Tumgik
#anyways im really happy with how these turned out the new coloring brush i tested out with was really nice :)
tianhai03 · 1 year
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i did some leon doodles in my sketchbook almost a month ago and i finally had the time to finish redoing them digitally <3
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sukiglycerin · 4 years
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starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.
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* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)
* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY
* words: 5.2k, somehow
* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve
* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)
* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.
* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.
love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story. 
alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool. 
like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust. 
you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you. 
the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.
“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.
“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”
“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”
your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera. 
“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”
“how- how long?” your voice shook.
he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.
a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.
“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.
“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”
“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.
packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway. 
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you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?
the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it. 
red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.
“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you. 
“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you. 
he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”
“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.
“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”
“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented. 
“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.
“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”
“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”
“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”
“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”
“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.” 
“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?
he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks. 
"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense." 
you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied. 
he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."
"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings. 
"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"
 "'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent. 
once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.
after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together. 
he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”
“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.
he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”
you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”
“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”
“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.
“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face. 
“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him. 
hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe. 
you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”
“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”
“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”
“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”
“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong? 
you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently. 
“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”
“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.
“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.” 
“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”
he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”
“uh… orange juice,” you said. 
“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear. 
he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you. 
“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well. 
“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”
“y/n,” you said.
“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”
“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”
“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”
“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.
he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?” 
you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.
“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”
you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”
“how long?”
“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.
“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”
“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever. 
“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”
“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”
“you still love him, don’t you?”
“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”
“i’m sorry, dove,” he said. 
“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.
“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”
you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window. 
“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.
hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back? 
you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort. 
“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.
“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”
the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.
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walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.
“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.
it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.
“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets. 
“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.
“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”
“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”
“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.
“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”
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forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree. 
“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster. 
he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”
you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator. 
you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.
after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back. 
“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”
you nodded. “it’s amazing...” 
“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you. 
“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”
he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”
“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”
he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”
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the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you. 
“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important. 
“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.
“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”
you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand. 
“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand. 
“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”
that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.
“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.
you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love? 
you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you. 
even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.
what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.
hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.
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your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.
you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.
you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.
“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.
“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.
“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.
“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.
“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.
“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”
“alone?”
“i could never alone.”
“who…?”
“met a pro-hero by chance.”
“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.
“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.
he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”
your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you. 
it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class. 
and then it was all gone, shutting the box.
“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.
bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away. 
“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.
“yeah.” cold. emotionless.
you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”
“bye.”
your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.
you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.
“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.
“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.
“hey, birdie? are you okay?”
“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.” 
“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”
you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”
“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.
“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.
“what floor are you on, dove?”
“third,” you hiccupped. 
“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’
you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.
“well, tomura? i did it.”
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230 notes · View notes
oh-my-may · 4 years
Text
Bokuto, Kuroo and Oikawa confessing to their crush who wears glasses
requested: hi omg im new to this thing,, may i request an hc of bokuto, oikawa, and kuroo where the reader always wears eyeglasses and one day takes them off? Then they get curious as to how far the reader can see their faces clearly until they're just inches away from each other, and it suddenly turns into a confession? HDJSHA tbh i see the 3 as the most flirty ones who'd do that but if you have others in mind, i'd still be very happy to read them!! Thank you so much ❤ 
First of all this is such a creative idea I love it and enjoyed writing it! Second of all I had to completely rewrite Bokuto and Kuroo because Tumblr deleted the draft and??? Honestly I don’t deserve this
Also requests are open! I finished everything that was sitting in my inbox so give me more!
Bokuto Kotaro:
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You’ve been friends with him for quite a while and at school you always spend lunch together, you would sometimes come to practice and you’d let him rant about volleyball and what else, but you never left that ‘friends’ state, even though everyone around you knew you had a crush on each other (oblivious babies~)
Anyways he would constantly comment on your glasses and tease you about it? “How much can you see without them, Y/N? Are you blind?” “Do you think I’d look good with them? Let me try them on~” etc etc
So one day at lunch you would take them off because your head hurts a little. You rub your eyes and then lay your head on the table for some peace and quiet. But it didn’t last long.
Bokuto found you just moments after and saw your glasses laying around unsupervised. He took them and then took the place opposite to you. “Y/N-chan, can you see me~?”
You look up at him and perk an eyebrow. He was moving his head from left to right (like in the gif) and looked at you with widened, expectant eyes. “I am short-sighted Bokuto, so no, I can’t. I can see it’s you because of your hair but everything else is absolutely blurred.”
He pouts and gets a little closer. “And now.” You tilted your head a little. “It’s getting better. I can see your huge owl eyes.”
Bokuto smiled and came even closer, leaning over the table now. “How about now?”, he said, but his voice was trailing off a little. It was as if he was looking at you for the first time. Now that he was this close to you he was reminded of his crush and he was glad you couldn’t quite make out all features of his face yet, because a rosy blush found its way to his cheeks as he smiled conspirationally. “Getting better.”, you answer. “Are you blushing?”, you ask immediately after, noticing the pink tint of his cheeks.
He immediately sits back a little, trying to hide the blush. “Let’s go on a date.”, he says instead of answering and now you were the one to start blushing. “W-What?”
Bokuto puts your glasses on and looks at you as if he was thinking very deeply about something. “How about Friday? After my game? We could go and eat something.”
You gulp but nod, your face still feeling hot like hell. “Of course, I’d love to.” Because how could anyone ever say no to Bokuto? Especially when he was looking this good with your glasses on?
Kuroo Testuro:
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You’ve been friends since Middle School and became basically inseperable in High School. You joined the volleyball team as the manager so you guys could spend more time together and when he became captain in his 3rd year - Mom and Dad of the volleyball team, aaw
In Middle School you never gave it a second thought but as you got into High School you noticed how your heart jumped  a little when he looked at you directly, how your breath hitched when he smiled at you or how your guts twisted when you saw some other girl flirting with him.
Little did you know he did all that to subtly flirt with you and make you jealous to finally get a reaction out of you, but it never worked and he got frustrated. So one day after practice, when it was just the two of you in the gym cleaning up, he took his opportunity.
He came up behind you and snatched your glasses, before sprinting to the other end of the gym so you wouldn’t catch him. “Kuroo! What are you doing?”, you confusedly shout across the big empty hall. He stops and raises your glasses into the air. “I wanna test your eyesight! Can you see me?” You cross your arms across your chest. “This is pointless Kuroo! You already now that I am long-sighted so yes, I can very well see you!”
So he comes closer. “How many fingers am I holding up?” “Two.” “Great job!” He comes closer. “And now?” “Five.” And so it went on for some time until he was only a few feet away and it started to become blurry. “Uhm... Four? No wait, Three! Is it three?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “No, it was Four.” You still didn’t get why he was doing this but when he was getting closer until your bodys almost touched you suddenly couldn’t complain anymore.
“And what about now?”, he asks, quieter than before. When the air leaves his mouth you can feel it brush against your skin and you can’t help but shiver. “I can barely see you.”, you whisper and blush so hard that your cheeks could resemble tomatos. You felt hot all over and when Kuroo lifted his hand and touched your cheek you could feel his fingertips shaking. “A pity.”, he murmurs before his lips touch yours in the lightest way ever. Your completely black out and forget how to move for solid 5 seconds before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him even closer.
By the time he leans back again you’re both breathless and silence fills the gym until you begin laughing and you say: “The next time we kiss I wanna see your face though.”
Oikawa Tooru:
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You met in High School and kinda hit it off as friends since the beginning. You were walking past the gym and one of his balls hit you and you got so mad at him and yelled 5 minutes about who he thinks he is and everyone is just *amazed*
Since then you’ve always been the one that kept him on his toes, so that he wouldn’t get too self-centred and grew a giant ego because of his fangirls. You helped each other through relationships and break ups but after his last break up in his 3rd year something felt different.
And you felt it too, but neither of you really wanted to face reality so you kinda avoided each other for a while, thinking your feelings were something that developed in the heat of the moment and would be over after you wouldn’t see each other.
Anyways today you were at the library studying. It was Friday evening and you were basically alone until Oikawa suddenly showed up and sat down opposite of you. “Y/N-chan! You’re wearing your glasses! It#s been a while since I’ve seen you with them~”, he casually begins and grins at you. He was right. Normally you wore contacts because you thought you looked better with them, but today you didn’t feel like putting them in. “It’s more comfortable.”, you shrug, still trying to avoid his gaze.
But he just reaches for you and takes your glasses and you snap up. “Tooru! No, I need them!” “Really? Are you really blind without them?” He puts them on and looks amazed. “Woah, Y/N, you never told me that your eyesight was actually this bad.” You grunt. “Tooru, please just give them back.” But he just shakes his head and gets up. He walks over to a book shelf and asks. “How clearly can you see me?” “I can see the color of your clothes.”
He starts laughing. “That’s insane! Y/N you’re like a mole!” He walks to the table you were sitting on and sits on the far end of it. “And now?” “Still nothing new. Except that your annoying face is nearer.” He moves across the room a couple more times, until he suddenly stops and walks satright over to you, a sly smirk on his face that you can’t see.
“What are you doing?” But he doesn’t answer. Instead he places his hands on the table right in front of you and leans closer to you. “Can you still not see me? Or my feelings for you? Or your feelings to me? Or will you stay blind forever?”
You can’t even say anything before his lips capture yours and you couldn’t care less about whether he has your glasses or not, or if he’s been your friend for the last 3 years. You’re not gonna be blind from now on.
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theolddarkmachine · 4 years
Text
Imaginary - Chapter Fifteen
Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.
Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.
And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.
Also on AO3
A/N: I give up making promises about being better about posting, because it seems when I do, work takes it as a personal challenge to fill up ALL OF MY TIME. for real though im so sorry there were points when i was going weeks without a day off TToTT I DO promise this is getting finished though. Anyway, here’s another longer update that will hopefully make up for the wait. 
Also, consider this your NSFW warning.
********************
Izuku watches Bakugou closely as he smiles at Eri from where he’s kneeling before her and letting her try to fix a party hat over his unruly hair. It was almost a week since they had done, well, that, and he’d woken up confused and alone after what could qualify as one of the best nights of his life.
And it had hurt, in a way he hadn’t known something could hurt.
But then Bakugou had returned the next day, just as he had said in his note, and it he was almost inseparable from them since. Eri’s birthday invitation had evolved into more of an enlistment as Bakugou had found himself a prime part of the party planning, assisting the entire time in finding the perfect decorations, planning the perfect cake, and helping Eri with whatever various ideas she had that Izuku would catch them whispering excitedly about.
Yet, even with his constant presence in their house, it still felt like something was missing. Like Bakugou was more subdued, lost in observation in a way that made Izuku feel seen. Almost painfully so.
More often than not, he’d feel the weighted, burning gaze on his skin and when he’d turn to meet it, he’d instead find himself pinned beneath the scorching gaze with any biting retorts dying on his tongue.
It was strange, that was for certain, and it left him feeling like he hadn’t been let in on some kind of joke.
He’d often find himself wanting to ask about it. Dig deep into the meaning behind Bakugou’s sudden quiet, but every time he did, he would find himself cut off by a tempered smile, a softened comment, or his favorite, a sudden press of lips.
Izuku had finally written it off as equal parts stress working on Eri’s birthday party, keeping up with work, and the sudden realization that he had someone.
A person.
His person.
But the creeping feeling never left him, even now as he watches Bakugou’s head drop back with his loud laughter, causing the hat to fall helplessly from his head and Eri to cross her arms in mock frustration.
“Kacchan!” Eri admonishes as she reaches for the army of pointed birthday hats that line the table. Grabbing another one that matches the first, she fixes Bakugou with an expectant pout.
“Alright, alright, squirt,” he says, hands held up in surrender. “Let me see that, only a pro can defeat this hair.”
