#i was gonna draw date for different prompt but i saw an opportunity to be a troll and i took it lmaO I'M SORRY
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kastillia · 5 months ago
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buoyantsaturn · 3 years ago
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for writing prompts!! the line “i wish you told me your mom was coming” or “stay here with me. for the rest of our lives.” which give very different vibes lol <3 but if you hate them no pressure!!
thank u for the prompt!! this came out so much longer than expected!!! 1.1k under the cut!!
Nico had been buzzing all day with the knowledge that he and Will had a movie date that evening. Will’s mom was going to pick them up from school and drop them off at the theater, since Will wouldn’t be able to get his license for another few months, and since there weren’t any busses that would get them where they needed to go.
They were going to see some space movie that Will loved, because the nearby theater was doing a special screening for some of the classics, so naturally Nico jumped at the chance to get them tickets. Personally, he didn’t care much to see the movie, but he was happy to see how excited Will had been, and he was looking forward to spending time with his boyfriend.
Most of all, now that he’d finally thought up the perfect way to do it, Nico was bursting at the seams to kiss Will for the first time. He knew it was a little cliche - the hand holding on the armrest, the yawn-and-stretch move, and most of all kissing in the back row of the theater - but these things were cliche for a reason, okay? It was all going to work out perfectly, because Nico refused to chicken out.
Until he realized that Naomi wasn’t dropping them off in the firelane outside the theater, but instead pulling into a parking spot. Then, she was walking them inside, flashing her own ticket to gain access to the concessions stand, and… Nico kind of wanted to cry.
He squeezed Will’s hand and tugged him closer, whispering in his ear, “I wish you told me your mom was coming.”
Will looked at him with confusion clear on his face in the furrow between his brows. “Why wouldn’t she? She loves Star Wars, almost as much as I do!”
Nico tried not to pout. “But… We’re on a date.”
“It’s fine,” Will assured him, “it’s not like she’s gonna sit with us. Maybe she’ll even buy us popcorn!”
Nico started to feel a little better once they got into the theater and Naomi picked a seat near the middle of the room, while Nico and Will kept climbing higher. Will propped the bag of popcorn on the armrest between them - bought by Naomi, which, okay, that helped Nico feel a little better, too - though Nico suddenly couldn’t think of anything other than his master plan. How was he supposed to hold Will’s hand on the armrest if there was a bag of popcorn there? How would he smoothly slide an arm around Will’s shoulders if Will wasn’t leaning in that direction? How was Nico going to draw Will’s attention away from the popcorn and the soda and his favorite movie long enough for Nico to kiss him?
Maybe he hadn’t thought this through as well as he’d thought.
As soon as the movie started, Nico turned into a nervous wreck. He couldn’t focus on a single thing - he had no idea what was happening in the movie, though he’d caught Will whispering some of the lines to himself at the same time as the actors spoke them on screen, which was just proof that Will had seen the movie too many times already. At some point, Nico was pretty sure Will had moved the bag of popcorn to the floor, because his hand wound up on the armrest. Nico’s eyes kept flickering down to it, though his nerves got the best of him, so he never reached out to take it. He did lean closer to Will, though, as if psyching himself up for the yawn-and-stretch move.
Then, Will’s arm slipped around his shoulders, and Nico almost jumped out of his seat. Did this mean that Will was on the same page? Was Will going to try to kiss him? Oh, now Nico’s nerves were through the roof. Why did he ever think he would be able to pull this off?
Nico tried to relax against Will’s shoulder, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to untense. He lifted his head a few times, trying to catch Will’s eyes so that he could pull the other into a kiss, but Will was always too enthralled by the movie. When the end credits started to roll, Nico felt himself sink into his seat in shame, having officially chickened out despite having the perfect opportunity. Or maybe it hadn’t been as perfect as it seemed.
As other moviegoers started to pack up to leave, Will sat up straighter and turned to Nico with a bright grin. “So? What did you think? Wasn’t it amazing? It’s so much better on such a big screen, it’s almost like you’re there, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Nico said nervously, “it was...great.”
“What was your favorite part?”
When you put your arm around me, Nico thought, but he knew he couldn’t say that, because that would be embarrassing, and would probably also cue Will into the fact that he hadn’t been paying any attention to what was happening on screen. He flushed with embarrassed horror as he watched Will’s eyes widen, and he realized that he had, in fact, said those words out loud.
“Oh,” Will said, a blush rising up on his own cheekbones. “Yeah, I...thought that was nice.”
“Me, too,” Nico replied, and ducked his head. He reached out for Will’s hand and held it on the armrest between them. “I also kind of wanted to hold your hand the whole time, and, um…” Would he have the courage to say it?
“Can I kiss you?” Will asked, and Nico’s head snapped up as Will beat him to the punch. “I, um-- I mean, is that too cheesy? Having a first kiss in a movie theater? If you’re not ready, we don’t have to, but. Um. I would...like to, if… If you wanna.”
Nico was nodding his head so fast he started to get dizzy.
“Okay,” Will whispered, and took a deep breath. Nico realized in that moment that Will was just as nervous as he was, which actually helped to calm him down.
Nico leaned in, squishing their noses together as their lips met, and he pulled away just as quick. He squeezed Will’s hand, though he had to look away, as if to hide the growing red coating his face.
When he finally chanced a look back at Will, he saw the other boy beaming back at him.
They held hands in the back seat of Naomi’s SUV for the entire drive to Nico’s parent’s house, both as red as tomatoes with matching smiles. When Naomi pulled into the driveway, Will insisted on walking Nico to the door, where he kissed Nico just as quickly as before, though there was a distinct lack of nose squishing, so it was so much better than before.
Nico couldn’t wait for the next kiss.
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fangirlovestuff · 4 years ago
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Cycle - Steve Rogers x reader ch.1
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a/n- Hey lovely people! this was a one shot idea that spiralled into a multi-part series, and i am very very excited to post this! i actually identify with steve’s situation more than the reader’s, but we all have imaginations😂 also i suck at summaries but give it a chance! the divider is by the amazing @whimsicalrogers​, thank you so much! Enjoy<3
Summary: You want a relationship but keep getting tangled up in one night stands, while Steve just keeps getting himself friendzoned. When pollar opposites with the same desires meet, will you change each other’s lives? Will you break the cycle?
Word Count: ~2,420
Warnings: bad language, mentions of sex
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The music was thumping in Steve's ears, way too loud as always but he learned to manage it. He tried tuning back in to Bucky and Sam's conversation, but his thoughts kept pulling him away. He liked going out with his friends, he really did, it's just that lately, life wasn't exactly working out the way he expected it to. Which is normal, I mean, no one's life is exactly like they imagined, but at this point it was getting ridiculous.
A pretty blonde was coming up to them, and Sam and Bucky elbowed Steve, drawing his attention towards her. His overly-supportive friends were, of course, nagging him to "get some" for a while now, and honestly, it wasn't Steve's fault he didn't. It wasn't for a lack of trying.
It's just that, well, Steve was a really nice guy. That was just who he is – sweet, attentive, caring. And he wanted to love someone, physically but also emotionally. But his character kept getting in his way. You see, he had many opportunities to get a girlfriend or even just a one-night stand, even though he wasn't that kinda guy. Plenty of beautiful women came up to him, he was Captain America for gosh sake. He was told he's also very good looking, but that's a matter of opinions. To himself, he still seemed like that scrawny kid from Brooklyn, just that he obviously didn't look the same. Still, none of Steve's thoughts about himself can change the fact he was a catch.
But every time he'd go on a date, or meet someone at a bar, he somehow said exactly the right things. So right in fact, that the women in front of him ended up confessing their secrets to him, opening up to him, trusting him immediately. One time the girl even started crying, a full-on sob session in the middle of the restaurant they were in. And of course, he'd comfort them, rubbing soothing circles across their backs, nodding in that understanding way of his, listening to them with genuine interest in his eyes, because that's just who he is.
And at the end of the night, when he asked, "can I see you again?" or "can I get your number?" they'd answer: "You're so sweet… but I think we would be better as friends, you know?"
He'd swallow a disappointed groan, smiling politely and saying "sure, that'd be nice."
And that's the story of how Steve Rogers ended up with tons of friends who were girls, but not one girlfriend to spare. Honestly, it was kind of sad that a man who listens gets automatically labeled as a friend who doesn't want to date the girl in front of him.
But it was getting sadder that he wasn't, as his friends so delicately put it, "getting some."
Presently, the blonde came up to them, waving and looking at Steve with interest in her eyes. "I'm Sharon," she introduced herself, "Wanna dance?" she smirked. From the corners of his eyes, he could see his friends glaring daggers at him, as if saying "if you say no, I will kick your ass so hard."
"Sure," he said, getting up. He took Sharon's hand and led their way to the dance floor. They danced for a while, moving against each other to the beat. They didn't talk much, because the music was so loud on the dance floor. After some time, Sharon pointed towards the bar and he nodded, feeling hopeful for the first time in a while.
They ordered their drinks, Steve insisting to pay for hers. From their place at the barstools, the music was still loud but bearable, so they could hear what the other was saying.
"So, what do you do?" Steve asked her.
"Well, I actually work at S.H.I.E.L.D," she smiled a little. "I saw you a couple of times but you seemed busy so I didn't come say hello," she shrugged apologetically.
This, of course, would be the time to say something smooth like "I'm never too busy for such a pretty woman." Except that, well, Steve worried that might be a little objectifying, so instead he opted for: "Well, you can come say hello whenever."
She giggled a little and sipped her drink. "I bet you've got some interesting stories though, right? I mean, bring an Avenger and all must make for some adventures."
"Oh, it does." Steve chuckled. "Do you know about the time when, uh, Loki disguised himself as Fury?"
Sharon sent him a quizzical look, prompting him to continue. "He thought he could access some weapons like that. The funny thing is, he almost did it, but Tony fell asleep while making a waffle and nearly burned the kitchen. When Fury didn't appear the moment the fire alarm went off, we realized something was seriously wrong."
She laughed. "Yeah, I can see how that would be alarming, pun intended," she grinned. "Honestly, Fury's great at his job, but he is a bit of a pain in the ass sometimes. I mean, that one time he told me off when my holster was on the wrong side, but we were in the office! What the hell would I even need a gun for?"
They continued to talk about work, and conversation flowed easily. At one point though, the conversation took a more personal turn.
"You know what…" Sharon said, "being in S.H.I.E.L.D is great, but sometimes I wish I would have taken a different path. I always thought that being an agent was my destiny, but honestly there are a thousand other things I could've done," she sighed. "Like, I don't know, be an architect or… a vet. When you're a kid you have all these dreams and then you just end up taking the practical job."
Steve's eyes filled with understanding. He reached out and put his palm on her arm, rubbing it soothingly. If he would've glanced at his friends, he would see them facepalming violently, aware that Steve's getting himself friendzoned, again, but Steve didn't notice. Instead, he told Sharon, "Hey, you're great at what you do as an agent. But It's never too late to change it up. I mean, I thought I wasn't gonna have a chance to fight in the war and here I am," he chuckled.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said, a pensive look on her face. "Thank you, Steve. For the drinks and everything." She smiled and got up, taking her bag with her.
"Wait," Steve said, "can I get your number?"
"Oh," Sharon's brows furrowed for a second before she fixed her expression. "I just figured we'd see each other at work or something, you know, now that we're friends and all."
"Yeah, sure, you're right," Steve said, disappointment settling in his stomach. "See you around, Sharon."
She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Bye Steve," she said before getting up and walking away, exiting the club while Steve ordered another shot and got back to his friends' table, who took one look at his face and guessed what happened, thus were cackling and giggling like crazy.
He sat down, downing his drink and grumbling, "I miss Asgardian mead." Which only sent Sam and Bucky into another laughing fit.
Later that night Steve plopped down on his bed. He tried to sleep, but his thoughts were keeping him awake. What was he doing wrong? What was it about him that pushed women away? But should he change in order to get someone to like him?
He tossed and turned like that for a while, not finding a good answer to any of his questions. But when finally, after a couple of hours he managed to drift off, he closed his eyes with a resolution in mind.
I'm gonna break this cycle.
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You looked around the small café, searching for… Josh. Yeah, that was his name, you were sure of it. Pretty sure anyway.
You sighed in frustration and checked your phone once more. Sure enough, he texted you he'll be this address in five minutes. It was definitely this address.
But it's been nearly an hour and he wasn't here, not texting anything else either. The waitress was giving you weird looks, so you had ordered your own coffee in the meantime.
You met Josh two nights prior, when you were out with your friends. You felt numerous eyes on you as you and your friends were dancing, the alcohol sending a pleasant buzz through your body. Josh was the only one who caught your eye, so when he came by offering to dance with you, you said yes.
Now, this is probably the place to mention you weren't having a lot of luck with guys lately. You liked to divide the guys you met into four catagories, so; pretty much every guy you met has either:
a)      Used you for sex
b)      Blew you off
c)      Gave you a wrong number, probably on purpose, or
d)      "was looking for something casual and it seemed like you were too"
So, your dating life was a little shitty to say the least. You knew that you were hot, or at least that guys considered you to be even though you didn't most of the time. But it's not like you were looking for "something casual." Quite the opposite actually, you were more than ready to date, have a serious relationship like most of your friends did.
But apparently, guys didn't really get that memo. Some days you wondered if you were a douche magnet, or was it maybe tattooed on your forehead that "I am a slut! Fuckboys, assemble!"
It wasn't that, but you couldn't say it didn't sting a little every time you were sent straight to voicemail, or every morning you woke up and found that he snuck out.
To be fair, you enjoyed some of it. The clubbing, the energy you feel when you cross eyes with someone across the room, the occasionally good sex. But for a long time now, it wasn't what you really wanted. You wanted to be sent flowers, not "u up;)" messages.
It wasn't like you didn't have other hobbies as well, and a job you were great at. So great in fact, you were offered to work with the Avengers, starting next week, because the position was open and they knew you were that good. You were a well-rounded person for fuck's sake, not a one-night-fantasy.
But the night you met Josh you really thought he could be different. You both talked, danced, had a lot of fun. And then, you know, went to his place, and argued about if he should put on a condom, which you won because he was way too drunk and horny to argue that stupid opinion, then fucked. At that point you realized no matter how much fun you had; he was a jerk for thinking he shouldn't put on a condom when you asked him to. So, you waited for him to fall asleep and then quietly gathered your belongings and left his apartment, thinking you'd never hear from him again.
The next day your fingered hovered above the "delete contact" on your phone. When you exchanged numbers last night you saved him as "cute guy<3" and you kinda hated your drunk self for that, but what's done is done. You were just about to delete his number when he shot you a message apologizing for last night, saying he didn't mean it, and asking you if you were free tomorrow to meet him at this small café which was "totally great".
So, wanting to give him another chance, you accepted.
Which brings us here, to said little café you were currently sitting in, waiting for the guy you were pretty sure was named Josh and questioning all of your life choices.
You finished your coffee, which had already gotten to be at room temperature and it wasn't even that good in the first place, so it was bad. But hey, you already paid for it, so you downed the rest of it and left the café, wandering into the warm, humid street.
Once you were back home from the commute, which was a terrible experience due to the humidity, you quickly shed your clothes, taking a nice cold shower to wash off the sticky sweat from your skin. You dried off, putting on a pair of shorts and a tank top before checking your phone, just to be sure, and—
Yep, still no message from Josh. You resisted the sudden urge to throw your phone across the room, taking a deep breath before shooting him one last text – "sayonara, dipshit" – before finally deleting his number from your phone, like you should've done yesterday.
You put your phone away for the rest of the day, going on your computer to do some chores – reply to your emails, settle some stuff before your start at the Avengers compound, closing things in your old workplace.
When evening arrived, you opened your phone to messages from your friends asking how your date with Jason, and it took you a minute to realize who they're talking about. You chuckled bitterly before telling them he stood you up.
They were very sympathetic, telling you you're going to find the right guy and that Jason wasn't worth it anyway. You agreed with the latter sentiment, but you weren't sure how much you agreed with the first one.
You had dinner on your own, scrolling through social media and mindlessly pecking your food. You spent the rest of your evening thinking about… life.
The thing is, you were tired. Tired of being treated like you're only good for sex, tired of pretentious assholes apparently named Jason who play you just so they can feed their own ego by having the last word, but most of all – tired of being alone.
You were ready for a change. You needed a change. You spent the rest of your evening planning it all in your head, resolving to stop giving into guys because they're fun or cute. You're not actually looking for cute fun, and it's time to start acting like it.
When you're on your own, this all seems like a given to you; that you're a strong woman, that you want romance. But somehow when you're actually around guys you forget all about it and become impulsive. Living in the moment is great, but so is having a future.
Well, your future starts tomorrow, because before you went to sleep you made up your mind –
Tomorrow, I break the cycle.
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Hope you liked it! this was a bit more of an introduction, but i still really liked writing it :) i don’t know exactly when the next one’ll be out cause school and stuff but i promise to do my best... if you have any ideas/requests please feel free to tell me about them!
thank you again @whimsicalrogers​ for the magical divider <3
next chapter teaser: “It's a new week, and you're getting a new start.” 
Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal
if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3
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senacal · 4 years ago
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A Perfect Disaster
Request: Not a request
Pairing: Hank McCoy x Reader
Prompt:  Imagine Hank McCoy wants to spice up his and (Y/N)'s romance life and tries all sorts of cheesy tactics such as candlelit dinners, bringing fruit and whipped cream into the bedroom, sexy underwear... whether they fail or not in their romancing is another question...
Warnings: Fluff, undertones to sex, cursing, slight angst? speculations of cheating
Author’s Note: I wanted to write at least one thing for each character I write for and I stumbled on this prompt and thought of how awkward Hank would be, so here you go!
Requests are open! 
(Gif not mine)
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Lately (Y/N) has noticed that Hank has been acting kind of odd. (Y/N) was trying to figure out why that was, so they’ve been subtly asking around. And by subtly, that meant flat out asking what the fuck was up with Hank McCoy. When (Y/N) asked Charles, the telepath who was sure to know everything, he had refused to look into Hank’s mind. Which (Y/N) found frustrating because now they had to go asking more people what they thought. All their answers matched, “Ask Charles.” Yeah, no shit! But Charles was being pretty mindful of this. The one time (Y/N) asks him to abuse his power, Charles refuses. That left (Y/N) only one option. Ask Hank what was going on.
It wasn’t such a surprise to find Hank below the mansion in the lab he had built, so that’s exactly where (Y/N) had gone to look. But what was strange was to find him spending his time shopping. C’mon, Hank McCoy willingly shopping? He hated most social interactions and crowds. So when (Y/N) went looking for him only to be told he was at the mall of all places was beyond confusing to them. (Y/N) was used to the late nights and sometimes, all-nighters, that Hank pulled. He was the resident genius so he was always on call. (Y/N) could deal with that. But a whole week? A week of ignored phone calls, a week of late nights, a week of canceled plans. What was so important that Hank had left (Y/N) all by themselves for a whole week? (Y/N) knew there were no current missions. Hell, they were apart of the X-Men for crying out loud so they were sure to know if a mission was happening or not.
And now Hank was shopping? What the hell was happening?
(Y/N) was sitting in their shared bedroom, waiting for his arrival. He had been gone approximately three hours now. (Y/N) was watching the clock, counting the minutes. Hank’s new habits were driving them crazy. What if he was cheating on them? That could explain why Hank was never around anymore. It would explain why Charles wouldn’t tell (Y/N) what Hank was thinking. Then again Charles could actually want to give them the privacy everyone needed. Fuck, it all sucked. Especially the not knowing part of all this. (Y/N) always knew what people were doing. They were always one step ahead of everyone else. So the fact that (Y/N) didn’t know what Hank was doing, was driving them crazy.
“Hey babe, I’m back,” Hank walked into their shared room and deposited his bags in their shared closet. “Sorry I took so long, the mall was packed. I can’t believe people go there to hang out,” Hank shuddered.
“Right… Can I ask why you were there?” (Y/N) wondered.
“I was buying a few things,” Hank shut the closet door and sat on the bed right next to (Y/N).  He placed a small kiss on their cheek, “I know I haven’t been around much recently, but I want to make that up to you. Make sure your schedule is free tomorrow because it's gonna be me and you all day,” He promised.
“A day dedicated to us? You’re sure some projects won’t need you?” (Y/N) asked somewhat bitterly. They didn’t mean to sound so petulant, but a week without Hank was kinda grating. They slept in the same room and (Y/N) still hardly saw him.
“Of course not, that’s why I was down there for so long. I wanted to finish ahead of time. Otherwise, we’d still be going through the same routine,” Hank furrowed his brows confused. “Didn’t I tell you I would be especially busy this week?”
“It must have slipped your mind,” (Y/N) shrugged. “It’s fine though,” (Y/N) perked up and sat up straighter, “So you have plans for us for tomorrow?”
Hank grinned and nodded, “I do, but it’s a surprise so you can’t know anything about it, so no cheating okay? Don’t ask Charles or the others about it and don’t try to use your powers to glimpse into the future.”
(Y/N) furrowed their brows, “Okay… can I ask why?”
“No, you may not,” Hank kissed (Y/N) on the nose, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to set some things up for tomorrow, Love you!” Hank stood up and almost ran out the door.
The rest of the night was spent with Raven, the both of you speculating what Hank had planned. Raven was saying that Hank was going to do something that would be simple because he wasn’t one to draw attention to himself. (Y/N) had to agree, that was very much like Hank, but with the way he has been acting lately, they thought this time would be different too. By the end of the night, Hank was actually in bed at a reasonable hour and (Y/N) got to fall asleep in his arms. Even if the next day turned out horrible for whatever reason, (Y/N) at least had that moment in Hank’s arms.
The next morning, (Y/N) woke up alone. It wasn’t too unusual, but they were wondering where Hank had run off to. He had promised a full day for the two of them. (Y/N) sat up in bed and stretched their arms overhead. It was kind of hard to force themselves out of bed most days but for once (Y/N) had gotten the best night’s sleep in over a week. They were just about to get up when the bedroom door burst open. (Y/N) would have been startled if it weren’t for the fact that it was Hank who had come barrelling in with what looked like breakfast. 
“Sorry, I didn’t wake you did I?” He winced.
(Y/N) shook their head with an amused smile, “You need help?”
“No, I’ve got it, you just sit back and relax,” Hank kicked the door closed with his foot and met (Y/N) on the bed, “I made us some pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns,” he beamed proudly. Despite Hank’s advantageous feet, he was pretty clumsy, especially in the kitchen.
“You cooked?” (Y/N) asked surprised.
“Well, Raven cooked, but I did learn a few tricks!” He spoke happily. 
(Y/N) too their plate from Hank with a grateful smile, “Well, I’ll have to thank her,” they leaned over and kissed Hank’s cheek, “Thank you, my love.”
Henry blushed despite himself. He had thought he’d be used to affection by now, but in truth, he was still as flustered as the first time (Y/N) had shown him any form of affection. Hank was used to being alone in his lab, or alone with his teammates. He never thought he’d meet someone who would make his whole world bright. 
Breakfast was delicious and (Y/N) vowed to thank Raven once again. They knew Raven could cook, but damn! (Y/N) sat back and pat their stomach, “That was wonderful, thank you, Hank.”
“It was nothing, really. Wait till you see what else I have planned,” He grinned. He had made sure to set a schedule that was sure to be successful. He awoke early that morning to ensure everything was bulletproof, figuratively speaking of course. 
“I can’t wait,” (Y/N) moved their plate aside to get up, “For now, I’d like to shower, care to join me?”
Hank was up in an instant, he could afford to be distracted at least a little bit, right? Everything was sure to turn out successful in the end.
Everything was not successful. Hank couldn’t understand what had happened! One minute he was taking (Y/N) apart inch by inch in the shower, the next, (Y/N) had slipped and hit their head thus killing the mood. This was why he never indulged in shower sex! Well, he also never had the opportunity, but (Y/N) hurt their head! They had a major headache for a couple of hours after that so Hank had to cancel a few plans, like the training in the Danger Room, the horseback riding reservation, and the movie date. 
(Y/N) had apologized repeatedly because they felt as if it were their fault, but Hank was sure to shoot down each apology. Hank should have been more careful, at least that’s what he had said each time (Y/N) apologized. 
“Are you sure you’re feeling better? We can skip the picnic if you’re still hurting,” Hank softly spoke.
“No, we are not canceling any more plans. You put so much thought into today and I already ruined a good portion of it,” (Y/N) put up a finger to silence Hank, “Don’t say that I didn’t because we both know if it weren’t for my headache we’d be exhausted physically by now.”
