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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

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Walk Away (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello!

Double Lizzie! All I will say is be prepared for chaos. Enjoy! :)

Summary: How will Y/n handle developing feelings for Wanda and an intricate history with Leigh? Will it all boil over on their birthday?

It was a mistake. It had to be. That’s the only way you could rationalize the invitation glaring obnoxiously back at you from the screen of your laptop. You pinched the bridge of your nose to ease the tension that had built from being in the situation.

As much as you wished you didn’t, you couldn’t help but feel the familiar sensation of irritation that began to crawl under your skin. It seemed that no matter how many times you played this game, you were always the one at the disadvantage.

Again, and again, and again.

The routine of her pushing you away and pulling you close was familiar, but you expected things to be different this time around. That was your own fault. You were foolish to think that anything would change.

The cycle would never end because you would never have the strength to break it.

Figuring there was nothing to lose, you pulled out your phone and dialed the number you had memorized years ago. It wasn’t like you expect her to answer anyway. She hadn’t since your night together and you were quite comfortable with her voicemail at this point.

“Hello?” The surprise of Leigh actually answering caused you to choke slightly. In an attempt to breathe through the fit, you began coughing. “If you’re choking you should’ve called 911, not me.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

You adored the woman, but nothing would’ve given you more satisfaction than to be able to flip her off in that moment.

With a final cough you rushed out a reply. There was no point in beating around the bush with formalities. She might hang up before you got to the point. “Was it a mistake?” The words clumsily tumbled from your lips without allowing your mind time to process how they may sound.

“Are you seriously-”

“The invitation to your party.” You clarified over the sound of Leigh’s response.

There was a brief pause. “Oh. That.” You furrowed your brows. “No, it wasn’t. You should come. I mean, if you want to come. I know it’s last minute.”

If Leigh wasn’t infamous for her brutal honesty you would have thought that was the opposite of what she wanted. “I’ll be there. I think it’s only fair since I missed your last one.”

Her last birthday must have been much harder than this one and the guilt that you left her alone for it still weighed heavily on your conscious.

An awkward silence hung tensely in the air. “Right. Well... See you then. Bye.”

“By-” A small frown tugged at the corners of your lips when the dial tone interrupted your parting. “Of course.” Leigh was always an enigma but lately you had been getting whiplash from the uncertainty of it all.

You couldn’t help but feel like you always seemed to lose a piece of yourself to her whenever you spoke.

There was one person who's conversations didn't come wrapped in barbed wire. One person who stole all your words away in the best way possible. Just the thought of her eased the tension that pressed heavily against your chest.

It was as if she knew you were thinking of her because your phone began ringing almost immediately after thoughts of her began to float through your mind. You couldn’t help but smile that appeared when you saw her name flash across your screen.

Your spirits had been lifted before you even heard her voice. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.”

A quiet hum drifted over the line and you could see her soft smile so vividly in your mind that it was almost as if she was there with you. “Is that so?” You hummed in response. “And what exactly was it that you were thinking about?”

Absentmindedly you began fiddling with a pen that was on your desk. “Oh, just that I kind of miss you, Maximoff.”

The sound of her laughter made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Only kind of? Guess I should ask them to extend my time over here until you fully miss me.”

You gasped in mock indignation. “Don’t you dare.”

“I kind of miss you too, Y/n.” She said softly, and the butterflies multiplied. “I was actually calling for a different reason though.”

Again, you gasped in mock indignation. “So, you mean to tell me you didn’t call just because you couldn’t bear to go another minute without hearing my voice?”

The laughter that floated down the line was even more boisterous than before which caused your own smile to grow. “That and I have a question.”

“I might have an answer.” You replied easily.

You could hear the sounds from where she was become louder, but she didn’t seem fazed by it. “Are you going to Leigh’s party tomorrow?”

The pen slipped from your grip. “Technically your party as well. Tomorrow is your birthday too.”

“Parties aren’t really my thing. It’s Leigh’s party.” There was a shyness to her words that you found so endearing. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You picked the pen up again. “I’ll be there. I wouldn't miss it. I wasn't around for her birthday last year and it was after she lost-” you stopped yourself, not sure of how much Wanda knew about Leigh’s life yet.

“Her husband.” Wanda finished quietly. You nodded even though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Why weren't you there last year?”

On reflex your fingers formed a fist around the pen. “It’s a long story. A story for when you’re not who knows where.”

You dreaded the day you’d have to explain the complicated web of history that you shared with Leigh. The thought alone filled your body with anxiety.

It was as though Wanda could sense your discomfort, as she changed the subject. “I’m pretty sure I told you where I was.”

“I’m positive you didn’t. Keeping up the mystery.” You teased lightly. “Will you be back in town in time for the party?” The obvious hope that slipped into your words made you bite back a groan. You hoped she didn’t think you were desperate as you sounded.

There was a bit more commotion coming from Wanda’s end. “I actually should be touching down right before Leigh’s party begins. I wasn’t sure if I should go or not.”

“You have to go. Please. Then I can give you your present on your actual birthday.”

For a moment there was silence. “You got me a present?” She asked quietly.

Again, you nodded even though she couldn’t see. “Of course I did. You’re- I- We’re friends.” You stuttered out nervously even though friends was the last thing you wanted to be with Wanda.

“Oh.” She mumbled and suddenly the commotion became even louder. “Hey, Y/n, I have to go, but I’ll be there. I can’t wait to see you.”

A small blush spread across your cheeks. “I can’t wait to see you either, Wanda. Safe travels.”

Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it was going to be.

_______________

From the sound of it, the party was in full swing and you couldn’t help but feel nerves build in your chest as you knocked hesitantly on the door. “Y/n!” Jules greeted happily as she ushered you into the home.

“Hi, Jules.” You mumbled, still feeling the residual embarrassment from the last time you saw her.

She nudged you playfully. “If you plan on sneaking out tonight after your extracurriculars with my sister, just make sure you plan ahead.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “That’s no-” But she had walked away before you could finish your sentence. Looks like that ran in the Shaw family.

With a sigh, you ambled out into the backyard where it seemed everyone was gathered. You didn’t see a point in lingering inside when the memory of the last time you’d been there was still so fresh in your mind.

It only took a moment, but you finally found Leigh by one of the tables speaking animatedly to one of her friends. Your heart dropped at the sight of her in that black dress. You almost wanted to turn around and leave rather than run the risk of saying something you know you shouldn’t.

When she looked like that you knew you probably would.

The opportunity disappeared when she looked up and met your eyes across the yard. You took a steadying breath and made your way over to her, listening to her excuse herself from the other person. “Hey. You look lovely.” You said with a small smile, hoping that even if it was just for a night, everything would be okay.

The storm in her eyes seemed more subdued. Maybe you’d be able to stay afloat. “Thank you, Y/n. You look… nice as well.” The small smile and compliment she returned nearly sent you into shock.

“Happy birthday.” You offered her the wrapped package timidly. You ignored the small tingles that arose on your skin from where her fingers brushed.

The intricate design on the front of the gift appeared as Leigh slowly tore away the wrapping paper. “Is this what I think it is?” She asked quietly as she turned the book over in her hands.

You nervously rubbed your forehead. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I just figured since In Time of Daffodils is your favorite poem, it’d be nice to have a first edition. Which, thinking back now, was kind of ridiculous since I’m sure you have a copy already and-”

Your rambling was brought to an abrupt halt when you felt Leigh’s arms wrap around your waist as she pulled you into a gentle embrace.

Despite everything in your mind telling you to leave, you couldn’t help but melt into her as your hands hovered tentatively over her waist. “Y/n. I love it. This might be one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone’s ever given me. I can't believe you remembered my favorite poem.”

The smile on your face was inevitable when she spoke to you like that. "Of course I remember." You mumbled softly. When she stayed in your arms, you allowed your hands rested lightly over the middle of her back.

You could feel your heartbeat racing in your chest when you felt her arms tighten around you.

“Hey, lovebirds. Break it up. You’re not in Leigh’s room yet.” Jules joked in passing as she made her way over to the snack table.

As if coming to her senses, Leigh abruptly stepped back and tossed the book on the table like it had burned her. The storm in her eyes was back in full force. You mentally cursed Jules. “I’m going to go mingle. Enjoy the party, Y/n.” Before you could say anything, she had rushed off.

All you could do was breathe out a heavy sigh as you rubbed a hand down your face. You looked around the party and recognized a few acquaintances, but no one you could actually talk to. They were all Leigh’s friends. Jules was your only other friend there, but you didn’t think you could handle the teasing.

With nothing else to do, you picked up the book Leigh had carelessly thrown aside and began reading. You just needed to pass the time until Wanda arrived.

You were lost in one of the poems in the book when you heard the volume of the white noise around you shift, almost like everyone began talking all at once. You decided to ignore it.

“Hi.” You heard a quiet voice say by your side.

That voice. The one that had begun to infiltrate your dreams. Your head shot up as your eyes met the sparkling emeralds before you. “Wanda.” You breathed out happily as you gently placed the book to the side.

She’s a dream that keeps coming back and I don’t think I ever want to wake up. You thought to yourself dazedly.

The corners of Wanda’s lips turned up in a genuine smile. A subtle hitch of her breath caught your attention. “Y/n.” Before you could even process what you were doing, you leaped in her arms. The sound of her surprised laughter filled the air around you as her arms pulled you closer.

“Happy birthday. I missed you.” You said into her shoulder, allowing yourself to relish in her touch.

In response Wanda buried her face in the crook of your neck, her lips lightly brushing your skin as she spoke. “I missed you too.” The warmth of her breath fanning across your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

I think this is happiness. Was the only thought in your mind as you remained wrapped in her embrace. You could feel Wanda shiver as her arms tightened around you.

Eventually Wanda pulled away and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness. “You look beautiful.” You said sincerely, allowing your thoughts to escape the confines of your mind for once.

Wanda ducked her head bashfully. “Thank you. You look quite beautiful yourself.” Your cheeks burned with her words.

Reaching into your jacket pocket you pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. “When I saw this, I couldn’t help but think of you.” You explained as you bashfully offered her the box which she shyly accepted.

You watched with bated breath as she opened the box and pulled out the dainty necklace with a small crescent moon attached to the chain. “It reminded me of the night we spent at your spot. When we looked at the stars.” You added after a moment of silence, feeling your nerves build the longer she went without saying a word.

“Y/n. It’s beautiful. I love it.” Wanda finally said as gaze shifted to meet yours. There were constellations in her eyes. Your heart thudded heavily against your chest at the sight. “Can you help me put it on?”

Wordlessly you took the necklace from her hand and moved to stand behind her. Your breath became heavy when she pushed her hair to the side. You clasped the necklace and quickly moved to stand in front of her again. “Beautiful.” She blushed.

The rest of the night was much easier to get through with Wanda by your side and the hours passed by in a blur. “So, what exactly is it you do?” You asked with a quirked brow. “I mean, I know you get sent crazy places, but you always avoid saying what you do exactly.”

Wanda shifted uncomfortably at the question which you didn’t understand. “Oh. I do humanitarian work.” She began to play with her fingers which you now knew was a nervous habit. “With a really obscure company.”

You could sense that she was desperate for you to drop the subject, you just didn’t understand why. “Okay, Wanda.” You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that she didn’t want to tell you whatever it was she was hiding.

There was a brief moment of silence. “You know, I hadn’t acknowledged my birthday since I lost Pietro. I expected this night to be so hard.” Wanda admitted suddenly, her eyes clouding over.

You took her hand in yours. “We celebrate him today too, Wanda. Even if he’s not here with you now. He’s here.” You pointed to the center of her chest with your free hand, “And here.” Your pointer finger lightly tapped her temple. “And he always will be.”

A shaky breath escaped her lips and your heart hurt for the woman before you. “I know. I miss him. Everyday. Especially on days like today.” You squeezed her hand lightly in comfort. “But being here with you made today a little easier.”

“I know there’s nothing I could say that could ever fix the hurt, but I’m here for you.” You told her quietly. “You deserve the world, Wanda.”

A small smile formed on her lips, “Thank you. Hopefully we’ll see it together.” Wanda’s eyes widened slightly as if she wasn’t meant to say that out loud. You heart fluttered.

Almost immediately she ducked her head, her hair falling gracefully in her face. You reached a hand out to gently brush away a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

Your hand lingered as your thumb lightly caressed her jaw. Wanda leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to kiss her. How can I be just friends with someone who I want to kiss? You thought to yourself as you became lost in her eyes. Wanda’s cheeks flushed as she raised her hand to rest over yours.

Her lips parted slightly, and your eyes were almost immediately drawn to the action. Your breathing became more ragged as you fought against every instinct to stop yourself from leaning in and feeling her soft lips against your own.

Am I dreaming or is she leaning in? You wondered in disbelief.

“Alright, sis! Time to sing happy birthday!” Leigh interrupted with a clap of her hands. Both you and Wanda sprung apart, matching blushes on each of your cheeks.

Your brow furrowed at the overdramatic smile on Leigh’s face. It was obviously fake and being fake was so out of character for her. “Looks like the spotlight is calling, birthday girl.” You whispered in Wanda’s ear with a playful smile.

A quiet laugh fell from her lips as she met your eyes. “Looks like it.” She bit her lip shyly. “To be continued?”

Your body vibrated with excitement. “To be continued.” You promised.

Leigh took Wanda by the hand and dragged her away just as she opened her mouth to respond. You could see Leigh’s jaw was clenched from where you stood.

A moment later everyone in the yard was singing to the two women and you couldn’t, for the life of you, tear your eyes away from Wanda and the way she shifted uncomfortably under the all attention she was receiving.

When her eyes met yours, her shoulders visibly relaxed and you played up the way you were singing in hopes of easing her discomfort. The smile that overcame her features made making a fool of yourself in front of all of Leigh’s snobby friends more than worth it.

As you were making your way over to Wanda after the cake had been distributed, you saw Leigh storms off out of the corner of your eye. You worriedly watched her disappear into the house.

“Hey, do you mind if I go check on Leigh? She looked upset.” You asked Wanda when you were finally stood in front of her.

Wanda shook her head with a small smile. “Not at all. I’ll go talk to Jules while I wait.”

You easily returned her smile. “I’ll be back.” You assured her as you turned to head inside, following the path you had seen just seen Leigh take.

When you walked into the kitchen you saw Leigh slam a bowl into the sink, the glass shattering on impact. Your eyes widened in concern. “Leigh!” Instead of answering, she took a plate and threw it into the sink as well, the shattered pieces mingling with the fragments of the bowl. You rushed over to her as she picked up another plate. “Leigh, stop.” You took her hands and gently pulled her away from the sink.

Her breathing was shallow, and her jaw remained clenched angrily, but no words left her lips. “Look, I know today is hard for you.” You began cautiously.

Leigh ripped her hands away from yours. “You don’t know anything.”

“Let me help.” The words bordered on pleading as you could see that all her defenses were up.

“I don’t need your help. You can’t do anything for me.”

Going against your better judgement, you continued. “I know you’re suffering, Leigh, and I know that you feel suffering is all you are but you’re more than that-”

Her words were so faint you could barely hear them. “Stop.”

“It can be a part of who you are, but don’t let the pain push away the people who care about you.”

“STOP!”

You recoiled in surprise, taking an involuntary step back. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help.”

Leigh pushed a frustrated hand through her hair. “Well you’re not helping! Stop trying to fix me!”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Leigh.” You insisted as you took a cautious step forward.

“You are though!” Her eyes were wide with fury.