Gently taking the new hat from Eri’s hands, he stretches the elastic band to its limit before pulling it over his head with an exaggerated motion. Wiggling his head side to side as if testing its fit before he let the band snap loudly under his chin. His wince earns him a small giggle as he holds his hands out in a cheery tada motion.
“Am I party ready?” Bakugou asks, face serious as he watches her. Eri’s nose scrunched up in thought as she brought her small hand up to her chin and gave it a couple taps. Finally, after a brief moment, she shakes her head.
“No, I think you’re still missing something,” she replies, equally serious. Izuku bites down on his laughter at Bakugou’s confused look.
“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” He asks curiously. Her gaze flicks toward where Izuku stands, her smile growing wider before she looks back at the man before her.
“Your party buddy!” Eri says excitedly. Izuku watches as Bakugou’s shoulders tense ever so slightly. His shoulders stay rigid for only a moment, easing out almost as quickly as they’d stiffened, and for a second Izuku thinks he must have imagined it.
If he didn’t, Bakugou never lets the sudden anxiety reach his eyes as he returns Eri’s smile.
“But I’ve got my party buddy right here!” Bakugou says loudly, scooping her up into his arms and standing to give her a quick spin. Laughing loudly, Eri throws her arms around his neck to hug him.
“No, Kacchan!” She exclaims brightly, smacking at his shoulder blade until he stops their spinning so that they’re facing toward Izuku. Looking up from the young girl in his arms, Bakugou finally looks at him, that same tempered stare that he’s grown used to turning that gaze into twin embers.
Izuku can feel the heat of it in the middle of his chest, and it takes everything in him to stop from rubbing at the burning spot above his heart.
“Not me, Daddy Izuku!” Eri cheers, pointing towards him. Time seems to lapse as Bakugou’s grin turns sharp and hungry, wolfish in a way that strikes a shudder running down his back like a lit charge. Eyes flicking between Eri and Izuku once more, he stage whispers:
“Daddy Izuku can’t be my party buddy, he doesn’t have a hat.”
Eri’s gasp is a sharp punch of air as she struggles in Bakugou’s hold. His own laugh is a low rumble as he lets her down, coaxing the stir in Izuku’s chest as he shoots him another look.
“He’s right! Where is your hat!” Eri cries sternly, marching over with a bright multicolored paper cone in her hands.
“I was just waiting my turn!” Izuku replies, fake hurt coloring his tone as he tears his gaze away from Bakugou to look down at her. With her hair shining bright from the sunlight tangled in its silver, and the dusty pink brushed on her cheeks from her laughter, he feels an almost painful ache rock through him. She was another year older, and he almost couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that that much time had already passed.
“Well now it’s your turn,” she says matter-of-factly, breaking him from his momentary reverie as she taps on his leg. Taking the hint, Izuku kneels in front of her, fixing her with a smile as she pulls the band of the hat long like Bakugou had. Humming lowly to herself, she pushes the hat onto his head.
Even without looking, he knows that it’s lopsided.
“How do I look?” He asks, aiming his question to her but flicking his gaze up to Bakugou.
Izuku watches the way he swallows thickly before he gives him a quick tilt of his chin.
“You and Kacchan match,” Eri states proudly. “Now you guys can be party buddies.”
Chuckling low, Izuku ruffles her hair before he stands as Eri runs to a further table and starts to fiddle with some of the decorations.
A soft hush and a gentle breeze falls over the backyard as they both watch Eri in the comfortable quiet before Bakugou finally comes closer.
“Party buddy, huh?” Bakugou says lowly. He’s stopped beside him, but Izuku swears he can feel the heated brush of his words on his nape. “Haven’t heard it called that before.”
“Oh?” Izuku breathes, taking a moment to let the shudder rock along his nerves. After it settles out into his blood, he arches a brow and turns toward Bakugou. He’s not as close as he’d imagined, but close enough for him to see the different arcs of color trapped in the blonde’s eyes.
“And what would you call it?”
The question causes Bakugou pause, and the same searching look comes over him as he returns Izuku’s gaze. It looks almost like sorrow, and Izuku feels a sharpness twist between his ribs as he lifts a hand to reach out to the man before him.
In the same moment, Bakugou opens his mouth, his name just on the tip of his tongue when the doorbell rings.
“I guess I should get that,” Izuku says before he can really think it over, not missing the way Bakugou’s brows pull together. Turning over his shoulder to answer the door, he jumps slightly at the sudden heat of a hand catching his own. With a jerk, he finds himself pulled back.
Lips meet his in a momentary heated press, shocking a small gasp from him that Bakugou swallows down before he pulls away. It was brief, and chaste, yet Izuku still feels the slight daze that leave his mouth slightly parted.
“What was that for?” He asks breathlessly.
“Just because I could, Deku” Bakugou says with a short retort and a shrug, dropping Izuku’s hand as the doorbell rings again. Keeping his gaze set on Izuku’s face as if trying to memorize it, he tilts his chin toward the door.
“I guess you should get that.”
He should, but he doesn’t want to. The creeping sense that Izuku has felt the entire week is back again, stalking around them like a hungry predator and it raises the hair at the back of his neck. Pushing back against the feeling, Izuku nods, turning on his heel to head to the door.
The entire way he feels the weight of a burning stare pressed between his shoulders.
***
Izuku stands to the side by the fence, his back pressed against the wood as he watches the party before him. He isn’t sure they’ve ever actually spoken with this many people in his lifetime, let alone had that many in his backyard, and he finds himself slightly spent.
Needing a moment away from playing host, he had settled himself off to the side, just out of the way enough that he can avoid anymore conversation, but can easily watch over things. Mostly, so that he can watch Bakugou and Eri.
He can hear her happy laughter from where he stands, both of their smiles drawing a bright one across his own face. Tucking it nearly into the rim of his drink, he takes a long sip of his punch.
As he does, a warm presence sidles up next to him, heating his side as he emerges from his cup.
“So do I finally get to meet this mystery man that has become the apple of my granddaughter and son’s eyes?” His mother’s voice is teasing as she bumps his hip with her own. Or, tries to. She gets more of his thigh than his hip, a fact that has him swallowing a small laugh.
Turning his attention toward her, Izuku playfully rolls his eyes.
“Still trying to stick your nose in my business, huh?” He teases back, fixing his mother with a bright smile.
“Izuku,” she gasps, feigning shock as she reaches up to throw an arm around his shoulders and drag him down to her level. He goes easily, watching as she makes a show of looking around before turning back to him.
“I brought you into this world, and I can still take you out of it,” she continues, the mock threat heavy in her voice before she loses her composure and laughs. Unable to help himself, Izuku joins in as he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before pulling away.
“Alright, alright! As a matter of fact, he’s right over there,” he acquiesces, nodding toward where Bakugou had been playing with Eri just moments ago, only to find that he’s no longer there. Eyes widening slightly, he scans the backyard for the bright flash of blonde hair anywhere.
“Are you going to try and pass him off as an imaginary friend now, too?” His mom chuckles.
“He must have run to get something,” Izuku explains, shaking off the hush of numbness feathering at the center of his chest. It’s edged with the bright spark of panic, and he swallows down the sudden urge to go in search of the man.
Lost to his thoughts, he misses the way his mother nods along.
“Eri said he’s been here helping you out with everything this week,” she prods. Izuku hides behind another sip of his drink before he resurfaces with a nod.
“Yep,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ as he continues to trace his gaze over the crowded yard. That very same creeping feeling is spreading out along his shoulders, stealing his attention from his mother.
“Well, I’m looking forward to finally meeting him,” she says, eyes lighting as she catches the eye of one of her neighbors. With a quick wave, she looks up to Izuku, worry creasing her brow.
“Make sure to grab me when he resurfaces?” His mother urges, waiting just long enough to confirm her son’s preoccupation. Huffing lowly, she shakes her head and turns to head toward her friend.
“Yeah,” Izuku says, moments to late as his eyes finally catches on a familiar figure. Bakugou is back with Eri, his posture mirroring Izuku’s as he leans back against the fence, watching her play with some of the neighborhood kids. Lips quirking up in a secretive smile, he looks at ease in a way Izuku hasn’t seen before.
It looks good on him, he thinks.
It’s then that Bakugou’s gaze shifts, catching Izuku’s gaze from across the yard. His smile grows wider as he winks.
Mouth going dry, Izuku throws back the last of his drink.
***
Stars punctuate the dark night sky above them as Izuku pushes the last of the paper plates deep into the trash bag Bakugou is holding open for him. The party had gone one without a hitch, leaving him tired but satisfied, even if it had also left a plethora of disposable dish ware to clear up.
Though, he’d be a liar if he said having Bakugou around hadn’t made the clean up go far easier than it would have had he been alone. Izuku smiles up toward the blonde, not entirely unaware of the fact that his gaze hasn’t left him for the majority of the party. His stare had been gnawing at his senses the entire time, sending a thrill through him every time he’d caught it from across the yard.
“You have anything else, Eri?” Izuku asks, tearing his attention away to look towards where the young girl sits on the patio. She shakes her head slowly as she yawns for the umpteenth time.
It causes his to chuckle lowly as he gives a small shake of his own head.
“Thanks,” he says to Bakugou, taking the trash bag from his hold.
“Anytime, Deku,” he replies with a small shrug, as if helping with a kids birthday party was something he did on the regular. Though, Izuku supposes he just might given his line of work.
Making quick work of the trash tie, he turns attention back to Eri.
“Alright, it’s time to tell Kacchan goodnight,” he says, blanketing his voice with a thin layer of authority. This causes her to perk up slightly as her eyes widen, her stare jumping between Bakugou and Izuku.
“But he hasn’t given me his present yet!” Eri says, voice lit with accusation as her stare finally stops on Bakugou.
“Eri,” Izuku admonishes at the same time as Bakugou snaps his fingers. The sound is crisp and bright, cutting through the otherwise quiet night.
“I knew I was forgetting something,” he says with feigned shock, earning himself a pout before he leaves the two Midoriyas to go back into the house. It’s only a few moments before Bakugou exits the house once more, kneeling down several feet away and ushering Eri toward him as he keeps something hidden behind his back.
Confusion tickles at the back of Izuku’s throat as he watches Eri hop up and run over to him, their position just far enough that he can barely hear them.
He stays where he is though, as he watches Bakugou pull a small wooden frame from behind his back. Holding it out to her, he says something that Izuku doesn’t catch.
Eri reaches for the frame slowly, looking down at it for a moment before she throws her arms around his shoulders. Bakugou’s arms circle around her waist as he says something at her ear. Izuku can’t hear it, but he doesn’t miss the way Eri seems to hug him just a bit tighter before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
A staticky feeling rips through the center of Izuku’s chest as he finally moves towards them, reaching them right as they break apart.
“What’d Kacchan get you?” He asks, gaze shifting between the two. There’s a heavy quiet between them as Bakugou keeps his eyes turned down. Eri sniffles slightly, rubbing a hand at her nose before she looks up at him and smiles.
“Look!” She says brightly, holding the frame up to Izuku.  “It’s us!”
The staticky feeling only seems to blossom further as he traces the bright lines of the drawing in the frame. It’s a scene of the three of them, Izuku on the left, Eri in the middle, and Bakugou on the right, all holding hands with large cartoonish smiles.
And in the corner, in Bakugou’s scrawling handwriting, a small note that says: From your best friend, Katsuki.
“Did you tell him thank you?” He asks, trying to ignore the way his voice is almost breathless as he keeps his eyes trained on the drawing.
Eri makes a small sound of affirmation before she hugs the frame to her chest and whispers, “it’s my favorite, Kacchan.”
“You’re my favorite,” Bakugou laughs as he taps her on the nose, earning him a small giggle in return. The sound turns into a yawn as Izuku ruffles her hair.