Hank sighed, “I should have been careful, if we’re blaming someone, then it’s on me,” Hank stood up from their shared bed and straightened his clothes, “If you really want to do this, then I’ll make sure the basket is ready to go.” Even though Henry had checked everything over that morning, he desperately needed to make sure everything was ready to go now. 
“I do want to do this. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?” (Y/N) stood up and shooed Hank away.
Once Hank had left, (Y/N) opened their top drawer to their dresser and pulled out an Advil bottle, just in case. 
When (Y/N) finally emerged downstairs, Hank was holding a blanket, a basket, and an umbrella. “Ready (Your nickname)?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” (Y/N) held out their hand to take something, anything from Hank who resembled a packed mule. Hank sighed gratefully and handed the umbrella to them. Once Hank’s hand was free, (Y/N) used the advantage to lace their fingers together. They loved to see Hank’s cheeks flush anytime they did something simple with their affection. 
Together, Hank and (Y/N) walked down the path of the gardens to find a good spot for their picnic. Despite the happenings of the morning, (Y/N) was enjoying their day. Sure they hurt their head, but Hank was there to take care of them. Hank was there to cuddle and he was there to dote over (Y/N). The mere presence of the other mutant was enough to ease (Y/N)’s pain. They were looking forward to the rest of the day, whether it’s ruined by some unfortunate event or not. As long as Hank was with them, nothing else mattered.
To Hank’s surprise and delight, the picnic was a huge success. Not only did their simple meal suffice, but the sparkling cider was also chilled perfectly. The flowers in the garden were in full bloom and even though there were a few bees, the bees managed to keep away from them, though Hank suspected (Y/N) had to do with that. (Y/N) had the ability to interact with animals, big, small, aquatic, land, etc. Alex used to tease them both that (Y/N) managed to snag Hank’s love and affection because (Y/N)’s mutant powers tamed the beast within him. He wasn’t too far off, but it had nothing to do with the powers (Y/N) possessed and everything to do with their personality and who they were.
Now that the picnic was finished, Hank took ahold of (Y/N)’s hand, and together they walked around the grounds of the mansion. It was truly beautiful. Charles managed to create the most beautiful school and they couldn’t have asked for better scenery. 
Once the sun began to set, Hank escorted (Y/N) back to their room for dessert. When Hank suggested dessert, he did a godawful wink that either Charles or Alex had shown him. (Y/N) thought it was adorable and followed him inside nonetheless. 
“You head on up and I’ll meet you there, okay?” Hank kissed (Y/N)’s temple and lightly pushed them in the direction of the stairs.
“Alright, don’t keep me waiting or I’ll get started without you,” (Y/N) teased.
Hank couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips as he watched (Y/N) walk up the stairs. In spite of it all, their day was the perfect disaster and Hank wouldn’t have changed anything in the end.
139 notes · View notes
angelkurenai · 5 years ago
Text
His Princess - Chris Evans x Reader
Title: His Princess
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Warnings: None
Prompt: Hello!! I’m so happy your requests are open again! Can you write Chris Evans going on set to his gf’s music video of "Beauty and the Beast" (w/ John Legend) and he’s so happy to date a «princess» please?
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“Alright, one more for the net. Just stay like that, you look wonderful!”
You couldn't help but giggle at the enthusiasm of the young assistant. What with your manager being unable to show up any of the days of the filming the way she normally would and her always wanting you to have someone with you all the time besides bodyguards, make up artists and stylists that would be there more as a friend than anything else. And so her assistant was yours for the week as well, and you would be lying if you said you weren't already having great fun just by being around her. Not to mention the excitement of being on the set itself and living the dream quiet literally already had you grinning the whole day long as you skipped around the place.
“Alright, is this good?” you asked, resting your chin on your palm, nearly kneeling down on the floor so that the dress looked more like a flower that had enveloped you whole. The maroon color only a great contrast against the white walls of the small room and the lights shining over your diamonds jewellery.
“That's perfect, yes!” she nearly squealed, snapping another photo that made you laugh “Alright, I'm pretty sure we've got more than plenty of photos and videos now. I'm gonna get out of your hair now and see what little I can post to tease the fans. Oh and Eric left the gloves on the chair in the corner. He said it would be best if you wore them because they wanted to run a few tests with cameras and see if they will keep them or not in the end.”
“Alright, Coco, don't worry. I've got this.” you nodded your head, already picking up the fabric and slipping it through your fingers “See you in a couple minutes!”
It wasn't long before you were left in your own devices by the assistant and a calm silence fell in the room. You looked at your reflection, fixing your gloves and dress you hummed the tune of the song.
Taking your phone you scrolled through your feed, one last time before you went to work, only to soon take notice of the photos that had already been uploaded by Coco and grinned widely when you saw that some of your friends had already commented, earning a soft laugh from you as you went through them. Most of them already knew about the filming you were doing for the song of the new Beauty and The Beast movie. You had been overly excited both about the opportunity to sing the song itself – alongside none other than John Legend at that – and even more film the music video. You were so thrilled even before you got started, there was no stopping you from telling your friends everything about it even before you got started.
After so many years in the music industry, so many worldwide tours and music videos and albums later, and more than just a few in the movie industry as well you had seen and experienced so many things and yet you still got so excited over the most simple projects. Much like this one, there was not a single thing you didn't look forward to. At first you were sure it was going to be in a unique location but it was a totally different thing getting to actually see it, especially when you realized that most of it was real and not just a green screen. So with a beautiful set, dressed quiet literally like a princess it was impossible for it all to not feel like a fairytale and have you enticed even before you got started.
“Disney princess or the new Queen of Asgard? Easily both!” Chris Hemsworth had commented.
“Could have not said it better, Chris! What would a King be without her Queen after all?” Tessa comments made you grin.
“Safe to say, running Marvel and Disney has never looked more classy!” it was one from RDJ.
“And then they said not to believe in fairytales. Looking stunning as ever! If you wanna switch up a Captain, I'm always available!” your friend's comment made you laugh and you made a mental note to reply to Brie the second you got the chance to.
“Alright, so what petition do I need to sign to have them make this a live-action Disney movie now?” Liz Olsen with a great variety of emojis.
You couldn't help your smile all the while you scrolled down the comments, seeing many more not just from costars, friends or other celebrities and plenty from fans; but it was all the while a bit too tight. It didn't reach your eyes, certainly not the more you looked and found no comment from your boyfriend. You knew you shouldn't hold it against him but part of you couldn't help but feel the first waves of sadness wash over your soul. Mainly because he was the one that knew most about this song and video clip, how nervous and excited you had been from the first moment; it felt like he had been with you the whole way through all of it and therefore you wanted him to see this too, even if it was only part of what was to come.
On one hand the fact that he was such a big Disney fan was no secret either and it had always made your eagerness to see his reaction to this grow even more. And on the other, loving the man so much meant that his compliments always held a different, much more big, significance to you. Maybe, you realised slowly as you dwelled on it more, it also had a lot to do with the way he said everything. There was always so much emotion in them, such great love and admiration and adoration and every other beautiful feeling he felt for you, showing through not only his words but also his eyes, expression and touches that after all these years you had learned to picture even when he was not close to you.
You decided not to think any more of it, realising that he surely had work to do and it would be better if you focused on it. The fact that you missed said man because you had not seen him in over week due to said work completely put aside.
Setting your phone aside you started making some final checks on your dress and looks, getting the feel of it as you signed softly to yourself “Tale as old as time. True as it can be. Barely even friends, than somebody bends-”
“Unexpectedly.” the singing was soft in your ear, the breath fanning over your cheek and bare neck before a pair of arms sneaked around your waist and a pair of lips were pressed on your neck, making shivers run down your entire spine with such intensity you couldn't hold back a gasp. When a squeeze came next you didn't even have the time react because his one hand slid up to your arm and rested on your shoulders, drawing the familiar goosebumps you had so missed the past couple days.
You would have leaned back into the firm broad chest, the action as natural as blinking. Every curve and edge of your body always seemed to fit perfectly with his no matter the position and you would be a big liar if you said your body was already reacting to his touch. Your heart with its unruly heartbeat – one that easily matched his – and your lungs refusing to take in a deep breath as the pleasant warmth spread through hands around you were easily a sign of who it was, every cell in your recognizing the contact.
Your eyes widened and your vision nearly blurred as you turned around to face the man you had not even realized was there but could recognize even with your eyes completely closed. “Chris?”
“Your highness.” his smile got even bigger when you turned to lock eyes with his and oh wasn't that a sight to make your entire day worth it, if anything making all of your worries and fears disappear. His eyes were so soft, filled with so much adoration and almost sparkling in a way you had not seen before.
You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, unable to believe he was there, looking at you so lovingly. His hands were cupping your face and only when you heard him whisper “Hello, my love.” did reality dawn on you. Realizing it wasn't a dream you almost squealed before you jumped in his arms, wrapping yours around his shoulders. Earning a deep chuckle that made his chest ramble, you couldn't hold your own laughter when you felt it against your own chest.
“Oh my gosh.” you choked out, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to force yourself not to cry “Chris.” you pulled just slightly away to look into his eyes, cupping his face in both your hands. Your eyes roamed over his face, taking everything in as it felt nearly impossible to believe this was happening. You leaned in to press your lips to his in an urgent kiss that still earned a soft laugh from him. You let out a soft breath when you pulled away and as you rested your forehead against his you repeated “Chris.” and he smiled even more widely “You're here. How?”
“Do you really question that? I would travel from the other side of the world for you.” and his smile turned into a small smirk “Isn't that what a prince always does?”
“Why-” your smile turned more into a smirk as you slowly started pulling away, despite the small sound of protest that came from his lips “I didn't know you were officially my prince charming. That is a title that must be earned, is it not?”
“And it would be my greatest honor to...” he started with a small smirk of his own which eventually faded much like his words as he fully took in the sight of you in the beautiful gown, with the jewelry and gloves adorning the whole look, you realised he was completely at a loss for words.
“Well, seeing as you didn't see the photos posted on instagram yet, I'll ask now: How do I look?” you probably already looked confident enough but that didn't mean you didn't want to hear his opinion more than anybody else's.
“Dear” his eyes were wide as he took everything in “Marry me already.”
And as you expected it wasn't he words, or at least not only the words, which made your heart leap to your throat. It was the pure love and awe that filled his eyes, his smile brighter than you had ever seen it. It was the way his voice became low, almost hoarse as if his throat closed from the overwhelming emotion in his chest. It was the way he reached out for you again and slowly traced his fingers over yoru cheek, touch light as a feather, as if he feared to break you. In his eyes you saw you were more than just a fragile porcelain doll, way more important and precious to him than anything actually.
“I'm fairly sure I wouldn't mind the idea, however, should you not do something heroic to say the least to earn that right? To have the hand of a princess and even more her heart, that requires more effort, don't you think?” you said with a smirk and he chuckled before straightening his back.
“Why, your highness, had I known you'd be so open to the idea I'd have brought the ring with me. It has been tucked in the back of my drawer for too long, I fear.” he said it so casually and truthfully, without a hint of pretend for the sake of the small momentary fairytale you were living through, that it made you pause for a second to hold your breath and blink at him.
Too caught up with your own thoughts you didn't even have the chance to question anything when he spoke again. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he slowly took both your hands in his, the act slipping for the moment, as he whispered again “My gosh, you look stunning. How did I ever get so lucky in my life?”
“It's no big deal.” you felt bashful all of a sudden and you were well aware it was because of the way your heart had sped up at the thought of said ring which he had joked about a long time ago but not in this way, not with such underlacedhonesty and seriousness.
“No big deal?” his eyebrows raised “I'm standing in front of the most beautiful disney princess to ever exist, both on the inside and on the outside. And on top of it all she is my girl and only mine. I'd say I don't deserve this kind of love but who am I to judge? My ideal fairytale I coming to life, this is too good to be true and yet it is. I'll take whatever you have to give me and offer everything I can in return. Who knows-” he pulled away, you not having realized when his forehead had come to rest against yours “Maybe I'll do a job good enough or the ring will be impressive enough to make at least a bit something like a prince charming.”
The wink he sent your way earned a laugh from your own lips, easing some of the tense feeling in your chest. You realised there was no reason to dwell on it or overstress it, not at the moment, so you let your smile become more easy if not more teasing “I'm sure you'd have plenty to offer, my kind sir. But first, if only in order for a proper courtship, you must have to catch me, don't you?”
“I must wha-” he started but all words died on his lips. You were sure he had already caught up somehow, the glint in his eyes telling you as much, but didn't give him the chance to fully question it before you were already pulling away from him and with a wink, opening the door and sprinting down the long hallway.
You heard the deep laugh, filling the entire hallway and with only the smallest glance over your shoulder you saw the man start to follow you fast enough. Grinning you picked up your dress and with that, picked up your pace so that you were running. As if the feeling of the dress bouncing around like a soft cloud, the air warm inside the building but present nonetheless - not only because of the running but also because of the studio you were fast approaching and that you remembered had more than a few doors and windows – wasn't enough to make you laugh, hearing your boyfriend's laughter as he tried to catch you get louder made you feel as if you were flying more than running.
“(Y/n)? What are you-”
You recognised the voice immediately but didn't have the time to reply let alone stop for even a second when you heard Chris get closer “Can't talk now Chrissy, I gotta go! Ah!” you actually yelped – or perhaps it was her, though the laughter that came next were surely hers when your boyfriend nearly bumped into John's wife and his apologies were the proof because you didn't turn to see – before you quickly run around a corner and down some stairs.
It wasn't even a couple seconds later that you found yourself running inside the studio itself, the cameras all around as the crew was setting everything up for the filming. You almost got so carried away by the entire place, many things having been added since the morning when you first showed up, and in the middle of admiring the realistic set of a castle they had managed to build. You were sure if you had not been in any hurry, you could have easily spent hours wanderingaround the place and admiring the detailed work, getting lost in a daydream much like a fairytale. But, again, you were in a hurry and as you felt the first fingers slip over your waist, aside from earning a small yelp from you they managed to get you moving again, or more specifically running.
“You have to be faster than that, darling.” you grinned, rounding the piano so that you were on the one side and he on the other.
“Who says I am being nearly half as fast as I can really be? Who says that if I really wanted to I wouldn't already have my hands on you?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you that made you giggle “I am merely being your perfect prince charming.”
“Alright, first; I like the sound of that but it's not going to make me give in just yet. And second; we both know that you're just being a sore loser here. You haven't caught me yet not because you can't. You're also a sore looser, not a prince charming, dear.”
He groaned, placing a hand over his chest “Another wound, all within the span of only a couple minutes. How do I survive this? Oh yes, in fairytales, a kiss always always does wonders, doesn't I? If only my princess would be kind enough to not run away from me anymore and instead save my life?”
You had to admit that although he was being both dramatic and cheeky, and you had to keep serious, you couldn't hold back your wide smile as you spoke “For starters, you will have to earn it. And-” you paused, jumping away as he made a move to run around the piano but you were fast to get away so that you had now swapped places “If I may ask, what's the first one?”
“Wouldn't you know? As if you can't see my bleeding heart which has been struck worse today at seeing you like this. But-” another jump that got him dangerously close “I suppose if I can't get a kiss, I will make it my last wish that you wear a similar dress soon.” his words made you frown until he added “Only in total white. And really, the soonest possible so we should probably start making a guests list.”
“Chris” you caught yourself pausing, longer than expected and than should be right in this case but you felt like you had no control of your body at the moment “This is not a funny joke anymore.”
“Who said it was one in the first place?” he asked, and you could swear you heard Chrissy and John gasp softly in the background. At some point you had even seen them but now your entire mind was blank. You focused on Chris, his voice much softer than before, his posture having relaxed as if to let you know he wasn't playing any game of sorts “And maybe-” he took a slow tentative step towards you, eyes on you to judge your reaction all the time. When he saw you didn't move away from him, he took more steps closer to you “If you'd let me, I could show you real soon that I was serious from the first moment.”
“Wha-” but you stopped yourself because you knew that wasn't the answer you wanted so bad to ask, it wasn't the one your heart longed for to be answered so instead you whispered “How?”
Chris leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, extending a hand which you took before he said another hing “First, I believe it's best if you get to job as fast as possible. And for that to happen, it would be right of me to stop playing around. So, what do you say we start things the way only in fairytales they do: a dance?”
“It doesn't necessarily happen in this order but-” you smiled, glancing over his shoulder to see John and his wife do the same, the music having only second now starting to play “I think we've already found the perfect song, so why not?”
“Think of it... as practice.”
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thepancakeboi · 4 years ago
Text
74. “I can’t take the loneliness anymore.”
Divergence AU Part I
Next | AU list | Prompt source
Fanfic under cut
10/9
Ren: Have you played never have I ever?
I stare at Ren’s most recent text. Where is this coming from all of a sudden? He’s been unfortunately busy the past several days, as he’s lamented to me over text. Perhaps he found himself some free time. A little curious about the reason for his text, I quickly text him back a response.
-x-
Goro: I have not, but I am familiar with the rules.
Ren: Would you wanna play?
Ren: Ann, Makoto, and Futaba will be there too
Goro: If you don’t mind me asking, why are you inviting me to play?
Ren: I like hanging out with you
-x-
Something about that response, the fact that he enjoys my company, makes me...happy. It’s not the first time he’s said it. He has told me over and over again that he loves being around me and that he would always try to make time for me if I wanted it. I look back down at the chat as I notice another text from Ren.
-x-
Ren: And they’ll gang up on me if you’re not there
Goro: I see... you have ulterior motives.
Goro: Not that it matters.
Goro: I highly doubt that they would “gang up” on you, though.
Ren: Trust me Akechi they will
Ren: Do you wanna play?
-x-
I take a minute to think it over. I don’t know his friends that well. This could give me an easy opportunity to get to know them a little better to improve my plans for them all. Having made my decision, I text him back.
-x-
Goro: I would be delighted to join you.
Ren: Yay! :D
Ren: We’re meeting up at Leblanc at 5
Goro: I’ll be there.
-----
I arrive at Leblanc a few minutes early. Ren perks up as the bell over the door rings, immediately grinning when he notices it’s me. He leads me upstairs to his room up in the cafe’s attic. “Hello,” I say in greeting, noticing that the others are already here.
“It seems we’re all here,” Makoto remarks when I sit down beside Ann, Ren taking the seat next to me. “Who wants to go first?”
Futaba nearly jumps in her seat as she answers, “I will! Never have I ever worn fake glasses!”
“I told you,” Ren remarks while putting down a finger. “I’ll go next. Never have I ever not attended high school.” Futaba makes an overly dramatic wounded expression as she puts down her own finger. She should have seen that one coming.
“Your turn, Akechi!” Ann says.
“Very well,” I reply, mulling over a response in my head. “Never have I ever attended Shujin Academy.”
Futaba laughs as Ann, Makoto, and Ren all have to put down a finger. “This one’s in my party now!”
“I thought you were on my side,” Ren says, pouting a little.
I shake my head. “I wasn’t targeting you in particular, Amamiya-kun. It was simply an option that applied to a lot of people.”
Ann smiles, apparently already having her statement prepared. “Okay, my turn. Never have I ever taken mock college entrance exams.”
Makoto and I both put down a finger while she thinks of hers. “Never have I ever...been told I look drop-dead gorgeous?” I’m glad Ren doesn’t say anything as I put my second finger down, although he looks like he’s tempted. Ann has to put one down as well.
Futaba grins eagerly, clearly still bent on going after Ren. “Never have I ever been in a bathhouse.” Ren somehow has the nerve to smile when I realize Futaba’s statement is also true for me. He’s definitely remembering that day from last month. Futaba seems a little surprised at this. “Hey, I got a two-hit combo there!”
“Never have I ever slept for longer than 48 hours in a row,” Ren immediately shoots back.
My turn. “Never have I ever been to a beach.”
I give a little giggle as everyone is affected besides me. Ren looks at me, curious. “Wait, you haven’t?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“That’s it. Next summer, I’m taking you to the beach.”
...I don’t need my mind telling me that he won’t be alive long enough for the sentiment to matter.
Luckily, Ann is able to draw me out of my thoughts. “Never have I ever fell asleep studying.” Great. I put down my fourth finger. “Wait, you have?” she asks in disbelief.
“It was really cute actually,” Ren says for me. “We were studying together downstairs and he fell asleep leaning against m-”
“I think that’s enough information from you, Amamiya-kun,” I interrupt. “Niijima-san, I believe it’s your turn?”
Makoto nods in acknowledgment. “Yes. Never have I ever spent over 100,000¥ in one purchase.”
Futaba looks straight at Ren as both of them have to put a finger down. “Never have I ever committed a crime IRL!”
Ren looks almost distraught as he sighs, now only having four left. Whether or not he’s being overly dramatic about it is left up to debate. My right index finger twitches, as if my subconscious is tempted to be honest. I can’t, though. If they knew the truth about me...besides, there would be too many questions that I simply couldn’t answer without spinning a giant web of lies. It’s simply too early for that, but...could I really-
“Futaba, that statement applies to you as well,” Makoto remarks.
“Whaaa?”
“Hacking government websites is a crime.”
“Aww, man,” Futaba groans.
Ren smirks, looking rather smug at the moment as he says, “Okay, never have I ever...”
The game continues on for a little while. Ren is the first to be eliminated, largely due to Futaba targeting him, although I am the one to take him out (and not on a date like he suggested when I said as such). Makoto ultimately wins in the end. We’re all departing when Ren asks if I want to stay and play some chess. I accept the offer, surprisingly enthusiastic. I’m not even paying much attention to the game itself. Something is on my mind. Why is it that I am eager to spend so much time with Ren? I know I need to get close to him, but I’m genuinely enjoying the time spent with him. Am I getting too close?
“So, Akechi...what crime did you commit besides being drop-dead gorgeous?”
I nearly drop the rook in my hand, startled. “Huh? What are you getting at?”
“Don’t act like you haven’t. I saw your finger twitch. You wanted to put your finger down, didn’t you?” I don’t bother answering, instead deciding to place the rook down on a new spot. The game is almost reflective of the current situation. Ren has me cornered. “Knew it. But who would’ve guessed? Ace detective Goro Akechi, secretly a criminal? Come on, spill the details!”
“Do I have to?”
“I told you mine. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
“Very well...I robbed the 777 in Shibuya when I was eleven years old,” I easily lie. “Happy now?”
“I would be...if you were telling the truth.” He moves his knight, taking the rook I had moved earlier and trapping my king. Checkmate. “If you really don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. I won’t force it.”
I’m silent for a few minutes. Ren, true to his word as ever, doesn’t try to force me to talk. Finally, I say, “You won’t like the real answer.”
“You can tell me if you want. I won’t judge.”
His words bring me to a decision. I just hope I don’t come to regret it. Sakura-san isn’t here, leaving me free to say my next words. “We should find somewhere else to talk, preferably somewhere where no one can eavesdrop. Surely you know such a place...Joker.”
His head jolts slightly, the only indication that the name I had heard him being referred to as in the Metaverse means anything to him. I find this confusing. I would have expected him to have a stronger reaction. “I do. Let’s go.”
Ren remains surprisingly silent after that. Normally, I would welcome it, but this silence is...unnerving. He’s rarely this quiet around me, and when he is, he still manages to constantly remind me of his presence. This is different. Right now, it feels like he’s trying to hide in the backdrop and make himself inconspicuous. What is going on in that head of his? I’m almost tempted to ask him what he’s thinking about if only to get him to say something, anything. I don’t. There will be plenty to talk about soon enough.
The time both drags on and speeds right along as we arrive in Shibuya. We exit the train, Ren leading the way up to the station square. He pulls out his phone, looking at me to see if I am ready. I nod. This is it.
The familiar dizziness signals our entering the Metaverse. It’s a feeling I may never get used to. My outfit has changed to my white princely attire. Good. I don’t know if I’m prepared to reveal that just yet. I turn to see Ren in his own thief attire. “How did you find out?” he asks, his voice finally breaking through the uncomfortable silence. His demeanor has changed. He seems more confident, and he has a sort of aggressiveness that he rarely exhibits in the real world. Even his gaze is sharper, more intense. I may know him as Ren Amamiya, but right now, the one I am facing is Joker.
“Your friend...I believe he goes by Skull here? He should learn to keep his voice down.”
“Are you gonna turn us in?”
“I should arrest you.”
“Should?”
“But I won’t.” Not yet, at least.
“And you have a Persona?”
As expected, he’s asking so much, trying to figure me out. I’m not going to stop the flow of questions. “Yes. I do.”
