got Wolffe in his Battalion. It was nothing new for the two of you to hang out outside of work, but you wished it was more than just in a friendly manor.

You sighed, the guys had left a while ago, yet you still felt on edge. Turning to Wolffe, you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Since he was talking to one of his brothers. You could tell he was frustrated by the way his shoulders tensed when you touched him. He quickly relaxed though once he realized it was you. “I think I’m gunna head,” you spoke, and he turned around fully to face you. “Oh okay, you want me to walk with you back to your quarters?” He asked, and you nodded. “If you could, please?” He smiled, you were one of the few that were able to make him smile by just offering softly spoken words. “Plus since you’re my date, it’s the right thing to do.” You shot the tease at him. Snickering at his signature eye roll.

You jumped from the stool, landing on your feet. The two of you, well mainly yourself. Said your goodbyes to the others left in the cantina. Then off the two of you went. Wolffe holding the door open for you, and following you out.

The two of you walked down the street a ways until you could find a cab to wave down. Climbing in and heading back for the hanger. The ride wasn’t really too long, though it was quiet. You were thinking of what you could say to him. What you could do to maybe tell him that you wanted to go on a real date sometime, but before you could. The cab was stopped and you had reached your destination. Wolffe paying the fee and the two of you climbing out and heading back for your quarters,.

You walked the halls in silence, as usual. Though you really didn’t hate it. You weren’t too fond of silence when you had so much to say all at once. “Thank you again, for tonight.” You spoke the first thing that came to mind. Once the two of you reached the door to your room. He gave you a bit of a grunt, and nodded. “ ‘f course.” He spoke, hands resting at his side. You reaching over and grabbed his one hand. Both of you watching your movement closely. “I mean it.” You spoke, the two of you catching one another’s gaze. “For a fake date, I enjoyed every second of it.”

Wolffe was practically staring into your soul at this point. You squeezing his hand, and then relaxing your fingers in attempt to let go. Thinking you upset him, but he had a firm grip on your hand. You weren’t complaining though. “I enjoyed it too,” he murmured and you bit your lip. Glancing to the side, then back to the commander. “Did you wanna come inside?” You nearly whispered, and he nodded slowly. You opening the door to your room. Then pulling the male in behind you.

He paused for a moment, and so did you. You both back in the same position you were in in the hallway. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, and your breath caught in your throat. “Yes,” you said, nodding your head along with your words. Freezing up when his calloused hand reached up to cup your face and stroke your cheek with his thumb. Leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever. You’d dropped hints, kissed his cheek, hugged him, held his hand, everything that you thought he would notice. Since he wasn’t the best with understanding flirting. It flew over his head half the time anyways.

He pulled back after a moment. His fingers moving to trace your jaw. Whimpering a bit and your eyes fluttered open. Just in time to see a switch flip in his eyes. He pressed you up against the wall. Kissing you again, though this time it was rougher than the last. You yelping into it when your back pressed against the surface. Arms moving to wrap around his neck. Moaning into his mouth when he shoved a leg in between yours and up against your warmth.

He took this to his advantage, shoving his tongue into your mouth and the two of you battled for victory. Though it was stupid of you to even try. He was winning from the beginning, and soon his tongue was roaming every inch of your mouth.

You brought your legs up to wrap around his waist. Hands moving to undo his upper armor and he helped you out. His top half now left in his blacks. As his armor fell to the floor with a clank. Now it was your turn. Wolffe pulling the little armor you wore off, and the two of you were ripping each other’s shirts off like that was your jobs.

His mouth traveled to your neck in nearly an instant. While your hands roamed his exposed chest.. Moaning when he sucked and bit down on your skin. Thankful he was leaving most of the bigger marks where you could cover them. You’d have a lot to explain to the council if they found out you were sleeping with the commander you were occasionally the general of. When Plo needed the help or was off doing something else.

You ran your fingers through his hair. Tugging a bit when he moved down to your breast. One hand squeezing while his mouth sucked. Making you squirm, especially when his mouth swapped over to the other and your ignored one was left with cooling saliva.

It wasn’t long before he was peeling you from the wall and slamming his lips back against yours while walking you to your bed. He placed you down, parting from you for a second so he could remove the rest of his armor. Which he did effortlessly. You doing the same, slipping your pants off as he did as well. The two of you left in nothing but your underwear now. Eyeing one another like you were starving and each other’s bodies were the only thing that could feed you both.

He climbed back over top of you. Eyes roaming your skin, then moving back to your face with a lust filled gave. Though he had a look of admiration as well. “We can stop, whenever you want,” he assured you, and you nodded. You knew he wouldn’t force you into anything you didn’t want, but the words were still so sweet to you. Reaching up to hold his face with your hands, and pull him down for a short kiss. Pulling back and he was chasing your lips for more. “I can assure you I’ve wanted this for longer than I’d like to admit.” You spoke, and he smirked. “Good to know I’m not alone.” He nearly growled. Beginning to trail kisses down your body once more.

You were squirming so bad. Needing some sort of friction and attention. Basically shaking as he licking and bit your skin. Panting like a dog in heat when he moved to your thighs. Now pinching along your sensitive skin. “Wolffe, Kriff, please,” you mewled. The commander smirking as he moved his fingers to lightly trace over your underwear. “Please what?” You were going to get him back for this, but right now you couldn’t think clearly. “Please touch me,” you huffed, and he listened.

He pulled your panties down your thighs, bringing his face even closer to your entrance. Arching your back when he blew against you. You were already so sensitive and you needed some form of release. Wolffe moving his fingers to rub against your folds and then up to your clit. Flicking his tongue out to imitate the same movement his finger did. Which had you unwinding. Hands moving to tangle in his short locks while your legs wrapped around his head.

He continued licking you and sucking, like you were all he wanted to eat. Fingers pushing in and out in an upbeat tempo. Your body beginning to shake as your climax started nearing, “oh Kriff, Wolffe.” You gasped, and he could tell you were close just from the shake of your voice. Pulling back and you let out a whimper. Looking up to him with a pout, and he grinned as he kneeled between your legs. “I’m not done yet,” he assured. The gruffness of his voice making you shudder.

He pulled his boxers off, and readjusted himself between you. You eyeing him for a moment, and watching as he held something between his fingers. Then slipped it over his dick. You weren’t sure how he was keeping a condom hidden, but you weren’t about to ask. You were just thankful he wasn’t about to unintentionally knock you up.

“Did you have this idea all along, or were you planning on taking someone else home.” He chuckled at that. Leaning down to kiss your cheek and press the head of himself against your entrance, making you squirm again. “I’ve had this idea for a while, but never had the chance to act upon it til now.” He murmured against your skin. Kissing your temple, then down your face to your lips as he pressed inside you. Your arms and legs moving to wrap around his body.

He was a lot to take in all at once, thankful he moved in slowly. Thankful for the kisses and sweet nothings he used to help distract you. Once you were finally ready though, you moved your hips up a bit. Nearly melting at the feeling of pleasure that coursed your body. Wolffe obviously feeling the same by the grunt and the way his nose scrunched.

His one hand held onto your hip while the other was pressed beside your head on the bed. Rocking his hips while your finger tips pressed into his back. Eyes locked on one another. Giving him a nod and he picked up the pace. The sound of skin on skin and your guys’ short and ecstatic breath filling the room. Both your eyes falling shut as your both neared the end. “Kriff-“ Wolffe grunted, and you leaned up to burry your face in the crook of his neck while his thrusts quickened. Getting sloppier and more uneven as he chased his orgasm and pushed you to your own.

You let out a small cry, muffled by the skin of his neck as you reached your limit. Your walls clenching around him was enough for him to topple over as well, letting out a cry of his own. Riding out his orgasm with a few more sloppy thrusts, before pulling out of you and rolling off of you with a groan. The two of you laying on your backs panting. Trying to live out your highs. Once Wolffe was down from his he moved to remove the condom, tying it and tossing it in the bin next to the bed. Then climbing back next to you in bed.

He lied on his side, facing you. Unsure if he should touch you or not. Both your chests still heaving and sweat was beading on your forehead still. “You just gunna.. stare at me?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, smiling tiredly as a small lop sided smile crept onto his own face. “Wasn’t sure what else to do,” “you can hold me, for a start.” You didn’t have to tell him twice.

His arms reaching out and pulling you close to his body. You pulling the covers over the both of you, since the cold was slowly staring to creep up on you. Humming a bit when his hands repay through your hair. “Your hair is so soft,” he muttered. Making you smile, kissing a few of his scars on his chest while you cured up next to him. “Maybe I’ll let you use my conditioner in the morning,” and you did. He loved it, too. Because each time he caught a whiff of the shampoo and conditioner out on the field, all he could think of was you. Which was enough to keep the commander fighting, for you.

