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sadprose-auroras · 1 year ago

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hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate

Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx

Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing

Word count: 3.7k

You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.

It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.

At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?

One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.

“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.

“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.

“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.

“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.

“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.

“Hm?”

“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.

“What is it?”

“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.

“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.

“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.

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Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.

Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.

“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.

“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“

Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.

“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”

“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.

“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.

“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”

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Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.

One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.

“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”

“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.

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The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.

“What happened?”

Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.

“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.

“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.

“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.

“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.

“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.

“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.

“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.

“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.

“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.

“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.

Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.

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The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.

morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3

You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.

Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx

After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.

Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.

“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.

“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.

“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.

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By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting. Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.

“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.

“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.

“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.

“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.

“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.

“You’re not mad?”

“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.

“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.

“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.

“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.

Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.

“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.

“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.

“You go,” you said.

“I didn’t know you liked me.”

“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.

“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”

“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“

“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.

“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms fanfic #hazel callahan smut

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darkcrowprincess · 7 months ago

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AU where Percy got pregnant by Luke and Poseidon decided for once not to be a slacker and offers Percy his help - he will hide the child in his possessions and protect him, she [a girl, too few original girl children] will be looked after by nymphs, and Percy will be able to visit his daughter whenever he wants.

Percy accepts the offer.

When Luke dies, Percy gently takes his hand and says, "This is a girl, her name is Amphibia Lucile Jackson-Castelli, she is the most wonderful child that ever existed and she is ours."

Luke with a smile on his face and regret that he would never meet her.

*warning I'm going to make this a little smutty, also sorry if i dont use all of your idea. It just sounds too tragic to me*

~Percy's wrists stings from being tied to the bed post. However, he enjoys the sting. It keeps him from completely floating away from all the pleasure he's feeling right now. His kissed brused mouth opens in a silent moan, as his body moves back and fourth across the bed. All from the force of the thrusts enetering him. Tears fill up in his ocean eyes, making his vision blurry. However, he can still see him hovering over him. For this one moment, his whole entire world is him. Blonde hair, golden skin. Sky blue eyes that dont ever leave his. And that scar. The red claw mark scar that stands out over his face. Luke is the only thing thats keeping him on the ground. Luke smirks at him, 'Percy.' Luke murmurs, like a siren song. It echos in Percy's head.~

Percy wakes up, Lukes voice still echoing in his head. For a few seconds, Percy lies still in a curled up fetal position on his bed, letting the memories from his dream flash like a movie inside his mind. He wants to stay in his memories for a little while, before the world comes crashing back in(he knows its useless). So for a few precious moments its just Percy and his memories, the moring light from his window keeping him warm. Just Percy and Luke.

Than hes hit with a queasy feeling in his stomach. Something thats been familiar to him for the past month. Percy covering his mouth, leaps from the safe haven of the bed and runs to the tiny bathroom. The white porcelain of the toilet is another thing hes been familiar with for the past month.

Puking is obviously gross, though imagine having to do it almost everyday for a month. Percy has honestly become numb to it. But not to the indication of what 'it' might mean. Percy does not want to think about it. But it's almost been a month and he has to at this point. As his head his getting reacquainted with the toliet, he feels his mom come up behind him and gently rub his back.

"We have contacted your father at this point Percy, you know that."

Percy in between dry heaving into the toilet nods his head. When he's finally finished (cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand) he looks at his mom. She looks back at him sadly. Percy is hit with the realization that history is repeating itself. His mother is a mirror of himself in this moment. Tears appearing in his ocean eyes( which he hates, but he can't help it). Percy says, "I didn't mean for this to happen mom. I didn't."

Saying that, he starts fully crying.

"Oh baby, I know. I know." She brings Percy into her arms, holding him close. Percy just keeps crying, his arm shielding his stomach.

******

"Who is the other father?"

"I'm not telling you that." The little sea prince says with defiance in his voice to his ocean god father.

The ocean god replies back, questioning, "Why not?!"

"Because they'll kill him. And I'm not having my kid lose another parent over all of their petty egos."

"So it is an enemy of the gods?" Poseidon questions.

Percy just glares up at his father. Silent yet defiant.

"That stubbornness. Definitely all from me." Poseidon tries to joke.

Percy finally snaps, his emotions are running high. He throws his hands up in anger. Which causes a big wave to crash angrily on the sands of Montauk beach.

"I don't care Dad! Will you help me?! Please." Percy sounds desperate. He has unshed tears in his eyes. Thats what finally hits Poseidon of the seriousness of the situation. He is a god yes. But also he realizes he's a father in this moment. And his son (his favorite son) is in a bit of trouble. His son is here begging for his fathers help. What else can he do for his and Sally's child.