“How did you discover the Metaverse?”
“A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to get evidence of your group’s identity as the Phantom Thieves. I must have been dragged inside.” It’s partially true. I had been gathering evidence to later blackmail them, but I had gone into the Palace on my own volition. That and I’ve been here many times before that day.
“You’re lying.”
I raise an eyebrow, even if he probably can’t see it under my mask. “What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t just discover the Metaverse recently. You’ve known about it for longer than that.”
“And what evidence do you have to support your deductions?”
“That day at the TV station. You thought you heard something about delicious pancakes, but...Morgana was the only one who mentioned them.” I stare at him. Does he mean to say what I think he is? “You know, the cat,” he adds.
So the cat in his bag is the small black and white creature that accompanies them in the Metaverse. And by hearing him in Madarame’s Palace, I- “...Oh.” Now I understand. If I had been telling the truth, I should not have been able to understand the cat in June. “So that’s how you figured it out.”
Joker nods. “What are you hiding from the Phantom Thieves...and from me?”
I turn my back on him. There’s only one thing left for me to do. “Maybe it’ll be best if I show you.”
One of these days, I knew I would be showing him my true colors. Never had I anticipated it would be like this. My outfit shifts and morphs in an explosion of black and red fire crawling up my body. White and red is replaced with black and blue. I turn to face him just as the transformation is complete, the world tinted red by the lenses of my mask.
“A black mask,” Joker whispers. It’s clear he’s trying to process the truth of the matter, that I’m the person he’s been hunting down since Kaneshiro’s Palace. To his credit, Joker doesn’t look incredibly surprised, even if I’m sure he is. He hides it well. “You’re...”
“That’s right,” I reply, my voice nearly a snarl. “I’m the one who’s causing the scandals everyone has been talking about. The mental shutdowns. The psychotic breakdowns. They’re all because of me. Oh, and Okumura? He’s as good as dead.”
There’s that look of surprise I’ve been anticipating. “You killed him?”
“Yes. I did.” I take the mask off, looking right at Joker as I say, “You wanted to know what crimes I’ve committed. Well, there’s your answer.”
“Why?” he finally asks.
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“This being?”
“All of it, I guess.”
“My Metaverse activities are all part of a plan that’s been two years in the making,” I start, being purposefully vague. This isn’t where I had been expecting this conversation to go.
“A plan?”
“Yes. A plan to settle a...very personal grudge.”
“Who’s this grudge against?” I put my mask back on, hiding my facial expression. Joker’s latest question is one I cannot answer. He’s not satisfied. “What’s their name?”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to force it.”
“I just wanna help,” he says, about to approach me. “Please-”
“I don’t want your pity!” I yell.
He stops, realizing that right now may not be the best time to get near me. “I’m not pitying you.”
“Oh, really?” I hiss. “Then why go this far to help me!?”
“Because I care about you.” He...cares about me? How could he possibly...? I don’t understand. He should be hating me right now! Yet he claims that he cares about me, even now. “One more thing. If you’re not wanting my help, then why are you telling me any of this?”
My response comes unfiltered, hiding nothing from him. “I...I can’t take the loneliness anymore.”
Joker’s response surprises me even more. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He says it with no doubt or hesitation. He truly believes that he’ll be there for me when I need him. As selfless as ever. But I won’t rely on him. I refuse to let him help me because whatever ridiculous savior complex he has tells him to. As if sensing my thoughts, he adds, “We could make a deal instead if you want.”
“A deal?”
“I’ll help you with your plans if you help me find the man who accused me of assault.”
That has me on edge. “Just what are you planning?”
“I want to help, no matter what it takes. It’s not pity, Akechi. I want to prove that.”
“And you think that, by striking a deal with me, you’ll be able to convince yourself it isn’t? Don’t make me laugh.”
“You wanted to help me, remember?” His question gives me pause. I had offered to help, yes. When he rejected my offer, I had even tried to insist on helping, but he refused to budge. “I wanted to deal with it on my own, just like you. I told myself, ‘It’s just a year.’ But we’re doing this the wrong way. We’re strong, but I don’t think we should be doing this alone. So, let’s do this...together.”
“How idiotic could you get? We’re enemies-”
“Rivals,” he immediately interjects.
“Fine. Rivals. But we’re not meant to work together.”
“Even rivals team up sometimes.”
“You...” I manage to hold back a laugh as I continue, “You have some strange logic sometimes.”
“So?” Joker extends his hand. “Do we have a deal...Goro?”
It takes me a few moments of sputtering over him calling me by my first name to get out a response. I take his hand in mine, making sure not to accidentally jab him with my clawed gauntlets. “Fine. I accept your proposal.”
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ducktracy · 5 years ago
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113. a cartoonist’s nightmare (1935)
release date: september 14th, 1935
series: looney tunes
director: jack king
starring: billy bletcher (beast, villains, pianist), tommy bond (beans)
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so beans doesn’t actually have a voice credit—it seems he’s unknown for this cartoon. to me he sounds like tommy bond (who would provide his voice), but i’m no expert. regardless! beans’ first solo cartoon!
this is an interesting case to note. beans (and of course porky) would be the first star to debut in a merrie melodies cartoon as opposed to a looney tunes cartoon. there was a rule that merrie melodies couldn’t feature reoccurring characters—i hesitate to say that with confidence, since peter rabbit was used in country boy and my green fedora, and a buddy facsimile was used in mr. and mrs. is the name, but generally characters weren’t reused, much less brought over into other divisions (bosko was never in any merrie melodies, buddy wasn’t 100% established to be in a merrie melodies). so, beans is the first to be brought over! tex avery would also break the rule with daffy duck in egghead in 1938, bringing daffy over from looney tunes to merrie melodies and also reusing egghead from egghead rides again.
in terms of synopsis: a cartoonist is dutifully working on a beans cartoon, but falls asleep. the villain in his project comes to life and kidnaps the cartoonist, and it’s up to beans to save the day.
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a precursor to termite terrace? animators bustle to and fro in a cartoon studio that looks like it was spawned from a love affair between dr. seuss and tim burton. a highly prestigious studio, as indicated by the sign out front: animated cartoon studio. a rather bored, anthropomorphic whistle (jack king’s disney roots seep into its design, animated by bob mckimson) nonchalantly checks it’s stopwatch and gives a tired bellow to indicate the day’s end.
the distance shot of the studio is impressive as all of the animators leave, lights switching off and even an animator jumping off the roof and traveling via umbrella. various workers bids the elderly groundskeeper goodnight as he locks up for the night.
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a lone cartoonist diligently pumps out more work, adding to a towering stack of frames. the groundskeeper pokes his head in, asking “ya gonna work all night, son?” the cartoonist shrugs. “i gotta finish tonight.” with a bid of good luck, the groundskeeper leaves the animator to his work.
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we then spot the fruits of his labor as a close up of the animator’s work is shown. he’s working on a beans cartoon, drawing a ferocious monster and painting him in. the monster comes to life and gives a terrorizing grunt, cornering a terrified beans. a fun choice to make the animator analyze his work, chuck jones providing the animation of the animator commentating “well, beans, i guess i’ll have to save ya from the villain again!” he sticks his hand into frame and pulls the monster off of beans. furious, the beast turns his attention to the animator instead. the animator uses this as an opportunity to paint some protective iron bars in front of beans, essentially jailing him. delighted, beans teases the beast by blowing a party streamer in his face.
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eventually, the animator tires himself out and falls asleep. time marches on, and his drawings remain sentient. trouble arises as the villain reaches out of the frame and drags the animator inside, jack king providing one of his great perspective shots (above). i’ve come to really appreciate how he plays around with different perspectives and closeups, it brings a lot of liveliness and interest. obviously, the animator is wide awake by now, struggling as the villain takes him away. beans speaks his first lines (that isn’t limited to billy bletcher going NYEEEH in i haven’t got a hat)— “hey! let go of him!”
the beast drags the poor animator through the dungeons of the animated world—not far off from some working conditions at certain studios. as the beast drags his victim down a set of rickety stairs, a loose piece of board flies up and clobbers the villain on the head. the beast, assuming it was the work of the cartoonist, punches the sheepish animator in the face.
past the gag department, story department, and music department they go, each department barred behind an intimidating iron door. there’s some sort of weird lawn mower weapon—like a barbed mower. essentially, a painful prop. the animator accidentally prompts the handle to thwack the beast in the head, who gives him another pounding.
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finally, the beast arrives at his destination: the cartoon villains chamber. sound effects are jarring and unfitting (yet almost humorously so) as a laser sound effect accompanies the monster punching the cartoonist, sending him flying. he bumps into a portrait of a kangaroo labeled “battling barney”. barney’s joey leaps out of its pouch and sends the cartoonist hurtling once more towards the main villain.
one by one the animator receives a plethora of beatings, from the beast to the octopus from mr. and mrs. is the name. thus sparks a musical segment from the villains, the villains lamenting about how they’ve been mistreated and now the cartoon will finally get his, the song a parody of “the teddy bear’s picnic”. i find it interesting that jack king included musical numbers in his cartoons. from the beginning, those working on the merrie melodies complained about how a nice story would be rolling along and then an arbitrary song would disrupt momentum. it seems as though king had the opposite gripe—he wanted to insert more music into his cartoons. an interesting choice. the lyrics are amusing and dark, the chorus going “the tables are turned and now you are in our clutches!” bletcher also reprises his role as the mad pianist from buddy the detective.
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the villains reveal their motive: they want to force the animator down a bottomless pit, making him draw his demise. the poor cartoonist has no choice but to obey. he hesitantly draws a giant circle on the ground, preparing for his demise.
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elsewhere, beans is still behind bars, sulking. someone dressed in a woman’s disguise sneaks beans a loaf of bread (the scene animated by bob clampett), much to beans’ delight as he exclaims “food!” he takes a big bite out of the bread, but recoils. inside the bread is a handsaw, perfect to cut the bars with. beans saws his way through the metal as we cut back to the kidnapped animator, peering into a bottomless pit.
after some stalling, the animator is thrown down the pit. it seems there IS a bottom, inhabited by a hungry alligator. narrowly does the cartoonist escape being eaten, a branch catching him by the pants. regardless, the cartoonist momentarily dives into the alligator’s mouth, the gator’s dentures dangling off his head. paul smith animates a closeup of the toothless and tearful alligator. not to fear—the cartoonist returns the alligator’s dentures, who thanks him with a snap of the jaws.
beans manages to saw his way out and make his escape. he runs ACROSS the stairs, floating on air instead of descending—a cartoon staple. sliding down a giant pole, beans skids along the ground and knocks into a barrel, the metal rings constricting around beans. a crash to the wall sends the rings flying back into their respective place on the barrel.
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curious, beans pokes his head in to watch the torture. all of the villains are gathered around the pit, having a hearty laugh. concocting a plan, beans places two boots at the doorway of the chamber. don williams animates the two boots who come to life, matching forward towards the hairy beast and giving him a swift kick in the ass.
undoubtedly, the villain takes notice and spots beans teasing the villains at the door. beans dashes away and a chase breaks out as the villains follow. they all pass by the barrel from before... which is inhabited by a proud beans. the coast clear, beans darts back into the chamber and analyzes the pit, scratching his head as he thinks of a way to help the cartoonist. the cartoonist cries for help, the hungry jaws of the alligator nearing him as he perches on the branch that saved him.
with some quick thinking, beans yells “hey, catch this pencil!”, tossing down the pencil the cartoonist used in his suicide mission. the cartoonist catches it, beaming as he acknowledges his power. he draws an extendable ladder, turning the crank and scaling to safety.
never a peaceful moment in the cartooning business as the main beast pokes his head inside the chamber, growling at beans. they have a mini chase sequence as the animator scales to safety. the beast momentarily loses beans, who notices the animator and shushes him. an abrupt jump cut to beans holding a grease gun, lubricating the floor. he whistles to summon the attention of the villains, and his plan unfolds swimmingly. all of the villains slide straight into the bottomless pit. the cartoonist gives the hairy beast an extra punch for good luck, the beast struggling to stay on the ground. once all of the nuisances are in the pit, the animator enlists in the help of an eraser and erases the pit in the floor. beans and the cartoonist slap and shake hands together, beaming at their teamwork.
bob mckimson animates the scene of the elderly watchman shaking the animator awake as we fade back to the present. the cartoonist ogles at the audience, exclaiming “wotta dream!” a very literal title to the cartoon. he resumes his work, back to where he left off: the beast terrorizing beans, who’s cowering behind bars. in the style of bosko, the talk-ink kid, the cartoonist sucks the beast back into his pen, as well as the iron bars.
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but his work isn’t done yet. as a reward, he sketches out a heaping plate of jello that has beans’ name written all over it. he calls “come and get it!” beans doesn’t have to be told twice—he gorges himself gleefully, eventually disregarding the spoon and licking it straight from the source. iris out.
this was a very creative and fun cartoon! a good choice for beans’ first solo act. it felt like a mashup of bosko, the talk-ink kid and duck amuck. i like beans—probably just the relief at the newness of a character and knowing things are starting to gain traction, but he’s cute. not as bland as buddy, but still maybe not as dimensional as bosko. the animation was intriguing and fun in the cartoon, and the underscore of the teddy bear’s picnic was an odd yet amusing choice. i certainly think this is king’s best entry yet. i haven’t seen all of king’s cartoons, but out of the ones i have, this is my favorite. a fun premise and lots of personality. the story doesn’t feel too dragged out or redundant, a nice balance between the cartoonist, the villains, and beans. jack king and tex avery would split the difference making the beans cartoons: jack king 7, tex 2, and friz freleng 2 (i haven’t got a hat and his cameo in country mouse). overall, a fun, high energy cartoon that’s worth a watch. though it doesn’t have many gags, the story and premise are interesting enough, as is the historical significance of it being beans’ first solo debut.
link!
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ijustwantdumpling · 5 years ago
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Modaozushi Fanfic Recommendation.
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Since I can’t get enough of this novel, might as well pampering/hurting my self more with an outstanding fanfic/canon divergence of this great book. Even the live action and the anime version still nor gonna stop me from these beautiful handmade story by all the fans of Modaozushi.
This recommendation will be focusing on our WangXian couple
 1.Cure by Yukirin_Snow 
Description : It was meant to be a consult, simple, quick, to tell the family and patient that there wasn’t much he could do. Even after all the other doctors, the tests, the treatments, and the huge stack of documentation on his desk that told him this poor patient could only remain comfortable until his final moments.
So how had it ended up like this?
(It was well written and you could see how well researched this fanfic is. I Spent my night in tears reading this beautiful fanfic. tips : prepare some tissue and we gonna go on emotional roller coaster.)
status : Multi-chaptered / Completed
2. SanRen by Kyogre
Description : Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator.Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war.However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.
(a canon divergence, but at least everyone alive here.)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
3. My Immortal by Jaywalker_Holmes
Description : Wei WuXian had thought his troubles had ended after the mess with Jin GuangYao was sorted out, and that he would spend the rest of his life happily with his beloved Lan Zhan, double cultivating and rebuilding his golden core. However, fate had other plans. Mo XuanYu's frail body could not contain his increasing power, and an inevitable cultivation accident occurs, sending Wei WuXian to his six-year old body, just before Jiang FengMian found him. Will the YiLing Patriarch have a happier life this time around?Inspired by Evanescence's song, which will be reflected in the chapter titles.
(A time travel series! there’s a heavenly beast and everyone is alive and thriving also what I really love the most is soft hearted madam Yu and a creepy/psycho wen ruohan who’s everyone number onecenemies but at least he didn’t die so we could actually know what was he’s motivation actually is or.. just him being psycho)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
4. Loneliness Knows My Name by  Jaywalker_Holmes , Treef
Description :  AU after the First Siege of Burial Mounds. Wei WuXian didn't die, instead he was saved by someone everyone thought was already dead - Wen Ruohan. However, no one knows this (since Wen Ruohan is apparently great at faking deaths), so the cultivation world rejoices even as Lan WangJi desperately searches for his Wei Ying and finds a little child instead. Wei WuXian, on the other hand... 
(well.. can you imagine Wen Ruohan became Wei Wuxian grandpa? this definitely change everything.)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
5. Night of Sixth Magnitude Stars by Leffy
Description : Lan WangJi gave him a disapproving look as they left the classroom. “You can’t be late every time.”Wei WuXian walked with light steps, seemingly in a happy mood. “They can’t fault me if I want to spend more time with the only student who really listens to me.”Lan WangJi followed reluctantly, because Wei WuXian always made him follow, even when he was driving him crazy.
( A modern AU! at first I was hesitated because I was to used with the time setting in the novel but my hesitation was just a complete stupid waste of time because this fanfic definitely GOLD)
status : Multi-Chaptered /Completed 
6. Blink  by Menuridae
Description : “So on Saturday night, while you are having the time of your life on a date with your hot, hunky, handsome soulmate, I have to go on a date with a rich young master who sounds like a literal stick in the mud whilst pretending to be you?"Mo Xuanyu's family has set him up on a blind date with a rich young master after learning he is gay. However, he already has plans for that night. Instead of going on the date himself, Mo Xuanyu enlists Wei Wuxian to go as a substitute. Wei Wuxian must act like his best friend for the night before kindly turning down Mo Xuanyu's date.Only, Wei Wuxian finds out that turning down Mo Xuanyu's date is possibly the hardest thing he has had to do in a long time.
(single parent LWJ and we should thanks Mo Xaunyu for he is actually our savior)
status :Multi-Chaptered /Completed
7. the nights are long (but the years are shorter) by hyunbyun
Description :  Wei Ying and Lan Zhan come to terms with the fact that A-Yuan really is grown up.
(WangXian became a soft parent and somehow I pictured my parent actually felt the same in each year I grew up.)
status : Oneshot 
8. Ten miles of Lotus Flowers by Yukirin_Snow
Description : He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.
(A/B/O Dynamic and Mpreg. very well written and my heart broke most of the time thankyou very much but it’s happy ending tho)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
9. Switched by Shorimochi 
Description : When an actor transmigrated into a fictional world, and a fictional character transmigrated into the real world.There are a lot of things Xiao Zhan could do - sing, dance, act, cook, draw - but not fighting cultivators, and definitely not summon an army of corpses! Most importantly, how can he handle being around Wang Yibo's fictional self when he knew the man had been fantasising about him since fifteen?Wei Wuxian swore just a few minutes ago he was still out there, destroying the Wens who had taken away his home, but when he opened his eyes he arrived at a dreamland where there are moving pictures, metal carriages, and people are so rich they poop in a beautiful white porcelain throne. Also, why does the Lan Zhan he saw smile so often and talk so much?
(LWJ reputation was definitely tainted! I laugh so much but this ff is actualy genius. let’s see how Xiao Zhan, a real life actor who played wei wuxian and who knew  better about how his character specially the story line trying to save that massive bundle of trouble)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
10. Don't You Like Me (MDZS Edition) by Shorimochi 
Description : Wei Wuxian was just an ordinary teenager at Gusu Academy. He hung out with friends, break the rules at least once a day, and banter with his roommate, Lan Wangji at every opportunity he had.Life had been normal, until his grandfather passed away and left him an ancient relic that gave him the Yin eyes, causing him to be able to see and communicate with ghosts. Wei Wuxian was horrified to discover that everywhere around him, there were ghosts invading his space, even watching him shower! He wasn't able to sleep, eat, or study properly - until one day he accidentally touched Lan Wangji skin-to-skin, and the ghosts simply disappeared. Hmm?Wei Wuxian discovered that a simple brush of hands closed his Yin eyes for five minutes. A hug, fifteen minutes. Exchanging saliva? (Don't ask how)... Two hours. And so he began sticking close to Lan Wangji for as much and as long as he could.Until he got kabedon'ed by his roommate.LWJ: You try to touch me at every opportunity you have. You like me, don't you? WWX: ... (Unable to answer because of the curse of the seal) LWJ: I like you too. WWX: ??!Based on a novel of the same title.
(A modern AU, a have good laugh also wei wuxian was very meanie to our soft hearted lwj.)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed 
11. no other cloud compares to you by ectocosme
Description :  Divine beasts sometimes fall in love with humans. Half-divine beast most often than not. Dragons always. Wei Wuxian visits Cloud Recesses when he receives the first 'hail' of who will become his mate. At least, he is determined for them to become mates. But life does not flow as the river, it is a meandering stream easily disturbed.
(Wei Wuxian as a dragon! also wangji are just so stupid smh..)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Ongoing
12. Sky, Cloud and Lotus by Xantya24
Description :  Wei WuXian is an unruly omega that is mated to one of the Twin Jades of GusuLan, Lan WangJi an alpha. Till one day, they find out that Wei WuXian is pregnant. How will the new mated couple react to the news? It will be one hell of a ride. Raising kids is definitely different from raising buns buns. From morning sickness to weird cravings to mood swings to labor to sleepless nights. To new relationships being build to finding about love. Lots of angst and fluff also. Prepare for the feels.
status : Multi-Chaptered / Ongoing 
13. ShuangXiu by panda_desu
Description : Lan XiChen knows he must sound so stupid right now. He clears his throat. "I am sure this is something to expect from a married couple, but Wangji, I have to ask, how?"Lan WangJi looks impassively at Lan XiChen.
(mpreg but not abo dynamic but somehow it’s make sense! well at least for mdzs universe. love how the author deliver it and makes the theory acceptable so it’s not like wei ying getting pregnant out of nowhere. loved it!)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed 
14. MDZS drabbles by Demon_neko97
Description :  This is just a collection of the prompt requests I receive on Tumblr. (The prompt request is already closed.)
(collection of drabbles, fluffy, funny, perfect for times when you just want to keep it light and better mood)
status : Drables / Ongoing 
15. The Light That Fails to Dim by glowingreverie
Description : Wei Ying lost his parents in a night hunt. Cold and alone, he wandered the streets of Yiling for nearly two years. However, one fateful night, a tall, scary man finds him and takes him back to a place he calls Qinghe. Later Wei Ying, now known as Wei Wuxian, discovers that that tall, scary man is not bad at all. And his cowardly brother makes an even better friend than he initially thought he would. With a content feeling in his chest every day, Wei Wuxian can only hope these peaceful, happy days with his new family will last until the end of time.Or, in which Jiang Fengmian is unaware of what happened to Wei Wuxian's parents and Nie Mingjue takes him in and the story continues from there...
(things really get different over there and I might say this is a great one. I just love nie huaisang so much fight me) 
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
16.Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 
Description : There is something called a memory ball, or Jiyi Qiu, that shows the memories of a chosen person.In order to further incriminate the already dead Yiling Patriarch, the cultivation world decides to use this memory ball at the next Discussion Conference to show how evil the demonic cultivator can truly be.What appears, though, truly shocks them all.
(a cried a river. heartbreaking but satisfied just to imagine those guilty faces) 
status : Multi-Chaptered /Ongoing
17. Jiang Cheng and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Wedding by hyunbyun
Description :  An outside perspective on modern! Lan Zhan’s and Wei Ying’s wedding through the eyes of local poor soul Jiang Cheng.
(Heartwarming, it literally bring smile to my face and this is just so good. you have to read this one) 
status :  Oneshot
18. Family - Mating Season by Laxruar
Description :  Fairy isn't a good dog.
(Laugh my ass out, literally!) 
19. Instagram Husband by hasu, ofishenod
Description :  Wei WuXian was on a mission to become Instagram Famous, so he did what he did best: dragged Lan WangJi (and many unwilling others) into his misadventures. Or, 5 times Wei WuXian had Lan WangJi take photos of him and 1 time Wei WuXian took a photo with Lan WangJi.
(if I don’t get the lan wangji for my wei wuxian, then what’s the meaning of this life?!)
status : Oneshot.
20. The Tale of Snow Wei by scrayjes
Description :  
 Snow Wei is a powerful warlock; The mage is as strong-willed as can be; The prince should watch his anger; The donkey should roam free.
(wei wuxian as a snow white? yes. )
status : Oneshot 
21. Response by  Aki_no_hikari
Description : What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry? Part 2: Featuring A-Yuan
(a-yuan T.T loving it!) 
status : Multi-Chaptered 
22. Some of You by Tangerinechar
Description : It can’t be that bad, he thinks. There’s no way he would have done that. But the doubt still lingers, turning into full-blown anxiety as he scrolls down his twitter feed, finally arriving on his latest tweet.
Lan WangJi ✔ @lan_wangjiSome of you have never fallen in love with a boy only for him to go missing after his parents die and pine away for three years waiting for him to come back, then continue to pine when he’s back after you realize you’re too scared to confess, and it shows.23,043 retweets | 73,328 likesLan Zhan’s face pales and he buries his head in his hands, letting his phone drop on the table.