The last thing you wanted was to make her feel like she needed to be fixed. You just wanted to help ease her pain. “I really wasn’t, Leigh. I was worried, and I wanted to see if there was something I could do to-”

“You’re pathetic! I just use you and you keep coming back.” A dark chuckle fell from her lips. You flinched. “I’m not yours! I was never yours and I will never be yours! I’m never going to want you back so just stop!”

There was a heavy silence in the air as Leigh’s chest heaved from the force of her words. It was a low blow and she knew it. You’ve had plenty of experience being burned by Leigh’s words, but this time felt different though. It was final. She finally said how she truly felt. You were done avoiding that.

You schooled your features and nodded slightly. “Okay. I’m sorry. Have a good rest of your night, Leigh. Happy birthday.”

Leigh was a hurricane, what more did you expect than to be caught in the downpour?

“Y/n-” You left before she could say another word, so you didn’t see the way her face dropped as tears welled in her eyes.

If Wanda wasn’t still there you would have left and never looked back, but you knew you couldn’t leave her without an explanation. In a useless attempt to gather your emotions, you paused before entering the backyard and took a deep breath, clearing your mind.

The sight of Wanda’s smile brought you a small sense of peace, but it couldn’t take away from the fact that your precariously healed wounds had been ripped open. Ashes within yourself had been set ablaze in anguish once again. You needed to tend to the flames on your own.

“Hey.” You softly called, your hand on her elbow. She turned from Jules who quietly excused herself. “I'm sorry, but I have to go. I’m not feeling well.”

Wanda’s brows furrowed, and her eyes filled with worry. You mentally cursed yourself because you knew she didn’t buy it. “Are you okay?”

You nodded in hopes of reassuring her, your lips quirking up halfheartedly. “I really am not feeling well.” Which wasn’t entirely a lie. “Do you maybe want to do something this week though?”

The worry never faded from her eyes as she nodded faintly. “That sounds great, Y/n.”

“Perfect. I’ll call you. Happy birthday, Wanda. I hope it was a good one.” You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, smiling slightly at the blush that was left in your wake.

Wanda began fidgeting with her fingers. “It was. Bye, Y/n.” She said shyly as you walked away. When you had disappeared out of view, Wanda turned to face the house. If something had happened with you, she figured she should check on Leigh. She was her sister after all.

When Wanda entered the kitchen, she found Leigh leaning against the counter, her face buried in her hands. Wanda knocked lightly on the wall to get her attention. “Hey, Leigh. Are you okay?’

Leigh’s head shot up, her posture relaxing slightly when she saw it was Wanda. “Why? What did Y/n say?”

Wanda blinked in surprise. “Nothing. I just wanted to check on you.”

A smile that didn’t reach her eyes formed on Leigh’s face. “Right. Well, I’m fine.”

“Okay, I just wanted to check.” Wanda eyed Leigh skeptically but didn’t push. “I think I’m going to head home, it’s been a long day. Thank you for inviting me. I had fun.” Leigh just nodded as Wanda began to exit the kitchen.

“Hey, Wanda?” Leigh called. Wanda stopped and turned to face Leigh, her eyebrows raised in question. “Look, we’re sisters now, right?”

Hesitantly Wanda nodded, unsure of where Leigh was going with her words. “Yes…”

Leigh shifted slightly. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course. What is it?” Wanda worriedly walked over to the other side of the counter, so she was face to face with Leigh.

There was a brief moment of silence before Leigh met Wanda’s eyes again. “I need you to stay away from Y/n.”

The surprise of the statement made Wanda laugh. Her laughter quickly faded away when she realized Leigh wasn’t joking. “You can’t be serious.”

Leigh rubbed at her temple, avoiding her twin's gaze. “I am. I need you to stay away from Y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” Wanda eventually replied, her head tilted slightly. Leigh’s eyes hardened when she met Wanda's determined stare.

And we have concluded part 3! Chaos has ensued. Thank you all so much for all the positive feedback this story has been getting! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much. Are we team Leigh or team Wanda? I would love to read your thoughts!

As always thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

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#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximov #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #leigh shaw #leigh shaw x reader

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

This isn't a request or anything but I had a soulmate AU idea that I think you'd like.... And reminded me of Oikawa. Imagine you find ur soulmate from their name written on your skin on ur 16/18 bday, but.... You're blind. And dating Oikawa. And he /swears/ your name is on his skin... But when your birthday rolls around, he insists you don't show anyone else.... And starts buying you clothes to cover the mark.... And you hear him whispering about his mark to Iwa.... And you begin to worry. 👀

I know it wasn’t specifically meant as a request, but I took the idea and ran with it - I hope it’s okay!! 💕

Oikawa Tooru x Female Reader

TW gaslighting, manipulation, dub con nsfw, blind reader

Part II

Always

“You promise me it’s there?”

Are you sure it’s me?

Rich, warm laughter fills the air around you, and despite the tension gnawing away in your stomach, the corners of your lips twitch into a soft smile.

“You don’t believe me!”

He’s happy. Even gasping in mock indignation Tooru can’t quite manage to keep it from his voice.

He has every reason to be; you’re both home for the first time in a year and a half, settled in the well worn couch at his parents house, your friends sprawled out either side of you. He’s twenty one today and as of five minutes ago the proud owner of his very own soulmate mark.

Or so he tells you.

“Well it’s not like I can see it,” you tease, nudging yourself closer so that you can rest your head against his shoulder and sighing loudly. “It could be Issei’s name for all I know, and you’re all just too nice to break the news to me.”

The choked snort from your left side makes you giggle, but not as much as the sound of your boyfriend fake gagging.

“Please, he fucking wishes!”

“Iwa tell her!” Oikawa demands, and you can just imagine the way that Iwaizumi’s eyes must roll before he ultimately gives in.

He always does.

“It’s yours,” he sighs. “Unfortunately you’re stuck with him, Y/N. My condolences.”

Yours.

It’s hard, even as raucous laughter fills the air around you and Oikawa turns to shout at his best friend, to deny the warm fluttering in your chest. The arm around you eases you closer, a thumb absentmindedly stroking at your side and you allow yourself to relax against him.

It’s your name on his skin. You’re his soulmate.

For the first time in weeks, it feels like you can breathe easy. You wonder if Oikawa knew, if he noticed the way you held onto him just that little bit tighter - like you were scared to let go.

You’ve loved Oikawa for as long as you can remember, but you only get one soulmate. Was it really so outlandish to wonder whether his first love would be his last? Whether you could ever be good enough to be his?

The little blind girl, always following at his heels.

For all your faults, you’ve never been naive. You know how amazing he is - Tooru has always been destined for great things and you were just his highschool sweetheart.

A hindrance, one of his very dedicated fans had once taken the time to inform you, clinging desperately to whatever scraps of pity he felt charitable enough to throw your way.

Neither one of you had realised that Oikawa had heard every damn word.

—

“Can you just…”

Oikawa pauses, the hand he has wrapped around yours squeezes lightly. “Hmm?”

Breathe deep. Just say it.

Tell him.

You’re almost at the gate, your flight’s leaving in twenty minutes (and you would have been there sooner if he hadn’t insisted on dragging you through every overpriced store in the damn airport) and in a few hours, you’ll be home again.

But it isn’t the thought of being back in Japan that worries you. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth, your heart thumping unsteadily in your chest. His birthday is in two days, and that’s when he’ll find out who his soulmate is supposed to be. And you trust him, you love him. Even if the name on his forearm isn't yours, it’s not like he’s just going to suddenly toss you aside like yesterday’s trash, but… things’ll change, you know they will. And you couldn’t even blame him for that, because how much effort can you really be expected to put into a relationship if you know they’re not the one you’re supposed to end up with?

The doubts you have, the ones that fester and play on your every insecurity, keeping you up at night long after Tooru has drifted off - you’ve tried to shut them out and ignore them as best you can, but you just can’t get on that plane without having some kind of reassurance.

What if it’s not you?

“Just promise me that if…” your breath catches in your throat, and you try to force a smile on your face even though you know that it wobbles. “If it’s not- if I’m not-”

Soft lips press against yours, cutting you off. It’s only for a heartbeat, enough to get you to stop the panicked tumble of words you couldn’t quite get out, but for you it feels like it lasts a lifetime. You could lose yourself in Oikawa’s kisses, you think. Lose yourself and be happy for it.

A warm palm cups your face. “I love you,” he says, and it isn’t the murmured declaration first thing in the morning, his voice still thick with sleep as he rolls over to kiss you good morning, and it isn’t the cheesy, throwaway line he gives whenever you save him the last bite of the milk bread that he specifically bought for you (because god knows his coach would kill him if he found out he ate the entire thing himself).

It’s a promise.

“You are my soulmate,” his thumb strokes along your cheekbone, and you can’t help but lean into the touch. “You’re the only one I’m ever going to want.”

Standing on the outskirts of your gate, moments away from boarding the plane that’ll take you both home, you’re not entirely sure if he’s trying to tell you that he’s certain that the name on his arm is going to be yours, or that he doesn’t care if it isn’t.

Either way, it’s enough.

“You’re mine,” he breathes, and captures your lips in another kiss - this one brimming with ardent devotion, a love too deep for either one of you to speak.

—

Hours later, Iwa, Makki and Mattsun are all asleep downstairs and it’s just Tooru and you curled up in his bed. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that being back in his childhood bedroom did little in the way of curbing his appetite, but between giggles and breathy moans, Oikawa’s hand clamped over your mouth and his lips at your ear-

‘Shhh, you have to keep it down, cutie. Unless you want the whole house to hear all the pretty sounds you make when you’re about to cum for me?’

- he manages to wring four orgasms out of you before the two of you collapse back against the mattress, all sweaty and panting.

And you think he’s fallen asleep now, an arm slung around your waist, his face buried against the nape of your neck despite the warmth of the balmy summer night. With his chest flush against your back, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart, lulling you gently to sleep with every beat.

Soulmate.

This, here, in Oikawa’s arms, this is where you belong, where you’ve always belonged. And yet even with happiness and relief and an overwhelming love singing through your veins - keeping you wide awake - you can’t deny that it feels… strange almost, knowing that out of seven and a half billion people, you’re the one he’s marked for.

He’d sounded so sure back at the airport, like there wasn’t even the possibility of doubt in his mind that you were the one for him. And maybe he was just saying it to calm you down and get your ass on the plane, but if the situations were reversed and it was your birthday first… could you really say with one hundred percent certainty that you knew it would be his name that’d show up on your arm?

You love him more than you’ve ever loved anybody else (more than you ever probably will love anybody else), it’s just that you’ve always known that the two of you were on wildly different paths. Tooru’s the starting setter for a pro volleyball team, and there’s already whispers of that national squad, Olympic selection.

He’s talented and driven and sometimes you wonder whether you ever would have left Miyagi let alone Japan at all if it hadn’t been for him dragging you along with him.

You’ve always been so content in your own little bubble. You cling to what’s comfortable, what you know - all your life, you’ve been told that you’re not defined by your disability, but you’ve never tried to push yourself beyond it.

With Tooru, you’ve never had to.

That girl, years ago - she wasn’t wrong. You do cling to him, like you’d clung to your friends and your family. And maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world, but when you compare what Oikawa has to offer his soulmate compared to what you bring to the table, and-

“I can hear you thinking from here,” your apparently not-so-asleep-after-all boyfriend murmurs in your ear. “Tell me what’s bothering my pretty girl.”

You sigh, rolling over to face him. It’s pointless to lie to Tooru - he can read you better than anyone else - but admitting the whole truth, even here under this little refuge of soft intimacy between the two of you, feels harder than it should be.

“You’re not… disappointed, are you?”

The harrumph that escapes his lips sounds almost offended, but the brush of his lips against the tip of your nose is sweet. “How long have I known you?” he asks.

Your forehead wrinkles at the question. “Fifteen or so years, I guess?”

You’d only been six or so when your family had moved in the house next door to his, across the street from Iwaizumi’s, and you can still vividly remember the first time you met him - crying in your front yard with a scraped up knee - always too eager for your own good.

“Hmm,” he acknowledges, “and how long have we been dating?”

“Seven-ish years?”

He chuckles, kissing you again, this time on your cheek. “And how long do you think I’ve been in love with you?”

Your whole face warms, and you fight the urge to bury it in his bare chest, especially when he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair that had fallen out of place back behind your ear. “Tooru-”

He sighs again, the sound tinged with just a hint of fond exasperation. “Give me your hand.”

You oblige, and you feel his long fingers curl around yours, tucking all of your fingers but your index away and drawing your hand closer towards him. It’s only when your pointer brushes against skin that you realise what he’s trying to do. Still, you don’t offer a word as Tooru slowly traces your finger along the dark letters on his skin - his soulmate mark.

Your name.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N. You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, just as I’m yours,” he vows, and you almost shiver with the intensity that burns in every word. “Any other name would have been nothing more than a filthy lie.”

Any further protests are swallowed up by another kiss, and your boyfriend takes it upon himself to show you exactly how much he adores you, over and over again, until sheer, utter exhaustion drags you to sleep in his arms.

—

Your own twenty-first birthday is a vastly different kind of affair. For one, the two of you decide to stay in Argentina - Oikawa’s mid season and can’t afford the time off training to traipse back home again.

Which means that it is just the two of you alone in your villa when you feel an odd burning sensation start to creep through your left arm. It doesn’t hurt exactly, more like a warm tingling sensation that flows along your skin as one by one the letters of your soulmate’s name come to light.

The sharp little gasp that slips from your lips must have alerted Tooru - hovering as he had been for the better part of the day - because his hands are on your arm within a moment, flipping it over and eagerly dragging it closer for him to inspect. His own breath hitches in his throat, his fingers tightening on your soft skin and a tentative smile works its way across your face.

People have told you before that your boyfriend is handsome - stupidly beautiful, you’d once overheard one of your old high school classmates bemoan. His voice certainly is, soft and pretty and lilting, warm like the first rays of the sun on a cool winter’s morning, though not without its sharpness. Oikawa always has had a wicked tongue. In your head, you picture a face to match, delicate, angular features, warm eyes and a grin that’s just a little impish. Trouble, but the irresistible kind.

You wish you could see it now, watch your soulmate’s eyes widen with delight, or maybe soften with quiet awe. You want to see him happy, deliriously so, you want to look into those lovely eyes of his and see all the love that’s coursing through your veins right now reflected right back at you.

He still hasn’t spoken a word.

The slow drag of a breath, shaky and too sharp, had your bright smile freezing on your face. His grip hasn’t relented, fingers calloused from years of playing volleyball digging into your arm almost painfully. The air between you two is still, he hasn’t moved, not so much as a twitch.

Unease creeps its way into your stomach.

Why hasn’t he said anything?

He’s never exactly been the strong, silent type, and you love him for that. Iwa often complains that his best friend likes the sound of his own voice too damn much (half heartedly at best), and maybe that’s true, but he never realised that it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

It’s different for you, not being able to see.

You don’t exactly blame them for not understanding - how could they, really? Without your sight to help you, your other senses have to work in overdrive just to make sense of things. Tooru’s voice builds the world around you, imbues it with a spark, guides you like a hand stretching out through the darkness. It’s a gap in the void, a reassurance you cling to - because without it there’s nothing. You’re alone with only your thoughts to keep you company.

So when he goes quiet like this, it’s never a good sign.

A lump lodges its way in your throat. Without your sight, his silence is almost impossible to read, but you can sense the sudden heaviness in the air, the tension hanging thick between the two of you.