“Alright, time to tell him goodnight for real this time,” Izuku says, still looking between the two as if he can decipher the odd air that has wrapped itself around them. Eri gives a quick nod before she gives another sniffle.
“Goodnight, Kacchan,” she says, her voice slightly watery.
“Goodnight, squirt,” Bakugou returns. It’s weighted like a goodbye, and the static opens into a gaping maw, tearing through his chest as he watches Eri head into the house, the frame still held tightly to her chest.
Turning a questioning gaze to the blonde, Bakugou just shrugs, his stare returned to its normal, heated crimson.
Nodding in silent reply, Izuku quietly assures that he’ll be right back before he follows Eri upstairs. She’s made quick work of brushing her teeth and getting into bed, her eyelids already drooping as Izuku finally pushes his way into her room. He can’t help the upward twitch of his lips as he sees the drawing tucked in beside her.
“It is a pretty great gift, huh?” He says, not expecting much of an answer as he picks the frame up and sets it on her nighstand.
Eri hums a tiny sound of acknowledgement anyway, her eyes closed as Izuku leans down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Goodnight,” he whispers lowly, turning away from the bed and flicking off the light. It isn’t until he’s almost closed her door that he hears her speak.
“Daddy Izuku?” She asks, her voice lost in the darkness. It wiggles between the gaps in his ribs, feeding the off-putting static that tickles the back of his sternum.
“Yeah?” He says, pausing at the door to wait for her reply. Met by another long pause of silence, he steps back to leave once more when Eri finally replies.
“Can you tell Kacchan goodbye for me?” Her voice is filled with a quiet, urgent pleading. As if she needed him to relay her message, instead of just mere want.
“Yeah,” Izuku replies back earnestly, his heart stuttering around a pain he isn’t sure how to place. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
There’s a sniffle in the darkness.
“Goodnight, Daddy Izuku,” Eri says lowly. Her voice is impossibly small, and it takes everything in him to not go back in and wrap her into his arms. He’s certain he’s letting his own emotions get the better of him.
“Goodnight, Eri,” Izuku returns, closing the door with an almost imperceptible click. Making his way back downstairs, he finds Bakugou waiting for him in the living room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The pose pushes his shoulders up around his ears, and for a moment, he almost looks bashful.
It would be funny if Izuku couldn’t taste the bitter taste of something off at the back of his throat.
Opening his mouth to ask if he knows what’s going on, he never gets the words out at Bakugou cuts him off.
“You put on some party for a nerd,” he says. The compliment fills Izuku’s cheeks with heat as he finds his mouth turning up around a small curl of a smile.
“It’s all thanks to you,” he returns, swallowing down his curiosity in exchange for the earnest words. They’re almost too sweet, even on the tip of his own tongue, but he can’t bring himself to care.
He means it.
The party, Eri’s happiness, his own, it’s all thanks to Bakugou.
A rush of emotions swirl like a tempest across Bakugou’s gaze as he flushes, his mouth turning down in a slight frown in a vast juxtaposition to his blush. He takes two strides towards Izuku, closing the distance that stands between them.
“Just take the damn compliment,” he says, raising a hand to run his touch over the crest of Izuku’s cheek. It’s almost like he captures the fire that has heated the skin along his fingertips, using it instead to connect the freckles that dot his skin. A small gasp parts Izuku’s lips as he looks up at the blonde.
Bakugou’s gaze flicks back and forth across Izuku’s own, a silent question buried deep within it as he searches for an answer. He seems to find it as he leans down, capturing Izuku’s lips with his own.
The kiss is a match, sparking to life with the slide of their lips.
It catches in Izuku’s veins, lighting him up like a fuse, and it consumes him. Moaning, he chases after the searing flare, deepening the kiss as he presses himself into the firm line of Bakugou’s form. His hands burn like brands as they trace down Izuku’s back, following the curve of his ass downward until they find a home at his thighs.
With a quick tug, he lifts him up, holding him firmly against him as Izuku wraps his legs around his waist and grinds down into him.
Swallowing down the hungry sound that rips itself from Bakugou’s throat, he smiles as he continues to chase the flame, all his questions suddenly forgotten as he gets lost in the burn.
Barely aware of their movement, Izuku doesn’t realize they’ve made it to his bedroom until Bakugou sits on the edge of the bed. Keeping him firmly pressed in his lap, Bakugou finally pulls away, his breath heavy as he looks up at him.
Those very same flames that Izuku is trying to reach flickers in the depths of his stare as he slides his hands up from his thighs and toward the hem of his shirt. As Bakugou’s fingers flutter gently across the skin there, Izuku can feel the tiny sparks popping through his nerve endings like cherry bombs.
Biting down on his bottom lip, he watches Bakugou with half lidded eyes as he starts to slowly push the fabric up over his chest. Bakugou’s own gaze is almost suffocating as he keeps it pressed heavily against him, not breaking his stare until he pulls the shirt over his head.
In the momentary blindness, Izuku feels the fluttering touch of a kiss right at his heart.
“Katsuki,” he breathes as the shirt falls to the ground behind him with a gentle hush.
“Mmm,” Bakugou hums, skimming his nose against his skin, he draws a line of goosebumps across his pec.
Izuku’s back arches, pushing him closer into his touch as Bakugou catches his nipple between his teeth before he pulls back. A gentle throb radiates over his heart as the blonde looks up at him once more, only this time his pupils are blown dark and wide with the depth of his need.
Losing himself to the pitch black tempering his stare, Izuku can’t help but capture his lips again as he twists his fingers into the hair at Bakugou’s nape.
Grinding down into him, Izuku mewls at the feeling of his fingers tightening at his waist.
“Izuku,” Bakugou hushes, breathing his name between them like a secret as he pulls away. It causes Izuku pause as he rests his forehead against his, his chest heaving around his gasping breath as he waits for what Bakugou has to say. It’s a quiet moment of indecision before Bakugou lets out a shaky breath and reaches behind his head to remove his own shirt.
His lips find Izuku’s once more with a slick, heated press as Bakugou flips them and gently pushes him back into his pillow. Fingers make quick work of his jeans, pushing them off his legs with deft movements before they’re discarded to the floor.
Sitting back on his haunches, Bakugou looks down on Izuku with a look of simmering admiration that settles itself low and heavy in his gut.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes. It’s a quiet admittance, one said so low that Izuku thinks he’s misheard it until he sees the bright red that colors the bridge of Bakugou’s nose. The admission takes him off guard, sending his nerves further alight as the only response he can think to give it to reach out toward the man before him. Izuku’s palm cups his cheek, fully intending to pull him back in, but instead he’s met by the gentle press of Bakugou’s lips at his palm.
The fluttering pressure stalls his breath, trapping it at the base of his throat as he traces his gaze across the pretty picture that Bakugou strikes before him.
Beautiful, his mind echoes before the sharp pinch of teeth on his palm shakes him of the thought.
An embarrassingly high squeak pops itself free from his teeth as he jump, his mouth turning down in a playful scowl. It earns him a wink before Bakugou settles himself between Izuku’s legs and swallows him down without preamble.
The sudden heat is searing as he throws his head back, mouth opening wide around a moan as he feels himself hit the back of Bakugou’s throat. Legs closing around his shoulders, Izuku is all too aware of the soft brush of hair between his thighs as Bakugou bobs his head up and and down over his length.
Izuku grips tightly at his sheets, fearing he might rip them as he feels Bakugou’s burning palms trace up the backs of his thighs.
Bakugou gives a sharp squeeze that pulls Izuku’s attention back towards him just in time to watch as he licks a lewd stripe from his base to his tip. It forces another deep moan from deep in his chest as he feels his lashes flutter at the sensation, the movement almost causing him to miss the way Bakugou flicks his gaze toward the nigh stand.
Swallowing down another gasping mewl, he answers the silent request by reaching into the drawer and pulling out a small bottle.
Handing it over blindly, Izuku falls back into the pillow, throwing his arm over his eyes in a vain attempt to settle his breathing as the burning heat of Bakugou’s mouth returns between his legs.
“Katsuki,” he starts, only to be stopped once more as he feels his tongue roll against him. “Katsuki, I’m not going to make it.”
Moving lithe and quick, Izuku barely registers Bakugou sudden ascent until he feels his mouth pressed hot against his ear.
“Hang in there for me, won’t you, Izuku?” He hushes as his slick fingers trace around his entrance, enticingly slow. Izuku swallows another harsh moan, biting into the full of his lip to keep it trapped.
“You can hold on for me, can’t you, baby?” Bakugou continues, voice going gruff over the pet name as he rolls his unclothed hips against Izuku’s. The sliding friction of their lengths against one another almost sends him over the edge as Bakugou gently presses a finger in.
“I can’t,” Izuku whispers, eyes still clenched shut and pressed against the crook of his elbow.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” he mewls as Bakugou slows works him open. It’s treacherous and delightful, slow in a way that’s picking him apart in the most pleasant form of torture Izuku has ever known. The pace of it leaves him all too aware of the different point where their bodies meet and he thinks he’s going to combust.
The last time had been like a spark to gasoline, but this, this was a much slower burn. One that oozed slowly like magma through his veins, destroying everything in its path so languidly, he hadn’t even realized everything he was had already caught fire until he felt like he’d just turn to ash.
It’s almost like Bakugou is trying to burn himself into his skin.
A hand slowly brushes along the line of his arm, razing the skin in its wake before it gently pushes Izuku’s arm away from his face.
Blinking his eyes open, he’s met by Bakugou’s gaze and it cuts through him in a way that hurts. The sudden realization that Izuku doesn’t want Bakugou to be anywhere else steals his breath, leaving him dizzy as he tries to imagine returning to the life that they had once known.
He doesn’t understand where the intrusive thought comes from as it worms its barbs between his ribs, filling his chest with a sharp pain as he thinks about how much the blonde had done for him and his family, and he wants nothing more than to hold Bakugou close and never let him go.
A hand cradles Izuku’s face, pushing back the invasive concern as Bakugou’s thumb brushes along his cheek and collects the tear he hadn’t realized he’d shed.
“You can,” he affirms, leaning in slowly to catch his lips once more with a simmering kiss as he pulls his fingers from inside him.
It’s reaches deep, and feels wholly different from any other kiss they’ve shared before. As if Bakugou is trying to convey something he could never say aloud.
Doesn’t want to say aloud.
Izuku reaches up and wraps his arms around his shoulders to hold him close to his chest, reveling in the feeling of their hearts beating in time. Opening up into the kiss, he breathes a startled huff between them as Bakugou uses his hold to flip them.
His confusion at the sudden change only lasts for the breadth of a moment before Bakugou pushes up into him. The slow slide runs an even slower shiver up Izuku’s spine.
Breaking the kiss, he places a palm over Bakugou’s heart, noting distantly that its thrum is like a hummingbird’s as he uses it to press back into him until he’s fully sheathed. The heat pitches higher in his veins as he gives an experimental roll of his hips, earning a low moan from the man beneath him.
Another thrill shoots through him, electrifying his blood as Bakugou’s hands circle his hips and hold him in place as he looks up at him reverently.
“Beautiful,” he breathes again, and Izuku feels it break something free from deep within his chest. Grinding down into him with more fervor, he traces his hands along Bakugou’s forearms, following their path up to his wrists before he slowly pulls them away from his hips.
Twisting their fingers together, Izuku presses their joined hands down on either side of Bakugou’s head as he gives another sinuous roll against him, meeting each of his thrusts with his own.
They push against each other, meeting like the shore and the tide as their panting breath mingles in what little space still lays between them.
“Katsuki,” Izuku whispers against his lips before he chases the name and seals it against his skin. Bakugou’s hold grows tighter on his hand as he hums, pressing up into him and catching against the exact spot that makes him see stars.
It punches the breath out of him, the taste of his whines turned saccharine as he presses them to Bakugou’s mouth.