#commander Wolffe #commander Wolffe x reader #Wolffe #Wolffe x reader #lemon #star wars #star wars writing #the clone wars #writing #clone wars x reader #clone wars #the clone wars x reader

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astrolopop · 3 years ago

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❤️ Why Pick a Card Readings aren't always a good idea ❤️

💖 DISCLAIMERS 💖

💖 First of all, I mean no hate to those who make pick a card readings or are otherwise running a spiritual buissness.

💖 The industry and hobby are no less valid, they can be very helpful to people at the right time and take a lot of time, energy, paitence and knowledge.

💖 I don't claim to be right or an expert on anything - this is just my own perspective. I'm not a mental health expert or an expert on spiritual matters.

❤️ WHY ❤️

❤️ It's likely best to be in a balanced mental and emotional state for these readings. The rule of taking what resonates and leaving the rest is very important. Readers tend to be really good at reminding us of this.

❤️ However, as humans, our emotional literacy and awareness can be built across our lifes. We may not always be fully aware that we aren't actually in the space for a reading.

❤️ This can in turn create fear, anxiety, paranoia and other negitive feelings if not so positive things come up. What you feel about what you're told can also impact you differently in the long run than at the time you do it. The reading could impact your mental wellbeing, confidence and behavior. Again, this could become clear in retrospect or right away.

❤️ If you tend to fixate on things, people or aspects of your life (work, hobbies, relationships) readings could potentially feed your fixation. There are hundreds of videos online, free and avalible at anytime. It can overwhelm the mind.

❤️Signs and synchronicitys can be exciting to see and can bring us hope and reassurance but we may start to look for meaning in everything all the time, reading into everything.

❤️ There is a potential of readings making you feel more out of touch with your inner voice and opinions. Being decisive and thinking for ourselves is important to help us build confidence. Readings allow us to seek reassurance often. Instead of thinking about how we feel, what we think we should do, we look outward to something more general, outside ourselves, esoteric and even cryptic at times and not totally personalised to us.

❤️ We kind of give our consent in a way, we give someone permission to read for us and give suggestions. We don't have control over what's said or what comes up so we may not be fully prepared or actually want to hear. This is not to blame the reader as they are just doing their job but there is an element of unpredictability with cards. Tik tok feels the most nonconsensual to me because random readings just start to play. As humans we automatically assign meaning to things we see but that can be dangerous depdning what it is. The upside is that if we learn we don't want random readings we can reteach the algorithm to not show us as much of that.

🎊 POSITIVES 🎊

🎊 Because its not really fair just to be wholly negitive I do need to state some positive things about pick a cards.

🎊 They may give us a sense of community, we may feel less alone and can bond socially.

🎊 They can be fun and uplifting!

🎊 Could help you explore and connect to your intuition, if you truly are in the best mind frame and able to discern well what is relevant to you and what is not.

🎊 Could offer new suggestions and possibilities for you, opening your mind. Both spiritually and what you do in your earthly day to day life.

📝 WHAT TO DO INSTEAD 📝

📝 So if you aren't too fond of pick a cards here are some alternative suggestions.

📝 Do your own cards, or do it with a freind or live with a trusted professional so you can have a dialogue about it. It is more personal too you which may be better. Bear in mind that this option is the most similar to pick a cards. Do not to place too much weight in it but use it as a reflective tool to positively help yourself or your freinds.

📝 Meditate.

📝 Do grounding activities.

📝 Journal. Freestyle, ask yourself what you would ask the cards, ask why you have these questions, list positive things.

📝 Other non-divination based positive witchy stuff.

📝 Do something else. A hobby or intrest, art, music, a sport, exercise, reading or TV or games. Ether something fun, chill, energetic or mentally challanging depending on your needs.

📝 Talk to a trusted person or to yourself, not using divination.

🌼 CLOSING THOUGHTS 🌼

🌼 Promise me to be kind and take care of yourself! Be mindful about what's best for you.

🌼 If something is not good for you, take a step back and make changes. This may mean doing less pick a cards, being selective and only listening to readers that are best for you or completely phasing this style of content out of your life long term or on a certain platform.

🌼 I'd also say if you don't want to know about love, freindship or work, something spesific, avoid those readings. At the same time be aware that they may come up in a reading about something different anyway so it may be better to just not do a pick a card at all.

🌼 All of these options are fine! Do what you need to do!

🌼 Remember, tarot can be really fun and while it can be constructive, it is not supposed to make you feel bad in the past, present or future.

#consent #Spiritual #Mental health #Anxiety #Pick a card #pick a card reading #tarot #divination #oracle #social media #spiritual awareness #Spiritual issues #red flags

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t. But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect. How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed. The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before. A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words. There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

#kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #kirishima x you #yandere #Yandere kirishima #tw.death #tw.suicide

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glxssylaufey · 4 years ago

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Mischief Maker - Chapter 1

a/n: PLEASE READ THE FIX TEASER BEFORE READING THIS :) i hope you all enjoy!

summary: loki x reader ; The reader is already faced with problems regarding Loki. Meanwhile, Tony plans a party.

word count: 3,461

warnings: minor bad language, mentions of drinking

taglist: @alex-sulli @delightfulheartdream

“Have I overcooked the steak again, Y/N?”

You didn’t quite realize that you were spacing out until Wanda’s voice had snapped you back into reality. You lift your head to find a mix of confusion and concern in her eyes.

“Oh not at all, it’s perfect.” you reassure her, poking at the dinner she had prepared for you that night. Wanda was a kind soul. She knew that ever since this morning you were on edge, so she thought that a homemade meal would help remedy your uneasiness.

“It’s okay if you’re not hungry.” Wanda assured you after a bit of silence. “I know you probably have a lot on your mind.” she spoke softly, feeding herself more food from her plate.

“Do you think I made the right choice?” you questioned, pushing your plate aside because you indeed were not hungry. Wanda continued to chew, allowing herself time to really think of the circumstances. What you did not expect was for her to stay silent even after her mouthful of food was swallowed. Normally when Wanda remained silent after receiving a question, it was not good news.

“Well it is true, people can change.” she suggested with a shrug. “I think you’re going to be just fine.”

You don’t blame her for avoiding the question because after all, you didn’t even know if you made the right decision agreeing to watch over Loki.

You opened your mouth to say something but was cut off by loud pounding on the door to Wanda’s room. You hopped to your feet, a low groan escaping your lips. What could possibly be going wrong so early into the ten days? When you opened the door, you were faced with a distraught Sam Wilson, frantically tapping his foot. Once his eyes meet yours, he gives you an exasperated look.

“What are you doing?!” he queried loudly. His tone was as if he caught you doing something unspeakable.

“Having dinner?” it came out almost like a question. “Is there something you need, Sam?”

“Yeah, I need you to do your job and get Loki out of the movie room.” he demanded, taking a step back to allow you out of the doorframe. At first, you didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, yet you followed behind Sam regardless.

When you reached the movie room, you were faced with exactly what you had expected. Some juvenile situation that could easily be solved if you weren’t dealing with such hot headed men. When you walked into the room, you found Loki laying with his legs sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued onto a book he held in one hand. His body effortlessly took up the entire couch, considering his impressive height. You were relieved, at least he hadn't stabbed anybody. At least not yet. Next to the couch, Bucky stood with his arms crossed glaring down at the seemingly peaceful god.

“What’s the problem, James?” you asked.

“Well, Sam and I were going to watch a movie.” he explained as if it were obvious. “But your little friend here is taking up the whole space, even though we reserved this spot tonight.” Bucky’s words caught Loki’s attention and he slowly raised his head from his book to look up at you. When he saw that you were who Sam retrieved to save the day, he rolled his eyes. That seemed to be common for him.

“She is not my friend.” Loki spat coldly. “And I was already here first.”

“But we already reserved the spot, I’ve told you this about six damn times.” Sam whined with aggravation in his voice. You sighed, mentally face-palming yourself at how childish Sam and Bucky were being. Though you opted to take their side because you knew you would never hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“Loki, you can always move to a different room where it might be quieter anyways.” you gently propose. You made sure to choose your words carefully in order not to agitate him. When his head shot up to look directly at you, your heart dropped to your stomach. You swallowed a lump in your throat, hoping you didn’t upset him any further.

“This room has the best lighting for my reading. I do not want a separate room.” he claimed, seemingly speaking more to Sam and Bucky rather than you. You panicked for a moment, feeling like you’ve run out of ideas. Thankfully, you were a quick thinker.