You expected dramatics. Tears, maybe, or a burst of affectionate cuddles and kisses. Gushing over your mark just as he had when his own had come through. Hell, you thought he’d grab his phone and take a thousand and one pictures just to prove to the world that you were his as much as he was yours - because you loved each other. Because you were soulmates.

Is there something wrong with your mark?

“Tooru?” you murmur, the edges of your smile starting to slip as your panic rises. “I-is everything-”

“You’re mine.”

The clipped words are little more than a whisper, hoarse and choked. It takes you by surprise, making your heart skip a beat, the knot in your stomach tighten, yet just as that paralysing apprehension starts to take root, he clears his throat, and a laugh bubbles to the surface.

Slowly, like ice thawing, his fingers relax on your forearm, gliding up over your shoulder to curl around your neck. “You love me, right?”

Your eyebrows knit together, but you nod anyway. “Always.”

There’s another shaky breath, and suddenly his arms are wrapping around you, drawing you into a tight embrace. You don’t fight it, still bewildered by the sudden whiplash of his tone.

His own heart is racing, you can feel it as he holds you against him. The question burns deep inside of your chest, a thought you don’t want to give voice to, but you can’t seem to stop yourself - it slips out before you even realise you’ve opened your mouth.

“It is your name, Tooru, isn’t it? You’re my soulmate?”

There’s a beat of silence, and Oikawa hums, resting his chin against the top of your head. “Of course it is, cutie,” he chuckles. “Who else’s name would it be?”

He takes you out for dinner to celebrate. You’d originally picked one of his favourite dresses to wear, a strapless white number with a pretty, flowing skirt that fell to your mid thigh, but Oikawa stops you before you can leave, passing you over an old denim jacket of yours.

“It’s cool out tonight,” he says as he eases it over your shoulders before you can protest.

You don’t question it.

—

He fucks you that night, hard, fast and unrelenting, holding onto you so tight that you swear you’ll have bruises come morning.

—

Oikawa likes doing little things for you.

He likes it when you hold onto his arm and let him guide you around when you go out together (you do have a cane - it sits in the back of your closet for ‘emergency uses’ only). He likes to buy you pretty things, jewellery, clothes, little trinkets that remind him of you - spoiling you with every opportunity he can, doubly so now that he has a salary that affords him that luxury.

It’s not uncommon for him to pick out your outfits. For one, you can’t see so you kind of have to rely on somebody else’s help so you don’t end up a mismatched disaster, and Tooru seems to enjoy doing it. He likes seeing you wear the things he buys for you - lacy, soft and demure.

He also likes it when people know that you’re his.

So it doesn’t strike you as odd when Tooru insists on you wearing his club hoodie over your dress the next time you go to one of his games. You might not be able to see him fly across the court, but you can hear the cheers, the roar of the crowd as they stamp their feet and chant like a battle cry when San Juan scores. You can taste the excitement in the air, and whenever your soulmate steps up to the plate to serve, you feel the rabid excitement of the crowd thrumming in your veins.

It’s warm in the stadium with so many people crammed close together, you push the sleeves up without even thinking. It’s not an issue - it shouldn’t be - but when your boyfriend slips his arms around you, fresh from the locker room post match, it’s the first thing he notices. He’s tugging them back down before you can so much as offer a hello, tersely muttering something about you getting a cold when you frown.

There’s a tiny flicker of unease at the odd behaviour, but he’s kissing you before you can linger on it for too much longer.

And if that’s all it was, maybe it would be easier for you to shove that niggling worry aside.

But once you start noticing things - little, inconsequential things you would have just shrugged off before - you can’t seem to stop, and that tiny seed of doubt starts to take root, to sprout and grow.

Your friends stop calling by. Back home your social circle was pretty much limited to Tooru, Iwa and their friends - not that you minded at all, you love them all dearly, it’s just that you didn’t really have any friends of your own outside of that little group. When you moved across to Argentina and Oikawa started training for longer hours, dedicating himself wholeheartedly to his new team, you got lonely, sitting in your new home just waiting around for him to come back to you.

And it took a while, but eventually you started to venture outside of your comfort zone and lo and behold - even with your stumbling Spanish, you managed to make a few friends! Though you can tell that your beloved boyfriend wasn’t exactly thrilled by the burgeoning new friendships you gushed to him about, he’s never begrudged you them. If it made you happy, then he was happy.

Lately though, they’ve been kind of distant. And by distant, you mean… well, nonexistent. They don’t come visit you anymore, when you call their numbers, it just rings out.

You can’t even leave voicemails - there’s just an automated voice telling you their message banks are full. Regardless, not one of them has made the effort to call you back, and it’s not like you can text them to ask why they’re avoiding you. Life gets in the way, you know that, and sometimes people just drift apart but it’s like all of a sudden they’ve just dropped off the face of the planet.

But when you mention venturing out into town one day without them while Tooru’s at practice, he seems strangely resistant to the idea.

“I just don’t like the idea of you wandering around by yourself. It’s not safe out there for you, cutie,” he tells you.

The words are saccharine, as sweet as the kisses he presses against your lips when he coaxes your chin upwards. You love him, you do. And you understand that he worries - even away from the hustle and bustle of the big cities, San Juan isn’t exactly a crime free neighbourhood, but for the first time the strong, muscular arms that wrap around your waist don’t bring comfort.

It’s like they’re a cage, locked around you and dragging you slowly down to the depths, and it’s driving you mad because you can’t figure out why it feels like that.

Biting back your annoyance, you sigh, forcing yourself to relax against him. You love him - this is normal, couples disagree all the time. “I’m not an invalid, babe. I’ve done it before - I can’t just sit around the villa all day moping all alone or I’ll go crazy.”

He hums noncommittally, his fingers trailing idly across your skin as he draws you closer still, and the conversation is dropped.

Two days later, you find your cane snapped in two in the back of the closet. Oikawa has some weights stuffed in an old gym bag for when he can’t be bothered leaving home to work out - the bag must have fallen on your cane and cracked it when he put it back after his session yesterday afternoon.

An accident, it has to be. He’d never deliberately do something so petty, right?

And there are moments where you can forget the doubts that gnaw away at your insides. Tooru has always been a caring, attentive lover - the perfect boyfriend. He seems more determined that ever to shower you in love, whether that’s by waking you up with his tongue eagerly lapping at your cunt, bringing you home bouquets of fragrant flowers and cooking the two of you dinner, or just with the tiny gestures of affection - tucking your hair back away from your face, linking his hands with yours, the little kisses and compliments he lavishes you with on a daily basis.

When it’s just the two of you, lounging around on the couch, his head resting on your lap and your fingers carding through his hair, it’s easy to pretend that everything’s fine. The two of you love each other. You’ve been his rock, his biggest supporter right from the early days, and Tooru’s the one who drew you out of your shell, who makes you feel like you’re actually worth something.

That you’re beautiful, and loved.

It’s not until you come home one afternoon from an impromptu trip to the local bakery just down the road that all the little pieces fall into place, and you realise why.

The craving for something sweet was what drew you out. Truthfully, you hadn’t really thought twice about it. It was a short trip, one you’d made a thousand times before, and it wasn’t like the locals didn’t know you, wouldn’t watch out for you if they saw you about to unknowingly hurt yourself or trip over something.

The alfajores in your hand were supposed to be a surprise, Tooru had been wound up from practice lately, more stressed than he usually was this late in the season, and you knew you weren’t the only one with a wicked sweet tooth. You’d just wanted to cheer him up.

You hadn’t expected to come home to find Tooru pacing in your bedroom, muttering to himself, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to whirl around at the sound of your approach, snatching at your wrist and all but hauling you inside.

You certainly aren’t prepared for the snarling, bitter words he hurls at you.

And yet even as tears fill your eyes, a choked sob bursting free as he berates you for leaving the villa without telling him, Tooru clutches at you so tightly it feels like your arm’s going to snap.

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

He doesn’t stop, barely pauses for breath, but those eight words hit you like a freight train, and everything else fades out into white noise. You can’t for the life of you explain how or why, but in that moment, you know with absolute certainty that the name on your arm can’t be his.

Tooru lied to you.

He’s not your soulmate.

It’s all you can do to stand there numbly while your boyfriend falls to pieces in front of you. The angry yells and screams turn into wretched sobs, and suddenly it’s Tooru collapsing in your arms, clinging to your neck like it’s a lifeline as he sniffles against your chest, and when desperate apologies turn into desperate kisses and he starts to lead you backwards towards the bed, you don’t fight him.

He treats you like you’re made of glass, worshipping every inch of your skin, fervent declarations of love spilling out between kisses like prayers of the devout at an altar. He fucks you slowly, lovingly, moaning your name so sweetly as he searches for absolution within the plush walls of your sex.

And with his fingers coaxing at your clit, his lips dancing against yours you fall off that precipice with him.

You have no idea long the two of you lie there in silence, limbs entangled with one other, but eventually you register the warmth of his hand on your cheek, caressing it with a gentle kind of tenderness that makes something deep inside of you ache.

“You still love me, don’t you?” Tooru’s voice is quiet. Hesitant. It reminds you of the little boy you knew, the one who confided all his fears of never being good enough to you, desperately seeking the validation you always gave so freely.

Your eyes flutter shut, another stray tear spilling down your cheek, and your heart breaks anew.

“Always.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa #tw gaslighting #tw manipulation #tw dub con

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

hii! may i request soft yandere akaashi x fem! reader? she is smol, sweet, and innocent. akaashi loves her so much and act so soft towards her, but he secretly manipulate her and one day when they cuddle she asked him why he never let her hangout with her friends and why he never introduce her to his friends

sorry if it's too detail, you can add or change the scene if it's too hard. thankyou so much! have a nice day!^^

Thanks for your request, sorry it took a while! ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

It could have been perfect.

His arm around you, fingers drawing circles into your back. Akaashi smelled like the peachy soap you put into the bath, and his still-damp hair tickled your face when you nuzzled deeper into his shoulder. From the way that your legs were draped over his, his other hand tenderly squeezing out the tension from your shins, to the movie playing away on the big television in front of you, everything was so perfect.

You two had saved up for a bit over a year to afford a lovely city home. Akaashi had come with you to buy decorations, and you two would fetch late dinners on your way home with full IKEA bags. He always took the big and heavy ones from you, even if you complained. Last night, he asked you if you two should take the next step.

“Like a child?” you asked him, and he began to splutter, turning his face away. “Or a bird...” was his curt answer before he hid under the covers as you laughed loudly. But soon enough, even that joyful moment turned indifferent. When the lights were out and Akaashi asleep, the world seemed to slow down. Even if you were grateful for the pleasant life you had and the loving husband by your side, why was the feeling of everything being perfect so... so...

Boring?

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” you asked, filling your mouth with the popcorn that sat in a bowl on your lap.

“I’ll be working late,” he noted, giving your back soft, comforting pats. You didn’t really need him to comfort you. Working late wasn’t the end of the world for normal people. And normally, it wouldn’t be to you either.

“Ah, I see. No worries, I’ll be out with friends, so I will leave dinner in the fridge--”

Ah, you thought, feeling his hand grab your shin tightly. It’s about to be not so boring anymore.

“Which friends?” he asked, choking back the bothered undertone in his voice.

“You know, from college.” Your answer was dissatisfying, that much you could read from his face as you looked up at him, meeting his cold eyes. “Why them? You haven’t been in contact for a while. I thought you guys grew apart.”

“I thought so too, but they invited me out to drink.” Sighing, you pushed off his hand, still digging into your leg, pulling your limbs off his lap to sit properly beside him. The moment you set down the bowl of popcorn, you heard the television switch off, Akaashi taking a deep breath. Arguments weren’t so uncommon, even in a relationship as perfect as yours. Sometimes it were just the pickled vegetables he didn’t like, and sometimes it were the friends that Akaashi hated so much ever since you met him that would cause them. Either way, they were always awful for you.

“I haven’t seen them in a while! I’m excited!”

Honest emotions. That would do, right? If you were happy, so was he, right?

But he wasn’t.

Akaashi simply stared at you quietly, judging. He was scolding you with his silence, even though he wasn’t a big talker to begin with.

“You know I can’t stand them,” he snarled.

“But they are my friends, not yours.”

“It would be better if you didn’t see them.”

There was no reasoning with him when he was like that, you found. Akaashi would rather bite his tongue while arguing only his viewpoint than take up the truth he didn’t want to hear from you. There was no amount of ‘yes’ and ‘amen’ you could have plead to him that would have made him less aversed to saying ‘no’ to you in return.

“Why are you like this?” you whispered, genuinely feeling hurt. Everyone admired you for the strong bond you two shared. Your parents shed tears of joy at the wedding. Everything was so perfect, but why was it only perfect when you were unhappy?

“You never let me go out, and I haven’t even met any of your friends yet! What harm is there in spending time with my friends rather than twiddling my thumb while waiting for you to return here? What could possibly happen that would make it impossible for me to do something without you?!”

Silence. As always.

Sighing, Akaashi got up, and you felt a string of anger forming a knot in your stomach. No one liked arguments, not even you! But running from them wasn’t a solution. Running away from your partner’s feelings wasn’t something you could do when you chose to be together!

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered as he reached for the door handle to walk out, and you sprung up, almost beggings as you pleaded, “Then please tell me!”

You were sick and tired of being left alone and snubbed. If only there was a good reason for him to act the way he did, but by all that was holy to you, you couldn’t find it. Akaashi, however, did stop, taking another deep breath before pinching his nose. If he left now, you knew it would take days for you to reconcile, you two pouting and only pretending to be fine in front of your family to keep face. Eventually, you’d just forget and move on, but that too was something you were sick and tired of, always having to swallow what happened in favor of a happy home life.

“It’s just going out with friends for a drink...” you mumbled, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Say something! you wished quietly. Anything! Just don’t go.

“It’s just going out with friends now,” Akaashi sighed, turning around to face you. Again, you were met with this cold stare of his, making it impossible to read him. Was he angry? Probably, but you wouldn’t know just from his expression. “And then? What if they want to go to a club? Will you go with them?”

Furrowing your brows, you questioned what he was going at, but now that Akaashi suddenly began stalking back to you, you were overcome with a very different type of panic. He had never advanced towards you like this, with his footsteps echoing in the silent room loudly and his body appearing to be bigger than it was just from the tension in it.

“So what’s next? Are you going to let others leer at you? Have them grab your shoulder, grind up to you on the dancefloor? Are you going to let them ask you to go to a hotel with them?”

“What?! N-No!” you stammered, unable to believe what he was suggesting.

“How will you know? What about your friends? Did you check them? What are they doing? Who are they with? If one of them has a crush on you, are you going to allow them to confess it? Are you going to run our marriage into a ditch just because they invited you out for a drink?”

Akaashi really did manage to make you ask yourself twice if this was all your fault as you heard his arguments. He made you question if there was truth behind his words or if the feeling inside of you was just the paranoia that he created.

Your relationship was so perfect, except when it wasn’t.

“Of course not...” you whispered, standing still as he laid his hands on your shoulders. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, but you knew he was staring holes into you. All you wanted was to go out, to live a little. To experience and make memories, even if they didn’t include him. You didn’t think about these things, and you believed in yourself to not be unfaithful. But had this always been such a big concern in your relationship?

“I worry because I swore that we’d be together until death do us part! I care so much about you--I love you!” His assertion was barely meaningful to you now. After so much time at Akaashi’s side, you were sure that deep down, you loved him. You just didn’t love this perfect world you had with him. The ideal that he created.

Not, if perfect meant this.