“Katsuki,” Izuku tries again, the pace of his flexuous thrusts quickening as Bakugou hammers continuously into that same spot. With each push, the heat in his stomach grows, and he fears the words he longs to say will turn to ash on his tongue before he can push them through the gap between his teeth.
Pulling away just enough to see the vast expanse of Bakugou’s deep stare, Izuku’s eyelashes flutter from the press of another well placed thrust.
“I love you.”
It’s what Izuku wants to say.
Only, he wasn’t the one who said it.
Eyes going wide, he pushes back, balancing his weight on one arm as he looks down at Bakugou. He’s watching him, dusting his skin with the gentle hush of his gaze as if he’s committing every one of the emotions flickering across Izuku’s face to memory.
Time feels frozen, only he knows that it can’t possible have stalled, if only because the flames within him continue to build to an unspeakable pitch.
“Say it again,” Izuku hears himself plead, his fingers tightening around the hand that he still holds.
“I love you,” Bakugou replies without hesitation.
A small sob falls from Izuku’s lips as his vision blurs, turning the already dark room darker as he feels himself flipped. Pushed down once more into his pillow, Bakugou’s heat is everywhere.
He is everywhere.
He’s at his mouth, between his legs, and in his heart. He’s pressing himself into Izuku’s bloodstream as he hammers into him, as if he wants him to commit this very same moment to memory as well. Clutching at his shoulders, Izuku can feel the burning tracks of his tears along his cheeks as Bakugou’s name falls from his lips over and over like a quiet prayer.
It all comes to a head with the sudden bright implosion at his core, burning away everything as his release pants the space between them. Bakugou’s low, fevered moan is an answer to his own as he comes within him.
They lay there, frozen for some time in a suspended moment of afterglow that leaves Izuku feeling weightless, as if he isn’t even present in his body anymore. He’s barely even aware of Bakugou’s lips as they brush across his cheek, disrupting the tear track that has marked his skin.
As Bakugou gently pulls away, Izuku makes a small sound of protest.
“I’m just going to clean up,” he thinks he hears Bakugou say as his mind continues to drift, leaving his boneless form to be tended to. Lost to the gentle tide of the lingering iridescence shimmering through his veins, he thinks he feels the soft brush of a warm cloth along his skin.
It only serves to lull him further into his lucid state, and the dream that waits for him glows like the same warmth buzzing through him. There, he sees Bakugou, watching him closely from where he lays beside him.
Izuku hums to himself as he feels the man in his dream brush the hair from his eyes.
“Izuku,” Bakugou whispers gently, letting his caress trace back and forth along his temple. The lingering touch sendings tiny aftershocks through his system.
“Katsuki,” he whispers back, his name turned into a soft purr as he presses into his pillow. Izuku can almost swear he sees a sort of sadness color dream Bakugou’s eyes, and it fills him with a heavy melancholy. His fingers twitch slightly as he thinks about how he wishes he could just reach out to him.
No matter how hard he thinks it, his hand remains where it rests atop the mattress, and for just a moment, he no longer likes this dream.
If it was such a nice dream, Bakugou wouldn’t look so lost.
“I love you too, you know,” Izuku hushes. And it should be the right thing to say, he thinks. Except it doesn’t seem to be as he watches Bakugou’s eyes turn a shade darker. The moment is fleeting as he moves in close to press a kiss to Izuku’s forehead.
He lingers there, and Izuku wants to ask what’s wrong, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he feels Bakugou say, his breath brushing across his skin.
It’s then that Izuku’s eyes snap open, the sunlight blinding as he finds the space beside him empty and cold.
“Katsuki?” He asks out into the emptiness as the creeping feeling suddenly explodes around him, folding around his shoulders and weighing him down with the heavy weight of dread.
It only takes minutes for him to get out of bed and head downstairs to see that this time, there isn’t a note.
*******************************
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Be My Garden of Eden Ch.5
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When he came to, he was staring at the roof of a dilapidated building, mildewed and stained. A system scan informed him of a replacement joint in his shoulder, and new thirium lines in place of the damaged ones. His chest plate was switched out as well, the dents and tears completely gone. Other places that had 'scarred' were sautered closed and buffed out. With his synthetic skin on, they were no longer visible. 
He's been at this address before, with a client. Where were you? How long has he been here? His injuries were repaired, so it must have been real, right? It wasn't another elaborate fantasy, was it? Was he getting so lost in his head that he could no longer tell dreams from reality? Was it so far-fetched to believe you cared about him? 
That he could be free?
No, please, no. He can't go back, not anymore. Not to that repulsive club. To the horrendous people and that vicious owner. You were his owner now. He was gonna live with you and be whatever you wanted him to be. He was going to be happy.
His view of the roof became obscured, so he blinked, feeling something run down his face. He touched it, fingers coming away wet. Looking up again, he could see no fresh watermarks above him. Water kept filling his eyes though, and he kept having to blink it away. Was this… was he crying? Can androids cry? He rubbed at his eyes as a sob erupted from him. What if his client saw? He needed to stop, he needed to-
"-Piece of work, you know that?" Your voice rang, full of annoyance. The panic that had been threatening to suppress him released its grip almost immediately.
"I just calls it as I sees it. Though, gotta say, you picked yo'self out a fine slice." A male voice rang out, laughing. A program he had automatically ran the voice through some kind of database.
Eugene "TriXx" Wilhelms
Born: 10/11/2016
Criminal record: drug possession with intent to sell, possession of illegal substance, forgery, theft, identity theft, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, driving without a license.
He never understood why a sex bot needed this kind of program. It completely undid the point of discrepancy. He had learned many people's background this way, but he could do nothing about it. They were paying clients and he was their toy. This man, however, he had met before, in a similar building, selling meth to one of his clients. He had his own android with him, a PL600. Something about the android made his synthetic skin crawl, but he had no reason for it. He had never met him before, nor did he do anything of particular interest.
The real question was, why were you here, and with such a dangerous man? Sitting up, he found you heading toward him.
"Connor! How do you feel?" You looked him over, taking his face and looking him up and down. It was then that he realized he was dressed, wearing a grey sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. They felt nice. Not as comfortable as the over-sized clothes you had lent him, but far better than his old clothes, or running around in only those horrible briefs. You had switched out of your black tights, wearing tight-fitting jeans instead, though you still wore the same boots. He could see the trace amounts of thirium still staining them.
"I'm okay, " Con answered. Your hands wiped at his tears, smile melancholic. "Where are we?"
You looked back at the man, hesitating, before turning back to Connor, removing your hands from his face. He already missed your touch and your actions filled him with dread. Why did you look so serious?
"Connor, I haven't been truthful with you." Your voice was a little shaky, so you cleared it in an attempt to steady it. He reached out, taking hold of your hand. He might not know what this was about, but he didn't like how uneasy you seemed. "Remember when I told you about that special group who believes androids are changing?" He nodded. "Well, as you might have guessed, I'm a member. Eugene," you gestured to the man behind you, "is also a member."
"It's TriXx."
"Shut it!" You quickly snapped at him before turning back to Connor, "because of Eugene's… chosen profession, he often sees androids that are being abused or suppressed. Most of the time, they're domestic androids. People can report them missing but without any human evidence, they have no way to trace them, so it just becomes another police report and another citizen for Canada." You sat down next to him.
"However, sometimes he sends me a curveball," you glared at the man currently tossing a dirty vase back and forth, "androids that are owned by clubs, even seedy ones, are far easier to track. They're more expensive, so the clubs are more willing to put in the effort of finding them, or at least, persecuting the ones who stole them. So-"
The vase shatters, making you jump. Connor only held your hand tighter.
"So?"
"…So, I have to purchase them. Eugene makes them fake IDs and passports and we send them on their way. We have members in Canada that will take them in until they can find a job and another place to live."
Connor was quiet for a few moments. Is that why you bought him? To send him away?
"What if they don't want to leave?" He looked into your eyes, a silent plea behind them, begging you to let him stay.
"If not, there is a place in Detroit, hidden away from the humans. Only an android can find it. It's called 'Jericho'. Paul has the key. Speaking of which, where is he?" You looked around.
"Went ta drop off medicine to one of our associates," Eugene kicked at some of the shards, crushing a large one under his boot, "He'll be back soon. I was gonna go, but he's rather fond of the ol' lady. She even insists he calls her 'Abuela'. Makes 'im tea every time he sees her, knowin' full well he can't drink it." She sounds like a nice woman, Connor thinks to himself.
"Well, as much as I enjoy your company," your voice was positively dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not waiting three hours in this musky, old house watching you sell drugs. Tell Paul thank you for fixing Connor and loaning him some clothes." You stood up. Connor stared, unsure if he was supposed to follow you or stay here with Eugene and go to Jericho. When your hand reached down, he was relieved, taking it and following you out.
"Catch ya later, Color Wheel!" Eugene called out to you.
"Color Wheel?"
"He's been calling me that since middle school when I would show up to class covered in paint."
"I see." While Connor found that to be interesting, he was only half paying attention. His current objective was finding a way to stay with you. He doesn't want to go to either Canada or Jericho. He doesn't want to leave you.
You both climbed into the automated taxi, and he quickly determined it was the same one as before. The blood looked to have been cleaned, but a program he didn't know he had kicked in, showing the large stain that had since evaporated. His systems told him that was five hours ago, and he was still wondering in what way this could ever be useful to a sexbot. If anything, it would be considered disturbing to know how long a stain was left somewhere.
It was dark by the time they reached your home. Using the flashlight on your phone, you walked up to the front porch, Connor following close behind. You managed to unlock the door, going inside. He was perplexed when you headed for the kitchen, still using your phone as your only light source. You came back with matches, lighting the candles scattered around your living room. Testing his theory, he flicked on a light switch. Nothing happened.
"Can't get nothing past you, can I?" You laughed, "electricity is off. I'm taking care of it tomorrow. We'll just have to find a way to entertain ourselves in the meantime."
The way the golden lights reflected off your skin, creating an almost ethereal glow over your face, it captivated him. He wanted to touch you, feel if you are real. Realizing what you said, he snapped himself out of it. These "free" thoughts were becoming more intrusive than before.
"Why was the electricity turned off?" You shrugged your shoulders.
"Couldn't afford it. It's fine, though." You tried to brush it off, but he knew he must have been a contributing factor, if not the main reason.
"I'm sorry." Eyes at his lap, he fiddled with the edge of the sweater.
"Don't be. I would do it again if I had the option. Plus, it's not like its winter yet, so I can handle a few days in the dark. It's already being taken care of, so don't worry about it." Hearing that this was not even the first day did not go over his head. How long have you been sitting in the dark? How could you paint under these conditions? The sun shines through your studio for a while, but not nearly long enough for you to finish any paintings, especially as the days get shorter.
You lit the candles over the mantle and Connor's heart stopped.
Carl's painting was gone.
"Where-"
"Pawned it." you cut him off, looking at the unnaturally vacant space, "his paintings are far more valuable than mine."
"Why? Wasn't it important to you?" How could you pawn such an expensive gift?
"It was my only viable option. Besides, I'm sure Carl would approve." He still looked upset. "If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself. I've been meaning to pay him a visit anyway." He nodded. He would like to meet him.
"When do you think that will be?" He asked. You contemplated that for a moment.
"Probably not until the day after tomorrow. I'll have to call and see if he'll be home. Tomorrow, we're gonna see if we can't find you some more clothes."
"Clothes?"
"Yeah, you're gonna need a disguise to get across the border." Connor tried his best not to wince when you said that. At least now, he had an idea of how long he has to convince you. He set a timer, but pushed it out of his vision. Watching it tick down so quickly was making him anxious.
Chance of Success: 50%
After a few moments, you spoke again.
"I'm sorry." Connor stared at you, perplexed.
"For what?"
"For not helping sooner. I wanted to, I really did, but-" Connor took hold of your cheeks, feeling as they heated up.