This is bad.This is very, very bad.-Or, Lan Wangji gets drunk and tweets a love confession, Wei Wuxian panics, and all of twitter decides to matchmake Lan Wangji and his mystery guy.
(wei wuxian is that dense! smh) 
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
23. asymptotic by chinxe
Description : The members of the Lan Clan have never been particularly well-known for their good judgement when it comes to matters of the heart.Which is why it should come as a surprise to no one when Lan Wangji falls in love with an actual ghost.
(”wei ying is wei ying” lwj just so hopeless when it’s about wwx)
status : Multi-Chaptered / Completed
if you already read all of those fanfics above then congratulation! you’ve already going through a high level of mood changing, tear jerking, blood pulsing, head aching, tooth aching fluff and thousands more feelings! what a ride!. 
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mistressarafax · 5 years ago
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KaiJou Week - #1: Date Night
This is something I’d been wanting to do for a while, and date night seemed like the perfect prompt! Set in the Preferable Reality universe for anyone interested.
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Bakura had been the first to arrive at the quaint bar just a few blocks from the game shop. He had headed there after his evening class finished. He and Yugi went to school together, but their schedules were very different. They still managed to see each other at school occasionally, meeting up for lunch and gaming sessions. He saw Yugi, as well as the rest of the guys, pretty regularly on Friday and Saturday nights, when they would meet up at the bar or Yugi's for dinner, drinks, and whatever activity ended up happening, whether a movie or a game.
Honda was the second to arrive, walking up and flopping down on the stool across from him. "What a day," he grumbled.
"What happened?" Bakura asked.
"Nothing much. Just a car that was a pain in the ass, and my manager was shitty about why I hadn't gotten it done faster."
"Oh. That's too bad."
"Yeah. I stayed late to get it done, then ran home to shower, but like...it sucked."
"At least you finished," Bakura contributed optimistically.
"True. Won't gotta deal with that shit more on Monday now."
Yugi walked in, joining them at the table, putting his black, leather coat over the back of his chair. "Hey guys!" he said cheerfully.
They chatted a bit and then went to the bar to order drinks for themselves. "So who we waiting on?" Tristan asked, holding his beer to his lips.
"Duke can't make it tonight. Joey's coming though."
"He did mention he was coming," Tristan commented. "I kinda figured he'd already be here. I don't think he has anything going on tonight."
"You know Joey," Bakura said. "He's never on time."
At that exact moment, Joey walked through the door. To his utter surprise, Kaiba followed right after him, and together, they approached the table. Bakura watched on as that sat down right next to each other.
"How's it going, Joey, Kaiba?" Yugi asked cheerfully.
"Not bad, Yug," Joey said. "And sorry we're late. Something came up." His cheeks were flushed, seemingly embarrassed, though it could have been from the cold air outside. Kaiba sat stoically next to Joey, saying nothing. Bakura wasn't sure why they Kaiba was there at all, but Yugi didn't seem bothered, and Tristan had seemed surprised for only a few seconds.
Joey leaned toward Kaiba. "I'm gonna go get a drink. Want somethin'?"
"I'll go with you," Kaiba said, standing up so the two could go to the bar together.
Bakura's surprise must have been obvious because Yugi laughed before explaining, "I guess Joey didn't tell you. They're...kind of...I  don't know. He insisted they aren't dating, but that's what it looks like, and they're definitely together."
Bakura agreed. It definitely looked like that were dating. Everything about how they were interacting screamed 'couple.' It was unexpected. Surprising. It took a second to process, and then he wanted to ask questions, but now was not the time for it. He would later. Whenever he had an opportunity to speak to Joey alone. Or maybe Yugi. Yugi probably knew most of the finer details.
"That's...peculiar," Bakura finally replied. However, he wasn't upset about Joey not personally telling him. That he was in a relationship with Kaiba wouldn't have been easy to share with Yugi or Tristan or anyone else for that matter. He glanced up at the bar, noting how Joey leaned against Kaiba, whispering something into the taller man's ear. They were close to each other. Casually touching and comfortable. It wasn't the sort of interaction he was used to seeing from them, but he found it cute.
"Can't say it makes any sense to me either, but I mean...hard to deny when they're here together," Tristan said. "He was real weird about coming out to me."
"Can you blame him?" Yugi asked.
"I do! He shoulda told me first!"
"I never expected Joey to bring him," Yugi said.
Tristan snorted. “I don’t think I would ever expect Kaiba to agree to come!”
The conversation shifted as Joey and Kaiba returned with drinks in their hands, going back to mundane conversation about what was going on in everyone's lives. Kaiba sat silently, messing around with his phone while seemingly not paying attention to their conversation. Bakura doubted that he wasn't actually paying attention. Kaiba was almost certainly weighing and measuring every word exchanged while feigning indifference.
It remained that way until Yugi addressed him directly. "So Kaiba, how are things going for you? I haven't seen you in a while."
Kaiba looked up from his phone, blues eyes flicking toward Joey for half a second before staring Yugi down. "Fine."
"I'm surprised you came along tonight."
"Hmm," Kaiba hummed in acknowledgement, but it wasn't close to being an actual answer.
Joey perked up and said, "I dragged 'im out. He'd be locked in his study all night otherwise."
"Do you have a lot of work?" Bakura asked.
Kaiba huffed. "Of course."
"He ain't got any work that can't wait for him to have some fun with me," Joey said.
Kaiba glared at him, and Bakura laughed. When they weren't going for each other's throats, they were entertaining to watch together. 
Tristan cut in, adding with a devious grin on his face, "Fun, huh?"
Joey flushed, stuttering out, "N-no! I d-didn't mean like that, ya perv!"
Yugi chuckled, and Bakura smiled, especially at the pinched, offended expression on Kaiba's face. But his cheeks were also tinted red, and Bakura suspected that 'fun' for them did include sex. In fact, as Kaiba tugged his turtleneck higher, Bakura thought, perhaps, that was the reason they'd arrived late tonight. Not that he was going to ask something so intrusive and rude.
If the others suspected the same as him, they didn't say anything. Kaiba stood up, announcing, "I'm getting another drink."
"Get me a beer, please," Joey called.
Kaiba gave him a single nod, and Bakura stood up to follow after him. He wanted another drink, as well, but he also wanted to talk to Kaiba privately.
"It's really kind of you to accompany Joey, Kaiba," Bakura said as they stood at the bar together.
"Mmm."
"I'm glad you two get along so well now. You seem happy."
Kaiba glanced over at him, blue eyes penetrating through him as though trying to judge the sincerity of his words, but Bakura meant it. He had no hard feelings toward Kaiba. He never had. And to see him out with Joey, trying to get along with everyone and content… Bakura was happy for him. For Joey, too.
"Thanks," Kaiba said gruffly.
Bakura grinned at him, but no other words were exchanged. They didn't need to be. They headed back to the table with drinks in hand, and conversation flowed as they all got more and more inebriated, though Kaiba stayed pretty quiet despite the alcohol. Joey, on the other hand, was getting louder as Tristan egged him on. Yugi was laughing too, and Bakura didn't bother to fight back his smile.
Kaiba's phone rang, interrupting their fun, and he stood up to take the call outside. Quiet fell over their group, and Joey watched him go. Bakura saw the look on his face. A look of admiration and want, a little lovestruck and hopeless. Probably not a look he'd have let himself show around all of them, but he couldn't stop himself while drunk.
Bakura reached out and touched his hand, drawing Joey's attention. "You'll have to tell me how it happened sometime," Bakura said softly.
"Yeah," Joey agreed sheepishly.
Kaiba marched back in. "I have to head home," he announced.
"What's up?" Joey asked, looking worried and disappointed at the same time.
"Mokuba isn't feeling well," Kaiba said, "and he asked me to go get him some cold medicine." 
Joey's tension eased. "Ah. I'll go with you then. Since we came together."
With only a raise of an eyebrow, Kaiba managed to ask, 'Are you sure?'
"It's no big deal. I'll hang out with everyone again later," Joey explained, standing up and pulling on his jacket. Bakura realized it was a new jacket, because it wasn't something he'd seen Joey wear before. It dawned on him that it was very likely something Kaiba had given him, warm and stylish for the impending winter temperature. "Sorry for cuttin' our date night short, guys."
"It's alright, Joey," Yugi said. "I'll let you know about next week."
"Sounds like a plan. I'll see ya guys later, alright?"
"See you two later!" Bakura called, waving at them as they headed off.
The pair disappeared out the front door of the bar, and Bakura shook his head. A thoroughly surprising yet still pleasant evening, and he hoped there would be many more to come.
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jcmorrigan · 5 years ago
Text
Sun-Kissed
The F/O? Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. The S/I? Rachel Scribere - mundie, writer of much fanfiction, independent contractor supervillainous minion who has also given up on adulting. (Most of those things apply to me IRL!) I really hope this intro hasn’t become repetitive, because it’s the best way I have to kick these things off. Anyway, this was inspired by me realizing we hadn’t kissed in the confession oneshot and then realizing it was an opportunity rather than a misstep. Also, if you saw the necklace prompt I sent to @selfshipimagines...yes, this is why I thought of it, which is why it’s here.
***
It began with Giovanni refusing to use a Dungeons & Dragons board and its associated miniatures for their intended purpose. He had scribbled the names of locales in our next planned heist over it, drawing out the floor plan, and I’m not exactly sure where he got miniatures customized to look like me and the rest of the official Blasters in his squad, but there we were, positioned across the D&D board on the table in the abandoned library that served as our “evil lair.”
           I came upon him there, in the Casual Friday wear of his worn gray sweater and a pair of beaten-up jeans, maneuvering the mini-minions around the board with intense concentration. “Composer,” he greeted without looking up. “What do you think is a more badass way of entering a building? Blowing up the ceiling and dropping in from above on parachutes, or tunneling in from underneath with a massive drill?”
           “Do we have a massive drill?” I asked, taking my place across from him at the table.
           “Not YET,” he said in the tone that indicated we could very possibly be in possession of one within a few weeks.
           “If you can get one,” I told him slyly, “then use it. WAY cooler than dropping in. Probably safer, actually.”
           “Good call, Composer! You get to take an extra percentage of the loot for your cut when we pull this off!”
           I never liked taking more than my share. Really, being an independent-contractor Banzai affiliate (who the upper echelons of the organization didn’t exactly…know about) was the only way to survive financially in this climate. All the same, if Giovanni didn’t bring back quota, he was more screwed than usual. I aimed for a balance. And tried not to let on just how much more I was making than him by hawking jewelry.
           Speaking of which, the reason I’d entered the room was concerning a rather special piece I’d lifted recently. Nothing that would go for any sum whatsoever. Something valuable in a different way.
           Now, how to bring that up?
           “Soooo,” I began, “you know how we’re…dating now?”
           “Why wouldn’t I?”
           Right. That wasn’t my smoothest opener. In my defense, we were still pretty new as an item. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d spilled his guts to me on a display bed in a mall department store with a broken leg –
           Okay, that’s kind of a “You had to be there” incident.
           The point is, we were only recently official, and I wanted to do a little something to commemorate that. Especially since we hadn’t hit a few rather…important landmarks. Like the first kiss. That hadn’t even happened on confession night, and it was rather tearing me apart, were I to be perfectly honest. I might have had a selfish agenda in taking the piece that currently rested in my jeans pocket – yes, I wanted him to have something nice, but also, maybe this would lead to the big moment.
           “Well,” I babbled, “I was just thinking that…we’re on the grid now, and…and that means we…that I should probably start…doing things a little differently, since you’re…special…and I’m…also special…and…”
           On the job, I can improvise. When writing fiction or accounts, I’m a wordsmith. When trying to talk to someone who made my heart flutter, I just couldn’t get to the fucking point.
           Or look directly at him, for that matter. It was kind of like looking into the sun.
           “…and I mean, I know we’re still starting out, and still figuring out boundaries like if kissing’s gonna be a thing, and I’ll admit I’m kinda new to this in general, but – “
           “WHAAAAAT?”
           I couldn’t help but look at him then – with the usual results, feeling like my circulation speed had suddenly spiked. He looked absolutely flummoxed. Angry, even. Like I’d told him he’d shown up five minutes late to the doorbuster craft sale where satin was on a massive discount (an incident I reference because I had seen this exact scenario take place and had to drive an incredibly peeved Giovanni home from while reminding him that we could just obtain it through less-than-legal means).
           “What do you MEAN we’re still figuring out kissing?” he ranted. “I’ve kissed you, right? It was great! I wouldn’t be so NEGLIGENT as to forget that!”
           Oh. So he knew. As of this moment, it had occurred to him. I could see right through him. I just shook my head wordlessly.
           “We HAVEN’T?” he said in awe. “Okay, I am FIXING that!” He pounded his fist on the table; the tiny Spike fell over, and he glanced at the miniature sheepishly before righting it with a whispered “Sorry. Won’t happen again.” Then he looked back to me. “But we SERIOUSLY haven’t kissed yet?”
           “…No,” I admitted. Which wasn’t exactly what I’d come there to say, but I would have been lying to say I hadn’t wanted to get to that discussion point sooner rather than later.
           “Well, we’re fixing that!” he declared. “Right here! Right now!”
           I very nearly exploded. I tried my best to keep calm. “You…sure? I mean, I kind of wondered if maybe you were putting it off because you didn’t actually wanna – “
           “No! We are DOING this! And it’s gonna be GREAT!” He’d risen, advancing to me. “I’m gonna be the best guy you’ve ever kissed!”
           Without even thinking, I teasingly replied, “That’s not a high bar.”
           Giovanni stopped in his tracks as I rose to try and meet his height. “What, you’re saying you’ve only dated bad kissers or something?”
           “Well, no,” I admitted, wondering just how far down this hole I should go. Honesty is the best policy, right? “I’ve just…never kissed ANYONE before. Which isn’t a big deal! It’s just – “
           He looked like I’d just slapped him across the face: eyes wide, jaw dropped. “You’ve NEVER – “ He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. Not here. Not like this.”
           “What?”
           “This is your FIRST FREAKING KISS!” He waved both hands in the air to emphasize his point. “I’m not just gonna plant one on you in the middle of the lair! No, you’re getting the best first kiss of your life – “
           “I’m pretty sure I can only get one first kiss in my life – “
           “And it’s gonna be somewhere SPECIAL, God DAMN it!”
           I closed my hand around the jewelry waiting in my pocket. He was going to make me wait to hand it over, wasn’t he? “What…did you have in mind?”
           Within moments, he’d (gently yet firmly) seized my free hand, beginning to lead me out of the library. “We’re gonna hit up all your favorite places in Sweet Jazz City until we find the one with the right atmosphere!”
           “Don’t you have a heist to – “
           “IT CAN WAIT!”
           Well, I wasn’t about to say no to that.
           The first place we tried was the actual public library that was still open, as that was one of my regular haunts. (Books you didn’t have to steal! What an innovation!) I found myself being led into the midst of the YA fantasy section, meaning that Giovanni really did know me far too well.
           “And here we are in your natural habitat!” he said proudly. “So…does this feel…you know, romantic?”
           “It’s good,” I said with a smile.
           Which was a mistake. “Good?” he repeated, one lower lid twitching. “GOOOOOD? This can’t happen unless it’s GREAT!”
           “No, no, it’s – “ Wait, why was I protesting? He and I were basically on the same page. I was just trying to be polite. “Okay. Really, it’ll be great no matter where it happens, but this feels a little…weird. Not exactly romance central.”
           “Good!” Giovanni insisted. “This is gonna be your first freaking kiss, remember? You gotta stand up for this kind of thing!”
           “Yeah, but it’ll seriously be – “
           “AND LET ME LIVE WITH THE BURDEN OF UNDERWHELMING YOU ON YOUR FIRST KISS?”
           “…Okay, I cave.”
           He seized my hand again; “Let’s head out! I know EXACTLY where we’re going this time!”
           We ended up in the middle of the craft store, of course. “Will you look at this?” he said, arms outstretched. “We’ve had so many good memories here.”
           “We have,” I agreed.
           “This is our place!” he said gleefully. “Our stomping grounds! Where you and I belong! So…yarn aisle or acrylic paint aisle?”
           I bit my lip.
           “…This isn’t it either, is it? C’moooooon, Composer, I said you gotta stand up about this and make it perfect, and I mean it!”
           “I’m just – I’m trying to be polite, okay?” I argued.
           “Well, we’re the bad guys! We might be secretly NICE, but we’re sure as hell not POLITE!”
           I wasn’t sure how to argue that point, as much as I knew it didn’t really make sense at all. “Can we pick somewhere that’s not…aisles?” I asked. “You know…rows of shelving. The library was the same problem. It’s just not the right aesthetic.”
           “Got it! No shelves! Onward!”
           The next place he picked out was the fountain in the square, and I had to admit that was a pretty impressive locale, aesthetic-wise. “Now, THIS is Romance Central!” he proclaimed proudly as he led me toward the structure. “Can you see anyone not kissing here? No. You can’t. Because it’s perfect.”
           It seemed good on paper, but the closer we got to the fountain itself, the more I began to get nervous. The square was full of heavy foot traffic at this time of day. There were hundreds of people who would potentially be…watching. And I was beginning to almost feel stage fright. Like I had to get this right, or the whole city would mock me.
           “Yeah,” I said nervously. “Definitely a fan favorite kissing spot.”
           How was I going to bring up –
           “Wait a minute. No. No!” He rounded on me, glaring. “We can’t just pick EVERYONE ELSE’S kissing spot! It’s gotta be our own! …Unless you really want here – “
           “No,” I said hurriedly. “Look, it’s hard to explain, but this isn’t it either.”
           “All right! Fourth time’s the charm!”
           We ended up in the zoo, and when I saw which exhibit Giovanni had led me toward, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Ta-daaaa!” he said as he gestured to the wide, open pen of lazy mammals. “Your favorite place in town, am I right?”
           Oh, how could I tell him this one?
           He read it on my face. With a sigh, he asked, “How did I mess up now?”
           “You’re not messing up!” I told him immediately. “It’s just…the bear exhibit isn’t my favorite place in town. It’s Molly’s.”
           Giovanni froze, blinking, wide-eyed.
           “You got me mixed up with your kid,” I teased, nudging his shoulder.
           “…Right,” he muttered. “Which animal was yours again?”
           “Giraffes and/or sharks.”
           “So you wanna – “
           “Not really.”
           “Okay. Next!”
           When I figured out he was leading me to the opera hall next, I practically collapsed laughing. “Gio…oh my God…”
           “Don’t tell me.”
           “This isn’t my favorite spot in town either. You know whose it is?”
           “Don’t say it – “
           “This is Sylvie’s,” I snorted. “You wanna tell me again how he’s NOT one of our kids?”
           “Shut up,” Giovanni muttered as he did an about-face to lead me away from the opera house.
           As we entered the park close to sundown, I admitted, “Gio, part of the reason this hasn’t been working is that I’m kinda freaked out by all the people. I just don’t want everyone to…watch this. It makes it feel like I gotta do this right, and I don’t even know if I’m any good at kissing.”
           “Sure you are!” Giovanni replied. “How could you NOT be? Trust me, I know these things. But if you want privacy, then dammit, I’m gonna get you privacy! Follow me to the love destination!”
           I had to admit this location had promise. It was further into the park, a wooded area next to a small brook framed with granite boulders. As we settled to sit in a gap between the rocks, the evening sun glittered off the surface of the water like a disco ball.
           “Much better,” I told Giovanni, shifting my legs to the optimal position for comfort.
           “So?” he asked. “Feelin’ it? Is this the place?”
           “I think this is the place.” And I meant it. The impending twilight filtering through the leaves felt rather ethereal. The brook’s soft yet constant babble provided some pleasant white noise.
           “Okay.” His voice cracked, and for the first time, I finally realized he was probably nervous, just like me. “So…we’re here. And it’s perfect. So…we can do this.”
           “We can,” I agreed.
           Neither of us wanted to be the one to move first. We just wanted it to happen on its own. But that wouldn’t happen unless somebody took initiative.
           Fuck it.
           “If you’re ready,” I told him, “I’m gonna just…I’m gonna do it.”
           “Do your worst, Composer.”
           At which point, he made the stupidest face I’ve ever seen him make in my life, bar none. Eyes shut, lips comically protruded forward – and I wondered how many people he’d actually kissed, though I wasn’t about to ask that.
           Okay. This shouldn’t be hard. Just put my mouth on his mouth. Easy. We didn’t even have to involve tongues yet. Like a sputtering car engine, I moved ever closer, bringing myself to the connection point –
           And he slapped his hand over his mouth before I could get there.
           “Is this too fast?” I asked. “Because we don’t have to do this – I mean, I know, some people just don’t do the kissing thing, and I think I’m one of those people who does, but – “
           “It’s not that!” he said, muffled and miffed. “You know I’ve seen every slasher movie in the book, right?”            “Uh…what does that have to do with – “
           “You think I haven’t seen this EXACT SCENARIO before?” he snapped from behind his hand. “Guy takes girl to the park, down by the river, for a romantic kiss. Guy whips out knife. Guy murders girl. Girl’s body gets dumped in the river. Guy goes on to commit series of increasingly more disturbing mutilations. And I am NOT going down that road!”
           I did a double take. “Gio…you know you could just…not kill me. You’re not a serial killer, you know.”
           “I know, but it still feels WRONG! We aren’t doing this here!”
           His hand was off his mouth and back over mine, leading me up and out of the park.
           “Where are we going now?” I asked as we headed back through the twilight.
           “I’m still working that out – “ He then froze in his tracks. “Of COURSE! It’s PERFECT! Okay, I have it this time, and I really mean that! Come on!”
           He picked up the pace, nearly pulling me over into a fall. He slowed a bit after remembering that my top running speed could be outdone by certain tortoises in the world.
           I wasn’t sure where this was going at all, at first. We headed into the outer edge of town, almost to the city limits, but not yet where the buildings’ height truly diminished into suburbia. Giovanni scoped out the apartment buildings here, trying to pick out one of sufficient height. I wondered if he was going where I thought he was going with this.
           “You know,” he remarked, “it’s kind of a good thing this didn’t happen until after the sun went down. …WHICH WAS MY PLAN, OF COURSE! All those other locations were just fakeouts to get your guard down until I showed you the REAL main attraction!”
           As much as I knew that wasn’t the case, I had a good feeling about this one. “You really are an evil genius.”
           “Now come on!” He tugged my hand sharply to hurry me toward the building he’d targeted.
           By then, the sky was completely dark, giving me an extremely auspicious feeling about this. We hustled around back of the building, where Giovanni sought out the fire escape ladder. Of course, pulled up one story so that there would have to be an actual escape from the top down for anyone to reach it. Creep prevention and all.
           Well, this building was about to meet a couple of creeps.
           “Now, this is just standard procedure,” Giovanni bragged. “Any villain worth his salt can scale one of these without even trying. You’re still new to the biz, so I don’t blame you if you still need practice at it, but I’m an old pro by this point. Watch and learn!”
           Oh, I already knew where this was going. Still, I couldn’t stop him and I knew this.
           He bent, surveyed, sprang. He managed to catch the edge of the lowest balcony with his hands, then, completely lacking the necessary upper body strength to climb the rest of the way, just sort of dangled there, struggling and grunting to pull himself onto the metal surface.
           “Not that you need help with that or anything,” I told him, “but if I was offering – “
           “I mean, it’ll probably boost your ego if I pretend I need you to help me out here, and your ego is terribly malnourished, so go ahead. Even though I completely have this under control. Wait, what are you going to – “
           Trying not to blush at the proximity, I bent just enough that I could hook one hand under each sole of his shoes. Then, I posed, “Ready?”
           “Uh…yeah…”
           I rose, bringing his feet up, and that gave him the necessary leverage to scramble up onto the balcony. Even though it had just been hand-to-foot contact with a layer of rubber between, I still felt that had been incredibly intimate, somehow.
           Then remembered I was going to have the same problem. “So, um, I’m NOT going to be able to get up there on my own – “
           He’d already turned around, lying on his stomach so he could look down to me. “Don’t worry about it. Just jump.”
           “I’m not even sure I can actually jump.”
           “Just go for it!”
           Feeling rather foolish in advance, I bent my knees, ready to completely underwhelm. I jumped as high as I could (which is nowhere near as high as you want it to be), flinging up both arms on instinct.