Poseidon gently cups Percy's face, Percy leans into the touch. A tear spills out of Percy's eye. Percy face though is still filled with defiance and protective anger.

"Alright, I'll take care of it Percy. I'll take care of everything."

"She. It's a girl." Which finally causes Percy to smile. He places a smile on his stomach. His baggy clothes hiding the already forming bump.

"A girl? Well I'll definitely keep her safe." Poseidon says.

*********

Later than night back in his room, Percy can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. Between dreams of Luke's past, and others of just that night of him and Luke together. For Percy sleep is the last thing on his mind. Its raining hard outside. Luckily theres no thunder, so Zeus must be in a good mood.

'Or he's fighting some titians somewhere else.' Thinks Percy darkly.

This whole situation makes Percy moody. He just wishes things could be calm. Percy continues to mindlessly stare at the ceiling where his fish mobile hangs. His mother had found it on a trip to a flea market when he was little. He stubbornly kept it up ever since despite certain smelly assholes saying he was too young to be having that baby shit hanging up. Maybe when the baby's born. She'll like it too. Percy thinks as he lays a hand on his stomach. The bump still small but growing.

The music keeps his dark mood at bay. He's been listening to his playlist on his phone for over an hour. Ironically Luke made this playlist for him. Another song starts to play on his "my sea prince" playlist. It made him blush and laugh when Luke sent it to him, with a picture of a clownfish with a crown on its head. Benson Boone voice sings passionately in his ears.

And I hold you every night And that's a feeling I wanna get used to But there's no man as terrified As the man who stands to lose you Oh, I hope I don't lose you Mm Please stay I want you, I need you, oh God Don't take These beautiful things that I've got Please stay I want you, I need you, oh God Don't take These beautiful things that I've got

Percy who had closed his eyes to get lost in the music, hears a loud and persistent tapping on his window. It causes his eyes to go wide in fear. Not because it's an enemy or a monster. Because he has a pretty good guess who it is. Only one person who would risk coming to see him in the rain like this.

The tapping continues. Percy wants to run to the window. He also wants to pull the sheets over his head and hide. Unfortunately he can't ignore him. Percy really couldn't ever ignore him.

Pulling out his headphones, Percy looks to the window where the fire escape is. He sees a blonde head drenched in rain.

"Luke" Percy says. Luke can't hear him, but he can see him mouth his name back at him. He gets up and goes to the window. Doesn't even hesitate to open it, the rain blowing in right with Luke.

Luke who pushes his way into Percy's room. (Into Percy's life, his heart, and now his body. Percy thinks with a laugh.)

Luke drags Percy close.

"Where have you been Minow? You haven't been answering my calls."

"Doing stuff I can't talk to you about."

Luke nods because that was the agreement to their relationship. They both agreed. Anything having to do with the war, neither could ask. Fair is fair.

As Luke starts kissing him and pulling up his shirt, one his hands touches his stomach. Unknowingly touching his child. Luke doesn't notices his flinch. Just keep on kissing him.

'Thank the gods he doesn't notice.' If Luke does question it later, he can lie about gaining some weight. For now though he allows himself to get lost in the moment. He gets lost in looks touches. In his kisses, in him fucking Percy on his bed.

And later when after they're both spent, with Luke fast asleep. Percy will watch him. Will whisper quietly in his ear, while gently bringing his hand to his stomach.

Percy will say, "It's a girl and I'm naming her May."

#percy jackson #luke castellan #lukercy #perluke #percy jackon and the olympians #my writing #otp:doomed by the narrative🗡🌊#my thoughts #my art

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superblysubpar · 2 years ago

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Leather & Lace: Ch. 01

Leather and Lace Masterlist

A/N: I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve been holding this close to my heart & finally decided it was time to share it. Please see the masterlist for overall series warning, but this chapter is slow and simple - a touch angsty. Let me know what you think! And to my lovely ladies (you know who you are), I’m not sure what I did to deserve you all, but I’m so grateful for you. Thanks for making me laugh harder than I have in a long time & for talking me into sharing this (& more). Special thanks to @boomhauer for taking on the role of putting up with my excessive use of the word and, bad grammar, and tendency to over italicize - I owe you big time friend.

2.4k words

Side A | Track 01: “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman

There’s a reason there are so many songs about young love, lost innocence, fleeting moments, and growing up.

A reason those songs usually involved leaving someone behind or being the one who was left.

Several reasons that hundreds of people are able to connect to a lyric about watching that person or that town disappear in your rearview mirror as you vowed to never look back again.

The reasons, the songs, the people who relate to them, all center around one thing - small towns.

And small towns fucking suck.