“I’ll come home early tomorrow, and we can go to the cinema,” he tried to console you, fingers snaking under your chin to lift it. You barely returned the kiss he planted on your lips, ever-so-slightly averting your head from the affection. Akaashi paused, asserting your every move before pressing you for your answer. “Cancel your plans with them, okay?”

“Okay...” you mumbled unenthusiastically.

His touch lingered for a moment more before he finally pulled away, breathing out slowly before making his way to the kitchen. “Do you want some water?” he yelled back over his shoulder, but your answer never came. No amount of water or love could make up for how suppressed you felt by him and the conversation you just had. He loved you. He worried. It was always his feelings that mattered.

But what about you? Were your feelings irrelevant again?

Did it not matter that you felt like a caged bird by his side? That all the perfection made it truly suffocating? That everything had to be his way but never yours? He decided when you two went out and where. Akaashi was the one to put everything into motion, and you were glad if you could manage to surprise him with his present on his birthday. It was his schedule you followed, but he never asked if you were happy with how things were going. As if he didn’t care that you were bored and longing for more in life than just being by his side.

Your life could have been perfect. You two could have made it work and lived happily. But Akaashi didn’t want to work it out. He didn’t want to compromise or give you your own will. Instead, he chose to possess and monopolize you over true love and happiness.

And you were left to wonder for how long ‘perfect’ had actually just been ‘hell’.

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angryinternetduck · 3 years

Text

yellow & blue

[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).

The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.

If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.

The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.

It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.

As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.

Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.

The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.

Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.

Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.

Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.

Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.

He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.

One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.

He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.

Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.

It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.

No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.

Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.

Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.

Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.

The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.

It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.

Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.

Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.

“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.

“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”

You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”

You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.

Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”

He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.

Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.

You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.

He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.

That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.

An actual, real live angel.

An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.

Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.

He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.

Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -

"Hey.”

Harry freezes.

For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.

There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.

“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.

“You’re welcome.”

The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.

“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.

Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.

A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.

Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.

Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.

“That would be something, huh?” you say.

“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”

You smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.

“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.

You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.

“See ya.”

You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.

Again.

Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.

You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.

But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.

That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.

The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.

Harry should get back to his table.

He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.

The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.

Feather was taken off the setlist.

Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.

That was very strange.

Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.

He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.

Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.

He cried a lot that night.

When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.

At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.

Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.

It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.

Because really, nothing gold can stay.

Not even the gold of a yellow suit.

***

ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.

thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Shmi Skywalker #Mace Windu #Quinlan Vos #Shaak Ti #time travel #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #Phoenix Answers Asks #phoenix posts #Tusken Massacre #death mention #dehumanization mention #institutionalization tw #involuntary hold tw #sedation tw #involuntary sedation tw

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bakugohoex · 4 years

Note

CONGRATS ON 1K!!! For the event, could you do Bakugo with Fluff #4??? It just seems so much like him

“because i’m fucking in love with you”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: language, fluff, kissing

word count: 2500+

a/n: i have to write a levi oneshot now, bruh i might just go sleep, who knows what i’m going to do

summary: in which bakugo watches you get too close with another man and can’t help but let his anger take over seeing you with anybody other him

1k event masterlist

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Bakugo had many reasons to get angry on a warm summer day at the office. Being a pro hero had its ups and downs, the down being what was occurring today. Paperwork, he hated it with a passion, he loved the idea of fighting and defeating villains but the idea of writing it all up made his skin itch in disgust. Of course he had his sidekicks to help him, but they would never know the true extent of having to re-read over fights that occurred and signing it all off.

Bakugo still had other reasons that annoyed him, the weather had become broiling, his sidekicks were pissing him off and then there was you. You with your hero costume that looked tighter every time he saw it, you with the way you’d walk into a room and have everybody on your feet. You who had whipped him like a servant boy, he hated having to work alongside you. You had your own agency a couple blocks away from him, but ever since you both found out you took the same route. You’d come and annoyingly meet him throughout the day.

He hated it, and as he signed off on another report, his V neck not helping him at all, he heard the sounds of chatting from outside his office, that's when he saw it through the glass. The way you flaunted past the desks with your skimpy hero costume which he understood was for the best possible use of your quirk. But even then, it always cupped your body in just the right places.

You seemed to have been waving at one of the new sidekicks Bakugo had recruited. He hated it, pen almost breaking from his anger, he watched as you didn't bother to knock only cascade inside with the looks of others following your pristine body. “What?”

“How rude, Bakugo! Is that any way to greet your favourite pro hero.” You mocked falling onto the chair with a hefty sign, he watched at how you were clearly out of breath with the way your chest heaved harshly.

“Shut it, extra. What do you want?” He repeated.

You began playing with the stuff on his desk, he’d noticed how you always needed something in your hands and since he had always left a small jelly like plushie just for these moments. You happily put it in your hand pulling and stretching at it before looking up at him, “are you not coming for the patrol?”

“I got paperwork.” He signed as you saw the almost boxful of papers.

“No fair, I'll just go on my own then.” You were about to stand up when he stopped you.

“Get one of your sidekicks to go, idiot, help me with this.” He gestured to the paperwork that he knew wasn't the full extent as you both had decided to split it.

You gave another huff at him, “just because I’m organised doesn't mean i want to spend my Monday morning doing dreary paperwork.”

“I know you split it 70:30 so fucking help me.” He growled loudly making a shiver run down your spine.

“So needy, Bakugo, let me just call them.” You gesture to your phone as you walked outside his office. You leant against the glass door, Bakugo’s eyes fixed to the way your ass and thighs had been pushed against the wall. He licked his lips as he stared longley at your body before hearing your sign.

That's when he saw his new sidekick come up to you, of course he knew that the sidekick was only a couple years younger than the two of you. But he had a crush, the way his eyes lingered across your body, the way he passed you the coffee which you hadn’t even asked for. The way you laughed at his shitty joke, were you really flirting back with a man like that, Bakugo scowled before directing his eyes back to the paperwork.

“I’ll make sure to come for you when I need some coffee.” You laughed at the boy as you opened the glass door.

Bakugo heard the boy give a chuckle touching your arm as he let you go through the door. “Here do you want some?” You gestured to the coffee you had, noticing the empty coffee mug on the side of his desk.

“No.” Bakugo muttered but nevertheless took the coffee and drank a large gulp of it. “Why don’t you get your little coffee boy to bring more?”

He was pissed not only had you let his stupid sidekick touch you, but you’d made him feel special as if he had your attention. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” You chucked the cup in the bin, going over to the box where you grabbed some files out.

Bakugo didn’t make a remark instead letting you read over what had occurred and sign it off. “Bakugo.” You whispered halfway through your first file and already bored. “Bakugo.”

“What?” He questioned after he had seen you become more concentrated in the pen you held than the paperwork itself.

You stared at him with a bright smile, “we should get some lunch.”

“Y/n, it’s only half 10, it's a bit early for lunch.” He scowled, chucking the finished file into the complete pile.

“But I’m hungry.” You whined leaning against the cold desktop, it was white and probably made from marble, but it was the best bet of comfort you’d get from Bakugo’s office.

“Go get some food then.” He muttered as you stood up all giddy. “Get me something as well.”

“Now who’s the hungry one.” You mocked as you happily skipped out of his office, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and give a slight smile to you. But that’s when he saw his stupid sidekick come up to you. His face faulted, his smile turning downwards as he watched you both converse and leave to the elevator.

“You really don’t have to come.” You spoke stepping into the elevator, you hated how vulnerable you felt with Bakugo, how easily he could stare at you and make you go weak at the knees. He was perfect, an amazing pro hero who was ahead of you in the charts by the couple of numbers. You were almost grateful that your paths had crossed and that you spent patrols together, but his sidekicks were a whole other thing.

You knew the coffee boy had a crush; the whole department knew that. But how could you let a sweet boy down after all he did was such good things, how could you tell him you’d rather have his asshole of a boss than a sweetheart like him. “No, it’s fine, I was going that way anyway.”

“Oh why?” You questioned through the long elevator ride down.

“I had to buy some stuff for my sister's birthday and I'm on my break.” You nodded happily, not asking anymore through the uncomfortable silence as soon as the door dinged open, you both walked out, he had walked you to the bakery as you were craving a sandwich, he waited as you picked one you liked and one that Bakugo definitely likes. He didn't say a word until you spoke.

“What are you thinking of getting your sister?” You asked walking with him into the store selling gifts.

“What do you like, I mean girls like?” A heavy blush formed on his face as you began looking through the gifts.

“I’d probably go for that drinks set, it’s cute if she of course drinks that is.”

He quickly spoke to ease your gaze, “she does.” He instantly grabs it going to pay, you didn't question his rash decision and you both walked back to the building.

“I’m sure she’ll love it.” You smile out as you both step through the office again, Bakugo in an instant saw the two of you, bags in hand.

��I hope so, thank you Y/n.” He smiles putting his hand on your shoulder, he goes in for a hug which you happily give, he was clearly nervous for his sister's birthday. Bakugo watched intensively, surprised at the hug as he stormed out of the doors of his office on a mission to grab you and take you with him.

“Y/n.” He bellowed out.

You both retreated from the hug, staring at the angry blond, “Bakugo, i bought sandwiches.” You happily smile out, rummaging through the bag to show him it, “and cupcakes.”

His face fell, a smile erupting that he didn't know he was even capable of, you looked so happy showing him the cupcakes with the pink frosting on them. “Come on.” He whispered watching you come beside him, his arm on your back guiding you inside.

Bakugo guided you inside, watching you happily pull out the food, he saw how you moved the chair for visitors beside him making him move up. You were closer than he had expected, leaning across to grab the cupcakes and stuff one in your face. “You looked angry before?”

“I wasn't.” He muttered while taking a bite of the sandwich.

“Don’t lie to me, what’s up?” You began to play with his other hand, he hadn't expected it but the way your hands had just met his own, the way you skimmed his veins and the rings that embodied his fingers. It felt like heaven, but your eyes gave a sense of doubt and resistance.

“I...I just don’t like you spending time with that guy.” He spoke staring at you, your eyesight was on his hand still, the way you continued to play with his fingers before moving to the back of his hand.

You took a sharp breath before speaking to yourself, “is it because of his crush on me?”

“You know about that?”

“Of course I know Bakugo, I think everybody knows about it.” You whispered out softly.

“Is he your type?” Bakugo had gone against his words of jealousy, maybe if you admitted you liked coffee boy then he could move on more easily.

You finally looked up at the blond, his piercing red eyes giving a look of caution, “he should be.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugo moved his hand away from you, your unclear answer had made him a lot more pissed at the idea of you stringing both the men along.

“I...I just mean that he’s nice y’know and he should be my type, but he’s not.” Bakugo’s anger seemed to calm down as he gave you a softer look.

“Who is then?” Bakugo went to grab the cupcake you had bought for him ,taking a soft bite as the sweet frosting enchanted his mouth.

“You have frosting on your lips.” Bakugo went to lick it as you avoided his question entirely.

“Y/n, who’s your type?” Bakugo repeated staring at you, in an instant you stood up not wanting to confess anything else.

“I’m going to go see how my guys are doing.” You left him with no other word, he couldn't even stop you at how you almost ran away from the situation. Even if he had found out you didn't like the coffee boy you were now avoiding him which felt a lot worse.

Bakugo tried calling you but it went to miss call, he ended up finishing the rest of the paperwork and by the end of the day he knew you’d probably be hung up in your office, pushing yourself to do something other than talk to him. He began walking the short distance in the humid air, the sun was just about to set as he arrived at your agency. He always liked the vibe you had going on, even your sidekicks were okay, a lot better than his own. He was able to get inside with ease, walking the steps towards your office, he could see your shadow through the frosted glass.

You seemed to be pacing on the phone to someone, but he couldn’t tell who until he was just in ear shot. “I can’t tell him that, he’s going to think these months have just been me being selfish.”

Bakugo couldn’t hear the other line but it raised more questions in the boys mind instead. He was careful about being unseen until he heard you continue. “He’s a fucking idiot, how could someone like him ever love me, I’m nothing special.”

He heard another long sign from you at the response from the other side before hearing you say your farewells and begin to pace about the room. Bakugo softly knocked against the door, hearing a come in as he walked inside, your office being as pristine as ever. You were no longer wearing your hero costume, assuming you had been on a patrol yourself at the tiredness that set in your eyes.

He saw you as a normal civilian at this moment, so sweet and innocent but you gave a glare. “How long were you listening in for?”

“I...I wasn't.” He stuttered out.

“Bullshit, why the fuck were you listening into my private conversation?” You scowled again leaning against your desk.

Bakugo knew he was caught but in his idiocrasy decided to make the situation worse, “who’s the guy you’re talking about?”

“Why do you care?” You spoke stubbornly.

“Y/n, who’s the guy?” He repeated himself.

You faced the blond scowl on your face at his relentless pushing of an answer. “It’s nobody okay, I don’t even understand why you care so much?”

Bakugo’s anger rose at you hiding even more from him, how could he work alongside you if you were just going to keep him in the dark about some stupid guy that probably meant fuck all in the big picture. He knew this wasn't the true reason behind his anger though, he was jealous, some man you loved didn't love you back, and he was here with all his love to give.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you.” Bakugo shouted, the words spewing out without even realising. Bakugo’s eyes widened and so did your own, he looked at how your eyes had almost softened at the confession.

“You...You love me?” You questioned standing up to come closer to him.

“I’m not repeatin…”

You quickly interrupt him, your bodies almost touching as your hand moves to his face making him stare right back at you. “I love you too.” You softly whispered before closing the gap between the two of you. His hand moved to your face guiding the kiss as he had to bend down to even meet you.

It was filled with passion and drive from the countless nights you both spent together in each other's office, the morning patrols together and even the galas you attended together as friends. Everything you both had wanted from each other had come down from a singular kiss in a small office in the middle of Japan.

A small moan escaped your lips, his tongue gliding in with such ease as he toyed with your own, almost sucking the spit and saliva that was across your own tongue. He let go taking a harsh breath and he brought your face closer to his, foreheads touching as he gave the softest look he possibly could. You stayed in his arms, just staring at each other with such love and passion, both knowing nothing could break you both now.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows @admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes @gabrann

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mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

I would like to request! Can I request? Well I wish for you to consider what type of person/what kind of situation would cause the brothers to make a pact with someone. Maybe even what they would request in exchange? This can be before or after they met MC. With that out of the way, I totally binge read all of your works after my sister gushed to me about the True Form series, and just thank you??? It made me really happy reading them and it's always impressively detailed and well thought out.

Awww thank you! I’m glad it’s rave-worthy! I plan to add to it soon bc it was an absolute riot to write and research for lol

And wow this one is a toughie! I’ve actually never thought of what would make them want a pact! Hope ya like it!

Lucifer- Pact of Success

Absolutely the hardest brother to do business with, but that is probably a good thing. He is incredibly selfish with his contracts. Sure, they’ll benefit from his pact mark, but he will get the most out of it. Aside from MC he only takes requests for contracts from the human “elite”. They make wonderful feathers in his cap.

But also he takes some enjoyment in breaking them. They always get so cocky with his contracts thinking that they have him on the ropes and at their beck and call. It gives him a good chuckle, humans are so brazen considering their very short lifespan.

He destroys them slowly over time- all the little minutia he peppers in his legal bindings adds up. Not that his normal clientele ever read the fine print. But he designed it that way to make sure they don’t. All their requests are the same and so simplistic. Big boats, fancy cars, climbing the proverbial ladder faster than their friends or enemies - blah-blah-blah. At least the paperwork is easy to complete.