“I think I might have a better spot for you.” you quickly remarked. You held your breath as you awaited his response, hoping you sounded enticing enough to get him to leave the room with you. Much to your relief, Loki stood with a huff after planting his bookmark in his book.

“Lead the way.” he challenged in a sarcastic mood. You give a simple nod before turning to walk out the door with the God of Mischief behind you. As you walked out, you heard Bucky yell an exhausted “thank you” to which you just waved your hand in the air to dismiss him.

While walking down the hallway, you mustered up enough courage to slow your steps in order to walk beside Loki rather than in front of him.

“I’m really sorry about those two, I know they can act like they own the place sometimes.” you apologized, hoping to lighten the mood. Loki merely just shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m given a good spot to continue reading as you promised.” he replied plainly. This of course only made you second guess your pick of a location. You continued to walk with Loki until you both crossed paths with Natasha, who immediately looked curious as to what you two were doing.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” she asked, turning to face you.

“Just peachy.” you replied, forcing the smile on your face. “I’m taking Loki outside. He needs a quiet place to read.” you explained. Natasha did no further questioning and thankfully neither did Loki. He didn’t seem to have a problem with being led outside.

“You two have fun.” she spoke with a chuckle. “By the way, don’t forget we have another one of Stark’s parties to attend tomorrow night.” her reminder caused you to stop in your tracks. Stark’s parties were always flashy and extravagant, the type of thing that you felt completely turned off of as of recently.

“Of course.” you scoffed. “Thanks for telling me.”

“But do you know if… you know.” Natasha gestured towards Loki. You quickly caught onto what she was hinting at. Would Tony even allow Loki to step foot into the party? You sigh and look up at Loki who seemed confused as to what you two were talking about.

“I don’t care what Tony says. Loki shouldn’t be locked away in his room.” you declare, setting your foot down. Your statement only seemed to intrigued Loki.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked, looking to the both of you.

“Not at all!” you exclaimed quickly. “Now let’s go before it gets dark out.” you began speed walking towards the door hoping Loki would follow behind you. Thankfully, he continued to walk without any more questions. Once you both finally got out of the doors to the compound, Loki took a deep breath and looked around. It wasn’t until now you realized he probably hasn’t gotten much fresh air since arriving here. Though much to your dismay, Loki didn’t let the events with Natasha go unanswered.

“Will you tell me what you and Agent Romanoff spoke of now?” he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his voice. You decided not to protest. He deserved to know, after all. You gave yourself a moment to compose your thoughts so your explanation came out efficiently. You both continued to walk.

“Tony likes to host these huge parties from time to time to let all the Avengers have a break from their work and just have some fun with one another.” you paused, not knowing how to word the next bit. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that Tony isn’t very fond of you.”

“Of course I have.” he stated, almost in offense. “And I suppose he wants me locked away in my room as you said?”

You just simply looked at him and nodded, relieved he caught on quick. As you both continued to walk toward the hill you always painted on, you decided not to speak and allow Loki time to dwell on the situation.

“Well thank you.” he finally said. “For not wanting me to be hidden away.” he added quickly. Due to reasons you can’t explain, you blushed at Loki’s gratitude. Hearing kind words from him was refreshing. It had actually caught you off guard with how quickly he could switch from overbearing to gentle so fast.

“You’re welcome.” you replied with a warm smile. Once you two finally reached the top of the hill, you let out a sigh as you looked around. It was perfect. The two of you had the perfect view of the sunset which was glowing a beautiful orange and pink ombré. A gust of warm wind gently rushed through the air, giving you a sense of comfort. When you turned to look at Loki, you found he was also admiring the scene displayed in front of him. As you studied his face, you noticed there was just something about the way the sun hit his face that made him seem so normal. Maybe even human. When he turned to look at you, you jumped a little after being caught blatantly staring at him.

“Do you come up here often?” he questioned, taking a step towards you. To avoid any sort of eye contact, you let your head hang low to watch your feet kick at the grass lightly.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite place to come when I want to be alone.” you explained to the ground. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous you were to be alone with him. Of course, he did.

“Do I frighten you, girl?” he pondered, tilting his head to the side to make an attempt to look at your face. His question made your breath hitch, though you would never let him notice. You brought your head up to look at him once more, but was startled to find that Loki was standing just a mere foot away from you. You cleared your throat quickly to reply.

“No.” you lied. You knew good and well that he intimidated you possibly more than anything else in the Avengers tower.

“You know, I wouldn’t blame you if you were.” he assured you. “I’m sure your friends have fed you all the awful stories about me.”

“I was there when it happened, so I already knew about the incident.” you informed him, hoping you didn’t come off as rude. Loki hummed in response. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, making the air feel awkward.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person though.” you spoke truthfully. You hoped to give him any sort of comfort to counteract the heaviness of the moment. Loki continued to stare at you before nodding in appreciation.

“I’m grateful.” he answered with certainty. You smile and turn back to face the sunset that has now faded to a beautiful pastel pink. Feeling a sense of self-consciousness come down upon you, you suddenly decide that you have overstayed. Even if you were technically in a place that was very much yours.

“Well if all you were looking for was a place to read, I’ll leave you be now.” you said, turning back to face Loki. What you did not expect was Loki to give you a confused look as if you weren’t supposed to leave.

“Don’t you want to watch the rest of the sunset?” he asked, waving his hand towards the sky. His recommendation made your cheeks burn up. Gods, why was he making you so flustered? You took a step back towards where you were previously next to him.

“I’d love to.” you replied sweetly. That was the first time you saw Loki, the God of Mischief smile. It was quick and simple, nothing more than a smirk. It made your heart warm up nonetheless.

Loki continued to tell you of the sunsets on Asgard while the two of you sat on top of the grassy hill. It soothed your mind to hear how comfortable Loki was talking to you. You sat and was a good listener to Loki, enjoying all the descriptions he gave you of his home. In return, you told him of your artwork and how you were actually a painter when you weren’t being an Avenger.

“You’d find the art on Asgard to be quite astounding then.” he said at one point. “Thor has told me much about you. He never told me you were a painter.” you raised an eyebrow at Loki’s statement.

“Thor has talked about me?” you asked with a smile. Loki paused for a moment to think, lightly groaning in frustration.

“Of course. That’s all the oaf does is talk.” Loki swore. There was a small sigh that did not go unnoticed from Loki. It soon became apparent that Loki wasn’t very adoring of talking about his brother. You quickly decided to change the subject.

“Well I can always show you some of my art work if you’d like.” you suggested. Loki remained silent, making you worrisome. You wondered if you had overstepped with recommending him some of your paintings. After a couple of seconds, Loki finally turns to connect his eyes with yours.

“I’d like that.” he assured you softly.

The two of you talked until the sun had fully vanished into the night. The both of you walked back to the tower in silence, neither of you quite knowing what to say. The moment you had walked back into the tower, you were approached by Tony who had some sort of list in his hand.

“Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” he announced. “Listen, I have to discuss the party with you. Um, Reindeer Games, if you don’t mind?” Tony said, rudely waving Loki away in the other direction. Loki simply glared at Tony before stomping off to wherever he decided to go next.

“You know, there’s no need to be rude.” you said to Tony quietly.

“Oh what, you two are like best buds now?” he teased. You didn’t respond, letting Tony get his laughs in. “Anyways, I wanted to ask if you’re interested in making a little bit of cash.”

You quirk an eyebrow at Tony, already having a bad feeling about where this is going.

“What do you mean?” you ask, utterly confused. Tony just smiled and unraveled the list he held in his hand, revealing a whole index full of people’s names you had no clue existed.

“I have a whole bunch of rich assholes coming tomorrow that are completely loaded. So, being the nice person I am, I thought I’d ask if you had any pieces of art that you’re willing to put prices on for these people.” you groan, listening to the proposition that was very much a Tony Stark idea.

“You want people to bid on my art?” you plainly summed up everything Tony said.

“You’ll get every penny!” he threw his hands up in mock defense. “I just need some kind of big event to get people to show up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Tony, I can’t. I’ll be busy enough making sure Loki doesn’t get into any trouble at the party.” you explained. You were hoping your words would go right over Tony’s head, but of course it didn’t. Nothing ever gets past him.

“Oh, no. Oh hell no, he’s not coming near my party! I don’t need him scaring away my guests.” Tony exclaimed. There it was. The big demand from the man himself that will forbid Loki from acting as a normal person. Or god, per say.

“Why not? He really does seem like he's changed.” you tried to persuade him, but as you expected, your pleas fell upon deaf ears.