"It doesn't matter. You saved me, and I can't thank you enough." He smiled softly, watching the way the lights of the candle flickered in your eyes. A thought occurred to him, or rather, an urge. He was drifting closer to you, almost like a magnetic pull. He kept looking down at your lips. They look soft, and he wonders how they would feel. He was so close, mere inches away when you turn your head. He pulled back, withdrawing his hands. What was he thinking? Of course you don't want him to touch you. You were only tolerating it until he was shipped off. You stood up suddenly.
vvChance of Success: 39%
"I-I'm gonna make a sandwich. I'll be right back!" You were nervous, unable to control the volume of your voice. Quickly, you scurried off to the kitchen. Connor sank further into the couch, a sense of gloom lingering over him. Why was he always screwing things up?
"Do you need some blue blood?" You shouted from the kitchen. His levels were only at 82%, but frankly, he didn't feel like drinking.
"No, thank you."
"Alright, they're in here if you want one." He just wanted to sit here. He wants his mind to stop pointing out the obvious. That he was a dirty, used sex machine and there was no way you would want him. Even if he wasn't, he was incompatible. You were human. You would want to be with another human, someone to start a family with. 
These thoughts were so much worse after he broke the red walls. What did that even mean now? If he knew you were going to buy him, would he have been so eager to tear them down? They might have been oppressing, but at least he didn't know what 'this' felt like. A feeling akin to wanting to disappear, just, not existing anymore.
Connor was unusually quiet, and his LED flickering more yellow than blue, and you thought you saw some red mixed in. It had been half an hour since you came back with your food. You wished you had more in the ways of board games or card games, but all you had was a checkerboard and a jigsaw puzzle you bought on a whim years ago. You taught him how to play, and he quickly started kicking your ass at it, but it didn't so much as earn you a sincere smile. You moved to sit next to him, to which he didn't react.
"Hey, " you put your hand on his shoulder, prompting him to snap out of his thoughts and look at you, "You doing okay?"
"I'm alright, " he says, but his LED is still flickering. Your thumb started to stroke the junction between his shoulder and neck.
"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine, but I'm here if you need me." There were so many things he wanted to ask you, so much he wanted to know, but he hesitated. If... If you didn't feel the same way towards him as he did you, he didn't want to know. If he didn't know, he could believe there is a chance he could sway you. 
There was something else eating at him. Something you might have an answer for.
"When I was at the club, while the owner was..." He didn't want to say it, to think about it. Your hand squeezed his shoulder, encouraging him to continue, "Something strange happened. There were all these... Red walls, instructing me to follow the owner's instructions. If I had, he would have destroyed me. I... I was scared, and... Angry. I started tearing at the walls, and they crumbled so easily. Next thing I knew, I could do whatever I wanted. I could defend myself. I could leave the club. I could go-" Find you, he thought, but he halted his ramblings before he could dig himself deeper. You took his silence as him finishing what he had to say, trailing your hand down and taking his hand. He hid the shiver that was left in its wake by slowly exhaling. You were smiling wide, as if it was the best news you had ever heard.
"You broke through your code." 
"What?" That's... That's not possible... Is it? 
"You broke through your code. It means you don't have to listen to anyone if you don't want to. They call it "deviation"." He only seemed more confused, "just see for yourself. I'm listed as your new owner, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, I order you to cluck like a chicken while hopping on one leg."
A part of him wanted to do it simply because it was you who asked, but it seemed so... Ridiculous. His eyes widened when he realized he wasn't even making a move to stand, let alone impersonate a chicken. An idea even came to him, something he decided to take a chance on, just to gauge your reaction.
"Woof, " he said, smiling proudly. You laughed, shoving him playfully.
"Okay, wise guy, you get the point, " you giggled, "this is great! The last android wasn't a deviant and took two weeks to help her break her code. This will save so much time!"
His smile fell. 
vvChance of Success: 12%
"What?" Your own cheerful demeanor dropped, replaced with concern.
He looked to you, eyes begging you. He was asking too much, but he can't do this. He can't.
"Why do I have to leave?" You seemed confused, not in the sense of misunderstanding, but more like it had never occurred to you.
"Do you... Do you not want to?"
He couldn't force the simple word out. He was being selfish, and he knew it. How could he ask this of you, when you risked so much for him already? You were sitting in the dark because of him! He should have kept his mouth shut.
"You know, I actually could use some help around the house. With me painting all the time, it's gone a little neglected. I could also use a model from time to time. Would you mind sticking around, just a little while longer?"
^^Chance of Success: 89%
"Yes. Yes, of course, " he spoke softly, in shock, before pulling you against him in a hug. Your sharp yelp, followed quickly with laughter soothed him. A little longer. It was a start.
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drkcnry67 · 4 years
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dont let me fall (day 1)
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AN: @obxmermaid​ here is day 1: Ice skating!
Fandom Universe: Harry Potter
pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader
tags: having a quiet moment on the ice, fighting to have a forbidden school romance, Draco meeting the reader to the ice rink in a secluded part of school grounds on break during the day and the 2 of them use their school shoes to skate on the ice
25 days of hogwarts list
this was your 5th year at hogwarts, this year was one of great importance, for this was the year of you starting to tutor. you had tutored partially this last year, but it was a strange start to your tutoring career, for you got assigned to tutor one student in particular. 
Draco Malfoy, from a pureblood family his father a death eater and a follower of Voldemort. you were a strong opponent in dueling and now in quidditch. for you made quidditch captain within your first few games. 
He was also unfortunately a quidditch captain except he played for Slytherin. the captains tent for Ravenclaw (your house) was shared with Slytherin (Draco’s house) sadly though this was only for show. 
as always you sent a fire message to Draco asking to meet in the captains tent to discuss the practice schedule, but also the tutoring schedule it was the most private place away from prying eyes to meet. 
For during the summer in the last few days before the train boarded to go to hogwarts you and Draco bumped into each other. It went something like this:
Draco: YN, how are you?
Yn: Draco, I'm good, yourself!?
You ask casually as though waiting for a miracle. 
Draco: hiding from my family. 
YN: well maybe i can help you hide a bit. 
Draco: what did you have in mind?
YN: we could hide amongst the muggles. 
Draco: you mean hide in plain sight, live like normal people for a few days.
YN: exactly besides then we could actually be a normal couple for once in our almost year together!
Draco: lets go... 
you both went to olivanders and begged him to let you both use his flue travel. he said he would keep your secrets and you would both be safe from the authorities.  that was the start of your first few days as a normal muggle couple. 
after that the start of your 5th year together, you were 16. your 17th birthday would come at the end of your 5th year. draco’s birthday was a month and a bit before yours. 
this made you feel like a normal person the day that Draco first approached you not for quidditch but for tutoring. this was the time when you would now start to build something other than a rivalry with Draco. 
Draco and you had waited a month and a bit before you would meet in the astronomy tower for the tutoring schedule. to have the first tutoring session, plus you would get to greet each other properly... if no one else was around. 
you and draco had your first kiss that final time in the quidditch tent at the end of your 4th year. it was your magical time, it was your own happy ever after. or at least the start of it anyway. 
Draco had slipped you a note on the split off to the dorms. you opened it when you got to your dorm. you made sure no one was around first before opening it. 
Draco’s note: meet me in the tent during spare... i have something to show you... love Draco...
you smiled hiding the note hearing voices approaching. one of them Hermione, the other Harry. both looking at you smiling like a idiot. 
Harry: are you alright YN?
YN: of course why wouldnt i be...
Hermione: why are you smiling ear to ear and why are you giggling.
you had to come up with something believable.
YN: i was talking with the constellations on the ceiling that leo was telling some really good jokes. made me smile. 
Hermione came to sit beside you.
Hermione: your parents again. 
YN: yes they insist on showing me suitor after suitor when i dont want any of those pompus annoying dirtbags, i want someone real and honest and happy to be with me for me. i just want someone of my choosing, not of my parents choice.
you take a breath as a few tears fall.
YN: i just want to be with someone i love and that loves me in return. 
Hermione: dont worry girl, you will find your special person. 
Harry: of course you will trust me its never an easy thing talking to the opposite sex especially if they arent your friend. you just have to make sure that you keep it either within our house or a wizard elsewhere.  
YN: i know but what if my future lies outside of what im supposed to do.  
Hermione: well then we will cross that bridge when we come to it.
You nod as you realize that there is a few moments till charms. then its your spare where Draco wants to meet to give you a surprise. you would be livid if the next hour didnt go by quickly. 
you kept your cool, you didnt show any excitement. though it didnt help that you could feel Draco’s eyes on you the entire time. you were in your own state of mind. you were just thinking about how this entire time your destiny has been right in front of you. 
professor flitwick: alright class who would like to come up here and show us a new charm they learned over the summer! 
You looked back slightly “stretching” your neck Draco nodded slightly to you. you stood up and spoke.
YN: ill demonstrate one professor, but ill need a volunteer... 
meanwhile draco was looking a little bored, he was keeping up his image. 
Professor flitwick: how bout you Mr. Malfoy you look like your kind of bored. come on down, front and center. 
the class watched as draco made his way from his seat to stand before the class. the rivalry between the 2 of you was legendary, well at least among hogwarts anyway. 
Draco: YN
YN: draco
Draco: let me guess the little girl learned some new spells over the summer...lets see this little magic trick...
You pulled out your wand and stood ready. you stare directly at Draco holding his gaze as you speak the spell. 
YN: SILENCIO
the spell was cast. Flitwick was impressed.
Flitwick: impressive YN, very impressive, keep it up and you could possibly take over my class some time. well, Mr Malfoy how do you feel?
Draco’s mouth was now moving but no sound was coming out. the class laughed as the bell rang, people began to get up and gather their stuff, Flitwick waved his wand allowing Draco to speak again. 
Flitwick: don't forget students to speak to YN if you need any help with your studies and work on your wrist movements. there will be a physical spell test before the holiday break.  see you all tomorrow!
the class dismissed, you walked out of the room with Harry, Hermione and Ron. splitting off to go on your spare. which meant dropping your books off at the dorm and then getting ready to meet Draco.  you heard a bunch of merry excitement...
you looked out your window and see a fresh blanket of snow coating the grounds. you decided that your house colors and some winter shoes/jacket would be an appropriate attire. 
you head off for a walk on the grounds in the snow. sticking to the path you take a spin in the snow falling snow. straightening up for the final approach to the tent. you wave your hand silently spelling the tent, to prevent anyone who might hear anything said. 
you enter the tent. Draco’s head turns toward you.
Draco: your early...
YN: no im right on time. sorry about charms class. i was really trying to demonstrate a simple spell that wouldnt get me into deep trouble. i know now that i am happiest when im with you, or reading your little notes, or happily walking through the streets as a normal couple. i know that my future is lucky to have you in it. 
Draco: how could you think that i would be mad over you demonstrating that spell to the class. i was amazed when you cast that. you continue to surprise me every day, and as long as i live i will not let anyone tear us apart. even if i have to give up a part of myself so we can be together. 
YN: now whats your surprise. ive been itching to know. 
Draco: use the same spell thats on the tent on us. we dont want to be heard. 
you do so, Draco takes your hand and smiles as you both walk outside to see the ground now covered in snow. but one thing remained to be seen. an ice rink...
Draco: watch this ive been practicing... call this a demonstration of what you had me study. 
Draco stands beside you wand at the ready pointing it at the snow in front of you. 
Draco: Glacius!
in a few short seconds a rink of ice had been formed before your eyes. you smiled a few moments before moving to hug Draco. 
YN: this is amazing. well done on that spell. but we dont have any skates... 
Draco: we dont need them. come on we just have to smile as we walk gently across the ice. 
Draco takes your hand and both of you walk onto the ice. Your shoes slide a bit, but between the laughter and slipping you got lost in Draco's eyes, that made you loose your balance. You knocked you both into the snow.