The songs, the movies, the people - they want you to believe in small town America. They want you to think it’s peaceful, that it’s bliss. Not a single soul is unhappy - the town and all within it are thriving. You’re supposed to feel safe, enjoy knowing your neighbors, and learn how to bake pies to submit to county fairs like your mom did and her mom did. It’s all shoved down your throat from the minute you’re born in that ‘too big’ city hospital. Barely a day old and you’re already being told it’s better this way as you're shuffled back home to where you’re supposed to belong.

When you’re younger, you don’t understand it all yet. You like that everyone in your class knows each other and everyone gets invited to every birthday party. You like waving to your mailman at the grocery store and seeing your teacher at the movie theater. You love that all of the moms know each other and gossip, because that means when yours picks you up to go home after a sleepover you have at least another hour together while they all talk.

But as the years go by, it all starts to change. Suddenly, your class doesn’t like each other, you’re not all invited to the parties, people stop dressing up for Halloween because it’s not “cool” anymore. Your best friends start talking about boys, clothes aren’t just clothes - they’re a status, and liking certain music or movies makes you either a freak or a god.

Someone snaps their fingers and it’s a bloodbath to rise up in social status. There’s a hierarchy, a food chain, and it’s every man for himself. You start to see that it was all an illusion. The moms who you swore were the best of friends are the first to let you in on the secret of the false happiness of the town and its people.

Their long winded doorway and grocery store gossip filled conversations you once tuned out, now ring in your ears too loud. They fake smiles and pleasantries until one leaves the herd, the pack descending on them with nasty remarks and the first of many rumor fueled flames is lit. No longer the close friendships you once dreamed of having yourself, but relationships formed from gossip and jealousy and hate that their offspring seemed doomed to inherit.

Like a movie playing on the big screen, you watch it happen right before your eyes. Your once tight knit group of friends turning on each other for something as simple as eating a slice of pizza at lunch instead of a salad. They’re glossing lips and curling eyelashes, and talking about basketball player boyfriends. Plans for their futures suddenly centered around boys you’d grown up with, dreams of weddings, kids, and staying in that same town repeating it all over again with a new generation.

They've got to be shitting you, right?

You’re not an idiot though. You see how the people you once called friends are suddenly freaks - shunned by the kings and queens of the school. And you’re not proud of it, but you play along. You wear the outfits, the bright blue eyeshadow, you make fun of people who are slightly different from the status quo.

High School is a balance beam, a high wire, a jump out of an airplane but you don’t all have the parachute or net to catch you. It’s all a bunch of bullshit, a massive and giant labyrinth of contradictions and riddles designed to make you sink or swim. Lean or turn the wrong way one time, and it’s game over.

You can’t answer too many questions in class and look like a nerd, but obviously you have to keep up your grades because you can’t be seen as a slacker or dropout - what would people think? You can’t like art or band or theater too much, you can be an athlete but they’d prefer it if you just cheered for them. Be a good girl, get good grades, and dote on whatever king of Hawkins belongs to the letterman jacket you currently have slung around your shoulders.

And the school stuff isn’t even the worst part. The extracurriculars are where things started to get really complicated. Only the freaks, losers, and dropouts smoke weed and drink. Oh, but you’re not gonna have even a sip or one hit at the party? Who are you, Mother Theresea? You go to church, so you’re a saint, right? Only on her knees for Jesus? Boys will be lining up to see if they can make the angel dip into her sinful ways. Trapped on the receiving end of a double edged sword - a prude if you don’t do anything and a slut if you do.

You walk the line for four years, sticking to the status quo and you coast. Never in the background and never in the spotlight, miraculously making it through what’s supposedly the best years of your life fairly unscathed. It’s not all rainbows and perfectly pressed pleated skirts though, and you need out. You pack up what little you can consider truly your own possessions two days after graduation, ready to head towards the city. You’re going to watch that shitty little town disappear in your rearview mirror and you’re not going to look back, not even for a second.

Your “friends” think you've lost it. Your parents worry and remind you you can always come back. You hope your little brother is proud of you - he’s the only reason you do risk a glance in the rearview mirror. You see him standing in the driveway, waving a sad arm in the air, his misfit friends all standing by him. He'll be okay. He'll see how good you do outside of that town and maybe he'll be inspired and get out too.

Chicago is dirty, loud, fast and wonderful. It’s nothing like you thought it’d be and everything you dreamed about. You’re poor and surviving off of Seven-Eleven slurpees, but you’re living.

People are different in the city. Unique and vibrant and filled with life. They’re not settling for normalcy. They’re pushing themselves and boundaries. Told to be different and stand out - speak up instead of being seen and not heard.