“Don’t care.” Tony said with a matter of fact tone. “Please just do me a favor and go through some old paintings. It doesn’t have to be huge, just something that’ll make rich people feel richer.” he ordered while walking back to his lab. With that said, it seemed like you really didn’t have much of a choice. You began to walk back to your room, already thinking of a plan to allow Loki out of his room during the party. After seeing the amount of people on the guest list, you deemed it easy enough to sneak him into the party.

Third Person POV:

Loki banged on the doors to his brother’s room desperately. As he knocked, he looked around to make sure nobody would catch him pounding on the door like a madman. Once the doors finally opened, Thor’s eyes lit up to find his brother had come to visit him.

“Oh, brother! What a surprise this is!” Thor practically shouted with a smile. Loki didn’t bother with returning the enthusiasm. “Please come in.” Thor requested, opening the door wider to allow his brother entry. When Loki walked in, his nose scrunched at the mess of Thor’s room. There were clothes everywhere with several empty beer bottles scattered about. Not to mention all the various candy wrappers that decorated the floor.

“By the norns, has our mother raised a pig?” Loki ridiculed his brother in disgust. This of course didn’t phase Thor due to the fact that he’s dealt with Loki’s judgement even as children. As a matter of fact, he expected it when Loki walked in.

“Last time I checked, no.” Thor replied with a smile. “Now, what is it you need, brother?” Thor asked. Loki looked his brother in the eyes for a good moment before speaking again. Loki often did this to be sure Thor was actually listening.

“It’s about Y/N.” Loki finally admitted. “She’s so different.” Loki said almost in puzzlement.

“Whatever do you mean?” Thor asked, tilting his head to the side.

“She was unceasingly friendly to me today, without even asking anything in return.” Loki explained, confusion written on his face. “I want to repay the kindness to her.” Loki stated confidently. Thor chuckled lightly, happy to see that someone was showing his brother kindness.

“Ah yes, Y/N is a very sweet girl.” Thor confirmed happily. “Have you taken an interest in her, brother?” Thor suggested with a wink. Loki’s eyes widened in anger at Thor’s teasing and he hit his brother firmly in his broad chest.

“Of course not! That is absurd!” Loki blurted out. “I simply just want to return the favor after she was kind to me, that is all.” Loki corrected Thor.

“It is not such a far fetched idea, brother! She is a very likable woman.” Thor shamelessly stated. This made Loki think back to earlier when he told Y/N of Thor speaking of her. He recalled the way her eyes sparkled when he mentioned Thor speaking of her. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that it was Thor that Y/N had affections towards. After all, what woman wasn’t completely head over heels for his brother? Loki rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Just tell me what I should do to repay her for being so pleasant to me.” Loki said with irritation deep in his tone.

“Stark is holding a party tomorrow night.” Thor said with a snap after a bit of contemplating. “You can ask to treat her to a drink.” Thor suggested. It seemed like the perfect idea. That was until Loki remembered your conversation with Natasha.

“I can’t.” he said simply. “Stark is prohibiting me from going to his little get together.” Loki snorted. Thor began to brainstorm ideas. He was happy that someone was finally showing warmth to his brother and he did not want anything to get in the way of it.

“Then I shall sneak you in!” Thor exclaimed with his typical mightiness. Loki rolled his eyes at his brother’s over-confidence.

“And how do you expect to do that?” Loki challenged, crossing his arms.

“I will find a way. Surely it can’t be that hard.” Thor affirmed with a beaming smile. “C’mon brother, you’re the God of Mischief! Surely something like this is right up your alley.” Thor made a good point. Loki knew it would be easy enough to fool the Midgardians. After some consideration, Loki smiled at his brother.

“What do you have in mind?”

#tom hiddleston #marvel #marvel mcu #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki #fanfic #marvel fanfic series #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#chapter one

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Note

I love your Lucifer/MC/Diavolo stuff so much... What if they wanted to keep their darling forever, but needed their soul to do it? Cue Lucifer... "persuading" their darling to make a pact with one of them while Diavolo watches and occasionally comforts their darling and tells them to just give in so things can go back to the way they were... Even if it's more logical to suffer a lifetime of torture to spend eternity in the Celestial Realm than to give up their soul, it's easier said than done.

Any scenario with Lucifer and Diavolo feels like a scenario I’d be happy to write. Especially one where they’re lording over their poor, unfortunate Darling, the more powerless the better.

Title: Methods of Persuasion.

TW: Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Death, Bondage and Kidnapping.

In moments like this, you began to wish you’d caught the eye of a less thoughtful demon.

You didn’t want to fight any of the brothers, if you were being honest. They’d been precious to you, they are precious to you, but if you had to, some would certainly be easier to escape than others. Mammon was determined, but careless, he’d forget something and you’d take advantage of that. Satan was smart, but he could be distracted, and you could get away. Beelzebub was emotional, Asmodeus was a pacifist, Leviathan had a temper, and Belphegor could be violent, but he never failed to take the path of least resistance when it came to conflict. Lucifer was… difficult, in comparison. You couldn’t slip out of iron shackles, nor could you break the wood of Diavolo’s headboard with so little slack to work with. You couldn’t attack him, not when he was careful to stay an arm’s length away, and nothing you shouted, yelled, screamed made a difference, his disposition as cool and collected as it always was. Making him as untouchable as he always was.

And with Diavolo so eager to impress, you couldn’t make him do anything besides sit back and admire his companion’s work.

He was already smiling, a grin spread across his taut lips as he unconsciously leaned towards you, perching himself on the side of your bed as he scanned over your restraints, your torn clothes, you. Lucifer wasn’t as blatantly content, his satisfaction buried beneath layers of lukewarm apathy, but he was still hovering over Diavolo’s shoulder, waiting for a reaction, a validation of his hard work. Like a dog, waiting to see if it’d fetched the right object for his owner. “You outdid yourself,” Diavolo confirmed, allowing Lucifer the barest hints of a smirk. “I could’ve helped, y’know. I’m sure (Y/n) didn’t give you too much of a struggle, but whether or not you believe it, I am a demon. I’d like to think I’m a capable one, too.”

“A man of your status shouldn’t have to lower himself.” It was a hollow declaration, considering you and Diavolo are both well-aware that any task Lucifer chose to take up was a task he believed no one else could do correctly. Diavolo accepted it nonetheless, nodding along as Lucifer continued to feed his own ego. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, not when we share a vice--”

“If you two are done jerking each other off,” You cut in, letting your chains rattle for emphasis as you shifted, settling onto your back with a noticeable amount of effort to seem comfortable. “I’d like to know where I am, and more importantly, why I’m here. I don’t remember agreeing to any of you schemes, Lord Diavolo, and Lucifer, if I did something to break one of your many oh-so-essential rules, I think I deserve a warning before you chain me to a bed for it.”

Despite the latter half of your declaration, Diavolo never wavered, his delight holding strong as he clasped his hands together, his colorless knuckles the only indication of his anxiety. “You don’t have to be afraid,” He started, taking on a rehearsed, manufactured tact. “Luci’ and I are here to offer you an… arrangement, of sorts. You see, my companion’s grown awfully fond of you.” Lucifer’s hand came to rest on Diavolo’s shoulder, as much in support as it was in warning. Diavolo had the decency to move on quickly. “We’ve grown fond of you. And, because of that--” His expression grew conspiratorial. Softening, but taking on a dangerous edge. “--we’d like to make you a demon.”

You opened your mouth, your disgust coming instantaneously, but Lucifer spoke before you had a chance to, mistaking your apprehension for confusion. “A demon of sorts,” He corrected, coming to stand beside Diavolo. “You won’t be as powerful as a fallen angel or a creature born demonic, but you’ll be immortal, and you’ll be able to stay in the Devildom for as long as you wish. You’ll be strong, and safe-guarded, and you’ll be able to stay with us.” This time, when he glanced towards Diavolo, his eyes were brimming with affection, with expectation. He didn’t doubt you would accept. To him, it wasn’t even a possibility. “All you have to do is give Diavolo your soul. It’s more symbolic than anything - to show your loyalty. And I can promise you, it won’t hurt. Not after the transformation is complete.”

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. It was a terrible offer to make, an awful thing to propose unprompted. You were kept in the dark about most spells and forms of magic, but souls were important, and offering yours couldn’t be as harmless as they were trying to make it seem. You’d be lucky if you were just bound to Diavolo. In the worst possible scenario, you’d be his creature, you’d be under his control rather than your own. You didn’t want to be immortal, you didn’t want to be a demon, and whatever relationship Diavolo and Lucifer were doing a poor job of hiding, you didn’t want to be a part of it.