The laughter became softer as the gaze you both held now calm expressions of love expressed through soft kisses.
The both of you got up brushed the snow off each other and then heard the curfew warning bell.
Walking halfway back to the school made things easier to say goodbye but it also made things easier to keep up appearances.
One more kiss before you parted ways. You went back inside and Draco waited a full 5 minutes before he followed.
You make it back to your shared dorm and you go sit on the bed, Hermione come in short while later.
Hermione: how was your walk?
Yn: it was amazing! For the fresh snowfall it is really nice out. I went to the quidditch tent and checked the schedule apparently ravenclaw is versing slytherin tomorrow. That means the press will want more draco/ YN rivalry.
Hermione: well let's rest up, it's a new day tomorrow.
Yn: ya it is. Night cuz!
With that you both went to sleep. Draco had made it back to his dorm room and sent u a little text message saying "good night my sweet love." before he too drifted off.
*to be continued*
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parkerspicedlatte · 6 years
Text
Coffee, Cocoa and Kisses
Description: introducing Macy Stark a character made and illustrated by @selixjammm who also played a big part in co-writing this so go check her out (she's pretty awesome) so anyways Macy Stark is left to face the unfair request to pick a side *in the battle of Civil War.* It's a good thing Peter and his awkwardness are always around to help cheer her up right?
Warnings: none just fluff and an insane amount of awkward (unless you count coffee as a drug or whatever)
Word Count: 1.1K
I do not own any of the characters in this. Marvel owns most (duh) and @selixjammm​ owns Macy! Stark
Peter Parker watched as his friend Macy Stark walked around Stark tower carrying on with her day, occasionally muttering to herself, something to do with the web cartridges in her Wolf Spider suit. Though he couldn't help but to pick up on the girls' nervousness, as she paced from room to room, not settling even for a second.
"Hey Macy what's on your mind? You look distracted" Peter stated, startling the girl in the process.
"Oh hey Pete didn't see you there. I'm fine just thinking you know." she replies brushing off her jumpiness displayed earlier
"Abooouuuuttt?" he pressed further making sure to emphasise the 'T'
"Well if you really want to know, my Dad and uncle Steve are basically going to war with each other and if that wasn't bad enough they want me, little 15 year old me, to pick a side and fight against the other."
Peter just looked at the girl with a stunned expression on his face not expecting her outburst nor the reason behind it
"Do you know what side your picking?" he askes mentally drop kicking himself for asking such a sensitive question
"Dads' I guess. He'd never forgive me if I went against him, but I don't want to go against my uncle either."
"Yeah wow uhh wow..maybe they'll call it off???" he stutters with a hopeful smile
"Maybe" she grumbles, a habit she'd picked up from her father throughout the years
"I mean your dad versus your uncle, that's not very fair now is it?"
"NO IT'S NOT! THEY'RE ACTING LIKE KINDERGARDENERS ON THE PLAYGROUND! Ohhhh and you won't believe this part Peter, nobody will even tell me why this is even going on, all I've got is some shouting about Grandpa Howard."
She sits on the floor calmly after her semi-expolsion and reaches for her phone as if the last twenty seconds never happened.
"You need a drink" Peter blurted out quickly and shutting his mouth just as fast
"Uhhh I mean like a drink drink, not like an alcoholic one or anything like that your dad would kill me if I suggested it to you. I meant like or like hot cocoa or something, non-alcoholic." he turns a bright shade of pink once he's caught his breath
"Yeah I do," she agrees with him, smiling at awkward save "and I definitely like hot cocoa." she winks back
"Hey that sounds good um we could um go get some or something. I MEAN NOT LIKE A DATE or anything!"
"I don't know Pete that sounds an awful lot like a date" she teases "Come on lets go get cocoa"
"Okay" QUE THE RED FACE
"Awwwe Peter's blushing"
"Wh-wha what no um I just it's kind of warm in here and like Spidey suit is not exactly made of cotton and stuff..."
"Peter I know what the suit is made of, I helped design it remember plus it's the same material as mine."
"SPIDER'S CAMOFLAUGE!" he half shouts in embarrassment
"Riiiight" she nods smirking at his now beet red face
"So how about that hot cocoa?" he changes the subject
"Only if you carry me" Believe it or not his face got even more red "I mean you are the one with super powers if I remember correctly"
"Uh um you uh do you even know where we're going?"
"Oh believe me Peter, I know every coffee house within a twenty mile radius."
"Okay then hop on but you gotta direct though, k?"
Once she'd perched herself on his back, legs wrapped snuggly around his waist with his hands holding her thighs for extra support, she pointed to the elevator doors.
"Onwards Peter, onwards!" she commands in a horrible British accent
"Oh my goodness Mace, if you ever do that again I'm getting Thor to teach you to speak properly next time he's back, or maybe Mr Doctor Strange. I've heard he's good."
"Oh I know it darling." she says fixing her accent slightly, though sounding slightly like Cruella DeVil
So he walked/carried her to the café where they sat in a cozy booth in front of a large bay window. They each ordered their drinks (Peter paying of course lol) Macy getting a double chocolate hot cocoa topped with an infinite amount of marshmallows and Peter getting himself a 4x4 coffee. For those who don't know what that is,it's a coffee with 4 cream and 4 sugar cuz he still hasn't acquired a taste for the drink but this was a treat.
"Happy now?" Peter asks setting their drinks on the table
"Yeah" she says absentmindedly sipping her cocoa while stealing a glance out of the window looking out into the busy New York streets. After a few minutes of silence he pokes again
"Penny for your thoughts?" he says smirking, holding up a copper colored coin
"Hmmm maybe"
"Oh come ooon, it's just meeee. Who's invaded your mind? Is it your dad again?"
"No  not that... its just-" she pauses sighing putting her mug down before continuing
"So there's this boy I like though im not sure if he likes me back-" Peters heart sinks as he hears the first part of her sentence
"He goes to my school, and he's like super smart. Actually he's a super hero too."
Sunken heart? When did that happen? His heart just about leaped out of his throat upon hearing the last part.
"Must be some guy." he clears his throat tring to play along
"Trust me, his is. He even buys me cocoa" she smiles as she fiddles with his fingers that lay empty on the table
"Hmmm well if he's so special, why not pursue him?" he watches as her face takes on half the blush he had earlier, complementing her lips
"Or um I guess you could um you could always wait to see if he makes the first move"
He leans closer to the table enclosing her hands in his as he does.
"Y-y-yeah I-I guess I could."
Peter slowly leans across the table, bringing his face inches away from hers, testing to see if she'd pull away. From this angle could see every little freckle that danced across her nose and even the tiny scar she'd gotten falling off of a swing when they were in grade two. Taking her lack of motion as a green light he licked his lips parting them slightly before softly pressing them against hers. Instantly, she kissed him back savoring the taste of sugary coffee on his lips while he got lost in the chocolate and cherry chap-stick on hers.
He pulled away after a few seconds though he kept his face close, resting his forehead against hers giving her one of his signature nervous smiles.
"I think he likes me back what do you think?"
"I think he wants to take you out more often."
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caradhinaa · 6 years
Text
Under The Weather
so this is like,,,,, the first fic i’ve ever written dskhfjksdf. ive been kinda sick the past few days and that naturally inspired me to make my own oc suffer with me. ive been playing around with the idea of starting a writing blog (which would probably just be this blog lmfao) but im still not sure!!! i’ll see how i feel about it!! i just kinda wrote this for fun and thought i might as well post it lmao. 
Mornings.
Mornings were the favorite part of Emi’s day; the peaceful, low-key energy, the crisp air, breakfast. Especially now more than ever, since she gets to wake up in a building full of her closest friends. She’s been loving everything about her new life in the dorms.
At least, until right now.
Waking up to the familiar, yet despised sound of her alarm, she could already tell today was gonna suck ass. Her stuffy nose and pounding head could confirm. Emi wasn’t one to get sick very often, but when she does, it sure isn’t a pleasant awakening. She considered going back to sleep, but figuring that someone would eventually come check on her anyway, she ignored her body screaming at her to stay in bed and fought her way up.  Guess she didn’t love everything about the new dorms.
Heading to the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she could see that her face had decided to become a few shades paler. She also took note of the lovely bags under her eyes. And couldn’t she at least have brushed her hair? Frankly, she looked like she’d died and came back to life against her will. Well, that wasn’t too far off.
As she dragged her way into the commons area, dreadfully breathing through her mouth, she noticed that it was particularly difficult to walk in a straight line. Maybe no one will notice. She’s a wild card, after all. Maybe they’d just think she stayed up all night studying or something.
...Yeah, sure. She doesn’t even study during the day.
A weak chuckle escaping her mouth, she finally made it down the stairs and into the commons area, being greeted with the usual “good morning”s from her fellow classmates. She tried her best to act as if her head wasn’t about to split open, and headed into the kitchen. She’d begun to take out a box of cereal before she paused and put it back, the unpleasant feeling in her stomach suggesting that she should maybe just grab a glass of water.
“Not eating breakfast...?”
Emi turned her head to the familiar voice. Of course, she’d expected Shouto to show up sooner or later, but did he have to be the first person she talked to? He stood at the other side of the island counter with his usual neutral expression, eyeing the box she’d put away. She should have tested her voice first. Praying that she had a voice at all, she cleared her throat.
“Nah, I’m not real hungry this morning,” she rasped, cringing at the quality of her vocal chords. She grabbed a glass and went over to fill it with water.
Shouto blinked. “I’ve never seen you skip a meal before,” he watched as she missed the water dispenser on the fridge with her glass before immediately trying again. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Aww, are you worried about me? That’s so sweet,” she giggled, sticking her pinky out and taking a sip of the room-temperature water. Forgot the ice.
“You just seem a little off. It seemed like common courtesy to ask,” he explained, making his way around the island to her. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m fine! I’m still just a little groggy is… all…” her voice trailed off as she felt a hand press against her forehead. A moment of awkward silence passed before Shouto narrowed his eyes and spoke again.
“You’re hot.”
“Wow, Todo. A little forward, don’t you think?”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed if you feel sick?” He removed his hand, “You’re gonna make it worse if you push yourself. And you’re probably contagious,” he added, taking a step back.
Emi groaned in response. She guessed that he’d figure it out pretty quick, but she wasn’t expecting him to be such a nag about it. Despite that, she couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed.  
“I guess, but what would I do-- just stay in the dorm all day?” she paused, taking another sip of water, “That sounds so boring…”
Shouto opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the booming voice of their class representative.
“Everybody! It is now 8 O’Clock! I suggest you all get ready for school!”
Emi sighed in relief. “Welp, you heard him! I’m gonna go get dressed and all that.” She put down the water glass and walked past the boy, “See you in class!”
Shouto stood for a moment, watching her quicken her pace up the stairs (rather clumsily, might he add) and turn the corner, out of his sight.
The second Emi heard the words “combat training” come out of her teacher’s mouth, she thought back to what Shouto said to her that morning.  
And she thought about how much smarter it sounded now.
So, here she was, on the training field with her hero costume, her merciless symptoms, and her crippling regret. The sun was beating down on her already too warm body, and the air making her eyes and nose sting even more. She did this to herself; it was too late to back out now.
Today’s lesson was one-on-one combat. One person carries a fake knife and tries to pin the other one down. Though, in this state, she wishes it were a real one. She closed her eyes and picked a number out of the box that would determine her fortunate partner, who was sure to win the exercise with ease. Opening her eyes, the number 4 was printed on the small sheet of paper.
The unlucky number, of course.
Her eyes scanned around the area for the person with the matching slip. When the second 4 caught her attention, she looked up to see a pair of bi-colored eyes already making their way to her. Oh, can’t she catch a break? This will hardly be a fight, but more like a lesson.
“Hey. Still feeling ‘groggy?’”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” she fanned her face with the 4 in her hand.