School is completely different too. No one to tell you that you can’t like both an art class and a science class. A gift from the universe, you’re sure, when your assigned lab partner offers you a joint one day, where he casually offers up the information that his cousin is his dealer and his mom runs a local Sunday school - like that’s normal everywhere. And maybe it is, maybe the awful small town is ancient history. You embrace the new normal and you ask if his cousin can hook you up too and if the church has a choir you can join.

The next four years are long, and not at all perfect, but they’re your years and no one else’s. You’re writing your own story and figuring things out for yourself. Your parents and brother call and visit frequently and you manage to avoid returning home as much as possible - visits only extending for no more than two days, and staying put inside your childhood home. The happenstance lab partner talk ends you up in a job teaching at a local church when you’re not in class. Falling in love with the kids, you pursue a career in teaching, dreaming of a future where you’re helping to shape the minds of the next generations.

Graduation, your own apartment, a job teaching art to middle school - the dreams, the life you couldn’t have even imagined, unfolding before you like you’re living the best part of a movie. It all seems too good to be true.

And maybe it was.

Maybe it was some sort of childhood naivety clinging to you. Hopes and dreams were just that - and somehow you had gotten caught up in yours. You should have realized that life is not always a happy ending. It is filled with an immeasurable amount of curve balls, running uphill both ways, grief, and unexpected life altering moments. It’s unpredictable and unfair and ready to blindside you at a moment’s notice.

"Fuck!"

The loaf of bread you’ve been carrying falls into an icy puddle at the curb. You jump to grab it, but it's too late. A car rolls right over it, honking like it's your fault and you flip them off.

You know it’s stupid to cry over a loaf of bread, over a stranger honking at you, and besides, your tears will only freeze to your eyelashes. So you try to keep them at bay as you quickly walk the remaining block to your apartment, arms pulling your coat closer to ward off any harsh wind that manages to sneak through and chill your body.

You rip the pink past due notice from your door as you rush inside, dumping your bags on the floor and kick the excuse of a coffee table that's just a sheet over two cardboard boxes as you pass it. You don’t even bother turning on the lights because you know you couldn’t afford last month’s electricity bill, which means you certainly can’t afford this month’s.

You knew you weren't going to make it much longer and the tears you had managed to hold in now wet your lashes as they threatened to finally fall.

The shrill ring of your phone pulls you out of your self pity and wallowing. You knew it was your little brother, calling you at this time every Sunday night. You had managed to keep it all to yourself for almost six months, not having it in you to tell them all, to tell him that you had failed. That you needed to return home.

You knew it was time though and you picked it up on the last ring, "Hello?"

Your brother is screaming into the line and you start to panic, "What? What's going on?" Your mind starts racing back to a few years ago when all the crazy shit went down with the mall and the earthquake - your family luckily safe with you in Chicago for both events. Why they insisted on returning to that shitty town even after all of that was beyond you.

"I got into NYU!"

You fall back against your wall, the tears falling down your still thawing cheeks. A mixture of grieving the loss of your own innocence and celebration of his still thriving one. You clutch the phone tighter and wish you could hug him through it, wrapping the cord around your fingers you choke out, “I’m so proud of you buddy. That’s amazing. Congrats.”

He's breathless and laughing, "Will you come home to celebrate? Longer than the two days you had planned for Christmas? Please?"

You cradle the phone between your ear and neck and grab a spoon to get your dinner of peanut butter started.

You look up at the ceiling and try not to cry harder. You can’t tell him, but you have to. You take a deep breath as his voice falls to that wobble that only little brothers know. The one they perfect before their first words so they can hit you right where it hurts and make you swear to yourself to never let the sound leave their mouth again if you can help it.

"Y/N? Please?" he asks quietly.

You sniffle and form some sort of courage to tell him you’re a failure, "How ‘bout I do you one better and I come home for the rest of your senior year?"

"What?"

You rip it off like a bandaid that’s been left on too long, wincing through it as you blurt out, "I got laid off at the end of last year."

"But you're the art teacher! How can they just-"

You interrupt him before you start crying harder and he can go off on a rant, “Buddy, I know, listen, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it over some pizza while we watch The Breakfast Club, okay?”

He’s silent for what feels like forever when he finally asks, “Can we get pineapple on the pizza?”

You laugh through the remaining tears and nod, leaning your forehead against the wall, “You bet. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

When you hang up, you look around your dark apartment. The place that once was your oasis, your dream, now an expensive responsibility and weight on your shoulders. You’d sold most of your furniture already, and so you start packing your few remaining belongings that same night.

In the next two days you sell what you can, enough to barely make your final rent payment and you hand your landlord your key as the first snow of the year drifts down lazily around you. You turn and take one final polaroid of the city - wanting to remember it this way, before climbing into your rusting and falling apart car and closing your door on it all.