“No, no, no,” You spat. You only meant to say it once, but duplicates stumbled out after the first, spilling over your lips before you could stop them. “If it was ‘just symbolic’, I wouldn’t be handcuffed. You wouldn’t have fought to bring me here. You wouldn’t try to make it sound so good. Tell me what you really want.”

Instantly. Lucifer’s calm smile turned to a snarl, his voice dipping into a growl. “You ungrateful--”

“We’ve prepared counter-measures,” Diavolo explained, ever the diplomat. “If you don’t accept our generosity...” His fist dropped to the sheets, the comforter soon balled in his grip. For the first time, you noticed how tight his grip was, how he was itching to hold something, but never seemed content with what he found. Abruptly, you wondered if his intentions were genuinely nervous or more violent in nature. “We aren’t in a place to let you refuse. I’m afraid we might’ve waited too long for that.” He sighed, composing himself. By the time he continued, his shoulders were squared, his gaze more focused than it had been. Resolved, but not defeated. “Handing over your soul would be the wisest option. You will, eventually, but Lucifer is prepared to make things… unnecessarily stressful, if you insist on being stubborn.”

“I’m going to torture you,” Lucifer summarized, his hesitation as scarce as his remorse. “I’m going to hurt you, and Diavolo is going to hurt you, and perhaps Barbatos will, if he wants a turn. You’re going to bleed and scream and suffer until you’re begging to give us anything we want, or you’re going to die and we’ll have you regardless. Submission will be easy, simple, and painless. If you’re looking for kindness, this is the only time you’ll be able to find it.”

Lucifer didn’t hesitate, so you couldn’t, either. You didn’t need to. You’d known what your answer would be before he opened his mouth. “Over my dead body.”

This time, it was Diavolo’s turn to smile, the gesture more earnest than it’d been all night. Slowly, a hand drifted towards you, coming to rest on your thigh. You weren’t sure if it was meant to be a threat, but suddenly, you were aware of just how sharp his nails were, of just how happy he seemed to let them push into your skin until they nearly drew blood.

“That can be arranged, my love.”

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ageofevermore · 4 years ago

Text

Golden

summary → in which Harry doesn’t understand how he can possibly love such a small baby so painfully much.

word count → 1.7k

note → this might require a few deep breaths because oh lord, i really laid the fluff down thick.

add yourself to my taglist

When you and Harry had fallen pregnant it was unexpected. You had been talking about starting a family in the near future, but hadn't felt the need to fall in deep. You were aware of the problems you might face with natural conception, especially due to the stress of being employed by the entertainment industry, but just three days after your conversation, the both of you had gotten carried away in a moment of beautiful love.

You had been on birth control ever since your seventeenth birthday when your mother figured you might begin to explore your sexual desires. It was something she was quite open about, making it easier to tell her that you were seeing a green eyed wonder called, Harry.

It was just after a morning run through LA that you took a test. It was some cheap brand, an impulse buy after laying in bed worrying about your lack of protection weeks prior. You had been paranoid for days, your cycle abnormally long and lacking the usual symptoms of tension and muscle aches. Instead, you had full fledges cramps and headaches.

When the first test came back positive you almost fainted on the floor of your en-suite. Harry was just downstairs and heard the unusual commotion. You were usually light on your feet, a classically trained ballet dancer as a child. It was worrisome to find you doubled over on your hands and knees beside the tipped over nightstand. Harry had immediately rushed to your aid, collecting your frame in his hands and pressing soft kissing to your forehead until he could get your attention. Your eyes were dazed, hands balling into the fabric of his thick black jumper. You were completely beside yourself with joy.

"What's a'matter, moppet?" He mumbled against your forehead, pulling your legs over his lap so her could bring you closer. He softly pried your hands away from his jumper, kissing your clenched knuckles fervently. "Scaring me, love. What's got you so worked up?"

The thought of the positive pregnancy test in your palm brought on a new wave of tears. The tip of your nose trembled as you broke into a wide grin, breaking down completely into Harry's chest with gleefully shocked giggled. Harry didn't waste a minute, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer to his chest. Your legs wrapped around him like a koala, but it only made this moment sweater for you. For now, you were the only one that knew about the growing baby making a home for itself inside of you. For years you had overlooked how special this moment would be.

"Pet." Harry cooed, bringing his fingers down your spine. The metal of his rings was cold when he lifted your shirt and tickled your back with scratches. "Gotta tell me what's got you so giddy."

Uncoordinatedly you smashed your lips against Harry's. Your teeth knocked against his harshly, but all you could manage was a smile that left his lips wet, "We're parents." Your whispered.

The end of your pregnancy was brutal, complete with unbearable braxton hicks and obscene swelling. You had been riddled with insomnia for weeks as well, and the throbbing in your fingers was brought on by the wedding band stuck between your knuckles that even elevation and heating pads couldn't help. Harry had done his absolute best to make you comfortable, but even his hour long foot rubs and 3am snack runs did little for you. None of that was relevant now, nor was the stitching holding your torn vagina together. Your baby, sweet Indie Anne Styles, was here. She was perfect, and she was finally before your eyes.

Her warm pink body was flush against your chest. Harry stood off to the side, tears blurring his vision as he took in the picture before him. His first true love was embracing their own little mini. He had no doubts that his little Indie was a product of the truest breed of young love. Indie, Harry wasn't so sure the big name fit her little body and button nose.

"Look at her, lovie." You sniffled, running your finger down her cheek. She had finally stopped wailing, settling into your warmth and letting herself fall asleep in your embrace. You were certain birth was tiring for babies, glad to see that your little love was resting up now and getting ready to experience the life you and Harry had shaped just for her. "She's perfect."

"Knew she would be, love." Harry came closer to the both of you, bending down to press a kiss to your sticky forehead. He loosely grabbed the newborns hand, chocking on a sob when she gripped his thumb. Her grip was tight for such a tiny human, and already Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to live every day with a heart so heavy with love.

Your husband was barely keeping himself together over your shoulder as he admired your daughter. You had gently coaxed a pacifier between her lips after watching her squirm, and the soft pink plastic only brought Harry a new wave of overwhelming love and protection. He never wanted anything to hurt his littlest love, his precious baby Indie.

"Thank you, pet." He cried into your crown, pressing gentle kissed to your hair and face at an uncomfortable angle. He didn't want to hurt you, but he needed to thank you for this moment. It was everything he had always dreamed of and so much more, "Thank you for her. Thank you."

It had taken Harry three weeks to call Indie her name, having a habit of referring to the newborn as 'his little angel'. You didn't mind the title, but hearing her name on the tip of his tongue made you weak. He had taken great to becoming a father, like you knew he would. You had never had any doubts about just how unconditionally Harry would love your little human. He was up with you during every feed, changing all the diapers until you were healed enough to bare standing at the change table for long stretches.

He bought only the best for his Indie too. Her nighttime routine was prepped with high end vegan moisturizers and ointments. Her diapers were made of organic, non toxic, vegan materials. He didn't care for prices, only quality. Harry was as relatively humble man. He never talked about wealth or thought it as anything valuable, but he also, despite what it seems, didn't splurge on high end products often. He had his limits and boundaries, but his money was used wisely and not thrown away on material. He refused to let Indie soak in a cheap diaper though, even when you assured him that most diapers were exceptionally made and there was no need to spend a few hundred dollars every month.

It didn't take long for Indie to form more defined features, one being her insanely bright blue eyes and thin strands of soft blonde hair. You weren't quite sure where your baby girl came from to be honest, seeing as your eyes weren't near the same shade of color as hers nor were Harry's. Her hair was ungodly as well. Almost like your favorite disney film, her locks were strikingly golden. It had only taken a month before you caught Harry above her crib, whispering a fond, "Good morning, golden girl."

Golden had been her name since that dewy spring morning. You couldn't see her as anything but, adoring the nickname Harry had brought upon the three of you. It was odd when you had family visiting and they would refer to your precious Golden as Indie.

It was just after two am when the shrill screams of your infant severed the sleep you and Harry were catching up on. His arm was thrown around your waist, and for a minute neither one of you moved. She was going through a growth spurt meaning the usually laid back baby you shared a house with was needy and desperate for her fathers attention and your satin milk. It was hard to give her what she wanted at times. You knew she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave Harry's arms.

That had happened just the other day. With the luck you were working on, you had forgotten to pack away another pre-made bottle. She was eating so frequently you hadn't had the need to pump, but that decision came back to bite you when she woke up from her nap hungry and only wanting her daddy. You both had eventually figured out a way to please her, but it had been frustrating and stressful on the three of you alike. It was safe to say you were always on top of bottles now.

When Harry finally did pull away from your warmth, he kissed your temple before feeling the room, not before you heard the last of his mutter, "I'm coming, Goldie."