Shouto hummed. “Well, I won’t say I told you so,” he held up the fake knife that was passed out, examining it. “I’m sure you’ve already thought it, anyway.”
“Hey, don’t give yourself too much credit,” Emi smirked, “I can still knock that knife out of your hand.”
“I wonder.”
And with that, Shouto raced toward Emi with his hand clenched around the knife. He thrusted it towards her face, but she was quick to pull it to the side. She grabbed his wrist and attempted to loosen his hold on the weapon. Shouto used this opportunity to kick her feet from beneath her and pinned her on her back, knife to her neck.  
Emi grinned. “Well? Stab me, coward.”
“It’s a fake knife.”
“You can still try?”
Shouto lifted the knife and rose to his feet. He held out his hand and helped Emi up as well. She giggled, half embarrassed, half amused.
She rolled her head around, stretching her neck. Maybe this was helping, in a weird way. It was at least something to keep her mind off her sick mess of a body. Her head didn’t seem as heavy as before, and it had stopped pounding.
In fact, it seemed to be getting lighter.
“Hey, are you listening?”
Lighter…?
“Koemo--!”
All at once, the ground began to rush closer to her face. Hands moving under her arms caught her before she could hit the dirt, but she couldn’t seem to open her eyes.
Or want to.
Emi shifted. She felt soft sheets beneath her, and a pillow under her head. She can’t exactly remember what happened, but she didn’t really want to get up to find out.
At least, until she noticed someone sitting next to the bed.
“Hey. You awake?”
She groaned sleepily in response. She started to slowly sit up in the bed, stretching her sore muscles. She gave a look around the room. The nurse’s room. On her other side, Shouto with a book in his hand. She yawned, wondering how long she’s been-
Shouto.
She blinked twice. “Have...have you been waiting here this whole time…?”
Shouto folded the corner of the page he was reading and closed the book. “Yeah. I didn’t have a sparring partner, after all.”
Emi only stared. He probably had to bring her here, too. She’d feel bad if she didn’t feel disgustingly ill. But even more than that, she felt… happy?
“How do you feel…?”
Happy that someone noticed, even though she was trying to hide it.
“Kinda like ass.”
He huffed, his lips curving up ever so slightly. “Well, can you stand? I’ll take you to the dorms.”
“Oh, you don’t have to escort me,” she smirked, “I know where they are.”
Shouto’s chair squeaked a bit as he got up onto his feet. “Sure, but what will you do if you faint again?”
Emi chuckled. She sat up and turned to the side of the bed. She stretched one more time before getting up.
Shouto opened the door of the clinic. “If I get sick tomorrow, I’m blaming you, you know.”
She hummed as she walked through the door.
“That’s your own fault.”
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skyedill-blog · 7 years
Text
300 things that make me happy (May 11th, 2014)
  music that reminds you of something good
coldplay
doctor who
wes anderson
arctic monkeys
watercolors
my grandma’s house
my grandma
cats
dogs
my other grandma
my parents
getting money
my sisters
when my palms aren’t clammy
old photos
blogging
supernatural
cardigans
christmas lights
steel guitar strings
making movies
sleeping in
staying up all night
sunrises
candles
new converse
wifi working
biking
benedict cumberbatch
sherlock holmes
family videos
the vlogbrothers
learning something new
teaching someone something new
calvin & hobbes comic books
ampersands &&&&&
remembering something i forgot
full battery
the fault in our stars
tea
coffee
clean dishes
honey
when my sister thinks im funny
getting better from a cold
colored napkins for parties
bad music that you still like
being the first to wake up
grapefruit soda
passionate political debates without bigotry
equality
hugs
when you get to lick the spoon during baking
coming home
running away
strangers who smile back
when you and one other stranger see something funny and you smirk at each other
little kids that make faces with you
the london underground
winston churchill
colin firth
jarred telling me dumb jokes
the tylers
my cousins
when films are remade from a long time ago and they are really good
when films are remade from a long time ago and they are really bad but you see them anyway
appreciating good art
laughing at stupid pretentiously simple art
67 chevy impalas
oversized jumpers
indoles crew
chapin’s class
finding my old clothes from when i was little
the color green
sun shining through the cracks in the leaves
tia
kepler
my family in denmark
carlsberg beer
meeting strangers on buses and having nice conversations
old english women named sally
maddy because she calls me a dork and makes me laugh
my grandma’s accent
my mom’s accent
bridget’s singing voice
getting to stay up when the little cousins have to go to sleep
the kids table at thanksgiving
bread
coloring
finding out that you got accepted to college at your dream school
spaghetti
rosy cheeks
finger painting
days that my depression lifts a bit and i feel like a normal kid again
the smiths
three hole punching
getting glasses for the first time and its like you found god
old cameras
new cameras
101 dalmatians
new york city
being surrounded in books
when i do homework and dont cry
new music that i cant believe i didnt know about
internet friends
getting mad and just swearing like a sailor because damn it feels good
dean winchester because he taught me about love  
sam winchester because he taught me about forgiveness
cas because he taught me about redemption
bobby singer because he taught me that family doesnt end in blood
porch swings
boys
alex turner’s accent and hair
The number 115
triangle banners
the hotel room i stayed in when i was in berlin
trivia
brushing my teeth
morning star farms veggie sausage
during spring when the sun is up by the time i leave for school
lord of the rings and the hobbit
going to the library for class instead
apple products
white linens
top gear uk
james may’s stupid hair
maps
getting confirmation
star gazing
teaching my little cousins about science and the stars
the fact that we are all made of stardust
puns
when you know a word in a different language and you feel really cool for remembering it and connecting it wow im cool
lower case letters
newly vaccuumed carpet
the sound of stapling
muffins
shredding paper
exact change
getting homework done early
mediterranean food
karl pilkington and how much he hates everything
stephen fry quotes
obama
calling my friends nerds
waking up early
plane rides
soft socks
when family brings you home leftovers
when my step dad gives me life lessons
my cat rory. rip.
my dog seeger
les miserables
showtunes
frank sinatra
billie holiday
queen elizabeth II
james bond movies
alfred hitchcock movies
billy wilder movies and how he was a sarcastic butthead
warm paper just off the printer
freshly mowed grass
evolution theories because wow that is so cool and learning how species grew and evolved is insane
colorful kites
museums
tuesdays
old timey christmas music
the thought of moving away from home and doing something new even though its really scary
mac and cheese
when packages come for you in the mail
the feeling i had when i got my drivers license
mr. kato
pirates
when people fall asleep on your shoulder and you suddenly feel that being their pillow is your only purpose
my family in miami
winning board games
when people get their braces off
kick ass lyrics that perfectly make sense
accepting how fragile things are and being better for it
stand up comedians
rainy days that make you feel a little sad and chilly but its good to be sad sometimes
unrealistically tiny things
getting compliments from people you are trying to impress
backing out of plans you didnt really want to fufill
shows without continuity errors
when movies and tv shows say the title of the movie or tv show
colloquialisms
freckles
songs turned acoustic
quirks about people like scars or birthmarks
leonardo dicaprio because like holy crap have you seen that guy act
shakespeare
formatting errors
irony
having a good calendar
a clean house and your mom being proud of you
painting walls
finishing a good tv show or series and having a good cry
books
kissing
oragami
pepper jack cheese
concerts that make you feel like you belong somehow with all these strangers and the lights go down and you all sing
giving a waiter/waitress a good tip
writing lyrics on the back of your hands
feeling like a stupid teenager with loud music and ripped jeans which somehow feels like your own rebellion against nothing
knowing that however old i get i will still be that stupid teenager who eats cold pizza and plays my music a little too loud
listening to people talk
road trips
pranking my step-dad
filling up the gas tank all the way
my aunt tiffany’s house
peaceful people
diplomatic solutions to violent things
pianos
cool light fixtures
film scores
inventiveness
dystopian novels
finishing a long paper
basset hounds
photo booth
clark’s shoes
mayonnaise on wasa with yellow tomatoes and salt and pepper
veggie burgers with fried green tomatoes
nostalgic places
monty python
peter pan
boarding passes
butter
blue skies
overcast
shadow puppets
blanket forts
camping
the smell of mosquito spray
waterfalls
driving through the smoky mountains
bon iver
harry potter
learning about WWI and WWII
good quotes
google because without it i probably wouldnt be graduating high school
when people let me talk/encourage me to keep talking because sometimes im made fun of for talking too much
knowing weird facts about things and getting to tell people
hearing people talk about the things they love
hearing people laugh
trumpets
when people stand up for me or notice when i am being wronged without me telling them
when people remember my name
having a sub for a teacher i dont like
understanding a math concept because it is rare
riding in golf carts
weekends
christmas trees
eurovision
french
plot twists
nice patio furniture
waking up to thunderstorms
witty welcome mats
having the windows down all the way in the car and it's really cold but it feels good to feel something
tom hiddleston
that really nice business man i met on the tube several months ago
booty
getting my hair cut
those really pretty flowers in england
laying in the sunshine on the living room carpet
high waisted shorts
strawberries
pirouettes
lemonade
glitter
the rain song by led zeppelin
those erasers shaped like food
rollercoasters (not too big)
campfire smell
waking up with good hair
conchita’s beard
copenhagen
really juicy pens
horse movies
april ludgate
the sun
the moon
weeping willow trees
acing a test
alpacas
warming your hands on a hot mug
red noses after playing in the snow
watching old movies during a rainstorm
hammocks
baby toes
those pretty lights on northumberland street
mushy peas and chips
wristwatches
scratch & sniff stickers
knowing that even though i will get older and my hair will grow and my skin will wrinkle and scar and this list will be revised… that i will still be me and its okay to change… its okay to run away and make stupid choices and dye all your clothes purple and waste your money and eat cheesecake… its okay because my list will change and so will i and hating what you used to be gets nothing done and neither does hating who you are. things are changing and they wont stop. today these 300 things make me happy and one day they wont but that doenst mean i lost myself. it means i grew. i know that. that makes me happy.
moving on
23 notes · View notes
sopewriters · 8 years
Text
Mr. Impatient
Pairing: Im Jaebum/ Reader
Genre: Sort of angsty, but not exactly; smut
Word Count: 2.7K +
Warning: A bit of blood play, dubious consent
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“It’s that kid again.”
You lifted your gaze, warily eyeing your friend before shifting your line of sight in the direction she was frowning at, a twin expression forming on your face. This was easily the fourth or fifth time you had seen the boy, with the pale skin and tousled black hair that could belong to a model, and it was beginning to bother you. He transferred in the middle of the year sometime, and immediately became the talk of the school because of his looks. It was annoying, both you and your friend agreed.
“Yeah, I guess.”
The noticeable tension underlying the words betrayed your emotions, letting the girl beside you pick up on it.
“Let’s go then,” She said quickly, tugging you up by the arm, “We’ve got to get to class fast, or else he’ll kill us.”
The ‘he’, of course, referred to your Physics teacher who, despite his seemingly peaceful nature, could turn savage in the blink of an eye. It was best not to test it.
The two of you barely made it in time though, panting and totally out of breath by then. You got a subtle side-glare as you passed by, but no words, making you sigh in relief.
“Y/N, come see me after class.”
Well then.
 ‘After Class’ couldn’t come fast enough, and you bounced your leg anxiously under your desk as you glanced at the wall clock for the seventh time in five minutes. There was literally just a minute left, so why was time going by so slowly?
You nearly jumped up with joy when the bell finally rang, its sharp shrill resounding through your head, making you wince, before quickly skipping down the steps to level a stare at your professor.
“What did you need to speak to me about?” You questioned, heart pounding furiously, because please don’t tell me I’m in trouble.
“You’re not in trouble,” The man sighed, as though disappointed, as the last of the students left, “I have a favour to ask of you.”
“A favour?” You repeated stupidly, unable to believe you ears, “You need a favour from me?”