           He caught one forearm in each hand, his own arms extended down to me, and after a rather painful dangle, he managed to reel me up to the point where he could wrap both arms around my upper body, bracing against the balcony to rather gracelessly drag me up to the same level.
           Which felt even more intimate.
           “Thanks,” I said once we were both on terra firma. Or metal firma, I guess.
           He clapped me on the back – which is not something I let most people do. “Don’t sweat it. Now let’s go!”
           It was smoother sailing from there – just trying to climb the rest of the ladders as quietly as possible, the night punctuated by the clinking of our shoes on the rungs. Giovanni was ahead, and so he got to the summit first, yelling down an enthusiastic “Come on, come on!” as I hustled to finish the course.
           It was exactly as I’d suspected. As I emerged atop the apartments’ roof, I gasped at the sight of the Sweet Jazz City skyline lit up like a treasure trove against the dark of the night.
           A sudden shift caught my attention; Giovanni had put his hand behind his back. I realized he’d been extending it to help me the rest of the way, but when I’d gotten there myself and gotten distracted by the shiny stuff, he tried to make it look like he hadn’t been doing that.
           “It’s perfect,” I told him. “…You’re…perfect.”
           “I know,” he said proudly. “That’s why we work, after all, since you’re only slightly less perfect.”
           Which was really his way of saying we were even keel, if you knew how to read the subtext, even if I did still think he was far too good for me to deserve.
           “Let’s get closer,” I suggested, approaching the edge where we could really see the lights.
           There we were, side by side, taking in the glittering panorama. And suddenly realizing that we still had to actually do something about it. Well, it wasn’t obligated, but it was the entire reason for this, and we did both want it – it was just still so difficult to initiate somehow.
           Giovanni cleared his throat; “So…I’m going to assume you’re ready for the big moment.”
           “Yeah,” I said, feeling my hands begin to tremble. “As I’ll ever be. So if you wanna…start it this time…”
           I turned toward him, looking up into his eyes. The low light played with the shadows that blanketed him, and I could pick out every feature on him from memory. God, he was adorable. If we were fully illuminated, his rose-pink eyes with their gold flecks would probably be sparkling as brightly as the skyline.
           I wondered if he really, truly looked at me the same way I looked at him. His expression seemed to be flustered enough to indicate it, but…why would he?
           I guess I really did need to listen to him and work on my own self-worth.
           He placed both hands on the sides of my face, sliding both thumb-pads over the cheekbones. And then started leaning in.
           This time, it was me who slapped my hand over my own mouth.
           He looked as though he’d been wounded. “Was…this not it either? Is this not what you wanted? Just tell me what needs to change, and I’ll – “
           “It’s me,” I muttered. “I’m just stupid nervous. This is literally the first time I’ve done this, and…it’s gonna be bad.”
           “No, it’s not! Even if you were bad, I’d totally be good enough to make up for it!”
           “I have no bar to even measure this,” I said softly. “Do I have to…do anything? What if I smack you in the face? I’m going to smack you in the face.”
           “Do you really think that’s gonna matter?”
           I wasn’t sure how to answer that.
           “Composer, you might totally suck at kissing. That’s fine. It’ll still be…it’s you, okay? So it’s not really gonna matter! You know I’m gonna love it, even if it’s awful!”
           “But you made a whole big deal out of everything being perfect – “
           “That was for you, Composer! And…I…wanted to have a safety net in case I’m the one who sucks. Maybe. Not that I would. But – “
           That was when it really hit home, what he was trying to say. “You won’t suck at it, Gio. You can’t. Because you’re you. Which is exactly what you’ve been trying to tell me.”
           He was silent a moment before saying, “Reverse psychology. I don’t REALLY think – “
           “I know what you think, you dork.” I slid my hand away. “Now kiss me already.”
           “But about that smacking faces thing,” he brought up. “Let’s just coordinate that before we get into it. You tilt left, I tilt right?”
           “Good c – “ I blinked. “No, because if you mirror it, we’d be going the same way. So we either need to both go left or both go right.”
           “…Right’s good?”
           “Right’s good.”
           I resolved to hold still, to not move outside my assigned head-tilt, but I broke that resolution – I advanced slightly to meet him, raising my heels just slightly to bridge the height gap. My eyes shut –
           And we hit foreheads before our lips could ever touch, which I suppose was to be expected.
           “Did you go left or right?” I asked, just about laughing.
           “I thought I was going right…”
           That turned out to be the perfect icebreaker. What relationship needs to be too serious, after all? I felt more spontaneous now, laying my arms over his shoulders, clasping my hands behind his head, as we gave it one more shot.
           It struck this strange balance between unexpectedly mundane and unexpectedly divine. Had I really been so worked up about this? Just pressing one set of lips to another? Who decided to give this such cultural weight, anyway? This hadn’t been anything to worry about.
           Except for the sensation that someone had slammed one paddle of an AED to my heart to get it to beat double-time with a sudden jolt.
           And then it was over. Too soon.
           “So?” Giovanni asked excitedly. “Was that perfect or was it perfect?”
           I eased my eyes open. “It was,” I told him. “I kinda expected it would be longer, honestly, but for a first, it was – “
           “You know, there’s no rule saying we can’t do it again.”
           “…You bring up a VERY good point.”
           We re-adjusted, replacing arms to put each other in more of an embrace. Then we went for seconds, pressing together just that much longer. I realized we hadn’t really talked about the concept of tongues, but we seemed to be on the same page regarding them – keep them were they were, for now. Still, we repositioned, trying to leech a little more affection off each other, almost biting –
           “OW!”
           I pulled back suddenly; Giovanni let me out of his arms, watching me press a finger to my lower lip.
           “Heheh…” He knew what had happened, as had I, and he nervously buried a hand in the hair at the back of his head. “Sorry ‘bout that. Got kinda caught up in the moment there…”
           His upper row of teeth had bitten down onto my lip. Gently enough not to draw blood, but he did have those rather pointed fangs, and they certainly were sharp.
           Normally, I didn’t have a very high pain tolerance. That was why I was surprised, myself, when I said, “Actually…I kinda liked it.”
           He reached peak flustering, muttering something about that also being part of his plan.
           “By the way,” I said, emboldened by our current promotion in affection, “I got you something. Funny story! I had actually wanted to give this to you all the way back in the lair, but then we started out on the whole sidequest. Anyway, remember how when we became official, you gave me a very important hoodie?”
           “Yeah,” Giovanni recalled. “The one you’re wearing. Lookin’ good, by the way.” He snapped me finger-guns at it.
           Did I forget to mention that I had been wearing a pink-and-plaid hoodie? Did you get this whole way not picturing me in one? Well, now you know I was wearing one the whole time, so you can brush that mental image up.
           “Well, it’s not fair that you steal me something and I don’t steal you something back, is it?” I reached into my pocket, feeling that both necklaces were still there. “Are you ready?”
           “What did you do, Composer?”            I retrieved the pendants, quickly detangling their silver chains. “This might actually be really silly. But I got us matching necklaces. Technically, they’re friendship necklaces, but I thought that we ARE best friends, just best friends who also date, and…” I held up one in each hand. The charms reflected the shapes of the sun and moon. “So this one’s mine,” I said, drawing the moon back to myself. “Because I’m the dark and depressing one. But you always make me smile and fill my life with sunshine, so…”
           I offered the sun pendant toward Giovanni. At first, he stared blankly at it, and I worried I hadn’t picked the proper gift. After all, I’d never seen him really accessorize or talk about doing so aside from his self-described edgy and gangster black nail polish.
           “But if you don’t want it,” I said hastily, “that’s cool too – “
           The pendant had disappeared from my hand. He had it now. “This is why you’re my fucking favorite minion,” he said, voice trembling. “But you know you’re not the moon because you’re the depressing one, right? It’s because you’re the poetic one who’s always thinking about stuff. Also, I am gonna wear this forever.” He quickly fastened it around his neck. “Put yours on!”
           I attempted to do so, fumbling with the clasp for a while before hearing, “No, no, no, let me get that!” right before a hushed “Teleports behind you,” at which point I realized Giovanni was behind me rather than in front of me, his hands taking the clasp away from me and fastening it expertly.
           And you know what? I couldn’t even complain about him making me feel incapable, like I usually would if someone fastened my necklace for me.
           His hands settled on my shoulders from behind, resting there for an odd length of time. “What’s up?” I asked.
           “So we have lip-kissing down,” he stated. “Are you cool with…other places? Not naughty places. I’m just looking at prime real estate – “
           “Please,” I said without thinking, feeling that defibrillator shot again.
           He lifted my hair out of the way, and I could feel his lips brush the back of my neck.
           “Oh, I am DEFINITELY going to get used to this,” I told him once he let my hair fall.
           “So…um…what happens now?”
           “I mean, I did kinda interrupt the whole plan you were making,” I reminded him. “We should probably go back to that.”
           “Yeah, but it’s nice out here. I don’t wanna go back yet. Dammit, the spot I picked was TOO good and now I don’t wanna leave!”
           “Okay,” I resolved. “So how about we just stay up here and talk about whatever?”
           “Sure. I like whatever.”
           We stood side-by-side, looking out toward the city.
           “So,” I asked, “I know you have some kind of plan for getting us that giant drill. And now I need to know how you intend to do it.”
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shadowynnn · 5 years ago
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Misadventure 01
~~~
Prompt: The kids, they ambushed me!
Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x OC (Aiko Akiyama, aka Mimicry)
Misadventure 01  of The Whimsical Misadventures of One Pro Hero Mimicry
Words: 2986
~~~
A/N: (Sorry it’s sort of long…)
Here’s the first of hopefully many one-shots centered around my OC for My Hero Academia! It’s a bit different than my normal stuff, but I’m super excited to see where this heads and I hope you all are too! 
Here are a few extra notes about this series to hopefully clear things up as you read:
1. These are not written in chronological order, but rather when I find a prompt inspiring one or whenever I can’t get a certain idea, episode, scene, or thought out of my head. If it’s inspired by a prompt though, I’ll be sure to include it! With this in mind though, I’ll be trying to do my best to explain things about her in a way that makes sense as you go along. Her quirk, family, and background will hopefully be revealed in a way which can be understood even if the events aren’t written in order. I’ve never written in this way before, so fingers crossed it’ll work. 
2. This series will also be a bit AU. Because I think it would be super cute to see the relationships my OC would have with Class 1-A students, I’m made an AU where each class at UA has a teacher’s assistant which follows a class through their years at UA and I’m excited to see where and what kind of new opportunities this will allow her to experience. It’s just a lot of fun to imagine how she would react/be in different situations with the class!
3. There will occasionally be other OC’s throughout this. If you’re ever interested in learning more about them, or even my main OC as well, I’d be happy to share more in a separate, more detailed post. Just let me know!
4. Lastly, and on a slightly different note, I’m planning on intermingling other one-shots/possible imagines with some of the other characters in My Hero Academia (or even other fanbases altogether) which won’t be OC’d based or take place in this series. Let me know if you’d also be interested in these! If so, I might make a separate and more detailed post and we can go from there!
I think that’s most of the things I wanted to explain before you started reading and I apologize for this being really long. I just thought it would be important to note before you started reading and I *hopefully* continue this series! 
Thanks for sticking through this - especially if you actually took the time to read all the way through. I hope you all enjoy! :)
~~~
Your legs swung idly from where you sat perched on Shouta’s desk listening absentmindedly to the latter inform Sekijiro Kan and his class assistant, Kaito Takahashi, on the students of Class 1-A. You were trying your best to pay attention, adding short comments about students when you felt it necessary, but your head just wasn’t in it today. Normally you loved your work as 1-A’s class assistant, but with summer break officially starting and camp still a few weeks away, you were bored with all the paperwork, preparations, and meetings. 
You couldn’t complain too much, though, as it was partly your fault. Class Assistants weren’t required to be as involved with the end of semester documentation as you had been, but you had just felt bad with all the extra hours Shouta was having to put in that you eventually offered a second pair of hands.
He had refused you at first, coming up with several stupid excuses before you could convince him otherwise. While he constantly reminded you you could stop whenever he saw you losing focus after an hour or two at the computer, it was easy to see he welcomed your help and was more relaxed having you around him more often, especially after realizing your villainous ex-boyfriend was still kind of hung up over you, which was another matter altogether you didn’t really want to think about at the moment.
Either sensing your restlessness or simply growing tired of the dragging meeting himself, Shouta dropped his papers on the desk beside you and leaned against the edge just close enough to where the side of his body lightly brushed against your own. While a casual enough gesture to be seen as innocent by those who were unaware of your relationship, it was still enough to make you inwardly smile. Shouta wasn’t one to initiate contact very often, especially not in public, so it always meant a lot to you when he did so and you struggled to keep yourself from melting into his side. 
While most of the faculty was aware of your outside relationship, you had been dating before you were hired at UA after all, you were still careful to keep a work-appropriate demeanor around your coworkers. It wasn’t hard though - with Shouta being his usual reserved self and you being sociable and affectionate with nearly everyone you met - and the majority of the school was completely unaware you two were even together. Hell, even your own class was oblivious until the USJ incident, though a few - aka, the girls - had had their suspicions.
Shouta stayed by your side for the remainder of the meeting, only moving once to place a hand on your knee to stop your legs from swinging when the constant movement against his own began to annoy him.  While the gesture was normal for the two of you - you were never one to be able to sit still - you were surprised to note he left his hand there once your movement had stopped. You didn’t read too much into it, however, as he was probably just stressed with the upcoming camp and extra classes. Shouta always got more touchy when he started stressing, stating your presence helped him relax and it had shown the past few days. You did your best to try and play it off though, not wanting to draw any attention. 
Luckily, Sekijiro was too enthralled with the papers in his hands to notice the exchange, but your former classmate and close friend Kaito, on the other hand, was quick to notice the simple action and sent you a sly wink when Shouta wasn’t looking. You shook your head just the slightest and a soft huff of amusement escaped before you could stop it. You felt Shouta’s eyes on your figure at your movement and quickly asked Sekijiro a question about a boy in Class 1-B who had a quirk faintly similar to your own to try and draw his attention off of yours and Kaito’s exchange. You knew if he realized what he was doing he’d drop his hand and you really didn’t want that to happen.
The meeting eventually finished up after a few more minutes, much to your relief. Sekijiro was quick to leave, but Kaito stuck around for a little longer wanting to hear about your recent venture to I-Island for the annual I-Expo and the villain attack which took place during your stay. You chatted idly with Kaito, giving him all the juicy details about the expo and the attack itself while Shouta moved to sit at his desk and finish up some last-minute work. He was silent for most of your conversation only muttering in agreement when Kaito made a comment about you always seeming to attract trouble to which you promptly flicked both in the arm for.
Eventually, Kaito too had to leave and left the room silent with his absence as Shouta was too focused on his work to talk. You glanced over at him, lips twisting as you mulled over whether or not you should offer assistance. You didn’t want to but you would be able to head back home faster if you offered to split the work. But then again, you really didn’t want to. 
“I’ve got just a few more minutes of work to finish up. Why don’t you go down and tell the class their time is up while I finish and then we can head home.”
Your eyes lit up at Shouta’s suggestion and you quickly nodded your head. It was the perfect solution. Not only were you were getting out of work, but now you didn’t have to feel bad about not doing anything.
“Sounds good, Sho!”
You dropped down off his desk eager to get out of the room, but his hand grabbed your wrist and held you in place before you could go anywhere.
“Five o’clock sharp, Aiko. No bending the rules.” Shouta glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to make sure you wouldn’t let the kids convince you for a bit more time...It wouldn’t have been the first time something like that had happened, after all.
“I know, Sho, I got this.” You rolled your eyes. Sure, you were sometimes ‘too’ lenient around the kids, but you preferred to think of it as ‘good cop’ and ‘bad cop’. Your leniency just balanced out with Shouta’s strictness. School, especially UA hero school, was tough and the kids deserved some fun every once in a while. It definitely wasn’t because you were a big pushover when it came to your students. 
Shouta sighed, but let you go without another word. 
He might have not said it outright but you knew he assumed you weren’t going to get them out of the pool by five. And while you might have thought his strict adherence to the rule was ridiculous - who was it bothering if they strayed around for a few extra minutes anyways - you were determined to prove Shouta wrong as you headed down to the pool...At least you were determined until you heard Iida propose the boys race to find who could swim fifty meters the fastest and all thoughts of Shouta flew out your brain.
“A race? Sounds like I came at the right time!” 
You were met with various lively greetings as you made your way towards the class and you returned their words with a bright smile and a wave of your hand. You regretfully heard the bitter remark Mineta whispered about you not being in a bathing suit but chose to ignore it because apparently there was some sort of rule about teacher/student relationships and you couldn’t bop him on the head no matter how much he asked for it. Thankfully, Jiro quickly came to your rescue with a quick earphone jack to his ear.
“So how’re we gonna race? Quirks or no quirks?” You asked giddily as you approached Iida, eyes shining. This was the most excitement you had had since the I-Expo. Which was actually kind of sad when you thought about it too long...
“Are we even allowed to use our quirks?”
“As long as you don’t damage each other or school property, quirks are fine with me.” You nodded your head to Ojiro’s question shoving thoughts about how lame your summer was so far out of your head. “Otherwise I just might have to steal your quirk for the rest of the summer...Bakugou, I’m talking to you there.” Your eyes made their way to angry blond, who simply crossed his arms and angrily muttered, “I’d like to see you try,” under his breath.
With an agreement on how the racing would be done, you went to grab a whistle from the locker room while Yaoyorozu randomly split the boys into three heats. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Sero was the first to start complaining when Bakugou easily won the first heat by using his quirk to explode himself to the other side. 
“You didn’t even touch the water!” Kirishima was quick to add, just as frustrated with his best friend as Sero was. 
“It’s called freestyle swimming, you idiots!” Bakugou yelled in return, tiny explosions coming off his hands as he let his anger take over again. 
You fought the laughter bubbling up in the back at your throat at his response and hid your smile quickly with your hand as Sero and Kirishima both looked back at you for support in their arguments. “Sure, he didn’t technically swim, but we agreed quirks were fine and he did manage to not damage anything so…” You shrugged leaving both boys looking rather dejected.
While those whose quirks weren’t helpful in swimming started to regret their agreement to use quirks rather quickly, those who did have useful ones began to quickly follow Bakugou’s lead. In the following heat, Todoroki, Aoyama, and even Sero crossed without touching, that is until Aoyama ran into Sero causing them both to fall into the water below. Even Iida, a total stickler for rules, joined in, using his engines to boost him across the rope. 
“I thought we were supposed to be swimming!” Kirishima, whose hardening quirk would have only slowed him in the water, yelled once more in aggravation at seeing their class rep’s actions.
Despite the lack of swimming, you still enjoyed the thrill of watching the boys race, cheering with your students from the sideline. You hadn’t realized how much you had enjoyed spending time with them until you weren’t around them for eight hours a day anymore. They may have been your students, but you had bonded rather closely with them over your first semester together and looked forward to the next two and a half years you would have with them.
With the preliminary races done and the finalists, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya, chosen, chatter and bets began to be put in place for who the winner would be. Many of the students complaining earlier about the lack of actual swimming were looking for Midoriya to win, seeing as he was the only one who actually swam, but some of the others still spoke for Todoroki and Bakugou.
You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched the three prepare to race, Bakugou was being his normal angry self and yelling at the others to make sure they didn’t go easy on him as if this was some sort of big competition and not a simple class race. As you continued to watch him go at it, you briefly wondered which Bakugou hated more: losing or winning against someone who didn’t give it their all, though you leaned towards the latter. He was absolutely livid after winning against Todoroki at the sports festival and you and Midnight had been quickly forced to intervene before he managed to hurt himself or someone else. 
“Alright you three, you ready?” You asked, interrupting Bakugou’s incessant grumbling and motioned for them to take their place at the start. Once in place and with a curt nod from all three, you raised your whistle to your mouth and began your countdown.
But when you blew the whistle, all three only fell clumsily into the pool with loud yelps of surprise. 
The reaction was instantaneous. 
“What are you doing!?” - Kaminari
“Why didn’t you use your quirks!?” - Sero
“Now you decide to get in the water!?” - Kirishima
All the pent up excitement and anxiety to see who would win fell apart at the lack of racing which was now taking place. You, however, knew what had happened the moment the boys fell in the water and once again remembered why you had come down here earlier.
“It’s past 5 pm.” A blush crept across your face as you heard the familiar voice speak behind you. “You’re authorized pool time is over. Hurry up and go home.” 
“Ah, come on! Just a few more seconds!” Kaminari was the first to complain about the sudden stop but was quickly followed by several of the other classmates all as eager as you to see who might have won the race.
“Quick, I’ll distract and steal his quirk while you hurry up and finish!” You spun around to face your boyfriend trying your best to hide your blush from his view while you shot his annoyed face an innocent smile.  At the unamused twitch your teasing statement brought, however, you quickly rebuked your statement before any of your students could speak in favor of it. “Which is a joke by the way and will not be happening...?” Your statement tumbled off as you shot Shouta a questioning look in hopes of convincing him for a little more time. At the subtle shake of his head, you sighed. You had already pushed him enough as it was and it wouldn’t do to try and push him any further, especially not in front of your students...even if he was being sort of an ass at the moment. “You heard Mr. Aizawa, hurry up and start getting ready to head home.” 
Your words were met with disappointed moans and loud complaints, but they quickly followed your instructions after a bit of encouragement from Shouta. 
“Before you say anything, the kids, they ambushed me,” You spoke up when all the kids had started on their way home and you were once again left alone with Shouta. 
“Is that so?” he murmured, eyebrow cocked as he gave you an incredulous sideways glance. And though he tried to hide it, you could still see the way his lip curled at your words. 
“Mmhmm,” you continued, your own smile evident at the realization he wasn’t too aggravated at you. It wasn’t like you had really thought he was though, you practically had Shouta wrapped around your finger and the both of you knew it, much to his distaste. “I had no choice but to let them race. I was practically held hostage.” 
“They give hostages whistles now, do they?” 
“Oh, shut up.” You shot back, giving him a playful shove at not being able to come up with a comeback quickly enough. Shouta only chuckled at your childlike behavior and grabbed your hand to catch his balance. He made no move to let go either as he led you in the direction of the exit. “You’re lucky I love you, otherwise you’d be sleeping on the couch for that!” 
“I’m the lucky one?” Shouta huffed in playful annoyance. “I’m not the one who let them stay an extra twenty minutes and then threatened to steal my quirk. If anything, you should be the one on the couch.” 
“Shit! Was it really that long?” You asked, ignoring Shouta’s last statements as you checked the time on your phone. You had thought it was only a few extra minutes, but Shouta was right. It was just after half-past five. “Oops, sorry.” Your face flushed as you gave him a sheepish smile.
“Now who’s the lucky one?” 
“And in what way am I lucky, again?” You pulled Shouta to a stop, a coy smile spreading across your face as he was forced to look back at you.
Shouta shook his head at your childish antics, but his hand still brushed against your cheek as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear and leaned down. “You’re lucky...” His mouth brushed ever so softly against your ear before suddenly pausing. “...”
“Ooo, Jiro, I can’t hear him anymore! What’s he saying?” - Ashido
“Shut up, Ashido, they’re going to hear you!” - Hagakure
“Why are we even doing this again?” - Jiro
“Because I want to see them kiss!” - Ashido
Shouta stood up abruptly as the sound of loud whispering coming from the other side of the UA gate. As frustrated as you were at their interruption, you couldn’t help but start giggling at their antics, especially Ashido’s last statement. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way home?” 
Your head fell against Shouta’s chest as your laughter only grew louder at the yelps of surprise Shouta’s words brought and the several “Yes, sir!”s and the one “You better not make Miss Aiko sleep on the couch!” from Ashido that followed as they took off down the road.
“You heard the girl,” you giggled when you felt Shouta sigh. Pushing yourself back just enough to be able to look up at him, you continued. “You  better not make me sleep on the couch.”
Shouta only shook his head unamused by your statement as he started pulling you in the direction of the exit once more. But despite his reaction, you still barely managed to catch him mumble, “You know I like sleeping with you too much to ever do that.”
A light blush settled across your face at his words and you gave his hand a loving squeeze as you softly replied.
“Me too, Sho, me too.” 
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a-splash-of-stucky · 7 years ago
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you look so perfect standing there
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes [Not reader-insert]
Summary: When Bucky steps in a Natasha’s model at a shoot, he does not expect the photographer to be this hot.
Warnings: Bucky in lingerie, Bucky thinking very dirty thoughts about Steve, awkward flirting. No smut, but a lot of smutty thoughts. Language. 