Very rarely does he find a contract he is excited to make. Those contracts are given to artists and craftsmen he sees potential in. He loves good art, and every artist should take pride in their work.

When it comes to the “price” of his pact it is worryingly simple. All he wants is some of their time. It sounds simple, and it is. Which is why it’s dangerous. The contract doesn’t specifically say how or the rules of it. How he takes your time is completely up to him.

Sometimes he simply comes for a drink and to ask how business is going. Or with the pacts he gives a damn about- he pops in to see progress on their artist visions or listen to their latest musings.

Other times if he grows tired of his pact holders’ ever-growing demands or ludicrous requests he comes and takes time right out of their lifespan. His visits leave them weak and fatigued though they can’t place why. He is a slow siphon of death and they are too foolhardy to notice. If he is feeling especially cruel, or sentimental he takes memories, things that a demon generally wouldn’t want.

Time with family, the first time they met the love of their life, a child’s birthday. He takes them all and leaves them with only a blurry recollection in his wake

When MC crosses his path though he is very apprehensive. He doesn’t want a pact or anything that could jeopardize Diavolo’s upcoming plans. But they make his skin itch with want. He doesn’t want them to be another trophy on his wall. He wants a mutually beneficial pact, one that almost leans in their favor and it grates him. Should/ when a pact is made he won’t use his powers on you as then he would have to take something in return. Instead, he takes his time and coaches them to be successful by their own right, though if he has to eliminate some obstacles- well they don’t need to know that.

Mammon- Pact of Riches

I love his man with all my heart, but even when he isn’t losing bets or getting tricked into pacts he still isn’t the most selective with who he conducts business with. He is the avatar of greed, after all. I guess it comes with the territory.

He scouts for already wealthy humans or people with a good head for numbers and is money smart. Some are too smart to deal with him, knowing that whatever monetary gain they are granted from him will backfire in the end (or their mama’s taught them not to make deals with strange demons). But a sucker is born every minute, and he has nothing but time on his hands.

His pacts are pretty simple and upfront. Sign on the dotted line and they get some of his wicked gamblers’ luck and more riches than one human life span could do much with. While he gets a glorified accountant and a nice percentage of their profits. It’s a win-win… for him.

See he forgets to mention that there are two sides to every coin, and his flip side is particularly detrimental to one’s health. He just so conveniently glosses over that his luck will wear out over time depending on how frequently the pact holder uses it.

But the hunger for more doesn’t. If anything that particular sensation grows into an all-consuming fire in the pit of their pitiful guts. It forces them back into the seedy basements or griming gambling halls. One more roll, one more stack of bills, just one more time and they will hit pay dirt surly! But the losses just keep coming. If one of his pact holders ends up face down in a ditch after one too many bad hands and uncontrollable greed… well ain’t nobody’s fault but their own.

He has a softer spot for humans that seek him out and treat him like a living being instead of some tool to be tossed around at will. It’s refreshing. He will actually take some care with these pacts and tell them to temper their use of his magic so they can get the most out of it in the long run. They still might run into misfortune and he is genuinely sorry for that but there is only so much he can do in the end.

With MC he doesn’t even tell them about what his pact can do or how to use it. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to his human. If they want something tell him he will do it himself no magic or pact summoning required. He wants to keep them happy and healthy for as long as his lifespan will allow.

If MC should find how to use his pact mark he will get pissed. Not so much at them but the situation in general. He’ll be upfront about the whole thing, judge him how they want but he refuses to let greed consume them too. He focuses a lot of time and energy on learning how to reel in his magic with them so they get some of the perks but none of the major downsides. Unlike with his other pacts where he lets it all just run wild (just means they use up their contact faster and he can move on to even bigger fish).

Leviathan- Pact of Wisdom and Skill

Surprisingly, despite his antisocial tendencies with “normies”, he gets around when it comes to contracts. Perhaps it’s jealousy at his other brothers or perhaps he finds collecting contracts a bit of a game on its own.

He has a small niche of people interested in his pacts. Pacts with him give people a strategic advantage in nearly any situation. Seemingly overnight his humans turn into near tactical geniuses. Because of that, he is very popular with military leaders and humans with dangerous careers.

He also makes mini contracts with foot soldiers and humans with dangerous oceanic jobs. They just want to make it out alive and he gets that. With contracts like these, he is more lenient and doesn’t ask for much. Make an offering of fancy food to Henry 2.0 or wait in line for a rare human figuring he wants. Wam-bam thank you ma’am kinda business.

This is completely different from his larger contracts. With the military contracts, he expects them to continue with their duties until they die in the field. Simple as that, he doesn’t mince words in his contract. It’s what he would do as General so he expects it from them. Should they try to define him he will get rid of them.

He takes delight in defiant contract holders. They think they are as clever as he is now. But they forget that they are using his magic. He could take his magic away right after they defy him sure...but he won’t. He lets them stew for a bit, thinking they have had the last laugh on envy. If they wish to play games with a General then he will make sure it’s good.

With MC he plays on easy mode, granting them insight and little touches of his magic during exam week or when playing a game against his brothers. He wants nothing in return from them but some quality hangout time.

Satan- The Pact of Retribution

As the only pure-blooded demon out of the seven, he does these pacts out of necessity like most other demons. While the others do it more so out of monetary gain and an obligation to the crown. Or if you’re Belphie, sheer enjoyment.

He does it because he hungers, it a hole in his very self that he is trying to fill. He hunts for one reason only- relief from his cardinal sin. He will never feel the calm after a storm of rage naturally. Patience and tranquility are the antitheses of his very creation. So he gets it artificially through his contracts.

He looks for the downtrodden, angry, and the most bitterly despondent humans he can find and gives them the chance to seek vengeance. He is very upfront with what his pact entails. Once the vengeance is complete his rage will consume them and they will become another soul for him to consume.

He isn’t cruel about the process or tries to trick a human into a mark. Very few of the ones he approaches turn him down even after hearing the details. It is possible that humans once shot to get even and he gets to feel bliss, to feel calm. He finds out that the longer or more obscure the plan for retribution is the sweeter the outcome is for Satan.

If he is feeling super ornery he will go after people affected by the outcomes of Lucifer’s pacts. They are easy prey and almost as wrathful as Satan himself. Bonus it aggravates Lucifer to no end when he has to go out of his way to clean up the mess Satan’s contract made of his own. Anything to piss him off makes Satan feel all the better.

With MC he doesn’t need to use his pact magic. Mostly because they are always around him in the Devildom, and no one is stupid enough to mess with someone Satan favors. If someone or something does irritate his MC he will take it out before it can fester into something his magic will try to latch onto. Keeping you calm and happy makes him feel almost tranquil as well.

Asmodeus- Pact of Gratification

Another very popular pact to try to get, and how could it not? He is fabulous~ But as much as people try to find him, he only goes for a certain type of contract. He has his perfectly manicured fingers on the pulse of the fashion and beauty industry.

His name is a whisper among the up and comers in the business. Many-while not looking for a pact - at least want to see him at least once. Many never will, they get cut from their agency or quit before they could get a foothold. It happens, and he hates to see it. Everyone deserves to feel gorgeous, or at least get a chance to be in the same room as him!

But for the ones the perceiver and climb the ranks get invited to one of his many parties. They can only get invited by someone wearing his mark. He trusts them to know who would be amenable to his contract.

His pact grants its bearer a glamor that can’t be broken by any meer mortal or mage. It makes them absolutely irresistible. How they wield that power is completely up to the user, he won’t judge or intervene.

Once they sign the contract all his holders see him frequently. He absolutely loves dropping in on their shoots or fancy dinners to say hi or get a recap on how they are fairing. Not because he is a nice demon or just super friendly (though they would like to think so). No, he just likes to watch.

His payment is slow, methodical and no one sees it happen until it is already complete. In exchange for beauty and the graduation of getting whatever their little hearts could as for he gets their ability to love, whether that be familiar or sexual. Asmo loves the feeling of being loved; he wants it in all ways possible.

Some pact holders don’t have an issue with this. They got their looks, a successful career, and people to manipulate to their heart’s content. Not having strong contentions with anyone works in their favor. But others don’t and while they search for him to try and get that little slice of humanity back he is long gone. He got what he wanted anyway.

MC is his darling. He can and will make a special contract just for them (reviewed by Lucifer). A beautiful new contract for a beautiful soul! He wants you as unchanged as possible because this MC is the one he fell for.

Beelzebub- Pact of Prowess

His pact is a very elusive one as he isn’t keen on going and looking for one. Beel isn’t a big fan of these trades, but he needs them every once and a while. Nothing is more filling than a contracted soul.

His trade is basic, make a pact and you get his strength. He, like Satan, is upfront about what his payment is and what side effects will plague them. He sees no reason to lie about it. The more they draw on his power the more the host's body gorges itself. Their bones will collapse in on themselves from the stress of it- the magic feeds on anything in the host bodies. It will deplete the iron in the blood, go after the calcium in the bones, sink its teeth in their muscle system.

It’s all rather gruesome and Beel does feel bad about it. He tells though who are still adamant about binding with him ways they can negate some of the side effects by taking supplements and augmenting their diets.

But it is like patching a deep cut with a bandaid, it just won’t work. His stomach is near bottomless- humans most certainly aren’t. They simply can’t eat enough to sustain their body like he can.

It surprises him that people still seek him out. To some, the pros outweigh that very huge cons. Some really do believe that they can find a loophole or find the right mix of medication to offset it.

He doesn’t get beaten up about it anymore but it gets on his nerves how obstinate humans can be about his very clear warnings. When his magic finally consumes them he takes both the body and soul back down with him and feasts on both.

With MC he keeps an eye out on them. Consistently checking in, making sure they don’t skip a meal, and join him at the gym often. He wants them to be strong and healthy enough to not ever want to use his pact. Though he does speculate that their angelic bloodline buffers both his and his brother’s magic a good bit.

Belphegor- Pact of the Visionary

Dreamers come in every shape and size and from different walks of life. But they are are all suckers to Belphie. He is known as the Lord of Decet for a reason.

He will promise them everything and anything their heart desires. That invention that will change the world? Done. A patent that is long overdue. Easy enough. A sudden rush of ingenuity to complete that nagging project. He is a devil of his word, it will be done. It- just won’t be done in the way they would want it.

See manipulating the physical realm is hard work. Like a lot of hard work. More than he would ever do for some stupid little human. It’s a lot easier to control outcomes in his realm.

The moment the contract is signed his hosts fall under his control and he takes it from there building a perfect little dream world for them to frolic in and believe they are getting what they want. He feeds off of them here, taking little sips from their energy and exploring these new fresh dream worlds. His dreamscapes get boring every once and a while, so having a new human under his influence is always refreshing.

While his humans thrive inside their minds their bodies waste away in bed as his magic draws them further and further into an endless sleep.

He doesn’t see anything wrong with his contracts. Who would argue with him that the dream realms aren’t real in their own sense? Did his humans not accomplish their goals in the end? He doesn’t think of the outside effects of his magic and pacts. Belphie really doesn’t care about what families he broke apart or lives he inadvertently affected.

MC is different to him though. He doesn’t keep them under his spell hardly ever (maybe if they are spending too much time with Dia or Lucifer. But he doesn’t push it with them.).He still walks into their dreams whenever he feels but he comes just to visit, not to change. He simply just enjoys keeping you company and relaxing in the little mini paradise you always seem to create in your dreams.

#obey me #request!#obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon

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secondbeatsongs · 3 years

Note

After reading your four posts I HAVE to know what your thoughts are for the adult/older audience (I forget which they said its gonna be) reboot and what could it mean for the plot with Sam's actress not returning

I have heard of this reboot, and honestly? no thoughts. head empty.

well. maybe a few thoughts...

I haven’t heard much about what the actual plot is going to be like, though I have heard rumors that Freddie is divorced and has a kid, and that bothers me in ways I can’t get past

like, of course I know that in real life, there are people who are divorced and/or have children by the age of...26?

(no, wait - Freddie’s birthday is Feb 4th, and if they’re sticking with a ‘94 birth year, he’d be 27. and yes, I know that off the top of my head; shut up)

anyway yes, there are actual real-life people who are divorced and/or have kids by 27, but I think it’s a really weird direction to take the plot with him. in the show, his ending just killed me, and I’d hate for him to have been unhappy (or mostly living with his mom!) for the past 9 years

when it comes to Sam’s actress not returning - I mean, good for her, honestly. I’ve read only a bit of what Jennette McCurdy went through during her acting career, and I’m happy that she got out and is doing her own thing now. like yes, I will miss Sam because she was a great character, but Jennette’s happiness is way more important!

also, jesus christ, people have been vicious about there being new characters? and I genuinely do not care. so what? lots of shows add new characters during a reboot/revival!

the amount of racism people were hurling at the actresses for the new characters is despicable. there’s no other way to process that - it was horrible, and nobody should ever attack people like that. I feel so bad for the new actresses! they don’t deserve this at all, and it’s horrifying.

now, all of that being said...uh. I don’t really expect much out of this show.

look, you know me - I loved the original iCarly, even though it was very stupid, had really questionable morals at times, and made almost no sense! I adore it, and it makes me happy.

so I will be watching the iCarly revival...but I don’t expect it to be as enjoyable (or anywhere near as enjoyable) as the original.

it’s not their fault - that’s just how revivals work! nothing is ever going to be as good as (or better than) the original show. it’s just impossible.

(I mean, I’m holding out hope that Leverage will be, but that’s it, y’know?)

I fully predict that the iCarly revival will be disappointing. I think it might be boring, or unfunny, or try too hard to be “relatable” to a generation that it lost touch with 9 years ago. I am prepared to heavily dislike it.

and even though the revival will technically be canon, I reserve the right to ignore it if I don’t like it. and if I ever post one of my iCarly fics that I’ve been poking at since 2017, I will take joy in tagging them as not canon compliant, because there’s no way I’d change my work to reflect whatever probably-dumb decisions the show is probably going to make.

anyway, there is a bright side to all of this: I will now get to continue thirsting over Jerry Trainor! he grew his hair out again, and it looks nice! :D

so like. even if the show is bad, at least there’s that!

#icarly #personal #icarly reboot #mexipika #i-ashhart #asks #not requests #yes I write fic #no I don't really post it #no you can't have my ao3 #but if I ever post my fics #they're gonna be masterpieces #and you will never be able to prove it was me #:)

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Gwyncien part 2

Do not fret there is also a bit of gwynriel in this too. I’ll be tagging people who asked for this specific part 2 below.

Lucien hated coming to the night courts winter solstice celebrations. The sole reason he went every year was because of Feyre's birthday, contrary to popular belief that it was to see his mate. He much preferred to avoid his mate instead of sit in a room with her and the Shadowsinger. But he suffered through it for his friend, potentially his only true friend. She had been better to Lucien than he ever had to her, so in a way he was trying to earn her forgiveness- even if she claimed to have already given it. He secretly hoped to see Gwyneth Berdara again this year. She was beautiful- much like he remembered her mother looking. However, he truly just liked talking to her, to someone who understood the pain of a disinterested mate. It was a nice perk that it also seemed to enrage the one male to have caught his own mate's attention. He felt a bit smug about that if he was honest with himself. His three gifts were tucked neatly at his side as he stared up at the mansion. Feyre created a beautiful house. He should not have expected anything less given her paintings. He needed a moment to gather his bearings after winnowing directly to the river house. He would stay for an acceptable amount of time, or at least enough time to make Feyre happy, and then he would depart. It always made his skin crawl to be around Elain, simply because he knew it displeased her. He could do this though-for Feyre.