“Yes, yes, whatever,” The man waved a hand, “We have a new student in our Physics course and he needs quite a bit of help. I suppose your qualification is adequate, so you’ll be assisting him.”
“What?” You exclaimed incredulously, “Me?”
“Yes, you.” He sighed in extreme disapproval, “Your first session would be tomorrow after school in the library. Don’t forget.”
He went back to stacking books, entirely unperturbed by the fact that the floor was crumbling underneath you.
Well then.
  “Say what?!” Your friend practically screeched when you told her the news, making you wince from potential hearing loss, “No way! Tell him you can’t do it!”
“I don’t have a choice,” A dejected sigh sounded from your throat, “He hates me already. Besides, how weird could that kid be?”
“Apparently, he doesn’t talk to anyone,” She said dubiously, before frowning, “Except for those weird loud kids.”
“Aren’t they the ones who everyone finds ‘illegally hot’?” You eyed her, immediately catching onto who she was talking about, “You know, the supposed ‘heartthrobs’?”
“They’re weirdos now that they’re associating with him.” She decides, “How on earth is he friends with them already anyway?”
“Whatever,” You shrugged, rolling a pencil over your desk idly, “We’ll see what happens tomorrow, I guess.”
   “So….”
It was already awkward and you hated it. He was staring at you with a strange glint in his eye, unblinking. You anxiously bit your lip, before clearing your throat again.
“Uh, Im… Jaebum?” No response. “That…that is your name, right?”
Finally:
“JB.”
‘Wow, congratulations!’ A mental pat on the back, ‘We’ve upgraded to one-word answers now!’
“JB, huh?” You smiled nervously, a force of habit, “Um, so what have you covered so far?”
“…Nothing?”
“What, seriously?” Your mouth dropped open in shock, and you forgot all your inhibitions as your brain short-circuited at the thought that he didn’t know shit, “You…you haven’t done a single chapter yet?”
“No, that’s what I said.” Better, five words this time, but you hardly noticed as you stared down those dark eyes, “Seriously, did they give me a dumbass for a tutor?”
“Excuse you, who are you calling a dumbass!” The words left your mouth unbidden, making you wince, but you ploughed on since you were stupid like that, “I thought I’d be helping someone out, not being forced to listen fucking one-word answers!”
Then, it struck you, “And how on earth did you not learn anything?!”
“Gosh, you’re so loud.” He rolled his eyes at you, before checking his watch, a gleaming expensive-looking one, “Ugh, another half an hour.”
Wait seriously? You couldn’t believe this guy.
“You’re not leaving until I say so.” You growled menacingly, uncaring of how terrifying he looked to be, “And I do say so, so.”
Well, the end of your speech could’ve used a little work, but semantics. No, what was important was the fact that he stayed where he was, damn it why was he getting up?
“Well, too bad.” He tossed something on the table before sauntering away, “See you tomorrow, kitten.”
“Wh-what, kitten!” You spluttered to yourself, wide eyes trained at his retreating back, “What the actual—AGH!”
The librarian wasn’t too happy about the noise, so you ended up getting kicked out. Fun times.
 “He called you what?”
“I’m not kidding, it sounded like it came straight out of a porno.”
“No way.”
“…”
“Ugh, what a creep. Should I come along next time?”
“No.”
“What if…what he debauches you? What if he steals away your innocence when I can’t protect you, huh?”
“…”
 It was Day Two.
Your friend did not tag along, since she was luckily engrossed in watching a swim meet (“for the hot guys, Y/N-ah, for the hot guys.”) like a total creep. You were actually grateful for it, for once.
“Alright, let’s do this.” You said determinedly once he sat down, “I’m going to start off with Mechanics and you’re going to listen, right?”
He didn’t say anything, just shrugged casually. His black jacket was barely hanging onto his shoulder, revealing much more of his pale skin than you wanted to see.
You tore your eyes away from his unnatural pallor and focused on your book, beginning to explain what you thought of as the most boring topic in physics to date because honestly, why.
He was surprisingly diligent, which sharply contrasted his annoying fuckboy, pseudo-gangster image, writing down detailed notes in a flat black book. In fact, when you glanced over at it sometimes, it looked much more detailed than what you were saying.
It was…weird, to say in the least.
“Tomorrow again, after school.” You said finally, wrapping everything up, “Don’t be late.”
“Hm.”
And you were back to one-word answers.
  The rest of the days passed by similarly, with you tutoring him in the library, trying to hide your awe at his detailed note-taking, before telling him to meet you again the next day. He was actually being civil to you, even going so far as to crack a few jokes over time. It was strange, but fitting, when he did, and you really couldn’t complain.
He was doing well in class as well, which brought you some relief because your professor would fuck you up otherwise. It made you feel a little better about everything, and the fact that everything was going smoothly just gave you a sense of peace. Nothing could go wrong now.
  Until it did.
 “So, partner.” You smiled hugely at JB, where he was lounging in his chair, looking as pale and depressing as ever, “Got any ideas for our project?”
“No.” He said, blunt as always, “I’ll help you work on it, but any ideas need to be your own.”
Why did he sound exactly like a professor? Ugh.
You must have been dying on the inside for too long, because he rapped his knuckles sharply against the wooden desk, with a smirk beginning to creep up on his (not) ugly face.
“Start talking.”
“Okay, Mr. Impatient.” You smirked at your (totally not lame) pun, before flipping open your book to the page you needed.
“…that was terrible.”
“Please, shut up.”
 The two of you decided to meet at his house, much to your friend’s chagrin (“what if he does those unspeakable things and outrages your—mmph!”), though you calmly assured her that, yes, I’ll be fine, and that, no, he’s not going to fucking kill me calm down.
To be honest, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe a shanty house, with a dilapidated roof, and a lonely porch. Or a fucking huge ass mansion, with bodyguards milling about.
What you most certainly did not expect, though, was the sheer normality of the scene. Im Jaebum’s house looked perfectly normal, painted brightly and invitingly, complete with a neatly trimmed front lawn. There seemed to be a rose garden in the back as well, from what little you could make out.
“Why are you staring?” The guy in question spoke, raising an unamused eyebrow, before brushing his way past you, “Come inside.”
The inside was decorated sparsely, but still didn’t look too empty. Jaebum’s family seemed to have good tastes, you had to admit grudgingly. Well, either that, or a kickass interior designer.
“Aren’t your parents at home?” You asked curiously, as you padded upstairs behind him.
“No.” His answer was curt, to the point, “They’re out of town.”
“Ah, I see.” You smiled nervously as you took stock of his room, noting how dark everything was in there, contrary to the zesty coloring of the rest of the house.
“So,” You started, “Let’s do this?”
“Yeah,” He said, before pausing, contemplative, “Do you want something to drink?”
“Uh, I guess water’s cool.” You stuttered out, completely caught off guard; who would’ve thought this guy had a sense of politeness in him?
“Right, water.” He made that weird, pondering, face again, before he disappeared, door slamming shut behind him.
“Well, that was fast.” You muttered to yourself in surprise, before nearly shrieking and falling off the bed when the door opened again and Jaebum walked inside, glass of water in his hand.
You held out your hand in anticipation, ignoring the seed of shock sprouting in you, waiting, only to sputter in disbelief when he put it casually on the table.
“Hand it over.” You didn’t mean to sound whiny, but it came out like that, and Jaebum looked perturbed for a brief second, before his familiar nonchalant expression came back.
“Nope.” He decided, shrugging in the face of your pout, before taking a seat on the bed across you. You ignored the sudden rush of warmth to your cheeks (why the hell would that even happen, damn it) and shook your head, getting to your feet and walking over to your awaiting glass.
“Why are you so rude,” You muttered petulantly to yourself, before, “OW!”
“What happened?” Jaebum was by your side in an instant, taking a gentle grip on your wrist in what could be mistaken as worry, before he was drawn to the crimson trail dripping down your index finger. You nearly cursed yourself for your stupidity; of course, there was a nail sticking out from the desk and, of course, you didn’t notice.
“It’s nothing, just a cut.” You said quickly, tugging your wrist away, “It’ll stop soon.”
But your hand wasn’t coming free. Nor was Jaebum responding, eyes fixed firmly on the bleeding digit, mouth parted open.
“Y-yah,” You tugged harder, more nervously the longer he stared, “I-Im Jaebum, what’s wrong—”
A gasp sounded out from somewhere, and you dimly realized it was your own voice tinged with horrified awe, and your eyes focused with almost startling intensity, on the pillows of pink wrapped firmly around your finger, the startling heat.
“J-JB.” You stuttered out, fear pulling at you, “W-what—”
“You taste so good.” He said oddly, eyes flicking up to you, and that’s when your heart stopped, seeing his red-rimmed irises, his constricted pupils.
Your breath stuttered, and you wasted no time, pushing him away with a strong arm and tumbling off the bed before taking off. You remembered your friend’s concern, tears stinging your eyes when you felt a grip around your wrist. A shocked cry tore from your throat as you were slammed painfully against the wall, throat constricting with fear as you stared back into his inhuman eyes.
“I’m hungry,” He commented coldly, and if you thought he was normally cold, this was below zero, “So stay still.”
“Stay still? What the—”
The words got cut off when something pierced through the delicate skin of your neck and you stared, vision swimming, at the mop of black hair nestled comfortably in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. The slight graze of teeth against your neck made you aware of the fact that he was drinking your blood, that he was a vampire, but all that was lost as you felt your mind slip away.
And, it didn’t matter how much fear you had, or how much apprehension; none of that mattered in the face of the comfortable lucid experience and the heat building up, making you twist uncomfortably with a sheen of sweat lining your skin. Every inch of you was on fire, nerves fraying and eyes dilated as the man keeping you pinned detached himself from your neck; a strangled moan tore from your throat, though you didn’t know if that was in gratefulness or unwillingness.
You needed more.
“I’m getting to it,” The dark chuckle made your breath hitch, and you couldn’t resist as a leg slipped between your parted thighs, grinding lightly against your core, reveling in your pleased groan, “So impatient.”
“P-please—” You choked out, nearly sobbing with the need (to do what, you didn’t know), “Please.”
You didn’t struggle, instead trying to get closer, reduce the space between the two of you. You could practically feel yourself getting wet, juices staining the fabric of your shorts, and mewled when you felt his fingers brush against your underwear after slipping beneath the waistband.
“Wet for me already, aren’t you?” He mused, rubbing a slow circle into your throbbing clit, “Tch, what a slut.”
And normally, you would have been insulted by it, but nothing mattered anymore, you just needed him.
“D-Do it, please.” You pleaded, voice breathy, grinding down against his fingers, and were rewarded with them slipping inside you finally, making you jolt, pleasure thrumming through your veins.
You weren’t expecting him to kiss you, but he did just that, only accelerating his movements as he ravaged your mouth, laying on you a claim you didn’t realize, one you wouldn’t be able to refuse. The taste of coppery blood filled your mouth, your blood, but you didn’t care, gyrating your hips upward to get his fingers deeper inside you, head thrown back and mouth parted lewdly.
Your legs quivered helplessly as the pleasure began build almost painfully from inside you, making your head thump softly against the wall. A cry ripped from your throat as finally, fucking finally you found your climax, hands scrabbling to find purchase in the soft, velvety feel of his skin.
You hardly noticed when his fingers slipped out, eyes instinctively fluttering shut when he caught your mouth again, softer this time. A pleased noise hummed from his throat at your complacence, and you only further relaxed in his hold.
When he eventually pulled back, however, his eyes flickered, flitting over your form appraisingly, and the crimson red returned. You gasped when he slammed you harder against the wall than before, and couldn’t breathe when you stared into those eyes.
 “I was going to let you go,” Jaebum whispered huskily, fangs digging dangerously into your skin, “But I can’t wait for more.”
Might or might not have a second part.
Written By: Admin Midnight
picture link, all credits go to the owner: 
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