You were sure your heart exploded in that moment. When you saw him again, this time with a squirmy baby impatiently suckling on the nipple of a pacifier, tears were gathering in your eyes. You smiled widely down at your little love, affectionately stroking her cheek. You settle her against your chest, wincing when she latches, but relaxing when her sucks become rhythmic and predictable.

In the darkness Harry couldn't make out your teary smile, instead just moving around the master and preparing another diaper for Goldie, having felt the wet one when he picked her up from the crib moments ago. He could hear you praising the baby for doing such a good job, promising that it was okay if she woke up every thirty minutes, but what caught him off guard was when you brushed your thumb over her cheek and whispered, "Look just as pretty as your Daddy, Goldie."

"Y'heard that, huh?" He stuttered. He knew you weren't too fond of the first few nicknames he had given Goldie, and he was almost fearful that you would reject his shortened version of Golden.

You rolled your eyes softly at his question, patting a patterned on your baby girl's diapered bottom as she nursed with sleepy eyes. "I think it's cute, fits her."

Harry smiled widely at the pair of you, the dim moonlight capturing the perfect moment in his memory. His love for you and Goldie somehow got deeper every day. He never wanted to leave this stripped down midnight moment. This perfectly golden moment.

#dad!harry #Harry Styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #fine line #fine line series #goldie styles #husband!harry #boyfriend!harry #best friend!harry

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writtenjewels · 3 years ago

Text

Escort part 2

Part One

John lay stretched out on his couch, staring up at the ceiling with his mind drifting as he listened to music. Inevitably his thoughts made their way back to the job he had a few days ago. It wasn't the first time he'd been hired by friends wanting to give someone a good time. John wondered if these friends knew that the “good time” boiled down to a homemade meal and watching sports.

He couldn't remember the last time a job turned out like that. It wasn't exactly common in this line of work, but every now and then he did get a client who just wanted to make out or cuddle. He and Kaidan had barely touched except to shake hands. He would think that Kaidan just wasn't interested, except every now and then during the evening Kaidan would look at him a certain way or make a comment that sounded flirtatious.

It was strange. Maybe he was shy, or embarrassed that his friends hired John? It was a familiar reaction. Hell, sometimes the people who hired him for themselves were embarrassed. How many times had he heard them lament over not being able to find a “real” date? John found it hard to believe Kaidan wouldn't be able to find a date if he wanted. The guy was pretty as fuck. Of course the same could be said for John himself.

He caught a flashing light out of the corner of his eye and sat up. He must have missed the new private message alert. It was from his escort account, which meant he had a new job waiting. John got up and opened the message.

John, I have tickets to a hockey game and my friend had to cancel at the last minute. Interested? Let me know.

Kaidan

That was strange. He read over the message again. There was no credit advance attached so he could ignore this if he wanted. But he was very curious as to why Kaidan was contacting him after their evening together. Had he been thinking about John? Did he want something more to happen this time? John decided to do some prep just in case. His clients really liked it when he did that.

He felt a sense of deja vu as he stood at Kaidan's door and knocked. Kaidan answered the door and John took a minute to just look at him. The guy was more casually dressed this time, wearing a jersey John assumed was in support of one of the hockey teams.

“Wow,” he smiled. “You look great.”

“So do you,” Kaidan returned. “Though I'm curious: do you have any clothes that fit you?” John laughed and plucked at his shirt. All his escort clothes were meant to be a little tight to show off his body. “Nevermind.” Kaidan waved the subject away. “I just hope you don't distract the players.”

“Oh.” John smiled, sliding his arm around Kaidan's without even thinking. “You're saying I'm distracting?”

“The way you dress? Yes, very.” Kaidan didn't pull away. They headed outside and took rapid transit. John had considered renting a car again but that hadn't swept Kaidan off his feet last time. They talked more on the way, mostly about the rules of hockey since John didn't understand the sport at all.

When they arrived Kaidan suggested they get some snacks. John got in line to pay while Kaidan headed for their seats. He did notice people eyeing him while waited for his turn. But he was sure there were quite a few eyes on Kaidan, too. The guy had a great ass... not that John looked. Much. He got the snacks and headed off to find Kaidan. He caught the man staring at him and smiled.

“Were you just checking me out, Alenko?” he teased as he settled into his seat.

“I was hoping to catch you out of your element,” Kaidan corrected. He took his beer and sipped. “I'm starting to think everything is your element.”

“It's part of the job. I'm completely lost when it comes to sports, but if you're having a good time, that's all that matters.”

“So... you're okay doing anything I want to do?” Kaidan asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course.” Especially if “anything” means kissing me. Or taking me home and fucking me. I'd be very okay with that. “As long as we're both consenting. I don't do anything my client doesn't want, and I make it clear when I don't want something.”

“Have you--” Kaidan paused, fiddling with his beer bottle. “Sorry for all the questions, I'm just trying to understand. Is it always just one client?”

“Always,” John nodded. “I could get more money from multiples, but I like one-on-one better. I can focus completely on that person, really get to know them. It's actually my favorite part of this job: learning about the person.”

“And what have you learned about me?”

John gave it some thought. “You're very down-to-earth. You have a good sense of humor, you're smart, a good cook, friendly... You have this calm about you that I think people find reassuring.” Kaidan stared at him for a moment before looking away.

“That's... observant.” Was he blushing? John hoped so. They fell quiet to watch the game. Kaidan cheered or groaned depending on the play. Around half-time Kaidan started rubbing at his forehead, his body slightly hunched forward.

“Are you okay?” John worried.

“Mmn. Just a migraine. I get them sometimes.”

“Do you want to leave?” Surely all the noise and lights made it worse.

“John, I've dealt with this for nearly my whole life. Just give me a minute.” Nearly his whole life? John was no medical expert but chronic migraines had to mean something serious. He didn't like just sitting there while Kaidan suffered but Kaidan had rejected his help. It took much longer than a minute before Kaidan dropped his hand and let out a sigh.

“You good?” John asked.

“Manageable,” Kaidan replied.

“What's that mean?” He eyed Kaidan, a suspicion forming. “Shit, you're just going to sit there and take it, aren't you?”

“It's manageable,” Kaidan insisted. “I told you, I've dealt with this for years. If I had to put my life on hold every time I had a migraine, I'd never get anything done. Just... watch the game with me, please. I don't want you to treat me differently because of this.”

“Okay. Sorry.” John turned his eyes back on the game. He concentrated hard on each play so he wouldn't think about all the things he could do to make Kaidan's pain go away. Finally the game ended and everyone started getting up to leave. “Did your team win?” John asked, hoping for a neutral topic.

Kaidan gave him a half exasperated, half fond look. “You're hopeless with sports, John. What do you do with yourself, anyway?”

“You mean in my free time? Listen to music, feed my hamster, try for a new high score in the combat sims.”

“You have a hamster?” Kaidan questioned. “That's cute. What's its name?”

“Aldrin.”

“Wow.” Kaidan was grinning at him, making John's insides fluttery. He wished Kaidan would just kiss him already. “You're a space nerd.” John let out a laugh. He liked this guy, liked him a lot. And he was sure Kaidan liked him, too. He dared to lean a little closer.

“You should see my model collection.”

“That your way of inviting me back to your place?” The tone in Kaidan's voice suggested he was still teasing. Looking at him, John could easily picture the rest of the evening. He would take Kaidan in his arms and undress the man slowly, admiring every inch of him. Kaidan would be naked and gorgeous underneath him, legs wrapped around his waist, breath coming out rough and needy as John fucked him nice and slow.

“If that's what you want,” he said out loud.

“I don't have the credits for that,” Kaidan told him. “Let's just call it a night.” John nodded mutely, his heart now going a little faster. He hadn't heard a “no”.

“Could I kiss you goodnight?” Kaidan's eyes flicked down to John's mouth and back up to his face.

“I don't think I have the credits for that, either.”

“Jesus Christ, Kaidan, I don't get paid to be attracted to you,” John huffed out in annoyance. Kaidan's eyes widened. Shit, John hadn't meant to blurt that out. But then Kaidan was leaning closer, eyes falling closed. Their lips connected and John fought hard not to move in case it scared Kaidan off. But damn did he want to. He wanted to feel that hair under his fingers, bring that body closer to his, get a real taste of that mouth.

The kiss couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds. Kaidan broke it and took a step back. “Shit,” he cursed, and got in the first open taxi that drove by. John could only stand there in a daze.

What the hell just happened?