As you make the drive out of the city, your eyes fill with tears in the rearview mirror. It was never supposed to be like this. This wasn’t the town that was supposed to disappear in the mirror. These weren’t the people you were supposed to be leaving. As the wheels of the car take you further and further away, you turn the volume of your mixtape up as loud as it can go, drowning out the thoughts of your failures, your disappointments, your crushed dreams. You wipe the tears from your cheeks as you sing along loudly.

“...I got no plans, I ain’t going nowhere. So take your fast car and keep on driving. So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car - speed so fast I felt like I was drunk. City lights lay out before us and your arm felt nice wrapped round my shoulders. And I, I had a feeling that I belonged. I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone…”

🖤 Thanks again for being here - any interaction is so appreciated & I’d love to know what you thought about it! If you’re able, please consider reblogging to help get my work seen. tag list: @christalcake @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson series #strangerthings fanfic

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shaunsummers · 3 months ago

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Two Dykes Went Up to Georgia

"Hmph. You think I get tired of spending time with you?" Lilith knew what she meant but the repetition flew by with little acknowledgement. Sure, it was the same old hole in the wall time and time again; but it was nice on every occasion. Shaun, undoubtedly, had everything to do with that. With her, any casual outing or a night in provided charm and entertainment. Even something as simple as patio smoke breaks could turn into its own thing. "You're easy. I love that." She smiles, giving a little reassurance with the cup of Shaun's cheek.

The creeping warmth between them, however, failed to pass unnoticed; but Lilith kept her lips sealed of its existence. She wouldn't ruin the sweet moment. Not to mention an urge she couldn't fulfill. In time, sure enough, her want would return to baseline; but as for now, she couldn't even humor the thought. With all that had surrounded her life, the temptation of sex was little more than a memory.

"But you seem set on sweeping me off my feet. So, let's go." A gleam brings color to her eyes as she leaves her touch with a parting kiss into Shaun's hair, begrudgingly forgoing any effort to change her attire; she couldn't bring herself to let Shaun suffer what would surely be a long winded display of choice paralysis.

"You know, I could even collab with Lilith. If we combined all our dog shit exes, it'd be like a red flag data base. Scratch that, we'd need Siren, too; because, oh my fucking God, I could never. Imagine if we put all those red flags into an AI. It'd generate a super mega sentient fuck boy. Crazy but, you know what, you're right. Lucky me, I didn't end up in a trailer somewhere in the back end of Appalachia, with my hair in curlers, smoking Virginia Slims, and not knowing if that was one of my kids that screamed or a wendigo. Wouldn't that be a nightmare? I'd definitely be on coke in that scenario." In a brief moment of reflection, Robin casts a glance into the mirror with a sigh. It would be so nice, though, to have a special someone that wasn't a complete ass hat. Why was that so hard? She couldn't find the answer within, only a sudden craving for mimosas.

---------

What must've been a passive statement for Lilith, in contrast, gripped Shaun's chest with its warmth. It was difficult to take her eyes off of her, and maybe the comment on being 'easy' could've been taken poorly in another time, with another person, but it was the way Lilith looked at her that deflected her from sinking into any doubt. No one had ever really looked at her like that. At least, not that Shaun could remember. It was unnerving how pleasant it would be to do nothing at all but stay here, hold her, and be contented with it. On that front, she understood the meaning of Lilith's words.

"I do recall warning you about that." Helpless to her lure, Shaun saunters in behind her with a giddy smile as she scoops Lilith into her arms to take her off her feet, quite literally. "You look gorgeous, by the way." With a light laugh, Shaun gives into the temptation to steal one more kiss from her, beaming like a fool in the eagerness to escort her out and onward towards the plans she'd made. "Do you have everything you need? I packed a cooler in case we get food." And to keep the bottle of champagne she'd buried in the ice cool, but that was a later surprise.

"Coke? Probably meth." Quinn chortles at the vision of Robin as some trailer park octo-mom. It was hard to picture as any sort of reality, though. "Can't see it. You're too fuckin' weird to end up makin' Superbowl nachos for some douche-nozzle and 2.5 kids. He'd 'disappear on a hunting trip' way too fuckin' fast."

Twisting the cap back on the ointment, Quinn straightens with finality. "Finished up here, though...Wait, you think wendigos are real?"

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cretinous-creative · 2 years ago

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The Scientist and the Stranger [ch 2]

Viktor x Fem!reader

Summary: After days and (mostly) restless nights trying to figure out the hexcore, Viktor found a combination for a successful transmutation. Except it wasn’t, and now there’s a stranger in the lab. Now, passed out and in critical condition the stranger has to bring Viktor to the hospital.

Warnings: mention of vomiting (not detailed), and anxiously waiting in a hospital

I tried to proof read this as much as I can, so if there’s any mistakes that are unbearable please tell me. Constructive criticism and thoughts are welcome!