Notes: Written for @wehaveabucky’s writing challenge, using the prompt: Photoshoot.
The author of this fic has a gratuitous kink for Bucky in skimpy underwear. I regret nothing. Also, if you ever want to give me a present, I will never turn down fics/artwork involving Bucky in lingerie. Visual inspiration for look [1] [2] and [3]
Stucky Masterlist
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Bucky flops onto his couch with a tired sigh, grateful to be off his feet after spending an entire day chasing after a bunch of hyperexcited pre-schoolers. He loves his job, loves the kids in his class but man -- school trips are the worst. Of course, it’s just his luck that this week he’s had to go on three of them.
Thank fuck for child-free weekends.
Bucky hooks his toes under the lip of his coffee table and drags it over. Of course, he could sit up and reach over for the box of pizza, but that requires too much effort. His phone starts ringing just as he’s about to dig in. Cursing under his breath, Bucky wrestles it out of his back pocket and presses the answer button.
“’lo?”
“Barnes,” comes a crisp voice.
“Romanov,” Bucky replies, as he flips open the pizza box and grabs a slice.
“You’re free this weekend, yes?” she asks.
Bucky freezes, hand poised in mid-air. “Uh…I did have plans,” he says slowly.
Natasha snorts. “Really?” she drawls. Bucky can imagine her pursing her lips.
“Oh yeah,” he agrees, as he stuffs half the slice into his mouth. “M’gonna sleep in, sit on the couch all day, marathon Parks and Rec, eat a shit ton of junk—,”
“Great, you’re gonna be my model,” she announces.
Bucky splutters in surprise. “I’m gonna what now?”
“A model, Barnes. Y’know—,”
“Yes, I know what a model is, Nat,” he snaps, “But why me?”
“Eh, you’ve got a decent ass,” she replies.
Bucky snorts indignantly. “Excuse me, I’ll have you know that my ass is – wait, did you just compliment me? You think my ass looks nice?”
“I said it looks decent,” Nat says, enunciating clearly. “And stop fishing for compliments. Look, you know that I’ve got a new line of lingerie coming out for the store, right? My model cancelled on me last minute, and I needed someone on short notice.”
“I’m flattered to be your plan B,” Bucky says dryly.
“Actually, you’re more like plan E.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Bucky grumbles.
Nat huffs. “So. You in? This Sunday, for a couple of hours.”
Bucky sighs heavily. “Nat. I’m a teacher, I can’t—,”
“It’ll be completely anonymous,” she assures him. “Body shots only, your face won’t be included. And it’s not like you have any identifying marks on your body, so…”
As her voice trails off, Bucky heaves a dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine, but you’re buying me pizza after.”
“Deal. I’ll send you the address in a bit.”
----------
When Sunday rolls around, Bucky is most definitely not nervous. Of course not. That funny feeling in his stomach is just…indigestion. Possibly excitement. No nerves whatsoever.
Maybe he’s a little nervous.
He shows up to the location about ten minutes before he’s expected to be there. Nat’s directions have brought Bucky to an empty loft space in downtown. Bucky can understand why Nat’s chosen to have the shoot here; the exposed brick walls, wooden floors and overall industrial vibe is exactly the kind of aesthetic she tends to go for.
The loft is bustling with activity when Bucky arrives. People are dragging around lights, backdrops and various pieces of furniture. Bucky cranes his head around, looking for Nat. He startles when someone taps him on the shoulder.
When he turns around, his nearly gasps in surprise. His brain descends into chaos as his eyes are confronted the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen; blonde, with bright blue eyes and a disarming smile that Bucky wants to kiss right off his lips. Blondie is built as fuck, his broad shoulders and chest tapering into a ridiculously small waist. He’s dressed in a pair of jeans that hug his muscular thighs and a light blue t-shirt that clings to him like a second skin.
“Hi,” Blondie says, “You’re James, right?”
Oh. Oh, dear God, he’s talking to you – answer him you idiot, ANSWER HIM!
Why does his inner voice sound a lot like Rebecca?
“Uhh,” Bucky says. He mentally face-palms himself and tries not to outwardly grimace.  
Nice going, Barnes.
Blondie quirks an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.
“Y-yeah, I’m James,” Bucky says, wincing internally at his stutter. “But, uh—just call me Bucky. Only my ma’s allowed to call me James.”
“Bucky, huh?” Blondie says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Steve.”
“Steve,” Bucky echoes distractedly, too busy watching the mesmerising movements of Steve’s lips. He really, really wants to kiss them. “Yeah, yeah, it’s uh…nice to meet you too.”
Get it together, Barnes, where’s your game at?
If Steve’s amused by Bucky’s bumbling pleasantries, he doesn’t let it show in his expression. “So, I’m gonna be your photographer for today,” Steve says casually.  
Fucking hell, Bucky is not gonna survive this day.
“Oh,” Bucky squeaks, “That’s great. That’s cool, yeah. Yeah, really excited to work with you, Steve, Nat’s told me about you.”
Steve laughs softly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “What’d she say about me?”
Hngh, how can this man simultaneously be the hottest and also the most adorable thing on this planet? It’s not fucking fair.
Bucky grins. At least, he thinks he’s grinning.
“Only the good stuff,” he replies, “She told me that you’re the only person she’d trust to run this shoot.”
Steve shakes his head like he can’t believe Natasha said that about him. To be fair, that woman does not give out compliments easily. He clears his throat and meets Bucky’s eyes once again. “Okay, well—um, we’ve got a pretty packed schedule today, so if you wanna head to hair and makeup and get changed and whatever…I’ll just…I need to finish setting up.”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, “Yeah, see you in a bit, Steve.”
Steve flashes him another one of easy smiles and squeezes Bucky’s shoulder before he walks off. The lingering warmth of his hand sends shivers down Bucky’s spine. As Steve walks away, Bucky takes the opportunity to ogle his ass – those jeans are doing wonders for him. And that shirt? Hello sexy shoulder muscles.
Bucky heaves a shaky breath and runs his fingers through his hair.
He is so, so fucked for this shoot.
----------
“Oh, hey Wanda!” Bucky calls, as he walks into the dressing area. “You’re here to make me look good, I take it?”
“Yup,” she says, “Drop your bag anywhere, then come sit by the vanity. You need all the help you can get, so we’d best get started.”
“Har-har, Wan,” Bucky drawls. He drops the gym bag holding his change of clothes beside the vanity, then plops down in the foldable chair that Wanda pointed to. The surface of the table is littered with an assortment of beauty utensils, and the mirror has huge bulbs built into the frame.
“You look a little nervous,” Wanda comments, as she clips his bangs out of the way and starts to smooth some sweet-smelling cream all over his face. “Why’re you nervous? I know for a fact that this isn’t your first shoot.”
She’s right. Back when Natasha was in fashion school and just launching her online boutique, Bucky had often been the person to model her garments. He’d also done a few other modelling gigs back when he was a broke-ass college student, for some quick cash. He and Wanda had met on one of those gigs; when Bucky introduced her to Natasha, the two of them had hit it off, and now they’re something of a team.  
So yeah, Wanda is correct; this is not Bucky’s first photoshoot.
“’S my first one in lingerie, though,” Bucky mutters. He closes his eyes as Wanda starts to buff some foundation onto his face.
Wanda snorts. “Buck, you’ve done underwear modelling before, right? How’s this any different?”
Bucky shrugs. “Dunno,” he replies, even though he does. This photoshoot is different because the photographer is the most beautiful man that Bucky’s ever seen and Bucky desperately wants to bone him. Or be boned by him, whatever, Bucky’s not picky.
As Wanda picks up her powder, Bucky frowns in confusion, a lightbulb going off in his head.
“Wanda, why the hell’re you puttin’ makeup on me for?” he asks, “Nat said my face wasn’t even gonna be in the shot.”
Wanda pauses, her brush in mid-air. “Crap,” she mutters, “I forgot. It’s like a reflex, sorry. I’ll wipe it off—,”
“Wait!” Bucky blurts. She freezes in surprise.
If he’s going to have any chance at getting into Steve’s pants – or at least, at getting Steve to ask him out on a date so that he can eventually get into Steve’s pants – then he’s going to need every piece of help that he can get.  
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Bucky says, shooting her an easy smile. “I do. It helps me get in the right headspace.”
“Oh,” she says, blinking in surprise. “Oh, okay then, I’ll just…continue on.”
“Please do.”
“But seriously, relax, Bucky,” Wanda says, as she sweeps powder onto his face. “You got this.”
Bucky sighs. “M’ just a lil’ nervous, is all. Haven’t done this in a while, don’t go to the gym as often as I used to.”
“Bucky Barnes? Insecure in his own skin?” Wanda scoffs. “Puh-lease, now there’s a joke if I ever saw one.”
----------
Natasha drops by the hair and makeup area just as Wanda leaves in search of an extension cable.
“Romanov,” Bucky hisses.
She arches an eyebrow at his tone. “Yes, James?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he growls, careful to keep his voice down so as to not draw anyone’s attention.
“Tell you what?”
Bucky makes an exasperated noise and gestures towards Steve, who’s setting up some lights with the help of a couple of assistants. Natasha follows his gaze and, when she spots Steve, chuckles darkly.
“Oh, that you’d be parading around in lacy underwear in front of a blonde beefcake?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest.
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Yeah. That.”
“Whoops, it must’ve slipped my mind,” she says innocently.
“Some friend you are,” Bucky grumbles.
She hums thoughtfully as her eyes drift back to Steve. “He’s bi, you know? And single, too.”
“Fuck me,” Bucky groans, his heart doing excited somersaults in his chest.
Nat snickers. “No, but that’s something you might wanna ask Steve about,” she teases.
“Oh, fuck off,” Bucky snaps, turning away from her to hide his blush.
“Who knows, Barnes,” she sing-songs, “Something good could come out of this. Look, you’re gonna be parading in front of him in black lace, so make the most of it, is all I’m saying.”
Bucky snorts. “Would you kill me if I have a boner in like, half the pics?”
She turns on her heel and stalks off, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
----------
Once Wanda has finished his makeup and arranged his hair into a loose bun, she hands Bucky a pair of black lace panties, which, apparently, constitute his first ‘outfit’.
“Off you go,” she says, ushering him towards the corner of the dressing area, where a privacy screen has been set up. “There’s a mirror behind the screen and there should be a robe hanging off of it.”
Bucky dutifully trots off to get changed. He unzips his hoodie and slides his sweats and boxers down, leaving his clothes folded in a neat pile beside the mirror. The lace is surprisingly soft against his skin and the black compliments his skin tone nicely. He’d been worried that the lace would be too revealing, but actually, the pattern is busy enough to not leave him too indecently exposed. Bucky twists around to check the view from the back and gives himself a pat on the shoulder; his ass looks good.
When he looks at himself dead-on, though, he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. Maybe he should’ve done some extra crunches when he went to the gym yesterday, or possibly even opted for something other than the greasy Chinese takeout he had last night. Either way, his abs are not as defined as they could be.
Is Steve the kinda guy that likes a toned man? Or, is he okay with a little bit of pudginess? Well, if Bucky’s going to be prancing around in his underwear in front of Steve, he’s going to damn well make sure that he looks smokin’ hot. That means pulling out all the stops.
“Hey Wanda?” he calls.
“Yeah?”
“Can you c’mere for a sec?”
“What’s up?” she asks, popping her head around the side of the screen. When she catches sight of him, she gives a low whistle. “Woah, Bucky, you look nice.”
“Thanks,” he murmurs, flushing hot. “Um—d’you think you could…abs?” he mumbles, gesturing vaguely towards the region of his body in question.
“Abs?” she echoes, confused. “What about ‘em?”
“Could you…make ‘em look more obvious?”
Wanda smirks knowingly. “You want me to contour your abs, Bucky?”
“Yes,” Bucky sighs. “Make me look like I go to the gym five times a week.”
“I mean, yeah, I can do that, but you look great, so I don’t really see the point. What brought this on?” Wanda asks, as she steps around the privacy screen. She pulls out a brush and some contour powder from the utility belt strapped around her waist.
“Nothin’, I just wanna look good,” Bucky says.
She cocks her head to the side. “Look good? But you—oh my god,” she gasps.
“What?”
A maniacal grin stretches her lips. “It’s because of Steve, isn’t it?”
Bucky narrows his eyes at her. “No, it’s not,” he says tersely.  
“It is, it totally is,” she giggles, “Oh, did you know that he’s—,”
“Bisexual and single, yeah, Nat’s already told me that.”
“More importantly, he’s your type,” she whispers contritely, nudging Bucky with her elbow.
“I don’t have a type,” Bucky retorts defensively, “I just go for the nice guys!”
“Uh-huh,” Wanda says, a dubious expression on her face. “The nice guys with blonde hair and thighs that were made for grinding on, am I right?
Bucky doesn’t dignify her with an answer.
(She’s totally right)
“Flex your muscles. Tense up,” she instructs.
Bucky does as he’s told. Wanda dusts contour powder over his body.
“What d’you think about body oil?” she asks, as she moves her brush to his iliac furrow, sculpting out those lines too.
“What do I think about body oil?”
She looks up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Imagine – glistening abs, glistening shoulders, looking like you’ve just had the best sex of your life—,”
“Sign me the fuck up.”
----------
After making himself look like a vision of sex, Bucky throws on a black silk robe and pads off in search of Steve. Bucky finds him standing beside a pile of white sheets that have been spread out on the floor. They’re piled on top of each other, creating sensual ripples in the fabric.
“Hey, Bucky!” Steve chirps, flashing another one of those killer smiles. “We’ve just finished setting up, you’re just on time.”
“This is the set?” Bucky asks, jerking his chin towards the unassuming mountain of white fabric.
Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yep. We couldn’t find a real bed on such short notice, so we kinda had to make do. The plan is for you to roll around in the sheets, with me standing above you, and then I’ll get a few shots. Sounds cool?”
“Yep!” Bucky replies, voice a little strangled.
Sure. No big deal. He’s going to be rolling around in silk sheets, in his lacy underwear, with Steve standing over him. No big deal.
“Great. So, if you’ll just drop the robe, we can get started.”
Bucky takes a deep, fortifying breath, then unties the sash holding his robe together. He doesn’t miss Steve’s sharp inhale as the silky garment slips off his shoulders. Despite his nerves, Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning. He hands the robe to an assistant and then crawls onto the sheets. When he’s in the middle of them, he twists around so that he’s lying on his back.
Steve is watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. “If you could just let your legs fall open a little,” he instructs, “Bring your feet in – yeah, just like that.”
Once he’s arranged Bucky to his satisfaction, Steve picks up his camera and stands between Bucky’s legs. The air is filled with the rhythmic snap of the shutter, as well as Steve’s murmured encouragements and instructions. Bucky’s nerves fall away as he gets into the zone. He manipulates his body as Steve directs, arching and flexing and relaxing as required.
The knowledge that his face won’t be in any of the shots doesn’t stop Bucky from giving Steve his best bedroom eyes. Bucky tips his head back invitingly, baring his throat and letting his lids droop half-shut. He parts his lips on an exhale, the corner of his mouth crooked up in a soft smile. He hopes that Steve is picking up his signals.
Steve curses under his breath when Bucky slips his right thumb into the waistband of his panties and tugs them down a little, as if he were about to slip them off. Bucky spends some time teasing Steve like this, sliding his fingers back and forth, and slipping a couple down the front, so that his fingertips are brushing the base of his cock. He arches his back and thrusts his pelvis upwards, his lips parting of their own accord on a silent moan.
“Uh, Bucky?” Steve asks, tearing his eyes away from the camera for a second. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip; Bucky notes the flush of colour on his cheeks.
“Could you—um, could you roll over, please? I need to – uh, I need to get some shots of your a—I mean, I need to get some shots of the back,” Steve stutters.
“You wanna get some shots of my ass, Steve, all you gotta do is ask,” Bucky drawls, smirking to himself as he rolls onto his stomach.
He finds himself naturally bringing his knees up under him and pressing his chest to the floor; the position draws attention to his lace-clad ass. Bucky can feel the weight of Steve’s stare, intense and heated, as it rakes over his back. He has half a mind to start grinding against the sheets, humping the floor like he’s some horny teenager.
Once Steve’s gotten all the shots he needs, Bucky gets sent off to Wanda to change into his next set. She’s waiting in the dressing area with a knowing smirk on her face.
“What?” Bucky asks, as he walks past her.
“Don’t ‘what’ me, Barnes,” she says, turning to keep pace with him. “I think the only way you could’ve been more obvious was if you ripped the panties off and flat-out asked him to fuck you. Like, seriously, we all thought we were seconds away from watching you two shoot a porno!”
“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugs, despite the flush crawling up his cheeks. “Didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt, y’know? If he wants it, he wants it and I’m gonna let him have it.”
“You should’ve seen the look on his face when you rolled over,” she comments, as Bucky steps behind the privacy screen. “I’m pretty sure he was about to have a heart attack.”
“My ass does that to people,” Bucky agrees. Wanda snorts in response.
The next set that Bucky changes into comprises of more pieces. There’s a pair of white thigh-highs with a lace trim, a garter belt to hold them up and some matching lace panties to complete the look. These panties are cut differently to the ones that Bucky currently has on; nearly half his ass is going to be on show.
Luckily, Bucky’s ass is at peak form. All those squats have finally paid off.  
“Hey Wanda?” he calls, as he takes the lingerie pieces off their hangers.
“Yeah?”
“Do I put panties over garter, or garter over panties?”
“Garter over panties,” she replies, “You only do it the other way ‘round if you’re planning to take the panties off, which we’re not doing.”
“But what if I wanna take ‘em off?”
“Barnes, none of us wants to see your bare ass,” Wanda sighs.
“Steve might,” Bucky grumbles.
The garter belt and clips are a little fiddly, but once everything is in place, Bucky has to admit that he looks good. The thigh-highs elongate his legs and the belt emphasises the smooth curve of his waist. His cock is snugly held by the lace panties and the bottom of his ass cheeks look especially perky.
If Bucky were Steve, he’d fuck Bucky.
Bucky slips on his robe and pads back out to the main area, where an assistant points him to where he’s needed. From the looks of it, he’ll just be shot in front of a simple black backdrop – Bucky is thankful that this set-up doesn’t involve Steve standing over him, as he doesn’t think that he’ll survive another round of that. A couple of light boxes cast a warm glow.  
Steve catches his gaze and smiles, gesturing for Bucky to step onto the set. This time, when Bucky drops his robe, Steve is more open with his appreciation; his eyes widen noticeably, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. His gaze roams over Bucky’s body hungrily and, when their eyes meet again, he doesn’t bother to apologise.
“You look good,” he says instead, voice dark and husky.
A rush of heat travels down Bucky’s spine.
The current set-up is more similar to modelling gigs that Bucky’s had in the past, but the fact that he’s strutting around in fancy lingerie is definitely new. He’s also never wanted to fuck his photographer this bad, either.
“Okay, Bucky, if you could just tip your head back and cross one leg in front of the other – yes, hold it, just like that,” Steve praises, peering into the viewfinder as he snaps a few pictures. Steve encourages Bucky to move around and do whatever feels natural, so Bucky finds himself twisting himself this way and that, focusing on creating sinuous, sensuous lines with his body.
“That’s great, Buck, real good,” Steve murmurs, every now and then.
Bucky finds it ridiculously endearing that Steve’s somehow managed to make a nickname out of his nickname. He likes how the syllable sounds as it rolls off Steve’s tongue, the easy familiarity behind it. Bucky wants to find out what his name sounds like rolling off of Steve’s tongue when Bucky’s sucking on his dick or riding his cock, but that’s a mystery to be solved later.
“Turn around for me, please? Great, could you put one hand on the back of your neck and look at me over your shoulder?”
Bucky does as he’s told, craning his neck around until he’s looking at Steve. He notices how Steve’s gaze is appreciative as he casts it over Bucky’s back and ass. When their eyes meet, the corner of Steve’s lip twitches, like he’s resisting the urge to smirk. Bucky wouldn’t call himself vain – well, no vainer than the average person, at least – but he’s looked at the mirror enough times to know that he’s got a little bit of muscle definition going on back there when he flexes. Clearly, Steve likes what he sees.
Bucky makes sure to arch his back so that his ass looks perkier. He tells himself that he’s doing this for the sake of modelling the panties, but really, it’s because Bucky wants to shove his ass into Steve’s face.
Figuratively and literally.
----------
Bucky’s final pair of panties are deep-red and high-waisted, with a criss-cross ribbon design in the back. Wanda also hands him an oversized, white, long-sleeve button-down to wear; it hangs off his shoulders in a sultry manner.
Bucky is accosted by Natasha after Wanda finishes touching-up his makeup and dousing his hair in more texturing spray.
“Barnes,” she says primly.
“Yes, Natasha?”
The smile she gives him doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re modelling for an advertising campaign, yes?”
Bucky nods in agreement.
“Good,” she says, “Keep that in mind.”
His brows pull together in confusion. “What’re you…tryna say, Nat?”
“Stop acting like you’re on a porn shoot.”
Bucky blanches. “Am I…that obvious?” he asks, as they start walking to the next set.
She quirks one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Look, if you wanna seduce Steve, then don’t let me stop you, just…maybe stop trying to get him to fuck you on the spot?”
“I…make no promises,” Bucky says.
Nat snorts. “Then I retract my promise of buying you pizza.”
Bucky’s eyes land on Steve, who’s conversing with a couple of assistants on the other side of the space. “If I get to have a slice of that beefcake, I think I’ll be okay,” he tells her.
“Oh my god,” Natasha mutters, shoving his shoulder. “That was terrible. I’m leaving you, go away.”
Bucky walks away from her, still cackling.
The final set consists of a chaise lounge that has been positioned in the corner of the space, in front of an exposed brick wall. It’s angled so that it is bathed in the sunlight pouring in from a nearby window. The chaise is upholstered with maroon velvet and sits low to the ground. There are cream and off-white blankets draped over it in a haphazard manner, and someone has piled on some throw pillows.
Steve grins when he spots Bucky, not bothering to hide his meaningful once-over. Because Bucky’s wearing the oversized shirt, Wanda hadn’t bothered to give him a robe. And, since the shirt is unbuttoned, Steve can plainly see the red panties that Bucky is wearing.
“How do I look?” Bucky asks, as he makes a show out of turning around in a circle.
Steve tilts his head to the side, an amused smile on his lips.
“Stunning,” he replies softly.
Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly going dry. Jesus, is this guy even real?
Steve asks Bucky to lie on his couch with his head against the arm rest, legs sprawled out over the blankets.
“I just want you to relax into it, Buck,” Steve says, as he brings his camera to his eyes. “Less posing more…softness. Like you’ve just woken up.”
With those directions in mind, Bucky slouches further into the chaise and brings one knee up, resting his wrist atop it as his shirt pools around him. With the too-big garment constantly slipping down his shoulders, Bucky has multiple excuses to run his hands over his body, under the guise of rearranging the material. The shutter clicks continuously.
Bucky has long recognised the value of having a narrative to use when he’s modelling; if he can become someone, if he can step into a character’s shoes, then it becomes much easier for him to deliver the desired aesthetic. With his skimpy red panties and his oversized shirt, it’s easy for Bucky to imagine that he’s spending the night at Steve’s place, and that he’s borrowed Steve’s shirt so that he’s not totally naked as he lounges on the couch. Oh yeah, that’s a dream he’s happy to entertain – maybe they’ve been seeing each other for a while and this is the first time that Bucky’s spending the night at his place. Yeah, that would explain why he doesn’t have any clothes here.
Or maybe – maybe Bucky’s some sort of kept boy, a sugar baby, perhaps. Steve’s given him these nice panties and has now asked Bucky to model them for him. Distantly, Bucky wonders if Steve would be into that kind of relationship.  
Steve calling his name snaps Bucky out of his whimsical daydream.
“Huh?” Bucky says, blinking owlishly at Steve. Damn, what’d he just miss?
Steve smiles benignly. “I asked if you could get up on your knees so that I could see the back.”
“Oh,” Bucky murmurs, “Yeah, sure.”
He rearranges himself so that he’s kneeling on the chaise, facing the brick wall behind it. Bucky slips the shirt off his shoulders and gathers most of the material in his hands, so that it drapes over the backs of his legs and leaves his ass completely exposed. When he hears Steve’s sharp intake of breath, he smirks – the criss-cross design exposes the top of his crack in a rather scandalous way.
Steve moves around him, taking shots at various angles. Bucky tenses his muscles and flexes his back, contorting his body every way he can, to give Steve some variety to work with.