#kaidan x shepard #kaidan alenko #mshenko #mshepard #au

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago

Text

Oh My God, They Were Roommates

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You’re tired of denying your relationship in every interview, but Tom insists on keeping it a secret. Lucky for you, he’s terrible at keeping secrets

Masterlist

Secretly dating Tom Holland was not an easy job. You were his on and offscreen girlfriend, no people naturally wanted you to be together in real life. Towards the beginning of your relationship, you both agreed to keep it private. You’d managed to deny relationship rumors for over a year until you discovered something:

You and Tom were really really bad at keeping it a secret.

Far too many times, you’d do or say something that confirmed your relationship. And far too many times, you’d have to go on twitter to say it was a joke and that you and Tom were just friends. You hated lying to your fans about the nature of your relationship, and Tom wasn’t fond of it either. You didn’t want to lie anymore. You were ready for the world to know. And yet, the worst secret keeper in Hollywood was determined to keep it a secret.

It all started with social media.

You had stirred up rumors that you and Tom were dating when you dyed your hair red after being cast as MJ and posted a photo of it, captioning it “Face it tiger…”. Tom couldn’t help himself from commenting “I hit the jackpot.” The Spider-Man and MJ reference did not go over people’s heads and the rumors were born.

“This would be such a cute way to confirm our relation.” You smiled as your scrolled through the comments of your picture. “We should tell them.”

“Not yet, darling. I’m not ready for the world to know.” Tom said, much to your disappointment.

“Okay. No, I get it.” You gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek, dropping the subject.

A few weeks later, you sent out a tweet that read, “Tom just hit a pothole so hard that he’s American now.”, leaving fans to wonder why you were together on your day off.

“They caught us. They know we’re on a date.” You said from the passenger seat.

“Friends can hang out on days off. That doesn’t mean we’re a couple.” Tom replied and you looked over at him.

“But we are a couple.” You reminded him, a little hurt at his phrasing.

“They don’t need to know that. I wouldn’t even respond to it. Don’t feed the flame.” Tom shrugged and shot you a smile. You faked a smile back and nodded.

“You’re right. I won’t respond.” You put your phone down and looked out the window, hoping he couldn’t sense your disappointment.

Then, it escalated to interviews.

“Does your friendship ever interfere with shooting the romantic scenes? Like, were you ever shooting a cuddling scene or a date scene where you were grossed out because you had to do romantic things with your friend?” The interviewer asked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“Was it weird to do romantic things with my friend Tom? That’s a great question.” You said and Tom laughed from beside you, also seeing the irony. “It was pretty weird since we are such good friends.”

“The best of friends.” Tom egged on.

“Definitely.” You gave an over exaggerated nod. “He’s like family to me.”

“Like brother and sister.” Tom added and you burst out laughing. Tom laughed at your reaction and suddenly, you’re both hunched over laughing while the interviewer watched with a confused smile.

“I don’t think it was weird.” You said after you calmed down. “I have such a respect for Tom and I really admire his work as an actor, and I assume he feels the same for me-“

“More or less.” Tom joked.

“-so it wasn’t too bad.” You finished and elbowed him slightly.

“Was the first time you kissed awkward?” The interviewer asked.

“In the movie or-“ Tom began, forgetting the rest of the world didn’t know that you’d have a first kiss as Peter and MJ and a first kiss as a couple.

“No, it wasn’t awkward.” You quickly cut him off before he blew your cover. “At the end of the day, we’re both professionals and it’s just kissing. We do it all the time now.”

“Sometimes off screen. And that’s not a joke.” Tom brought up. “Especially during filming, I would sometimes forget we weren’t actually together and I’d walk into a room and kiss her.”

You smiled at the memory, remembering all the stolen kisses before you’d made it official.

“How did everyone else react?” The interviewer asked.

“They acted like it was completely normal.” You answered.

“Because for us, it was.” Tom shrugged.

“I will say, it did get complicated kissing you when were were shooting our reunion scene in Endgame because I had to be careful of your balls.” You said.

“What?” Tom nearly gasped. You realized how it sounded and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Motion sensor balls. The little white motion sensor balls.” You quickly explained. “Oh my God. I meant the balls on the motion caption suit.”

“I was about to say.” Tom laughed at your accident innuendo.

“Ask the next question, please.” You pleaded to get out of the awkward moment.

“So did you guys meet through this movie?” The interviewer saved you.

“Yes. We met while filming Infinity War when no one had any idea our characters were going to date.” You answered confidently to redeem yourself.

“We were always paired together for junkets and she gradually became my best friend. Sorry Haz.” Tom apologized to the camera.

“It’s great that you guys were able to click. Your chemistry in the movie is really outstanding.” The interviewer complimented. “I’m sure that’s due to the friendship you’ve built off screen.”

“Yeah, I mean it always helps to be friends with your scene partner. And when we would have to spend hours in a prop bed together, cuddling and kissing while they got the perfect shot, it made us even closer. And as for the chemistry, I guess it kinda happened naturally.” You smiled shyly.

“Here’s a clip from the upcoming film.” The interview said to the camera. A scene from Far From Home played where Peter and MJ awkwardly yet adorably flirting with each other on the London Bridge. You couldn’t help but lovingly watch Tom as the clip played, overly proud of his job in the film.

“We do have great chemistry.” Tom nodded after the clip played. “We should date.” He added and you laughed.

“The fans would love that. I’m sure you’ve seen the campaigns online for you two to get together.” The interviewer remarked.

“We’ve seen it. Or at least, I have. Have you?” You asked Tom.

“I started the campaign.” Tom deadpanned.

“Oh, okay.” You nodded causally. You both kept a straight face for as long as you could before you burst into laughter. You curled into Toms side and laughed until your sides hurt.

“So is this really just a friendship? Nothing more?” The interviewer asked skeptically.

“No. We’re just really good friends.” Tom said firmly. You smile slowly faded and you gave a curt nod. For the rest of the interview, you were in autopilot. Every time you thought Tom was ready to tell the world, he hit you with the “just friends” line. It wasn’t him calling you “friend” that hurt you. It was him saying “just”. Every time he said it, he chipped into your heart. It hurt you to hear him play your relationship off as “just” anything.

At the next interview with Jimmy Kimmel, you had a bigger slip than usual.

“I love the pants Tom.” Jimmy complimented a few minutes into the interview. “But I do miss you in the Spiderman suit.”

“Oh, thank you.” Tom smiled and smoothed out his grey patterned pants. “My girlfriend picked them out.” He said causally. His eyes widened and you did your best to keep a neutral expression.

“Girlfriend?” Jimmy asked with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, Uh, yeah. I’ve been seeing someone for a while now. I wasn’t supposed to let that slip so no one tell her.” Tom grimaced before looking into the camera. “Sorry, baby. She is really good at fashion though. She picked out most of my outfits for the press tour.”

“Well I have to say, your girlfriend has great taste.” Jimmy said.

“Thank you.” You answered, then cleared your throat to cover up the slip up. Tom caught your mistake and stifled a laugh.

“What was that, Y/n?” Tom asked coyly, knowing full well what you had accidentally said.

“I said she’s gonna kill you.” You lied through a smile.

“You’ve met her?” Jimmy asked you and you thought quickly on your feet.

“Oh yes. I know her very well.” You nodded. It wasn’t a total lie. You knew yourself pretty well.

“So you guys are friends?” Jimmy continued.

“No. I cannot stand that girl.” You laughed and Tom rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t gonna admit that his girlfriend was you, you were gonna have some fun.

“Here we go.” Tom sighed and the audience laughed.

“Why not?” Jimmy inquired.

“Because all she does is talk about herself.” You said. Tom laughed the irony and you giggled yourself.

“Well what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” Jimmy asked.

“I do have a boyfriend but he’s the worst.” You confirmed. Tom gave you a half cracked smile.

“What?” He asked, practically daring you to go on.

“Why do you say that?” Jimmy laughed.

“He can’t keep a secret to save his life.” You shrugged. “Except the one. He’s really good at keeping one.”

Tom knew exactly what you were doing and he couldn’t even blame you. He didn’t say anything, but patted your knee and left his hand there.

“So he’s like Tom then?” Jimmy said. “Tom, you’ve become infamous in Hollywood as being loose lipped.”

“He is not loose lipped, his lips are very nice.” You defended and Tom smiled shyly. “He just gets too excited and lets things slip.”

“Like you during that one scene.” Tom spoke up. You knew what he was talking about and your face reddened.

“Stop.” You warned.

“What did she let slip?” Jimmy wondered.

“Oh My God. This story is so embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face in your hands. Tom laughed at your discomfort and took your hand.

“We were shooting the “steamy”, as one night call it, scene in the film and she was supposed to say “Peter”, you know my characters name, in like a breathy voice.” Tom explained.