Even in the dark you can see a streak of red running down his nostril and onto the table. His breath is weak and sounds close to wheezing thanks to the awkward position you left him in. Wincing at your carelessness you hook your left arm with his right and cupped his left shoulder with your right hand. With surprising ease you straighten his posture, leaving his head dangling. You then gently weave your hands into his oily roots, tilting his face up to yours. Now, you have a better look.

Your breathing hitches in surprise of how he looks like a tired skeleton. His eye bags are not a feature to ignore much like his unique beauty marks. The dark eyelids are very reminiscent of your time in medical school, but is thrice concerning for the lack of bucal fat on his face and how cracked his are lips.

When was the last time he ate or drank?

You bring one of your hands to his carotid artery on his neck.

Weak. He needs a help.

You jump when hear doors squeak open to reveal a brown woman with a fluffy mass positioned behind her head. Her gasp echos in the lab. Her blurry figure freezes then retreats a bit.

“Who are you?” Her voice cracked a bit.

“Uhh, the janitor,” you try to say nonchalantly.

“This late? Who are you and what are doing to… Viktor?” His head falls from your grasp like a rag doll.

“Oh Janna, Viktor? Viktor? Wake up!” She dashs and pulls him from you, shaking him a bit.

“He desperately needs a hospital,” you take your chance to explain, “He’s too weak and overworked, and he needs your help.” Those last words grabs her attention.

“He needs…” she trails off, “I’ll get the security guard. Start I—I don’t know, uh.” You save her from blowing her fuse out, “I’ll start bringing him to the entrance.”

“Yes, good idea, save as much as we can,” she scampers off, her heels making that addictive clicking noise behind her.

Without a second to spare you put Hector against your back, latching onto his slender thighs, you push yourself against him and hike him up your back to piggyback him. You struggle with him a bit in your grasp but start your way to the hallway, trying to figure out who you met.

That lady—Sike, Skylar—god it’s on the tip of my tongue, she was the one who Hector killed? Wait, it’s Viktor. God why would it ever be Hector, such a old name—well that couple did name their kid Harry. The mom was too enthusiastic about it, something about her favorite singer or what ever.

Then it dawns on you.

“Shit, where’s the entrance?”

—————

Sky—that’s her name—eventually found a security guard and you a few moments before you started to trek down the wrong hallway.

Within moments you three were stuffed inside a car, speeding down the streets which gives you a new view of the city lights you were just seeing from the lab

On your way the car drives up incline, giving you a view of one magnificent building.

Hex—something, “Hexgates! They’re those hex gates!” You loudly whisper to yourself.

The blue bands roar and rotate until a spear slingshots out of the ring’s center, a satisfying process. A beautiful work of engineering and fantastical magic. A chill crawls your spine, the thought of that word makes your back visibly tremor.

I’m not suppose to be here.

Reality of your situation kicks in and you sudden feel as if doom has you in its air tight grasp. Your gut doesn’t like it either; your esophagus is already coating itself with saliva, and something is making its way up.

You fumble with the window crank, which does nothing. You resort to making desperate eye contact with Sky beside you. She only gives you a confused look until her eyes and mouth widen in alarm when you spill your lunch onto the space bellow.

—————

“I’m sorry you had deal with that,” you say hesitantly in the waiting room, unsure about the mood and how she feels about giving the driver a hefty tip. Sky doesn’t even twitch her eye towards you. She sits right beside you almost curling into herself with her mouth covered by her right hand and brows knitted together in deep thought. It’s just the two of you in the corner.

“It’s alright,” she finally responds, “I mean seeing some one pass out in front of me I’ll be in shock too. And… throw up. Oh gods,” her voice drops to a mumble.

You see her hand gripping the chair handles. She’s tense and needs comfort but the staff doesn’t pay any mind. What about you?

I don’t think I want to. You’re taken aback by the thought. You’re going to die soon right?

You stare at Sky who looks like a minute away from eating her hands to the bone.

You’re not real. This place isn’t…real. Isn’t it? It’s all from the show. It has to be in a dream. I can’t be staring at a dead woman. Am I in a coma? Was I hit by my head and now I’m dreaming?

“Who are you?” Sky suddenly speaks.

Well you didn’t expect that.

You choke a little bit but her gaze flutters somewhere else. “Jayce. Sir!” She calls out in relief.

Thank you Wonder Boy!

You sink into your seat a bit, really wishing you were with Viktor instead. At least the unconscious don’t ask any questions.

“Sky! Where is he?” He says immediately as he anxiously cradles his assistant shoulders. “The doctors took him, he’s in a room right now. “We’ve haven’t heard any news yet,” she replies, she picks his hands off her and hold them down in comfort.