“That’s good, Buck, that’s real good,” Steve praises, “Could you turn to the right a little – yes, just like that.”
The entire photoshoot is over in a depressingly short amount of time.
Steve calls it a wrap with a booming voice and a loud clap of his hands. Bucky shrugs the shirt back onto his shoulders, but leaves it unbuttoned as he walks back over to the dressing area, unwilling to hide his body from Steve’s appreciative gaze. The man in question gives Bucky a friendly smile as Bucky walks past him. Steve opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but gets distracted when Natasha calls him.
Bucky grabs the bag that he’d dumped beside the makeup station and brings it to the changing area. He slips out of the panties and the button-down, then pulls on the street clothes that he’d brought with him; CKs, a pair of black skinny jeans and his favourite red pullover. Bucky stuffs the hoodie and sweats that he’d been wearing earlier into his bag, bids goodbye to Wanda and is scanning the studio for Nat when someone catches his wrist.
“Hey,” Steve says breathlessly, when Bucky turns to face him.
“Hey yourself,” Bucky replies.
“I—uh, I just wanted to say that I had a great time working with you today,” Steve says, ducking his head shyly. “Uh—yeah, you were really fun to shoot. It’s always nice to work with someone playful and responsive.”
Bucky flushes, scuffing the toe of his Converse against the floor in embarrassment. “Um—thanks. That’s—yeah, it was real great working with you too, Steve. You—um. You really knew what you were doing.”
Really, Barnes? Can you not handle a compliment or something?
Steve ducks his head in acknowledgement of the praise, a tiny smile on his lips. “Thanks,” he murmurs. Steve opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, as if he were about to say something, but then thought better of it.
“You doin’ anything nice this afternoon?” Bucky asks, as he readjusts his grip on his bag.
Steve snorts. “You, I hope,” he mumbles. There’s a half-second of silence, before his eyes widen and a scarlet blush blooms over the apples of his cheeks.
“I—I mean,” he stammers “I—uh, shit, that’s not what I—I mean, yes, I’d like that but—okay, fine laugh it up.”
Bucky is giggling – giggling, like he’s some sort of schoolgirl – at Steve’s mortified expression. “Well, that’s one way to be direct,” he jokes, as he wipes the tears from his eyes.
If it were possible, Steve’s flush goes even redder. “I—what I meant to say,” Steve sighs, “Was—would you, uh, I mean, are you busy this afternoon?”
Bucky cocks his head to the side and appraises him. “Well,” he drawls, “I did have plans.”
Steve’s face falls. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t wanna—,”
“I was gonna go home,” Bucky continues, talking over Steve. “Take a bath, order in some pizza, crack open a beer, maybe watch some Game of Thrones.”
He trails off with a shrug. “But, y’know. ‘M open to other suggestions,” he says, knocking his shoulder against Steve’s.  
“Really?” Steve murmurs, a smile gracing his lips. “Well, maybe you’d let me take you out for a coffee?”
Bucky bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, Steve. Yeah, I’d really like that.”
293 notes · View notes
tyranttortoise · 7 years ago
Text
*I got called into work, so lemme post this up while I have the chance.
I participated in the lovely @thesinnerslounge‘s Secret Santa this year, and I got @vampirezelda!   I know you’re a sucker for a man that can cook--as well as a certain purple flamesman.  ;)
So here’s some Underfell Grillby x Reader SFW Gyftmas fluff~ <3  I hope you like it, and happy holidays my dear!  =D
You end up spending the holidays in your favorite place:  Grillby’s.
The neon sign, reflecting the tavern’s proprietor in bright purple script, has become a welcome home sign for you over the last couple of months.  You had quickly become a regular, which surprised you.  After all, you weren’t the most outgoing person, so being a human among all the rowdy monsters that frequented Grillby’s to drink every night seemed liked a recipe for disaster.  
It almost had been, at first.  They had been intrigued over the fact that a human would come in alone, and they’d either hit on you or attempted to scare you.  The bar’s owner had been the one to intervene.  
And, unsurprisingly... he was the reason you kept coming back.
As you enter the bar, the hot air of the interior hits you like a brick wall.  The difference is so abrupt that it stings you cheeks, and you wince; you’ll never quite get used to it during the winter.  The source of the heat is two large fireplaces roaring with fire magic on either side of the main space.
And, of course, the fire elemental standing behind the bar, chatting with a couple of other regulars.  
You clutch your gift box to your chest and begin making your way toward him.  Usually, the space is filled with tables, but they’ve been cleared away tonight, leaving only the booths and the bar for sitting.  The rest of the area has been made into a makeshift dance floor; for once, the juke box is actually working, and it’s playing classic holiday hits.  Most of the monsters are already drunk enough to be dancing; you spot a familiar skeleton that seems to be pretty wasted, gyrating with a couple of humans.  
When you reach the bar, Grillby turns away from the horse monster he was speaking with and looks over his wire-rim glasses at you.  A white-hot, sharp grin cracks across his indigo flames, and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken from just a glance.  
“.....thought you’d have plans tonight,” the bartender muses, his voice a deep baritone distorted by crackling flame.  Despite this, it still has a smooth quality to it that curls within you like smoke.  
“Why?  Because it’s Gyftmas?” you inquire, taking your usual seat at the bar.  You’ve noticed that since you started coming on a regular basis, your stool is always vacant whenever you arrive.  
He tilts his head to the side, holding your gaze.  “Figured you would have a date for it.”
Somehow, the fact that he brought up that you’d have a date--yet didn’t ask you on a date prior--stings.  Your merriment deflates slightly, and you stumble over your reply, “Well... I.... no.  I don’t.”
You can’t hold his gaze; your eyes drop to a point just below his chin.
It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“......shame,” he mutters, but you don’t catch his expression.  Instead, you decide you could use something to eat.  
“Can I get my usual?” you prompt, desperate to change the subject.  Grillby watches you for a moment more, before nodding and pushing away from the bar.
“.....coming right up,” he throws over his shoulder and then retreats into the kitchen in the back.  You blow out a sigh and take a deep breath.  This isn’t a big deal.  You were planning on confessing your feelings to him--or at the very least, asking him out for a drink somewhere that <i>wasn’t</i> at his bar.  You’re too determined to back down just because of a hiccup.  You clutch the giftbag in your lap tighter, the holiday bag crinkling around your fingertips.
The door to the establishment suddenly slams open with enough force to bounce off the adjacent wall.  The thunderous sound punctuates the loud music and causes you to start in your seat and whirl around just in time to see a skeleton strut inside with purpose.  You recognize him as the dancing skeleton's brother, Papyrus, though you only know of him by reputation.
He opens his mouth to shout something, but it can't be heard over the cheers that erupt from every monster in the bar.  
The dancefloor becomes a sea of monsters, all clamoring to clap Papyrus on the back with sharp-toothed grins and drunken slurred cheers.  His scowl softens and his shoulders straighten with what seems to be pride, but although his mouth is moving, he's still staring at his brother.  Sans seems to be utterly wasted; he wobbles on unsteady feet toward Papyrus with each arm around a human.  You can't make out the conversation, but Papyrus manages to extract himself from the crowd, pulling his brother by the arm.  
"....so the hero of Gyftmas made an appearance."  
Grillby's breath stirs the hair by your ear, and you turn to find your face dangerously close to his.  You don't pull back as you inquire, "There's a hero of Gyftmas?"
"To us, yes," Grillby claims, holding your gaze with that same smirk as before.  "He's the one that finally took down Gyftrot and stopped the Snowdin murders."
That's the first you've ever heard of it.  "Wait, is that what Gyftmas is about?  I thought it was just a monster Christmas."
".... it used to be a night of fear and trepidation, but now... now, it's a night we celebrate.  Especially now, on the Surface... it's a night to live."
You can still feel his warm breath, hot and arid against your face.  You'd certainly like to lean in the last couple of inches and really live (in the moment, at least), but you can't bring yourself to do so.  While your resolve wavers, Grillby finally pulls back and pushes a plate of piping hot food closer to you.  
"A night to live, huh?" you muse, now that there's enough space between the two of you to finally think straight.  "What about all the holiday decorations?"  You gesture to the bright lights strung throughout the bar, the garland on the stairs, the decorated trees in the corners--to say nothing of the upbeat holiday music.  
"......aesthetic," he replies with amusement widening his grin.  
"Mmhmmm," you dubiously retort, finally turning your attention to your food.  Instead of your usual bar food order, you're surprised to find a holiday feast in front of you.  There's sliced ham, sweet potatoes, and other seasonal treats on a plate.  You glance down the bartop and discover that no one else seems to have a plate like this.  When you turn your bewildered gaze back to Grillby, you find him watching you carefully.
"This is for me?" you blurt, confused by the fact that this isn't what you ordered.
"Cooked just for you," Grillby confirms, with a wink.  "....thought you might want something other than bar food for once."
It took him no time whatsoever to get the food from the kitchen, which makes you think he already had it prepared ahead of time.  Was it really cooked just for you?  Didn't he expect you to be on a date tonight instead of here?  
"Really?"  His smile doesn't waver, and he motions to the food, a fiery brow wisping upward to indicate that you should try it.  You do, and your cheeks flush under his scrutiny while you chew--though, you're able to push that aside because the food is amazing.  Every bite is cooked just right and bursting with flavor, and you can feel a tingle of magic that only enhances the experience.  Your expression lights up, and Grillby props his arms on the edge of the bar, leaning forward expectantly.  
From his look, you know that he knows it's amazing.
So, you shrug.  "Not bad," you claim once you swallow the bite and go for another.  The flamesman crackles in disbelief.
"....not bad?"
You hum thoughtfully while you chew and meet his gaze.  The man can cook, and you're weak for it; he even makes bar food taste heavenly, so getting an actual home-cooked meal from him is a dream come true.  You know your expression isn't as neutral as you'd like since you can't keep the grin off your face, but you do manage to keep it in check so you don't look deranged in front of your crush.  
"It might even be good," you concede, to which he chuckles, shaking his head.  
"Your praises make it worth slaving over a hot stove, my dear..." he murmurs in that low, sultry baritone, and your stomach feels as if it does a flip.  He did make it just for you, didn't he?
"Yo, Grillbz!  You gonna make some fer all o' us?" a bird monster chirps toward the bartender, drawing his attention.  Grillby fixes him with a deadpan stare that has the regular chortling.  "At least fill up a guy's glass, will ya?  I'm dyin' o' thirst!"
"....fine, fine," Grillby mutters as he excuses himself to do his bartending duties while you focus on eating.  Without him around, you suddenly realize just how loud the music has gotten.  Almost all of the patrons are up dancing; after all, it's rare that the juke box actually works, so they have to take advantage of the opportunity.
"Ya'know, I know somethin' that would quench my thirst."
A bear monster is suddenly sitting beside you, all sharp fangs and snazzy threads.  He pointedly looks you over, a glaze in his eye indicative of his inebriated state.  "How'd you like to dance with a former mayor?"
He leans in, smelling of booze, and extends his furry hand to you.  You've seen him a few times, but never spoke directly to him.  
"No, thanks," you politely refuse, gesturing to your food as an out.  "I'm eating right now."
"Not a problem," the bear states nonplussed.  He withdraws his hand and props an elbow against the bartop.  "I can wait until you're finished."
"There's no need," you insist, though his expression doesn't change; he's not getting the hint.  So, you lie, "I'm here with someone."
"You are?"  His furry brow arches.  "I saw you come in alone.  Who're you with?"
Dammit, leave it to a drunken bear monster to call you out.  Before you can think of a feasible excuse, you feel an incredibly warm hand settle on your shoulder.  From your peripherals, you can see indigo flames, burning bright from above the bartender's fur-lined coat.  
It feels much hotter than before.
"....me," Grillby rasps.  "So, take a hint and move on."
The bear raises his paws and jumps off the stool.  "I... I didn't know it was like that, Grillbz, honest!" he stammers, before beating an awkward retreat into the writhing bodies on the dancefloor.  
"Thanks," you murmur, but Grillby doesn't move his hand.  Instead, he slides his palm down your arm and grips your hand in his, prying it away from the gift bag you're holding in your lap.  
"....come on.  Let's dance."
You're not going to say no to that, but you also don't want to abandon your present for him.  Grillby seems to notice your hesitation and reaches over with his other hand to take the gift bag and set it beneath the bar.  At least the patrons here know better than to ever step foot behind his bar.
Grillby leads you around the edge and then laces his fingers with yours.  He moves to the outskirts of the dancefloor and draws you close.  "I didn't know you danced," you blurt; you've never seen him so much as nod his head along with a beat.
"I'm full of secrets," he vaguely claims, while one hand slips to the small of your back.  In the next beat, he pulls you flush against him.  You can feel the heat of his flames through the layers of his dress clothes, and even though his hand is in yours, it doesn't burn.  Instead, it just tingles with magic; the flames feel as if they roil beneath an invisible barrier.  
"Tell me some of them," you implore with a grin as Grillby leads the dance, moving with the beat of next song, Baby, It's Cold Outside.
His sharp smirk spreads upward.  ".....if I did, I'd have to kill you."
You fix him with a look.  "C'mon, Grillby.  Please?"
He hand squeezes yours as the two of you complete a swaying circle to the beat.  "Fine.... I like it when you beg like that."
Your face lights up, and you falter in your next step, causing him to chuckle and wind his arm tighter around your back.  "....I also like watching your face turn that lovely shade of red."
In response, you can feel your face glow even brighter. "That's not fair," you chide, slipping your arm around his neck so you can hide your face against his shoulder.  The fur from his jacket tickles your cheek, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest.  "Can you even blush?"
He laughs at that, the sound raspy and crackling.  "Yes, I can..."  His head tilts down, and you can hear his voice right at your ear, clearer than ever.  "You just haven't done anything to make it happen."
A challenge.  
"How'm I supposed to do that?  Call you Hot Stuff?" you mumble, drawing another crackling chuckle.  "Tell you that you really light up the room?"
"... now I think you're just trying to seduce me," he teases, releasing your hand to wrap both arms around you and draw you flush against his body.  
If only it was that easy.
You wind your other arm around his neck, too, your fingers idly toying with the dancing flames that comprise his hair.  "Caught me," you half-joke, before releasing an exaggerated sigh with your cheek against his shoulder.  A shudder ripples through him, and you belatedly realize that your breath is probably cold compared to the natural, arid heat of his body.
Was it a good shudder or a bad shudder?  It's the difference between stoking a fire and trying to blow out birthday candles.  You decide to experiment and lightly blow on the violet flames visible just above the collar of his dress shirt.
You feel his chest expand against yours as he sucks in a breath--and his face actually glows brighter!
"Hey, I think I did it!" you announce, wide-eyed as Grillby's smoldering gaze meets yours.  You must look incredibly proud because he stifles his sudden laughter against your shoulder, his body shaking with suppressed chuckles.  
When he pulls himself together, his mouth is at your ear again, only this time, you can feel a flame dance across the shell of it.  Your fingers inadvertently dig into his fiery wisps of hair, and he growls, "Now I know you're trying to seduce me."
You don't deny it; you mean to playfully laugh, but it falls flat.  Weak, just like your knees.  The song switches to a more upbeat All I Want for Christmas is You, but neither of you change the tempo of your swaying motions.  
You can hear your blood pounding in your ears and the fluttering in your stomach.  You've both lapsed into silence, pressed against one another on the outskirts of the dancing, writhing drunken bodies.  Is now the time to ask him on a date?  Or is all of this just flirtatious fun--just two people holding onto one another on the holidays?
You try to muster the courage to speak, but the words you want just won't form.  So, you hold onto the moment as long as you can, tightening your arms around him, relishing in the scent of campfire and spice, in the feeling of his hair wrapping and twisting around your fingers, seemingly with a mind of its own.  
Halfway through the song, Grillby stops moving.  Disappointment washes over you; is it time for him to get back to work?  Can't he at least finish the final minute of the song?  Slowly, you manage to pull your head up from his chest, only to meet his amused smile.
"....you should pay attention to where you're going."
He was leading the dance, you think, confused.  Your brow furrows slightly, and he nods his head toward the ceiling.  Your gaze slowly follows, and you stare in surprise at the cluster of mistletoe hanging above.  He'd lead you directly beneath it and stopped.
All of your prior disappointment is washed away by nerves.  You don't let it show, however; no, you smirk and level him with a stare.  "Why... if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."
"Is it working?"  His own smirk is still in-place, and you feel your stomach do a back-flip.  
Although your nerves are thrumming, you decide to be honest.  "Oh, yes."
Something else crosses his expression-- a focus you can see in his smoldering gaze as he regards you over the top of his glasses.  In the next moment he brings one of his hands up to cup your chin... and then, his mouth crashes on yours.  
His lips are malleable; you can feel a thin barrier of magic around them, making your own lips tingle.  This isn't a chaste kiss, however; he wastes no time working your lips apart to thrust his tongue into your mouth and explore.  His tongue is liquid heat, though not hot enough to be unpleasant.  Instead, the sensation sets your nerves on fire; his tongue dances around yours, winding around it, filling your mouth with the undulating sensation of magic that draws a deep, contented moan from the back of your throat.          
Grillby crackles a growl in response from deep within, and you desperately clutch to the front of his jacket, the fur between your fingers serving to ground you.
His mouth is dry; there's no swapping saliva here.  Rather, you can feel your mouth drying out as the kiss continues, your face flushed and warm.  As much as you'd like to stay glued to him for longer, you have to break apart and swallow in an effort to get your tongue damp again.  
The fire elemental seems to anticipate this and moves his mouth across your jaw and down the side of your neck.  
If his arm wasn't so tight around your neck, you know that you'd end up in a puddle at his feet.  
Finally, he pulls back to appraise your expression, and his smirk widens at what he sees.  You know you must look dazed, your lips slightly parted and your face completely flushed--both from the moment and the proximity of his heat.  
You finally break the silence.  "Wow, that was... quite the Gyftmas present."  
"... I was hoping your real Gyftmas present could be dinner at my place."
Real Gyftmas present?  Your mind is whirling with the implications, but you can't help but point out, "We're already at your place."
"Smart ass," he chides with a chuckle.  "Upstairs.  My home.  A date."
Date!  He said date!  You're practically glowing at this point, despite the fact that you're not the fire elemental in this equation.  "Yes, absolutely," you agree, before you realize something -- you haven't given him his present yet!
"Speaking of Gyftmas presents... you haven't opened yours yet."
"....you're not my present?" he quips, his fingers brushing a wayward strand of your hair back into place.  The ghost of his fingertips against your skin has you wanting to kiss him again, but you manage to refrain.  
"You put your present behind the bar."  
".... it is?"  From the look on his face, you realize that he had no idea that gift bag was for him.  "Now I have to know what's inside it." Immediately, he whirls around toward the bar and makes his way back to it, his arm wound around your waist.  
He draws you behind the bar with him-- which is quite the privilege; the regulars at the bar all whoop and holler, trying to fluster you since they witnessed your mistletoe kiss.  Grillby pointedly ignores them and instead sets the gift bag on the table to reach into the tissue paper.  
He pulls out a holiday tin, filled to the brim with cookies, oreo balls, and fudge -- all of it homemade.  You wanted to make something for him, as well as show him you can cook, too.  Although, if things go well, you could likely convince him to let you cook for your upcoming dinner date.
"....... you made these?" he queries as he picks up a piece of fudge.  It's a wonder the chocolate doesn't melt in his hand, but Grillby has careful control over his magic.  
"Yeah, I baked all of them for you to try."  Suddenly, you're feeling a little shy.  "I mean, you're always cooking for me, so I wanted to return the favor."  
He pops it into his mouth and chews slowly, savoring the flavor.  You begin feeling nervous.  "What do you think?"
Suddenly, he smirks and throws your own words back at you, "Not bad."  You swat his chest as he pulls you close to him--once again ignoring the goading cheers of his customers.  
He leans in, his lips ghosting yours as he adds, "....but you taste better."  
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dracoandluna · 7 years ago
Text
Prompt: Based off of Taylor Swift's song and music video, "You Belong With Me". Modern AU. (This takes place in America so don't hate me that they don't use British slang!)
Draco heaved a great sigh before collapsing onto his bed. He lay there for a few moments, just letting the stress of the day melt off of him and into the depths of his mattress.
He hadn’t heard back from Hogwarts yet, his dream school, he was pretty sure he had just bombed that AP Calc test (it made no difference to Lucius that Draco was in BC, not AB), his team had lost their last football game, nearly disqualifying them from the regional championship, and his girlfriend (emphasis on girl, vague connotation on friend) was being a complete bitch (though he supposed that was nothing new, he just wasn’t used to it being directed at him).
After lying down for a few moments did nothing to relax him, Draco grudgingly got up and ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly messing it up. On almost instinct, Draco glanced over to the left and saw that Luna was in her bedroom too, lying on her stomach on her bed, writing or drawing in a tattered journal.
Draco had lived in entire life in this house, and Luna, his neighbor, had also lived her entire life in the house right next to his. His childhood was filled with memories of playing outside with her in the summer, and being holed up together inside during the winter. As a boy, he had seen Luna something akin to a sister, though even at the age of seven Draco had easily concluded that she was far too barmy to share any blood with him.
He couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the time he and Luna had entered the local soap box derby at age nine and had won against a bunch of teenagers because Luna had brought along a fire extinguisher as an extra boost of speed. Luna was weird, but she was undeniably a genius.
He must have been staring at her the entire time while he was reminiscing, because she looked up at him and waved, before quickly scribbling something in her journal.
Holding the book up, Draco read the message she had written to him.
Congratulations on your game yesterday
Draco scowled at her, and she kept smiling her dreamy smile at him. Had it been anyone else who had said that it would have been a slight, but after knowing Luna for 18 years, he knew she somehow meant it.
Grabbing a notebook from his desk, he hastily wrote:
What are you going on about? We LOST
She had the decency to look surprised, at least.
How is that a bad thing? Failures always impart valuable lessons, wins don’t
Rolling his eyes, he simply waved her off before sliding his curtains close.
                                                             *
“I feel so bad for you, Draco,” Pansy laughed, staring at something over his shoulder.
Frowning, Draco looked behind him to see what she was talking about. There sat Luna, alone, wearing the ugliest pair of sunglasses he had ever seen, while calmly looking around the bustling cafeteria.
“I have no idea how you put up living right next to her,” Pansy continued. “You should have gotten your father to evict the Lovegood’s years ago.”
“Then who would he go to when you’re not around?” Blaise said smugly, looking at Draco challengingly.
“You’re disgusting,” Draco said to Blaise, unsure if he was mad that Pansy was making fun of Luna (didn’t he do that all the time?) or at what Blaise had insinuated. He didn’t know how he had found out about his friendship with Luna, since he went to great lengths to keep it hidden, but Blaise never passed up the opportunity to bring it up against him.
Pansy, who had gone red from chagrin, clutched at his forearm with what he guessed was supposed to be a romantic gesture, but was frankly kinda painful.
“That’s not true, right, Draco?” she asked, her voice starting to take on that shrill octave.
Vincent and Greg looked at him expectantly, as if waiting to see if they could make fun of Luna or not.
“Of course it’s not true,” Draco answered coolly.  
Draco lost his appetite, and listened on silently as Greg and Vincent began to harp on Luna. When Pansy rested her head on his shoulder, Draco stared at the table and wondered what lesson was to be learned from this failure.
                                                              *
This was the last party Draco would attend until the semester was over; he wanted to end the grading quarter strong, and reasoned that homecoming was just two weeks away, he could last two weekends without beer and sex.
Some shithead (he couldn’t even remember who’s house this was) decided to play French dubstep instead of regular fucking dubstep, and the beer was grossly warm.
Pansy and Daphne were passed out on each other on a couch, and Draco felt a flash of irritation since it looked as if he wasn’t getting a lay tonight- from either girl.
“Who spat in your cup?” Blaise shouted to him over the sound of the God-awful music.
“Your mom,” Draco replied, not sober enough to feel ashamed at how lame that comeback was, but too drunk to come up with a better one.
“My mom is dead!” Theodore yelled, his eyes glassy but a large smile on his face. Theo always became weirdly emotional drunk.
“Whatever, Greg got some weed, are you gonna spark up?” Blaise asked, swaying unevenly to the beat as Theo leaned heavily onto him.
Suddenly the entire atmosphere of the party seemed disgusting to Draco, and he wanted nothing more than to leave. The feeling of being alone while surrounded by people was disconcerting, to say the least.
So that’s what he did. Ignoring Blaise and Theo’s confused shouts, Draco stumbled out of the house, and realized too late that Vincent had been his ride (Lucius had taken away his car for bombing that calc test).