"Are you going in? Or do you plan to stare at the door a little longer?" A giggle escaped from the female behind him. He turned quickly only to let out a breathy chuckle himself.

"Did you want a turn staring at it? We could do it together. Might make the evening more bearable somehow." Lucien sent the copper haired female a half grin which she returned with one of her own.

"You caught me. I was hoping to have my turn to avoid going in as long as possible, but alas it appears I may need to share." Gwyn gave a long sigh as if she were exasperated by the situation. The easy banter between the two started to loosen the knot that had formed in Lucien's chest.

"It's lovely to see you once more, priestess. You look beautiful." And she did. The last time he had seen her, she was wearing her priestess robes. This time around she wore a loose black dress. Her hair was mostly down with some braids keeping it out of her face and a dainty necklace around her neck. Some might say she looked rather plain. Lucien knew better than that. For her, this was a big step. To be dressed at a celebration in anything other than her robes had to be stressful. A magnificent smile lit up her face.

"You look rather handsome yourself. I was actually hoping to see you tonight. I wanted to discuss a few things." She looked around as though someone might be eavesdropping. "Not right now though." He had a feeling he knew what she wanted to discuss.

"My ears are yours whenever you need them." Lucien then offered his arm to her. She slipped her hand through the crook as they made their way through the door. The night suddenly seemed less daunting. He could face Elain and Azriel tonight without his emotions getting the better of him. Gwyneth would keep him busy that much he knew and was thankful for the unspoken deal they seemed to have made. They would stay by each other's side tonight if only because most of the night court's inner circle had paired off. Rhysand never truly left Feyre's side, Varian is the only one to actually enjoy Amren's company, Cassian and Nesta disappeared to have sex rather frequently, Emerie and Mor spoke in hushed whispers to each other most evenings Lucien attended, and most unfortunately Azriel and Elain never really left each other's side these days. Lucien normally felt like the odd one out, but without Gwyneth it would have been painfully obvious.

+++

The night had been rather overwhelming for Gwyn. She had been around the inner circle a handful of times most recently, but having so many dynamics in one living room felt stifling to her. Nesta's relationship with her sister's was still rocky at best, Amren usually said something to piss someone off, Azriel and Elain being around appeared to make everyone uncomfortable, and apparently Gwyn and Lucien being friends seemed to make the group just as uncomfortable. Gwyn could not figure out why. If perhaps the irony of the situation was too great or if Lucien's background had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, almost everyone tonight side-eyed Gwyn as she sat with Lucien. She knew Elain and Azriel thought she was doing it just to piss them off. Gwyn just truly enjoyed Lucien's company. He was easy-going and made many jokes. When Gwyn was not engrossed in conversation with Nesta or Emerie, she was joking with the one-eyed male. If only he had been her mate she had thought to herself.

"Present time!" Mor exclaimed from her spot on the couch next to Emerie. Gwyn felt herself becoming red- she had not realized that gifts were exchanged here. She had already exchanged gifts with Nesta and Emerie (a song for Nesta that was recorded on her music box from Cassian and a particularly steamy book for Emerie that included two female leads). She felt overwhelmed as everyone started setting gifts beside her. While Gwyn felt ready to leave the House of Wind, she had not managed to venture the streets of Velaris. She could have asked the House for gifts for everyone, but truly she did not even think anyone would get her something. The most surprising to her was when Lucien plopped a gift on her lap. She could not hide her shock.

"I am sorry. I did not get you anything." She felt ashamed and refused to look up from her hands as she addressed everyone. "I did not realize you all exchanged gifts. I am sorry." She repeated.

"We did not expect you too." Feyre sent her a small smile. "We got you something because we wanted too, not because we wanted something from you." The tension eased the slightest bit. That did not stop the red from flaming her face.

"I expected a gift." Lucien announced loudly. It had Gwyn cringing. "I demand you play us a song." Lucien was sending her a grin that released the rest of the tension in her chest. Azriel shot the pair an icy stare, not necessarily a glare, but close enough.

"Yes!" Nesta shouted after him, clearly having one too many sips of wine. Gwyn could not hold back her giggle. "You have to sing for us. Your voice is beautiful."

Gwyn could feel Azriel's stare from across the room. It had shifted into a less hostile look. It did not appear as though he was trying to hide his interest though. A conversation between the two suddenly popped into her head.

Do you, though? Sing?

Yes.

She wished now more than ever to hear him sing. She wanted to sing with him, but was not willing to put herself out there in front of everyone. He would likely say no and then she would have to scrape any piece of humility she had left to sing alone after rejection. She would not ask Azriel to sing with her- this time. She hesitantly sat at the piano, Nyx sitting by her feet watching intently. As soon as she started playing the toddler laughed and clapped his hands. It gave her the confidence to keep going. She sang one of the many songs she had memorized. There was really nothing special about it, but she felt alive especially with the way Azriel was staring at her. She could almost feel his shadows slipping towards her. She missed them. Actually, she missed everything about Azriel. Before the whole mating bond/Elain situation, they had been friends. He was one of her closest friends and she felt as though she lost that. It was not only her fault. He also felt uncomfortable being her friend now. It made her sad so she decided not to think on it anymore. She finished her song which resulted in a round of applause from everyone.

"Beautiful!" Emerie cheered with a wide smile on her face. Gwyn looked to Lucien who was smiling ear to ear which was rare for the male who only seemed to give half grins and sarcastic smiles. She finally looked at Azriel, who unfortunately was not sporting a smile, instead a rather intense look took over his face. A shadow reached out to caress her hand. It was so quick she questioned whether it even happened. No one else seemed to register it. After that, everyone continued to open their presents. She received a painting from Feyre of Gwyn cutting the ribbon for the first time. It honestly had the female tearing up. Cassian got her new Illyrian leathers that fit her much better while Mor bought her a butterfly knife which was a much better improvement from her birthday where she gave Gwyn a shampoo that never lost its smell. While everyone was distracted opening gifts, Gwyn decided now would be the best time to talk with Lucien, who had gotten her earrings the same color as her eyes. She signaled the male to follow her to the kitchen. They were surprisingly given little attention as they made their departure.

"I was thinking about your invitation," she started off. She leaned against the counter top with her arms folded in front of her. "I was thinking I could leave with you, and if you are willing, you could help me gather some intel with the band of exiles." Lucien seemed to mull it over as he stood next to her, their shoulders almost touching. He leaned against the counter tops as well while running a hand over his jaw. Gwyn waited with bated breathe.

"When?" Was all he answered. She could not read how he was feeling about the situation which had her feeling even more nervous.

"Uh, tonight?" It sounded like a question even to her ears. She figured she would never fully know when she was ready to leave until she actually tried it. Worse comes to worse and Lucien could just winnow her back to Velaris. No harm done.

"Have you told anyone of this?" He asked quietly.

"No. They wouldn't understand.” They probably would understand, but they would most likely try to stop her. She did not want that.

"You have to tell someone." He glanced at her before turning his body to be completely facing her with one hand on the counter.

"Why?"

"So they don’t think I kidnapped you." She found it hard to believe that anyone other than Nesta and potentially Azriel would think Lucien kidnapped her. Best to not have them looking for her though.

“Oh right. I’ll leave a note for Nesta and Emerie to find after we have left.” She did not particularly want to leave her sisters, but she needed to finish what was started in Sangravah. She could not possibly travel a world where any of those Hybern soldiers still lived. A goodbye note might convince herself to stay, but having Lucien here made it less likely for her to cower.

“Okay. We shall leave tonight. Gather whatever you want to take and I will winnow us away after.” He already started to walk away.

"Thank yo-" she began to say when a shadow darted into the kitchen. She immediately stopped speaking. She should have known he would be listening in.

"Mind if I steal Gwyn for a moment?" Azriel cut in, looking quickly between the two with narrowed eyes as if he was suspicious of the pair.

"Sure." Lucien drawled with a roll of his eyes. “I will see you later, Gwyneth.” He gave her a meaningful look and then he was confidently strolling back into the living room.

"Hey." Gwyn finally started the conversation after a few uncomfortable minutes of Azriel just staring at her.

"Hey." An awkward silence ensued after that. It left Gwyn confused. She thought he came in here to discuss something specific. She took the time to truly analyze him. She always thought he was beautiful, classically attractive like Elain. It made them quite the couple. She wished he wasn’t so handsome, it made their situation much more difficult for her. Perhaps if he was less attractive she could ignore the mate bond, she thought wryly. He looked tired, per usual, dark circles were more pronounced under his eyes which looked sadder than normal. He was tense as if he was preparing for a fight which made no sense to her. They had never truly fought, physically or verbally. She was just about to ask him what was wrong when he finally spoke up.

"What were you two talking about?" The question had Gwyn smiling wryly. As if his shadows hadn’t told him.

"Nothing." She refused to tell him even if he already knew. For some reason she felt if she told him, he would be upset with her. Another awkward silence lapsed.

"So I figured I could give you your gift now." Azriel glanced down at the small package in his hand that Gwyn only just noticed. His shadows were swirling all around him, exposing his cool composure for what it really was.

"I didn't get you anything." She only felt slightly guilty considering he was in an open relationship with the third Archeron sister while also being mated to her. She kept her eyes firmly planted on her own hands which were clasped tightly together in front of her.

"I don't deserve anything from you anyways." She hated hearing that from him. Even if he was being a royal asshole, she truly believed he deserved the world. Azriel shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair roughly before shoving the package towards her, stepping closer to her than he had been in awhile.

"Not true." She muttered as she delicately unwrapped the package. It was beautifully wrapped and part of her wanted to ask if he had Elain wrap it. Once opened, she spent a few minutes just staring at it. She was not quite sure how to respond to this.

"I know you said it does not bother you that your necklace was originally meant for Elain, but I wanted to give you one that was and will only be for you." There was a dozen or so stars in some sort of collection. She assumed it was a constellation but she did not know which one. It was beautiful she could admit, and knowing how much he enjoyed star gazing made her feel much closer to him than she should given his current relationship status. It felt almost inappropriate to accept, but she knew she could not deny him.

“What is it?”

“The constellation Andromeda.” He said so quietly it was almost a whisper. She was trying to remember if he had ever mentioned this one before but she honestly could not think of any reason why he might pick this specific constellation over another.

“Why this one?” She did not want to give him any reason to believe she cared as much as she did, however, curiosity was eating her alive.

“Her name means ruler of men.” Her heart squeezed. How unfair, she thought. He was allowed to give such a thoughtful gift, but she could not truly tell him how she felt about their current predicament.

"Thank you. It's beautiful." She wanted to say so much more, but was feeling tongue tied.

"Just like you." Was his immediate response. He said it almost like it was a reflex but it only upset her. Elain was in the next room over and he was sweet talking her.

"You cannot say that." She muttered a bit flustered.

"Sorry." He glanced down, appearing to notice how slim the space between them actually was. She felt suffocated by how close he was. The bond was yelling at her to touch him. His shadows seemed to want the same thing.

“Do not apologize. It just makes it harder for me when you say those things.” She realized this was the first time she had been alone with Azriel in a long time. She also realized she would not see him for a long time when she left with Lucien. It made her sad. These are the excuses she used to justify her next actions. She swears she never would have done this if she was not planning on leaving with Lucien tonight. Consequences be damned she thought. She quickly grabbed his face in her hands and brought her lips to his.

For the first time since the bond snapped into place, Gwyn felt tension ease from her shoulders. He was hesitant for only a second, letting out a groan and then they were off to the races. It’s as if they both knew this would be the last time they would get to do this. The kiss was rushed and heavy, passionate and wild. It was more than Gwyn could have ever dreamed. His hands were everywhere. Her hair, her face, her waist, and even lower. Gwyn let out a squeak when one of Azriel’s hands squeezed her backside. It did nothing to slow down the kiss, however. He was everywhere, even his shadows were caressing her. Her hands were not much better. They ran through his hair, tugging at the soft strands. Slowly, they traveled down- over his shoulders, finally resting on his waist to pull him even closer. There was much more tongue than Gwyn imagined. It surprised her even more at how much she liked it. How much further she would be willing to take it if they were alone. It was only when Azriel moved to work on her neck that she realized how much further their kiss went than the small peck she was expecting. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him stumbling back a few steps herself.

“I wanted to do that at least once. Sorry.” She felt the need to explain herself given that she practically just mauled him. His shadows were surprisingly calm for once, though his face was flushed bright red. It almost made her want to laugh at the idea that she made the Shadowsinger blush.

“Gwyn-“ he began but she did not want to hear anything he had to say, even if that was not quite fair.

“See you in training.” She tossed over her shoulder before fleeing quickly from the kitchen.

Fuck was the only thought pounding through her head.

#gwyncien #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #acosf #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #emerie #nesta archeron #morrigan #amren acotar

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years

Note

A very happy birthday month to you! I’m a fan of your Stony fics. If you’re still taking prompts, could you do one with a Las Vegas backdrop? Maybe Steve’s first time there with Tony for some reason? I was supposed to have my first trip there ever but Covid cancelled it. Maybe at least they can have a happy ending there. 🙂

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying the Stony fics!

So sorry your Las Vegas trip was cancelled, that’s really awful. I sort of went to Vegas once (it was a layover in the airport). The only thing I remember about the whole thing was the 5 bajillion slot machines in the airport terminals

Since I know so little about Vegas, I ended up going with the getting married in Vegas trope instead of something about the casinos. I also hope you don’t mind that I used this for my bingo square, but I saw the happy ending part in your ask and got inspired for my happily ever after square (details below the cut)

Here’s to Las Vegas

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Most days, Steve wakes up the second his alarm goes off, alert and ready for his run. This day, however, he drifts into wakefulness slowly, comfortably lying on his back. He’s warm and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach and chest, pressing him down into sheets that feel so much nicer on his bare skin than the ones he has at home. That’s the second thing he notices: he’s not wearing any clothes, not even the boxer-briefs he normally wears in lieu of pajamas. And the third thing he notices is that there’s something soft tickling his chin.

He slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s somewhere with high vaulted ceilings and an expensive-looking chandelier, which means it’s not Tony’s place (he thinks chandeliers are tacky) and it’s definitely not Steve’s (he can’t afford a chandelier). Whatever it is on his chest shifts and Steve looks down. Tony is draped across him, the top of his head tucked under Steve’s chin, their arms and legs tangled together. He’s breathing deep and even, still asleep even though sunlight is pouring through the window.

Steve smiles at the sight and raises his head enough to kiss Tony’s curls. He doesn’t often get to wake up with Tony. Steve lives in Brooklyn and Tony lives in Manhattan and they’re both so busy—Tony with SI’s R&D and Steve with his teaching—that they decided early on in their relationship that spending every single night together was a bad idea because one of them would always end up late to work. So this makes for a nice change.

Tony stirs, inhaling deeply. Steve brings his hand up to stroke over Tony’s hair, the way he likes it when they both have a rare day when neither of them have to be anywhere so they can spend the night. That’s when he sees it.

The ring.

The one that’s sitting on the ring finger of his left hand, exactly where it should be—except he’s not supposed to be wearing it for another week.

In the sleepy haze of waking up, he’d forgotten what they’d done last night but the memories are filtering in. Flashes of Tony excitedly talking him into finding a chapel and wrangling a couple witnesses from off the street and filing the marriage license a whole week early because both of them were more than tired of the wedding planning, the swell of emotions he’d felt at hearing Tony declared his husband and sweeping Tony off his feet and back to their hotel, kissing the whole way and probably scandalizing their Uber driver.