“We?” Wonder boy’s gaze looks behind Sky, landing on you. He scans you from head to toe with a slightly puzzled expression.

He lowers his tone but barely his volume, “who is she?” Sky actually whispers something back. His face still remains puzzled. “Why were you in the lab?” The wonder boy—it’s Jayce—asks.

“Oh, I’m—uh—it’s a long story,” you respond in a panic.

“Just shorten it.”

“Ah, okay, long story short, I’m not actually the janitor.”

“So why were you in the lab with Viktor,” Sky pries.

“I’m an old friend.”

“How?” “In what way?” Their voices overlapped each others’.

“It was during his time at school,” you’re pulling words out of your ass.

“Which school?” Jayce presses.

“The one upstream? Y’know the fancy one,” you’re losing confidence and the two of them are getting a bit to close.

“I was a rich student who didn’t want anything to do any work and since he was so smart I payed him to do some homework, but I then, umm, what was the word? Guilty! I felt so guilty that he did so much of my work I offered to do some of his art assignments for him. He didn’t agree and yeah,” you blurted out badly. It’s a terrible lie. If someone said those same words to you would probably smack the back of their head.

Thankfully you had another card to play.

“Could you both maybe stop crowding me, it’s triggering my anxiety, and—and I don’t want to go through that,” you said as innocently and worrisome as possible.

They’re expressions soften as they take a step back. Manipulation 101, making others feel like they’re bad guys. Creating an escape route and time to come up with a better lie.

However, an older man with a fancy white coat approaches you three.

“Are you Jayce Talis?” The man asks.

Jayce whips around, “That’s me.”

“Oh it really is,” the assumed doctor amazes, “The patient is now in stable condition, but there are a few things I need to discuss with you privately.” The man’s feet slightly shift in discomfort and hand grazes his mouth a little bit. Signs of discomfort and a reminder of which act of the season you got yourself in. The lovely act three. Aka, everything is about to go batshit.

Jayce nods and hesitantly turns to Sky with a glance at what you assume is a clock on the wall based on the hands, “It’s late, you’ve done a lot for us already. So go home and get the rest you deserve.”

“But Jayce, sir please” Sky pleas.

Jayce shakes his head, “Sky you’ve done a lot for him already. I’m his emergency contact, so I’ll bring him home once he’s feeling better. No need to worry. We both know he’s just overworked and exhausted.”

Convincing assurances and half truths litter their talk, you drown it out. Just contemplating on where you should sleep tonight and betting on whether the police of this up state area are actually kind enough to let some rando litter their streets. By the end Jayce quickly manages to convince Sky to head home. Which she does with big sad eyes.

Before he departs with the doctor, Jayce gives you a lingering glance clearly unsure about you and suspicious about your intentions, then, finally, you’re left alone.

All by yourself.

You look at the clock on the wall, reading shit but it looks like it’s early in the morning. You smile pathetically, trying to hold everything together.

I wish I got LASIK.

#viktor #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #slow burn #i believe with how this is turning out #just making things up as I go #isekai #isekai reader #Viktor x Isekai!reader

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blueskittlesart · 2 years ago

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please do write an essay about wanderer one day i would love to read it <3

i love you. he is so <3 (essay under the cut because im crazy)

scara/wanderer/whatever you want to call him is so interesting to me because like. out of the train wreck that was inazuma, he managed to be one of the only well-written characters. and he wasn't even on the playable roster for that nation. incredible. why was inazuma so bad

in a way, his character actually functions to draw attention to a lot of the problems i personally have with the way ei/raiden and inazuma are written, namely that ei sucks and never sees a single consequence for her actions or even like. tries to fix her mistakes in any tangible way. Scaramouche was her prototype puppet, meant to be a test run for the eventual figurehead for inazuma which would run on unchangeable ideals while ei fucked off to her mind palace forever. he was not actually used for this purpose because ei saw him CRY and decided he wasn't fit to rule a country, and instead of like... idk doing anything RATIONAL with him she was just like ok. i'll let him sleep forever i guess. surely he will not wake up and resent me for this and turn evil. anyway. obviously he wakes up and realizes why mama ei abandoned him. he of course does not take this well. he internalizes the idea that his emotions made him weak and useless from. basically the moment of his conception. his emotional response is the reason he wass essentially abandoned by his mother. (to be fair, it's unclear if ei was aware that he retained consciousness, but still. throwing him out like trash because he had EMOTIONS was fucked up). this sets the stage for the way his mental state deteriorates over the course of the next couple hundred years.