“I’d like to preface that this was an accident.” You cut in.

“So we’re shooting the scene and right in my ear she goes “Tom…I mean Peter”. But the whole thing comes out in like a moan and I thought it was the funniest thing ever.” Tom told the story.

“It was so embarrassing! The whole crew heard.” You groaned while Tom and the audience laughed at your expense.

You and Tom walked into your shared hotel room after the interview and allowed yourselves to relax. While you were setting your purse down on the bed, Tom came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his embrace and smiled.

“That went a lot better than I thought. If people think we’re dating other people, they’ll stop asking us if we’re together. This will totally throw them off.” Tom said and he kissed your temple. Your smile dropped as you turned around in his arms.

“Or, we could use this as an opportunity to tell them the truth about us. They know you have a girlfriend. Why not tell them that girlfriend is me?” You asked.

“Because my fans will come at you with a fiery vengeance. It’s better if they think you’re just my best friend. Trust me, darling, you don’t want them to know it’s you.” Tom tilted your chin up to look at him.

“And trust me, Tom, I do.” You said, and left his embrace.

The next day, you pretended like nothing happened for the sake of all the junkets you had to get through. You could tell Tom was sorry from the guilty looks he kept giving you, but you wouldn’t look back at him.

“What’s the best part of the press tour?” The interviewer asked.

“Getting to spend all day with my best friend.” You laud the word on thick as you wrapped your arms around Toms neck and covered his cheek in kisses. He got your point and let you do it as his way of apologizing. The interviewer laughed along, knowing the effect your actions would have on the fans.

“It’s great that you two are best friends. Is this press tour similar to the Homecoming one where you had to spend all day with Robert?” Tom was asked.

“That was a lot different. Robert has more of a godfather role in my life. I can go to him for advice, but I can’t play table tennis with him at three am in the hotel lobby like I can with Y/n.” Tom answered. You were warmed back up to him and gave him a gentle smile.

“And what’s your relationship with him like?” The interviewer asked you.

“He’s like my dad. He used to carry bandaids around just because I got hurt so much on set.” You replied.

“I remember that. He was always prepared. I went to Robert once when I was sick and he hooked me up to this crazy machine. I was super scared but it’s Robert Downey Jr., so I wasn’t gonna say no.” Tom chimed in.

“He makes Marvel lower your paycheck every time you say no to him.” You joked.

“Exactly. So I let him hook me up to it and it totally cured me. I was better in 15 minutes.” Tom continued.

“Aw. That’s so funny to think of Robert playing doctor on set. I guess your relationship with him is similar to Tony’s relationship with Peter?” The interview asked Tom.

“Definitely, definitely. Minus the fighting crime together and dying in his arms, obviously.” Tom replied.

“Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good.” You cut in with a laugh. Tom and the interviewer stopped and looked at you.

“What?” Tom asked with a growing smile.

“I said Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good. Like Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good.” You explained. You looked at Tom in confusion as he and the interviewer shared a look.

“What?” Tom repeated.

“Because you said your relationship was similar so I said-“ You began.

“No, I heard what you said.” Tom cut you off. “Who’s Mr. Junior?”

“Robert.” You replied, still confused why everyone was making a big deal.

“It’s Mr. Downey.” Tom said and began to laugh.

“Why would it be Mr. Downey? You wouldn’t be Mr. Stanley. It’s the last name. Mr. Junior.” You said again, feeling yourself growing frustrated.

“Yes, and his last name is Downey. My middle name is Stanley.” Tom explained.

You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what Tom was saying.

“Did you think his last name was Junior?” Tom broke the silence.

“No?” You said as more of a question than a statement.

“Have you seriously thought Roberts last name was Junior this entire time?” The interviewer asked, also laughing at you.

“I thought Downey was his middle name!” You shrieked.

“What?!” Tom asked and burst into laughter. You felt your face redden as the crew laughed at you as well.

“I thought he was Robert Downey Junior!” You said each name separately. “I thought he just used his full name like Neil Patrick Harris.”

“No.” Tom said in exasperation. “His fathers also named Robert so he’s Robert Downey Jr.”

“But he goes by RDJ! That implies that the “J” is a part of his initials.” You exclaimed.

“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.” Tom said as he wiped a happy tear from his eye.

“How did you think I feel?” You asked.

“I can’t handle this. You’re so ridiculous.” Tom choked out through his laughter. “I love you.” You restrained yourself from telling him you loved him back, knowing you couldn’t possibly make it sound platonic.

“Aw.” The interviewer gushed. “You two are such cute friends.”

“Yeah.” You gave a tight lipped smile. “Friends.”

As the press tour neared its end, your ability to keep the secret worsened.

Tom gave you a quick kiss on the lips before the cameras started rolling. The interviewer almost caught it, but you pulled away quickly before he could.

“What is that?” Tom asked as you bite into something orange sometime during the junket.

“A carrot.” You shrugged as your chewed.

“Where did you get carrots?” Tom laughed in confusion.

“The snack table outside.” You replied as you ate another one.

“There’s a snack table? Oh, that’s why you tasted like peppers.” He realized. Neither of you realized what he said but the interviewer raised an eyebrow.

“You know I can’t resist some peppy boys.” You told him. “That better be cut out.” You warned the camera.

“You say that every interview.” Tom pointed out.

“It feels warranted every interview.” You giggled. “You know I debated stealing some of the pineapple from the snack table to take home?”

“Of course you did. You and your smoothies.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“I love smoothies! Is that a crime?” You turned in your seat to ask him.

“Yes! You drink a smoothie every morning and then get hungry twenty minutes later. You guys, she does not eat enough.” Tom said to the camera.

“It’s better than you and your thirty jars of jelly in the refrigerator because someone can’t go a day without toast.” You shot back.

“Oh, do you guys live together?” The interviewer asked in surprise.

You and Tom blinked in surprise at accidentally revealing that fact.

“Uhh, yeah. We’re um…” You started.

“Roommates.” Tom said quickly. “I live in the UK but I work mainly in the States, so I live with Y/n when I’m here.”

“Roommates? How cute.” The interviewer smiled.

“Just adorable.” You mumbled.

You dropped your purse on the hotel bed that night and put you hands on your hips. Without even looking at you, Tom could sense you anger. He sheepishly looked up at you and gave you a weak grin.

“I’m sorry?” He offered.

“For what?” You demanded.

“I don’t know. You haven’t told me yet.” He said.

“Roommates? You told him we were roommates?” You asked, not bothering to mask the hurt in your voice.

“Well why else would we live together?” Tom defended his answer.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’ve been in a committed relationship for over a year.” You grumbled. Tom heard the frustration in your voice and and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“But they don’t know that, darling.” He said softly.

“But I want them too. You keep pushing back telling our fans. You said we’d tell them before the press tour.” You said, feelings tears rise to your eyes.

“Yes, but then I realized all the interviews would focus on our relationship and not the movie.” Tom reminded you. “We needed to promote the movie.”

“No one needs to promote Marvel movies! They’re Marvel movies!” You exclaimed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this, sweetheart. We agreed not to tell our fans.” Tom tried to talk you down.

“We agreed not to tell our fans right away. It’s been a year Tom. Do you not want them to know?” You sighed.

“I like my privacy, love. I don’t want the world intruding on us. I love you too much to share.” Tom cupped your face in his hands but you looked away.

“You say you love me, but tell the world I’m nothing but a best friend.” You said sadly. “Or worse, a roommate.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, angel. I’m sorry.” Tom apologized. You dropped the subject and went to bed without another word. You were cold towards Tom all the next day until your interview that night, the last of the press tour.

The media frenzy of rumors came to an end during a game of Charades on Jimmy Fallon. You were on Jimmy’s team, leaving Tom and Benedict as your opponents. You shot flirty banter back and forth all game until finally, your team won.

“Haha.” You pointed a jeering finger at Tom as you got off the couch and approaching him. He had his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you with pure joy. “Just like the War of 1812, the British lost-“ You couldn’t finish your burn because Tom had pulled you into a kiss.

“Sorry, darling. You looked so cute up there. I couldn’t resist.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Wait, are you two together?” Jimmy asked, interrupting the moment. He was looking back and forth between you and Tom and the camera. You realized that the moment occurred on live television and suddenly felt shyer than you ever had before.

Tom looked at you, allowing you to be the one to confirm it after wanting too for so long. You looked into the camera and smirked.

“Truth is…I am dating Tom Holland.” You said in true Tony Stark fashion. The audience irrupted into applause and you couldn’t stop your smile from breaking through. Tom looked at you fondly and pulled you into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled against his chest.

“Yes I did.” He whispered into your ear. “love my privacy, but I love you more.”

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