He groans and tips his head back against the pillows. Tony makes a low sound and yawns widely before slowly opening his eyes. He looks a little like an adorable kitten and Steve can’t resist kissing the top of his head again.

“Wuzzgoinon?” Tony mumbles sleepily.

“What’s going on,” Steve says, “is that your mother is going to kill us. No, she’s going to kill me, because you’re her darling angel who can do no wrong and she’s never once thought I’m good enough for you.”

“No, you’re better,” Tony says around another yawn. “Why is my mama going to kill you?”

Steve picks up Tony’s left hand and waves it in front of his face. Tony goes cross-eyed trying to make out what’s different about his hand. “Oh,” he says eventually and lays his head back down on Steve’s chest.

“Oh?” Steve asks. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“If Mama didn’t want us to elope, she shouldn’t have sent us to Vegas by ourselves to pick up the rings,” Tony says, as though he’s pointing out something reasonable, even though this is the most absurd thing that’s ever happened in Steve’s entire life—and his best friends are Bucky and Sam. Those two are the very definition of absurd. “Everyone knows what happens in Vegas.”

“This is your fault,” Steve informs him. “If you hadn’t insisted on this particular jeweler—”

“Hmm maybe I was planning this,” Tony hums, closing his eyes again.

And that’s… that’s actually entirely possible. Ever since they got engaged, Tony has been complaining about the big white wedding Mrs. Stark wants them to have and threatening to steal Steve away to the courthouse to elope. Steve had thought he’d calmed down about the whole affair after Mrs. Stark’s tearful outburst about her just wanting her baby to have the perfect wedding (Tony is nothing if not his mama’s boy), but maybe he’d been planning on this instead. He had thought it odd when Tony had insisted on a small-name jeweler in Las Vegas who wouldn’t ship to New York, thereby forcing them to travel to pick up the rings, but if Tony had been planning this all along…

“Did you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Tony stares up at him for a long moment, blinking. Then he dryly says, “Yes, Steve. I, who has never made a decision that wasn’t impulsive even once in my entire life, somehow managed to both plan out a trip to Vegas to get married and keep it a secret from the love of my life who knows everything I’m thinking before even I know it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve says, grinning at him. What they’ve just done hits him and he laughs giddily. He sits up, pulling Tony up with him to give him a closed-mouthed good morning kiss. “We’re married.”

Tony smiles happily and kisses him again. “Yeah, we are. Good morning, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

He likes the sound of that. He really likes the sound of that. Another kiss. “What are we going to tell everyone?” he asks.

“Hmm. How about we got so caught up in the thrill of picking up the rings that we abandoned all reason and got married here? It’s not like the big white wedding my mama wants even really matters in the grand scheme of things. It’s the marriage license that counts.”

“She’s still going to want it.”

“Undoubtedly. And we’ll give it to her. But this is nice, isn’t it?” Tony peers up at him anxiously. “No fuss, no caterers with ten different meal plans for all the restrictions, no Great-Auntie Mildred who shouts for the minister to speak louder. No stress at all.”

Steve leans back against the headboard, thinking about it. Tony’s right. They dealt with a lot less stress by getting married this way. But it isn’t just Great-Auntie Mildred that they left behind, it’s their friends too. It’s hard to know how he feels about that.

But then he starts thinking about the wedding picture the photographer had handed them before they left the chapel last night. Steve had tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping, and he reaches over to the bedside table to grab it, pulling the photo out so he can look at it. It’s a picture of their kiss. They’re holding onto each other so tight he’s not sure a piece of paper would fit between them, smiling so broadly that it’s barely a kiss at all. And he thinks about the engagement pictures Mrs. Stark had sent out in the announcement and wedding invitations: poised and perfect and not a smile to be seen anywhere.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, pulling Tony against his chest. Tony snuggles in, warm and beautiful and all Steve’s. “This was pretty damn perfect.”

Tony sighs contentedly and presses a kiss right over Steve’s heart. “Good.”

“But your mother’s still going to kill me.”

“We just won’t tell her,” Tony replies dismissively. “We’ll get married again and we won’t have to worry about the wedding because we’ll know we’re already married.”

“She’s going to notice the rings.”

“Not if we spend the whole week here.”

Steve stills. He hadn’t thought of that. It would solve a lot of problems, not least that Mrs. Stark would finally have free reign to do whatever she wanted with the wedding without any input from either of them. She was doing anyway, but at least now, they don’t have to hear about how their small family affair has turned into the society event of the year.

Tony continues in a wheedling voice, “Call out all our friends, treat it like an extended bachelor party—or our first honeymoon, take your pick.”

Steve stops him right there with another kiss, lingering this time. “And what are we going to do on our first honeymoon?”

“Blow all our money on slot machines. Count cards at the poker table. Go see some really truly ridiculous shows,” Tony says with a shrug. “What everyone does when they’re in Vegas.”

“Hmm somehow I don’t think counting cards is what everyone does.”

“I suppose everyone didn’t grow up with Ana Jarvis,” Tony muses. Steve laughs because it’s true. Howard might think that Tony is a troublemaker all on his own, but everyone knows that Tony learned it from the best.

He’s distracted out of his thoughts by Tony picking up his hand and gently kissing his wedding ring. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, darling,” Tony murmurs. “We can do whatever we want.”

Details for @tonystarkbingo

Title of Fill: Here's to Las Vegas Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676711 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship/Main Pairing: Stevetony Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Summary: The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him. Word Count: 1558

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #if you like please consider reblogging #mistyendings #tsbmiv

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genshin-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Celebration | Zhongli x Reader

Happy birthday, Zhongli💖

Length: 1.5k words

Summary: It’s Zhongli birthday and you just found out. Now you have to plan a celebration for him!

Zhongli had never celebrated his birthday, he never felt there was a need to. To put it simply, Zhongli didn’t care about small things like birthdays, but he still valued life and the big picture. Though birthdays weren’t something important to him, he did value them to an extent.

The thing was, he didn’t care about them enough to celebrate his own. In fact, you didn’t even know that his birthday was today! That was, until you heard from the grapevine. Instead of being upset, you were excited to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday.

The first thing you needed was a cake! Well… you could always bake one, but how well would that turn out considering the little time you had? So, you opted to buy a cake! Your friend Xiangling was a chef and she was also quite talented in making cakes- hopefully with normal ingredients.

Next, you would need a small place to set up the celebration. You still had yet to decide how many people you were inviting. But you were getting ahead of yourself. First, you needed to find Xiangling.

***

“Huh? A birthday cake for Zhongli? I mean I could, but it’ll take all day.” The chef informed you, making you frown. Well, it’s not her fault, you did come to her last minute.

“That’s alright! I’ll take anything you can come up with.” You laughed nervously, making Xiangling shake her head.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t have much to work with, but I know you can do it! I’ll make the food too! Have you decided how many people are going to be involved?” You sighed and shook your head, leaning on the counter behind you. You were preoccupied with other things to think of such details.

“I’m not sure yet. I mean, I haven’t even told Zhongli about me knowing of his birthday and setting all of this up.” Xiangling nodded with a knowing smile.

“Then, why not spend this day with him? Just the two of you. I’ll cook you up a nice meal, you two can spend the day together, and cut the cake at the end of the day!” That was actually a pretty good idea and maybe Zhongli would be more receptive if you, alone, were there to celebrate something he doesn’t consider important.

“Actually, that’s a great idea! I’ll do that! Thanks Xiangling, you’re amazing!” With that, you were out of there on the hunt for the next object on your list.

The location.

Zhongli’s place was nice and so was yours but you wanted somewhere else. Wangshu inn wouldn’t do, since it was a bit far and not as private as you wanted. Eventually, you decided on your own place. As simple as it was, it was the most convenient.

So, you quickly booked it back to your place and started setting it up. You didn’t have streamers or any sort of decorations so that was great, but you made due with what you could. The least you could do was have a clean house so that he would be just a little bit impressed. Not that you lived in a junk pile.

Once your house was clean and ready for Zhongli, you moved onto your last objective.

His present.

What could you get Zhongli? Sure, the man was always low on mora but there might be something he really liked. This seemed to be the hardest decision and you sat down on the couch to think about it.

What’s the one thing Zhongli really wanted? Food? Well that was already being made but no. Maybe money? No, Zhongli probably wouldn’t want your money. What about an object? Well, Zhongli didn’t seem to have any sentimental stuff nor did it seem like he was ready to stock up on some. Zhongli wasn’t attached to mundane items like that. So what? What could you possibly get your boyfriend that he would actually like?

The next two hours were spent thinking about that but you couldn’t come up with anything. Eventually, it was time to start setting up for dinner. Xiangling has arrived half an hour early with the food.

She insisted you let her set it up while you went to get Zhongli. This way, by the time everything was ready, Xiangling would slip away and the meal would still be warm enough to eat. Well, hopefully. She always had Guoba to set something on fire.

You agreed and quickly left, wanting to bring back your boyfriend as quickly as possible. The food was getting cold.

***

“Oh, (f/n). Hello, what brings you by?” Zhongli asked with a tilt of his head. You smiled and gave him a hug, which he happily returned.

“Are you busy? I need you to come with me.” Damn! You should’ve asked ahead of time in case he was. That could’ve ruined everything you’d done today and wasted all of Xiangling’ shard work. But Lady Luck must’ve been smiling down on you.

“Not at all, where are you taking me?” He asked with little resistance as you guided him away from his home and towards yours.

“You’ll see! I have a little surprise for you!” You said, cheerfully. Your attitude always brought him joy, a type he’d never experienced before. Zhongli cherished you and if he had to lose everything in the world to keep you, he’d do so in a heartbeat.

“Is that so? Well I look forward to seeing it.” Good, because you still had to tell him you found out about his birthday and chose to celebrate him without asking. Even though it was a kind gesture, there could have been negative memories tied to said event.

***

“A dinner?” Zhongli asked as he loomed at the table that was set so beautifully. You nodded and urged he sit down, which he did. You had told Xiangling about his favorite meal, which she was more than happy to make. You also hoped the cake was in the fridge or you’d be calling her back to ask where it was.

As dinner went on, you and Zhongli talked about anything and everything. You loved spending time with him, finding yourself always feeling safe and loved around him. Zhongli had a natural calming aura, so whenever you were anxious, you went to him and your stresses and anxiety would just melt away.

You and Zhongli had been together for well over three years now. Everyday with him was a gift and you treasured every last moment with him. Sure, there were days where you couldn’t see him, but the distance made your hearts grow fonder- as the saying went.

But it was time. You had to come clean and give him his cake, then confess you had no present for him.

“Everything ok, love?” You nodded before sighing.

“Look… I found out about your birthday. And that’s it’s today. This is our little celebration, I even have a cake! I… don’t know why you didn’t tell me, but I hope it was ok to do this.” Zhongli seemed stunned but the look soon melted into a soft smile.

“Oh? I’m sorry I didn’t, but I don’t find things such as birthday celebrations necessary. They’re rather menial to me. At least my own is. I appreciate you doing this, however. Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“W-well I have one more confession.” You said as you stood up and walked to the kitchen. The entire time you prayed the cake was inside. To your relief it was and you wasted no time bringing it out to the table. Zhongli looked over before nodding approvingly.

“This was the confession? You made me a cake?”

“Well no. Actually, Xiangling made the cake. And the food. I was busy setting things up- no. I actually couldn’t come up with an idea for a present. Every birthday should have a present. Unfortunately, I don’t know what you really want no matter how hard I thought. So, I… I failed.” You mumbled, lowering your head. You didn’t expect it to bring down your spirits this much. You could always make it up to him later and you knew that. Sadly, you still felt hurt over your own decision.

Zhongli smiled, taking your face in his hands and tilting your head to look up at him. His thumb stoked your cheek before he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“(F/n), your presence is my present. The fact that I got to spend tonight with you is more than enough for me. The only thing I could ever want in this world, I already have, and that is you. I cherish you more than anything so simply having you at my side is the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

Your lips curled into a smile and you sighed in relief. You leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight hug.

“I love you, Zhongli.”

“And I love you.” You looked up at him and leaned up to kiss his lips.

“Happy birthday.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin x gender neutral reader #zhongli imagines

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janetbrown711 · 4 years

Note

“I just really miss talking to you.” Wakko dot

A week had passed since the funeral, and the warner siblings could feel the ticking clock on when they expected their grandmother to strike everywhere they went. She hadn’t done anything in so long, it was highly suspicious.

However, there simply wasn’t anything they could do anymore. their parents were dead, simple as that. Whatever protection they had before had now evaporated into thin air-

Well, unless you were Yakko, who was determined now more than ever to be his sibling’s shield and protector from their grandmother. He swore an oath to himself he’d never let anything bad happen to either Wakko or Dot ever again- not if he had any say in it. He was their guardian now, simple as that.

The queen seemed to understand this somehow, as she summoned Yakko to the throne room for a private discussion. Regarding what, she wouldn’t say. Reluctantly, Yakko left his sibs alone in the playroom and met with his grandmother.

“Yakko,” she nodded at him, still wearing the veil.

“Grandmother,” He said coldly.

“A short temper will get you nowhere in life, even you ought to know that by now,” she shook her head disapprovingly.

“I’ve summonsed you to inform you that Angelina will be beginning her lessons with me by this time tomorrow, right after yours are finished,” The old queen said.

“What? But she isn’t even five yet, she’s not old enough for schooling,” Yakko protested. “And what about Wakko? You still haven’t started his tutoring and he’s eight, should he be your focus?”

“I don’t educate wild animals,” she brushed it off. “And as for Angelina being too young, that’s ridiculous. A lady is never too young to get some manners in her.”

“It’s only been a week since Mom and Dad-”

“Died, yes, I’ve been plenty patient,” She nodded to herself.

“Patient-?” Yakko stepped back in bewilderment at her self-assurity.

“Are you really questioning me?” She raised an eyebrow from behind the veil- or at least, Yakko assumed she did. With how thick it was impossible to tell, but it seemed something she’d do. Yakko shook his head.

“No, grandmother,” he looked at the ground.

“Head up, Yakko, you’re a prince for crying out loud,” she scolded, and he obeyed.

“So...?” he asked quietly. The queen sighed, annoyed.

“So Angelina begins her lessons tomorrow, and I expect you to make that known to her.” she declared.

“Right... okay,” He knew better than to fight with her any bit more than he already had.

“Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention: I’m separating yours and Wakkorotti’s rooms,” She said.

“Wh-what? Why? What harm does us sharing rooms do?” Yakko did his best to sound in control.

“Wakkorotti is a distraction for you and Angelina. It is my duty as queen to prepare you for the throne, and for her to become a lady, and part of that si separating you from the filth... though if you’d prefer I move him to the tower, that is an option I’m more than willing to take,” She smirked. Yakko growled.

“No, that’s fine,” he said.

“Good,” she smiled. “Run along then. I expect her to be there as soon as our lesson is over. No later, no earlier, understood?”

“Understood,” he nodded begrudgingly.

The moment Yakko was safe to tear his grandmother’s arms off, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Good. You are dismissed,” she waved her hand, and Yakko left the throne room.

So... great. Another thing for him to worry about.

Dot wasn’t even five yet, but now she was going to be exposed to her grandmother’s influences. Yakko just hoped she wouldn’t start acting like he did when he started taking lessons- he still couldn’t believe it took seeing her hit Wakko to snap him out of being a total jerk. Sure- he was only eight at the time, but still. It was bad.

He really hoped Dot would be different.