Too stubborn to go inside and find that undoubtedly drunk moron, Draco pulled up the collar of his jacket and began to make his slow trek home.
The weather was frighteningly cold, and Draco soon began to lose feeling in his fingers- his toes had long gone.
He glanced up at a street sign and realized with a sinking feeling that he didn’t even know where he was, much less how to get back to his home- or even the house he had just been at.
Pulling out his phone from the pocket of his jeans he cursed through chattering teeth when he found that it was dead.
Did all my karma have to accumulate into one night? Draco thought viciously as he nearly tripped over a section of uneven pavement.
Beep beep!
Startled, Draco looked over to the street to see a car had pulled up. A yellow Volkswagen Bug to be exact. Luna’s car to be even more exact.
Hesitantly making his way towards the car, Draco nearly cried in relief when the window rolled down to reveal Luna’s honey blonde head.
“Hello Draco!” she greeted cheerfully. “Are you also out looking for the shelia bird?”
“Luna,” he slurred. “Can you get me home?”
Her large eyes widened in understanding and she nodded her head yes.
The warmth of her car felt like a kiss from an angel on his nearly frostbitten skin, and he had never been more comfortable in his life, though her car was so small that his long legs were folded uncomfortably to fit them.
She seemed to sense his need for silence, because she said nothing to him, and only hummed quietly to herself.
Draco had nearly fallen asleep in his seat when suddenly he had to ask her a pressing question.
“Would you date Theodore Nott?” he asked, looking as carefully as he could into her face.
They were at a red light, and her face was bathed in the red color when she turned to look at him, the lighting making her look older than she actually was.
“If I loved him, why wouldn’t I?” Luna asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.
Draco suddenly felt very very foolish.
“Is just…his mom is dead too,” he said, trying and failing to show the reasoning behind his inquiry.
“I know,” was all she said. “We were once in group therapy together, he’s rather nice.”
Draco didn’t know this, and suddenly and irrationally, he was angry. Why didn’t she tell him she was in therapy? Why didn’t he ever even realize she needed therapy?
“I’m nice!” he exclaimed, waving his hands wildly.
“Are you?” she asked in a voice that didn’t imply that she didn’t agree, but in one that called for actual self-evaluation
He ducked his head like a reprimanded child.
“Sometimes I say things so I can keep looking cool,” he admitted.
“But I don’t think you’re a loon!” he said desperately, reaching over to grab her one hand that rested on top of the transmission. He wished he was more sober so he could appreciate how her hand felt under his. “I just want Pansy off my back! I want you to be my friend!”
He hadn’t even realized they had pulled into his driveway until she turned off her car.
She looked at him sadly.
“I am your friend, Draco,” Luna said softly. “But maybe you should question why you’re with someone who you don’t want to be with.”
Draco had no response.
                                                                 *
For the next two weeks, Draco ignored Luna almost religiously. He had wanted to die of mortification when he had woken up the next day after his emotional outburst. He also fought with Pansy nearly every day, and every time they made up and made out, Draco wondered if a pair of tits in his hands were worth the emotional baggage that came with them.
He spoke with Theo more, and learned that Theodore was a really good listener. He wondered if that was what made Luna think of him so highly.
Nah, Theo was a scrawny wimp who had nothing better to say, which was why he just shut upped and listened, Draco concluded, thus making him much nicer to be around.
It was a gray Wednesday afternoon when he and his team congregated in the locker room, with Coach Hooch outside waiting for them.
He was pulling on his jersey when Harry said, “Guess who I’m going to homecoming with?”
“Ginny?” Draco guessed, sending a haughty look at Ron.
“Uh, no,” Harry said awkwardly.
“Damn right…” Ron grumbled which made Draco grin even more.
“No, I’m going with Luna!” Harry said, earning an eye roll from Ron.
Draco stopped grinning.
                                                        *
It was Thursday night, the night before Homecoming, and Draco was in his room, trying and failing to finish his AP gov essay on congressional hearings. His curtains were drawn completely.
After staring at the same sentence he had been stuck on for half an hour, he ripped open his curtains to find Luna also at her desk, diligently working away. Tapping his window with a knuckle, the sound managed to grab Luna’s attention, who looked up and gave him a smile, as if he hadn’t been avoiding her for weeks.
Deciding not to waste any more time, he whipped open a notebook and scribbled:
Why are you going with Harry?
Luna on her part showed no reaction to his question, to which Draco was almost grateful for; the entire prospect was humiliating enough.
Because he’s my friend
Draco sank back into his chair at her reply, his chest suddenly feeling lighter. But it seemed that Luna was not done, because she held up another page.
Why are you going with Pansy?
Truthfully, he hadn’t even asked Pansy to homecoming, it had just been assumed. Suddenly, he didn’t even know if he wanted to go with her.
But Draco was stubborn and prideful, and he was done looking foolish in front of Luna, so he wrote back:
Because I love her.
He didn’t give any time for Luna to respond before he almost violently drew his curtains.
He stared at the piece of paper for an hour, before crossing out her, and adding you. This time, his actions were completely violent when he crumpled the paper and threw it across his room.
                                                         *
For the briefest of moments, Draco thought he had died.
He had been mercilessly tackled onto the ground, and the very air from his lungs had been completely expelled, leaving them unable to refill themselves.
As his body struggled to get his lungs inflated once more, he was dimly aware of a thundering roar of cheers: someone had scored a touchdown.
When he could finally breathe again, he weakly pushed himself up, only to see Longbottom and Pansy in the middle of the field, passionately kissing.
                                                           *
“Draco, I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal about this,” Pansy complained. “I’m cheer captain, it just makes sense that I congratulate the guy who scored the winning touchdown!”
“You’re right, I am making a big deal,” Draco said agreeably. “So let’s just break up.”
Pansy’s expression then shifted, and for a moment, under the glittering lights and colored shadows, she looked truly evil
“You can’t break up with me!” she seethed, nostrils flaring like a bull.
“I just did,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.
“You listen here-“
“I don’t care!” Draco shouted, finally reaching the end of patience. This seemed to silence Pansy; he had never raised his voice at her before, it wasn’t how he was raised to treat ladies. But Pansy wasn’t a lady, she was shallow and mean spirited. She made him shallow and mean spirited. He didn’t want to be like that anymore. He wanted to go back to when he was younger and he didn’t care what his friends and father thought, he just lived.
Turning away from her and briskly walking away, he passed Blaise who was grinding his date, Theo who seemed to have found a voice and was chatting up a redhead that holy shit  was Ron’s sister!  Not wanting to be in the same vicinity of an angry Ron, Draco went over to Neville and his date Hannah.
Neville looked apologetic immediately upon seeing him.
“Hey man, I’m really sorry about that thing with Pansy, I swear she wouldn’t get off of me!” Neville apologized profusely looking between him and a ticked off Hannah pleadingly.
“It’s fine,” Draco dismissed. “Do you know where Harry is?”
“Poor guy is by the drinks,” Neville told him sadly.
“Poor guy?” Draco repeated.
“Luna ditched him,” Hannah said, looking as if she didn’t quite believe what she said herself.
Not bothering to say goodbye, Draco quickly went over to where Harry was, needing to hear the confirmation of this rumor from the source.
“Hey,” Draco greeted his dark-haired friend, who looked quite lonely by the drinks.
“I messed up, Draco,” Harry wailed, clutching his forehead with his hand.
“What happened?” Draco demanded, his pulse quickening with dread.
“I love Ginny!” Harry exclaimed. “How could I have let her slip from my fingers?”
Draco stared at him incredulously.
Harry noticed this after a few moments. “What?” he asked self-consciously.
“Where the hell is your date, Luna?” Draco snarled, inches away from strangling him.
“Oh, Luna left to get something, said she’d be right back,” Harry answered distractedly, watching Theo and Ginny with mournful eyes, with a seething Ron in the background.
Something in his gut told him to look to his left, which he did. There standing at the entryway was Miss. Know it All Granger and Luna.
Draco’s mouth fell open at the sight of Luna. She looked…breathtakingly gorgeous. In her silver gown and necklace, she looked like a celestial deity. Granger said something to her and patted her arm encouragingly when Luna caught his eye and waved, before walking (though it looked more like floating) towards him.
Without telling them to, his legs carried him over to where she stood, the loud noises of the dance melting away, and the heat of multiple bodies in a small space turning into the heat of a rapidly beating heart.
“Hello Draco,” she greeted once he finally reached her.
“Luna,” he said, throat dry as he shamelessly drank in the sight of her, undoubtedly she was the prettiest girl in attendance, but truthfully, this was not the most beautiful he had ever seen her. No, that was when they had stargazed all night, or had a flour fight when baking, or building a snow fort: all these years, Luna had shown to him over and over again, that her beauty shone both inside and out, and he wanted to kick himself for only realizing that now.
“Why aren’t you with Pansy?” Luna asked, tilting her head.
Swallowing hard, Draco pulled out the incredibly crumpled and partially torn piece of paper from his jacket pocket.
Because I love her you
Luna smiled, and revealed that she held a folded piece of paper in her palm as well. Unfolding it, she held it up to him.
I love you
He was vaguely aware of Blaise cat calling in the background when he kissed her.
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thatawesomenerdygirl · 8 years ago
Text
Misjudgement
Requested by; Anon
“If request open, will u pls do some angst bruce x reader? Where they used to date for months but he doesnt take their relationship seriously. Its just a cover for public image to him. He thought the reader is a shallow person like the usual women he dated before. But reader is actually smart but choose to pretend to be shallow. Bruce broke up with her. Then years later they met n he learn who she is. He want to get to know her n pursue her but she still hurt with him. Thanks in advance.”
Warning; Angst (not really because I suck) and sudden change of POV. And off the prompt, just a little.
You had your arms around Bruce's, smile not leaving your lips as you went to your 12th date with him. You've dated for months with him, you love him with all your heart. You always at your best when you were with him, all dolled up so you wouldn't feel self-conscious and out of place when he brought you to a fancy looking place.
Tonight was the night he promised that he would spend his time with you, he brought you to a quite fancy restaurant. You thanked all the gods up there that you've made the right decisions to dress as fancy as you could even though your intention was only to spent the night with him, playing or whatever, but being a shy woman that you were you couldn't say it. The words were stuck in your throat.
So you gave up and just spent your night dining in a restaurant nearby until late. You didn't have any appointments or meeting with your manager and the other agencies tomorrow morning, being a model as a job was hard, you were treated like a barbie doll.
The both of you sat down on a table near the window, the view was so great you couldn't take your eyes off it. But when you did you spotted a tinge of uncomfortableness in Bruce's blue eyes, he somehow didn't look as happy as you did.
"Bruce?" You called to the billionaire softly, placing your much smaller hand on top of his. You could feel he tensed as he looked at you, "what's wrong?"
"Don't worry darling," he finally responded after a moment of awkward silence, he moved his hand from your gentle grip to put it into his pocket. "I'm okay." He assured.
You didn't believe any of his words but decided to let it drop because you knew he wouldn't like it if you pushed the topic too far. You also had this weird feeling, your chest tightened when you think about it. Why?
The foods came, the two of you had a little chit chat, you did most of the talk since Bruce had preferred to listen instead of talking. You asked him about his day he only answered with boring as usual with a chuckle.
It went on and on, it got worse each day. You were always the one who called him, asking him about his day, what is he doing, telling him that you missed him, saying goodnight even I love you. You missed him a lot. On Saturday night you decided not to contact him to see if he would do it.
You received no calls and no messages. No nothing.
It saddened you, it made your heart drop when you woke up to work. Your manager had warned you about him, telling you that he was just using you to which you answered with,
"Give him a break, he's a kind and generous man. He's sweet, all of you need to see past his walls, his barriers. I love him not for his money, I love him for...Him, nothing else matters."
You managed to smile for the entire day until someone came into your changing room. A mail woman, you greeted her with the widest smile on your face. She returned your smile and gave you a letter.
"Oh, from Bruce." You smiled softly after reading where it was from. Your smile dropped at what you saw next.
Let's end this. This won't ever work.
-B.
The mail woman saw your tears that slowly dripping down to the paper, they dropped right on Bruce's signature. The ink slowly faded because of your tears, the old woman you didn't know hugged you hoping it would bring you some comfort. You gladly accepted her little embrace as you cried.
Your manager who just came back from a coffee shop saw your state. She immediately put the coffee cups down and joined to embrace you. You kept on breaking down, everything was so blurry, so monochrome. All colors were gone from your eyes.
Since then you stopped being a model, your manager understands and she supported you. She even helped you looked for a new job, she knew how much of a smarty you were, she knew your abilities and skill because you were the one who helped her with everything that she couldn't handle. You became a scientist and your manager who also a lowkey smarty became your partner.
It took years for you to completely forgot about Bruce Wayne, about the good times you soon realized that you were the only one who enjoyed it, all the talks, everything. You even realized that he never took your relationship seriously, he used you. You were wrong... Or weren't you?
Soon your names were spread all over the news and cities, not because of your successful model career this time, instead, it was because of your brain. Your accomplishments, your ideas to make the city a better place, your works, your inventions. Not your body.
It was so satisfying, it felt good to be yourself and not the shallow woman everybody had come to know.
Everything you did reached Bruce's ears, he watched you from his TV in his office, he even watched every speech you made. He misjudged you, he made a wrong move. He looked down at a scarf you made for him on your first ever Valentine's day, he should've known that you weren't like any woman he had met and dated.
Those women never made something for him, they never even tried to. Bruce only could imagine how broken you were when he sent you that letter, that heartbreaking letter.
He ran his fingers through his raven hair, a sigh of frustration left his chapped lips. He had never felt like this before, why should he care? You were nothing. You were supposed to be nothing.
Then without him knowing 2 years had passed, Bruce couldn't get you off his mind. Karma is a bitch. He lived 2 more years of his life thinking about you, he now had fallen for you. He wanted to know you better, apologizes for what he did and even telling you the truth. Hours after hours he made up his mind.
He needs you.
2.31 PM, your work will be over in another 29 minutes. You didn't mind to stay longer in the lab since you enjoyed it, you enjoyed making things.
"(Y/N)! Someone is looking for you." Your colleague said, the blonde man brought in someone you hadn't met in years, you never expected to meet him here. You stared up at Bruce with wide eyes as soon as your gaze landed on him, you slowly gaining your composure back and looked at your male colleague.
"Thank you, I need some privacy."
He gave you a nod, a hint of worry was visible on his face. Of course, he knew your little scandal with the playboy, it reached everybody's ears.
"Please sit." You offered, he didn't budge and walked to where you were currently working on. It was a little device, a really small device. "What is it, Mr. Wayne?" You asked politely.
Bruce was taken aback upon hearing your voice, it was so different. It somehow had changed. When he first heard your voice it was so annoying he wanted to cover his ears every time you talked but now it sounded like a music. gentle, melodic and soothing were the only thing that could describe you right now.
Bruce didn't realize he had been silent the whole time until he heard your voice calling his name again.
"Mr. Wayne?"
"Oh, sorry." He quickly apologized.
"You should be." Your words made him tensed in his place, he looked at you still with his usual face but inside he felt his stomach churned and filled with an uncomfortable feeling.
"I shouldn't have done that." He finally responded.
"No, you shouldn't have."
More silence, you seemed so calm under the awkwardness. You couldn't help it, you were used to it. This awkwardness was the same thing you felt when you were still with him, still happy.
"Are you trying to get me back?"
Yes. He answered in his mind, I want to know you better I want to see you better from a different perspective.
"You're too dangerous for me Bruce." You continued, stopping your work and leaned your back against the seat. Eyes looking up at him sadly, "You turned me away like I begged for your money." You added.
Bruce didn't say anything, he couldn't say anything which you took as an opportunity to continue your speech. "I loved you, I did. I thought I saw through you but I was so naïve and stupid, so wrong."
You didn't notice Bruce had knelt down in front of you and gently took your smaller hand in his, it felt so warm now. The only thing you could feel when you dated him was coldness, it felt weird.
Bruce felt your fingers twitched in surprise but he didn't draw his hand back, he gave you a gentle squeeze.
"I was blind back then." He finally spoke up, "I didn't know it would hurt you that much. I thought you were like the other women and I was wrong I misjudged you. I'm just going to ask you once, I don't want to force you, will you give me another chance to get to know you better?"
You stared at his blue eyes, noticing that he didn't get enough sleep. Another silence filled the room once more before you stood up and drew your hand back from him.
"I don't know Bruce, I'm still scared." You grabbed your bag, walking towards the door before opening it open and stepped out. "I'll think about it."
[ END ]
Nope, not gonna continue this, I'm sorry!!!
Sorry for grammar errors hope you enjoyed!
-K!
Oh a little fun fact, I rewrote this like... 2 times. The other two has 2000 more words XD AND I DELETED THEM!
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jayankles · 8 years ago
Text
First Best Friend
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Word Count: 1743
Warnings: Little Angst, nice fluffy ending.
A/N – this is for @jared-padaloveme ‘s Fluffy Birthday Challenge. Happy Birthday Juju! With the prompt/trope → “You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting vry suspicious.”
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The first time you met Sam Winchester, you were only a little munchkin. You barely remember but your mom had taken pictures. They were kept in your memory box, stored deep inside your closet, hidden under a few old sweaters that don't fit you anymore but you refuse to throw away.
It was your first day at kindergarten, you were the next kid that join several months after the official school year had started. At first you were excited, it was an opportunity to meet new people, broaden your horizons, deviate from your comfort zone but the more you thought about it the more butterflies flew in your stomach, threatening to park their wings and bodies at the pit of your stomach.
Mrs Johnson, your new teacher, had introduced you to the class that sat in the rug. She had asked for a volunteer to show you around, everyone with the exception of one snickered, nobody wanted to help the new kid. Tears filled your eyes but you quickly brushed them away, looking down at your feet. At least your feet couldn't make fun of you. You had lost all hope, the hope that a young child should never lose, until... 'I'll do it!' A boy shouted as the laughter died down. A hand shot into the air before he uncrossed his legs and stood up making his way to where you and Mrs Johnson were. 'Thank you, Sam. Alright class, let's get down to business.' 'To defeat the Huns,' you whispered. Sam smiled at your Disney reference. The rest of the class abruptly stood, the suddenness of the motions catching you off guard. Your hand flew into Sam's, your small body inching closer to his as the rest of your classmates stormed close to you to get to their working stations.
Sam Winchester had come into you life and turned it completely upside down. He was your first friend. Ever. You came home from school a bouncy child, with a bright smile on your face. One that could light up the entire planet. Your father was confused at your behaviour when he had picked you up from school. Giddiness spread through your chest as you recalled that very same day's events. Sam had been so kind right from the get go. You talked about how weird it felt being the new kid, how scary it was, but then Sam had changed the subject. You talked about your families; favourite foods; anything your little minds could think of. You were called to the carpet for a quick recap of the day before you were send home with your parents and guardians. Before Sam could walk off, you grabbed him by the hand and let him lead you to the rug, where you sat cross legged and side by side.
Naturally, you and Sam remained close friends. Whenever you were sitting by yourself; or when the bigger kids thought it would be a good idea to pick on you - he was always there to make you feel better. He was your protector, your guardian, your best friend. You had even invited him over to your house for a play date every once in a while. You never even thought it was odd when he didn't suggest going to his place 'We'll stay friends forever, right Sam?' 'Always and forever, (Y/N). I promise.' You had kept that promise until suddenly Mrs Johnson had announced that Sam had moved away and would not be going to that class or even school anymore.
You had kept the photos and forgotten about them until recently, you slipped it into your wallet and kept it near you at all times.
You had finished the rest of kindergarten without Sam, you hadn't made many friends after he left, and to be totally honest you were a wreck after you had been told Sam had moved to another school. Even your parents noticed the difference in your attitude. Your parents had promised to take you to the park then get some ice cream. With what you had learnt, you simply said to them, 'don't make promises you can't keep!' Then stormed out of the living room and up to your bedroom. The only place that you found solitude, it was your very own sanctuary. They left you to calm down for a few hours. You had cried yourself to exhaustion and eventually fell asleep in the comfort of your own bed. Your mother's sickeningly sweet voice roused you from your peace less sleep. Groaning, you rolled away from her, screwing your eyes shut. 'What's wrong, sweetie?' 'Nothing! Leave me alone, mom.' Moving her hand to your face, she gently coaxed yours away. With your eyes still screwed tight, she did the one thing that always calmed you as an infant; she ran her finger delicately between the crease in your brow. Begrudgingly, you relaxed at the familiar touch, and huffed as you rolled over and hugged your little arms around your mom. 'Sammy promised me!' You whimpered into her neck. 'Mom, he promised we would be friends forever and he left. He left and I have no one.' She hushed you, cradling you in her arms as her hand stroked up and down the length of your back.
You continued the rest of the year in a funk, nevertheless you powered through and tried your hardest to make friends with as many other children as you could. Not that that approach was completely successful, you still had three other friends that you would spend your time with. You finished high school; you were a straight A student with a few B's but you preferred to not talk about a couple of D's you got in biology.
Your true passion, though, was journalism. You had always loved writing stories, factual or fiction; you loved them both equally. You loved learning the history behind the written word. When you were given the opportunity, you decided to go to Stanford to carry out your dream, and try to get a degree in Journalism.
Waving goodbye to your parents, you climbed into your car, and wiped away the tears that fell as you pushed your final box across the seat.
Arriving after a few hours, you found the correct campus that you were supposed to go to, a few trips there and back to unload your car and settle into your new home.
Your new roommate was so kind, you found out his name was Sam Winchester. The name sparked something in you like you knew his name but just couldn’t place it.
You had practically run straight into him grabbing his hand and pulling him down with you; you were always falling over your own two feet. Laughing and introducing yourselves, you said goodbye but awkwardly walked to the same dorm room. ‘I guess your my roommate.’
‘Hey, you wanna go to a concert?’
‘As long as you’re there with me, duh.’
You quickly packed all essentials; food, water, money, spare clothes, phone, and you could never forget your journal and your favourite pen. They were carelessly shoved into your duffel before you hoisted it over your shoulder and left.
When you got there you almost lost him, if it wasn’t for his height, you would have been cluelessly wandering around trying to find your friend.
You grabbed his hand once again, ‘would you stop leaving me? I’m gonna lose you, you jackass!’ You laughed and your clutched tightened on him.
When strolling through the corridors, on your way to a lecture, side by side with Sam, other students started rushing in your direction to get to their class. Panicking, you reached for Sam’s hand and enveloped his with yours, it was always a habit you had; when you were scared, when you were happy, when you were excited, any excuse really to hold Sam’s hand.
He looked down at you with a smile on his face, dimples deep in his cheeks, he squeezed your hand before he let go a swung an arm around your shoulder, drawing you into his side.
‘I gotta ask you a question.’ Sam asked as you walked to the library.
Adjusting the strap on your shoulder, but before you turned to him, you saw five people walking in your direction, your hand inconspicuously travelled down and gripped his.
‘Shoot.’
‘That,’ he points to your entwined hands, ‘when we’re in the hallway, it doesn’t matter if there are fifty or five people you always hold my hand. I’m starting to get suspicious.’
Immediately, you released his hand and looked down at your feet, ‘I’m sorry, I used to do it all the time as a kid. Guess I never really grew out of it. And maybe I just like holding your hand, you never know.’
Sam gathered you in his arms and kissed your temple, ‘I like it when you do, it doesn’t really bother me, I was just curious.’
‘Okay follow up question.’ Sam continues.
Resting your chin on his chest, you smiled up at him, nodding in acknowledgement.
‘Who’s the kid in the picture, the one you always have in your wallet?’
Stepping out of his hold, you took your wallet out of your backpack, removing the photograph from its alotted space. ‘I can’t remember his name but he was my first best friend. I loved him but he made a promise that we would be friends forever and he left not long after that. Apparently I shouted at my parents and didn’t eat for a few days. I guess I just didn’t have the heart to throw it away. I still kinda love him in a weird way.’ You shrugged, barely recalling the events that happened when you were younger.
Without warning Sam grabbed the sides of your face in his large hands, pulling your face up to meet his as he forcefully kissed you.
Shocked, a squeal escaped and sounded through your throat, but once you realised that Sam was kissing you, you quickly responded, your lips moving against his before you pulled away to catch your lost breath.
‘Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?’
Putting space between the two of you, Sam stuck out his hand. You skeptically took it, encasing his with yours. ‘Hi, I’m Sam Winchester. I was your first best friend. And I think I love you too.’
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