And Wakko... how on earth was he supposed to tell him that? It’d sound like Yakko didn’t want him anymore- which wasn’t good. Of course, he could always blame the queen- it was her fault really- but that could get him mad which he also doesn’t want.

Was this how his parents had felt 24/7? if so, Yakko felt really bad for them, all those times he insisted on knowing or just plain making problems worse.

A wave of numbness washed over him, and Yakko tried to suppress it as he entered the playroom once more.

“Yakko! We’re playing Dragon Princess,” Dot grinned up at him.

“Oh? And what’s that?” Yakko sat down on the floor next to them.

“It’s a game where you’re either a dragon or a princess, and if you guess wrong, the dragon eats your face,” Wakko grinned, showing him the doll. Yakko snorted.

“Sounds fun,” He chuckled.

“So... what did grandmum want?” Wakko asked cautiously. Yakko sighed.

“Dot, you’ll be beginning lessons with grandma tomorrow, right after my own end. And Wakko... you’re moving bedrooms.”

“What? Why?” both said in unison.

“Well... I started lessons with grandma when I was five,” Yakko decided to address Dot’s questions first.

“That’s not fair, Wakko doesn’t take lessons,” She frowned and crossed her arms.

“Yeah! Why don’t I get lessons?” he huffed and copied his sister’s motion.

“Wakko, you don’t even like her. Why would you want lessons?” Yakko pointed out.

“Well- I... uh...” Wakko came up blank.

“She’s mean, I don’t wanna,” Dot turned up her nose.

“Dot, you don’t have a choice,” Yakko said. “Bad things happen when we disobey her, remember?”

Dot paused at that, making eye contact with Wakko. She lowered her head.

“Okay...” she mumbled.

“What about me? Why do I have to move rooms?” Wakko frowned.

“It’s out of my control, Wak. I wish I could explain, but you know how she is...” Yakko sighed, figuring that was the best way he could explain without hurting Wakko further.

“But I like sharing a room with you...” Wakko’s tail twitched. “It’s a lot less lonely.”

“I know Wak, I like sharing a room too,” Yakko opened his arms, and Wakko hugged him. “But this just isn’t in our control... it’ll be better than the tower at least.”

Wakko nodded, and Dot looked even guiltier than before.

“That place sucks,” He said.

“I bet, from what I’ve heard,” Yakko patted his head.

“...I’ll miss you,” he sighed.

“Hey, it’s not like you’re moving across the country. You can still stop by my room any time- I’m even sure that if we’re extra careful and quiet, we could all organize a sleepover some time,” Yakko winked, and his sib’s faces lit up.

“That sounds faboo!” Wakko grinned.

“Yeah! That sounds fun,” Dot grinned too.

“Alright, alright, I hear you two,” Yakko chuckled. “I’ll figure out a time... hopefully when she most certainly wouldn’t notice...” he said that last part to himself mostly.

And so it was settled. Dot was to begin her lessons, and Wakko was to get a room of his own, a little bit away from Yakko and Dot’s. So far it wasn’t so bad... right?

A few months passed, and Dot began her lessons. It was pretty obvious that she had a strong distaste for them, but it was also very clear that despite being just shy of five, she still understood the consequences of her actions. Yakko couldn’t say he was happy at that though...

She wasn’t even five. She should have time to be a little kid, play wild games, and make mistakes, not bottle everything up in attempts to be the perfect princess their grandmother wanted her to be.

Yakko did his best to encourage her wild side, but he knew just how badly they’d get in trouble so despite desperately wanting to try and undo what she was trying, there was nothing they could really do.

This really sucked.

Yakko missed his parents tremendously when he thought like this, so he tried not to dwell. Instead, he focused on planning that sleepover for Dot’s fifth birthday, which he was actually looking forward to.

Though it’d be the first birthday they’d celebrate without their parents...

No... he shouldn’t focus on that. They were together, they were safe. This was a day of celebration- a day they were all going to sneak together and celebrate as much as they could. Plus, if he got one of the cooks to agree, he could even get him and his sibs a mini cake they could split, which would be fun.

And luckily he did. Quietly and carefully, he brought the dessert to his room and Wakko and Dot were thrilled. They sang, played a few games, and talked and talked and talked and talked. They didn’t have any presents to give her, but Dot was fine with just their company.

Truthfully, the lessons had done quite a bit to isolate the sibs, so being able to just hang out again felt really good- for all of them, despite what was weighing on their minds. It didn’t matter they didn’t really have much to discuss outside of lessons- they just missed being together that much.

“-It’s not all bad- I get to wear big skirts, and I get taught how to dance- like this!” Dot sprung up from her bed and began to waltz, and it wasn’t too shabby. At the mention of the lessons though, Wakko frowned and looked at the floor.

“That’s not too bad Dot,” he complimented her, and she beamed before running up onto the bed again.

“I think it’s stupid,” Wakko mumbled.

“Wakko, that’s rude,” Yakko frowned.

“It’s true,” He huffed.

“Dancing is quite the skill- I know for a fact that I’m a terrible dancer- grandma gave up on teaching me years ago,” he snorted. Wakko raised a knee and leaned against it.

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” Yakko frowned.

“I just... I wanna learn too,” he mumbled.

“But you hate-”

“I know I hate her, Yakko.” he snapped. “It’s just-... I miss talking to you two about things I know. You keep talkin’ about history and dancing or whatever... I wanna learn too.”

Wakko’s words hit Yakko like a slap in the face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you felt that way sooner Wak,” he apologized. Wakko shrugged.

“I just-... I know she thinks I’m stupid... a-and you keep telling me I’m not, a-and I want to believe I’m not, but... I don’t know things. She won’t give me a chance... even though I’d probably screw it up,” Wakko sighed.

“Wakko... you aren’t stupid, and you don’t need grandma to teach you to prove otherwise,” he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Still... it’d be nice... I can barely even read,” he muttered, and Yakko felt another wave of guilt.

He had forgotten Dad had been teaching Wakko to read while he was at his lessons before the attack, and that Wakko was slow, but eventually getting a grip. He should’ve remembered- he should’ve continued.

“I can teach you, if you want,” Yakko offered.

“Me too! We can help each other,” Dot grinned.

“R-really?” Wakko blinked.

“Of course, Wak, what are siblings for?” Yakko teased and poked him with his elbow, which made him laugh.

“And I can teach you other stuff too! Like waltzing and tea parties and manners- though that’s kinda boring...” Dot thought about it.

“I like tea parties,” Wakko said, and Dot grinned.

“Okay,” She said.

“And I’ll help teach you what I know- it can be our little secret,” Yakko winked at his sibs.

“Right. No telling Grandma,” Wakko did a ‘lips are sealed’ motion, and Dot copied.

And so it was decided, Yakko and Dot would try to give Wakko lessons of his own, with varying degrees of success. However, it brought the sibs closer together, and they hadn’t been caught yet, so for the first time in a little while, things felt... in control.

Not good by any means, but a routine had been formed, and nobody had gotten hurt yet, and Yakko was determined to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

#my fics #angelina 1 lives au #queen angelina i #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #feels #neglect #idk what to tag man- im tired

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

Birthday

Summary: could you do a hs losers x reader where the readers new to town and hates her bday bc each year her past friends and family had always forgotten or did nothing so when richie finds out her bdays coming up he tells the losers and they all plan a special surprise party and richie saves up and gets her something super special and the losers r all like wow he’s never gotten anyone anything like this b4 so she finds out that he likes her or something so it’s like the best bday she’s ever had

Richie bikes swiftly passed you, faster than he usually does, which can only mean he’s trying to surpass you. You barely refrain from flipping him the bird in public, as you too throw your weight into peddling. It’s no use, Richie is more athletic than you by a long shot, and he’s been practicing with Eddie for track. You’ll never be able to catch up with him with no viable effort.

‘You asshole,’ you yell out to him, noticing an elder woman pledging through her yard too late to stop your exclamation. She regards the both of you with malcontent, stabbing her hark too brutally in the soil of her allotment for it to be a coincidence.

‘Not my fault your short legs can’t reach the peddles.’

You growl, lifting up from your saddle to race faster, but Richie sees you do it and does nothing but laugh.

Any other time you might give him hell for it, but today, you are in no mood to indulge in Richie’s escapades.

It’s your birthday, and while for most that equalizes a fun day stacked with presents and cake, to you it stands for a day full of misery.

Your birthday is cursed. And no, that is not you being dramatic. At your ninth birthday, your cake got slammed into floor, therefor ruing the gift your parents had been working on for weeks, and which was their only present.

At age ten, you fell off your brand new bike into a ravine and had to go to the hospital to get eleven stitches. On your fourteenth birthday, you and your parents got into such a huge fight they send you up to your room and forbad you from sneaking down at any point in the day.

There are more examples to back up your claim for the terrible birthdays, but you have tried to desperately block them all out, so you won’t rehash them.

That’s why your so peeved that Richie is forcing you to the quarry.

‘If you could tell me where I’m supposed to be going to bet u could find a short cut and be there faster than you.’

‘Nice try Dora, I’m not telling you anything. It’s a surprise.’

‘Alright, I get two attempts. If I can’t guess where we’re going, I’ll do your homework for a week.’

‘And if you do guess it?’

‘Then you owe me a favor and no matter for what reason I cash it in, you don’t get to complain.’

‘Fine, bring it miss know it all.’ Richie slows down to slide next to you, the wind picking up as the two of you descend down the mountain. His smile is mischievous and cheeky, probably too confident to think you’ll be able to reckon the spot he has in mind.

If only he knew that you had limited the possibilities to two places, the exact amount of guess you were granted.

‘Hm, are we going to the arcade?’ Your first theory is. Richie doesn’t have anything on him right now, except pennies that have been rinkeling inside his pockets the entire bike ride, the only thing he needs to go to the arcade.

Richie smirks, and shakes his head. ‘Try one my dear, may I say that the odds aren’t in your favor right now?’

His impressive ego in the way he taunts you with the right answer fuels your desire to be right. ‘Are we going to the Barrens?’ You sing, smiling wide as Richie’s shrinks.

‘Eh, no?’ He says, but he sounds petulant. ‘Fuck this shit, what gave it away?’

‘A girl never reveals her secrets’, you say covertly, forgetting momentarily about the agitating day. You suspect that might have been Richie’s intention.

It’s not like the Barrens is such a stretch in the first place, the losers and you have made that place your own, but you do hypothesize that he may have planned something special for you.

Your theory turns out to be true, as you can spot a long table at the end of the dirt path you and Richie are currently riding on to get to the clubhouse. The table is stacked with a variety of candies, your favorite, drinks that are sweet enough to rot your teeth, something Richie should be more aware off - having a dad who is a dentist-, and a giant cake with eight candles on. Each one representing a loser.

You say nothing as you approach, in a sneaky way torturing Richie a bit more before revealing that you’re at the verge of tears of this nice gesture. Richie slows down his speed by dragging his shoes along the dirt, glances darting nervously towards your face.

‘I know you said no parties, but how else was I supposed to show off my rocking dance moves?’

‘Do you mean the moves you make that look like you’re dying?’ Stan chides, him and the rest of the losers rolling up behind you two. They’re all walking next to their bikes, and Bill’s hands are smudges with cake residue he somehow missed while cleaning up. They didn’t want to be here before you and ruin the ‘surprise’, but it’s clear everyone has worked hard to organize this for you.

‘Fuck you Stan the man, the color green doesn’t fit you.’

‘Happy’, Bev grounds out, leveling Richie with one look, the way only Bev can, and then address you. ‘Birthday.’ She hugs you despite you still holding your bike, and you let it clatter to the ground with a loud bang.

‘Thanks Bev.’

‘Happy Birthday’, the other losers also call out, because there’s just too many of them for each to wait their turn.

‘We hope you don’t mind we don’t have any presents, we spend basically all of it getting ingredients for the cake, which we had to redo- twice.’

They don’t offer any other explanation about why the cake had to be remade two times, but by Eddie’s scowl you can fill in the blanks.

‘No, honestly, this is already too much.’ It is too much, but their efforts are so kind and heartwarming that you have to bit back a happy squall. No one has ever bothered to organize anything for your birthday, whether it be purchasing a two dollar present or even ordering a cake, but these people that you had met less then a year ago were willing to scramble together all the money they could, just so they could turn your day special. Thank god for moving to Derry.

For the first time in years, your birthday has brought smiles and laughter, and no tears and weeping moods.

‘Nonsense my dearest young lady, this is but a blip on our radar, a speck of dust on the tv, nothing compared too-‘

‘Can we please cut the cake now? Before something else goes wrong with it?’ Eddie glowers, refuting to wait for an affirmative.

‘Don’t forget the candles,’ Ben says as he follows Eddie to the table. You’re about to join them, when a hand on your wrists stops you.

‘Hey, Y/N? You really don’t mind this right? I know you said you didn’t want anything but I know how nice it is be caught off guard with something like this.’ Richie rubs the back of his head as if that makes him see any less anxious. It’s incredible how smart someone can be while simultaneously also being so dense.

‘Richie’, you say as you smile, unable to hide it any longer. ‘It’s amazing, thank you so much. If there is any way I can repay you I’ll do that. I’m really happy with this.’

‘That’s good, not that I was worried about it, who isn’t a fan of everything I do?’

Rolling your eyes only spurs Richie on, but it’s become an automatic response now, you can’t help but do it.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I did get you another gift. Two actually, if you count my huge dong as one.’

‘Gross Richie, why do you always have to add something sexual to everything?’

‘It’s my game babe, love it or leave it. Anyway, here is the gift if you want it. If you don’t that’s fine too.’

‘Don’t get all shy on me now Rich’, you tease as your bump your arm into his while grabbing the package. ‘I’ve just gotten used to your antics.’

The package isn’t heavy, but it also isn’t light. It’s wrapped in enough layer that you can’t feel what’s inside of it just by holding it, but that was probably Richie’s intention. That or he is simply horrible at wrapping up.

While you carefully peel off each layer, you begin to speculate on what it could be. It could be a gag gift, but Richie looked sincere, and his eyes behind his glasses are magnified in true anticipation, a gag gift wouldn’t illicit that response.

As soon as the final layer is detached, you gasp, armored by the actual gift. It’s a blue bracelet, covered in butterfly pattering. You once mentioned having a similar one as a kid that you loved but lost one day while playing outside and had been sad about for weeks.

You can’t believe Richie had kept it in his mind, and had gone out to look for it.

‘Richie… I don’t even know what to say right now.’ You exclaim, squeezing the bracelet in your hand tightly, a blush covering your face. Richie’s mimics yours. ‘Thank you’, you say while reaching out to him and kissing him on the cheek. Richie face burns a brighter red.

‘Yeah… glad to be of service.’ His mind is ball parks away, and he is left dazed.

‘Come on Y/N, it’s time for you to blow out the candles.’

You go easily, letting your hand linger around Richie’s, deciding mentally that you’ll do it tonight before you go home. Your birthday has already been better than anything you could have imagined, and maybe it has one more miracle left to give. If Richie says yes to your question about going on a date, then this will truly have been the best birthday you have every had. By the love struck expression Richie is walking around with, you have an inkling as to what his response might be.

You blow out your candles, but you don’t need to make a wish. You already have everything you could possibly want.

----

‘Off course that asshole buys her a gift, but never returns the money I loaned him so long ago. I’m not a fucking bank.’

‘I think it’s cute.’

‘No, Eddie is right, I’m also waiting on my refund.’

‘It’s adorable he bought her something, he really can’t hide his crush anymore.’

#richie tozier #My writing #richie x reader #the losers x reader #it x reader #it imagines #richie tozier x reader

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