so the poor kid has been abandoned by his mother for feeling things. bad start. but another important piece of this story is that, as per ei's original design for a puppet figurehead of inazuma, scara was essentially built to house her gnosis (essentially the heart of an archon.) since he never actually got used for that purpose, though, he feels as though he is missing a fundamental part of himself. as he wanders inazuma, he feels that lack of a heart harder and harder as he attempts to connect to humans and finds that he can't quite connect with them. (this is what i think of as his 'trying to be human' era) He struggles with the idea of mortality--specifically, a child that he befriends dies prematurely, and scara can't help but view it as a betrayal--"how could he break his promise and leave me behind?" he becomes acutely aware of the fact that he is not quite human and not quite god, but something in between--something that lacks the ability to feel like a human but was too emotional to fulfil its purpose as a god.

mortality and emotional response, to scara, become signs of weakness. he was discarded due to his emotionalness. his human friends' mortality took them from him. he grows to despise and reject both, which kickstarts his 'trying to be a god era,' which is how we've seen him in-game thus far. the thing is, he doesn't REALLY want to be a god. he wants to be loved. he wants validation and respect and family--everything that was taken away from him when ei threw him out, and when his human friends abandoned him. he tried it one way, tried playing pretend as a human, and only found more pain and suffering, so he decides to swing hard in the other direction, developing a superiority complex as a cover-up for his insane abandonment issues. No one can hurt a god. no one can abandon a god. no one can call a god weak. a god doesn't need friends or family or love because a god is all-powerful. he is convinced that if only he can attain true godhood--a gnosis, the item he was created to house, he will FINALLY be happy. and he decides that it doesn't matter how many people he has to hurt to do it.

(btw, throughout this entire time, ei has been in her mind palace being a deadbeat mom and deliberately ignoring the havoc her son is wreaking on the nation SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE RUNNING. he even sends a message of introduction to the raiden shogun at some point ("tell her my name is kunikuzushi") which i can only assume was meant to make it back to ei and maybe get her to CARE A LITTLE BIT ABOUT THE KID SHE BROKE but she either never recieved it because the raiden shogun sucks equally as hard as she does or she heard it and didn't care. ughhhh.)

anyway. obviously this little insane attempt at attaining godhood does not end well for scara. i cant rewatch that sumeru archon quest cutscene without losing all brain function but you know what i mean. he fucks up. his hubris is his downfall. his attempt to bury his emotions and his humanity in order to ascend to godhood give him far too much confidence, and he loses the battle. nahida takes the gnosis and then fucking immediately gives it back to dottore because she sucks. scara's final attempt at finding some sort of place for himself in the world fails spectacularly and leaves him mentally and physically destroyed.

and in 3.3 he is going to wake up and keep going. and i am so so so so excited. i want to know how he heals. I want to see him reconcile with his humanity and his emotions AND with his origins in godhood, and i think having nahida and the traveler help him do that is gonna be so good if they do it right. i LOVE that they're allowing him to still retain a lot of that selfishness and smugness and attitude that makes him compelling as a villain, while ALSO seemingly letting him reconnect with his humanity and become better. i do still hope he gets to beat the shit out of ei tho

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chidoroki · 2 years ago

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182 Days of TPN: Day 32

Chapter 32: “Action, Part 1”

From the very moment Norman walked out that door, Emma didn’t give herself any time to grieve and began formulating plans straight away and if that’s not the definition of strength and perseverance then I dunno what is. (kinda wish the anime had showed us how her mind was working overtime but I get they wanted to keep us on edge. that and it lacks internal dialogue to being with).

WARNING: Master actor trope coming in hot! My love for this girl shot through the damn roof when I experienced ep11 for the first time. She is unbelievably clever and nothing thrills me more than seeing our sweet girl so pissed off like this.

Once again, thanks to Krone for this valuable piece of advice because it certainly works wonders on Isabella. Well, I’ll partially give her credit for telling Emma this, but most of the praise goes to our leading actress as she effectively kept up the defeated, woe-is-me act for two whole months while also planning the real escape on the side, leaving Isabella (and even Ray) in the dark.

I love them. I love my chaotic little duo so much. The fact they barely spoke to each other since Norman’s shipment yet managed to stay on the same wavelength by focusing on their respective escape plans and maintaining an effective false mask around Isabella is amazing.

I love Isabella with all my heart, but how could she not notice all the supplies that went missing from the house? I know she was solely focused on RE and Emma mentions “Even if mom was watching us like a hawk, she only has two eyes,” but not once did mom ever question anything..? Really? The kids most likely secured items one thing at a time so she couldn’t notice something missing here or there, but that’s still a lot of stuff. (And someone tell me why the house even had backpacks?? It’s not like the adults wanted the kids to actually go anywhere.)

Y’all don’t have time to chat! By now you got less than twenty minutes til midnight and Emma is already very aware of the crazy idea Ray’s hoping to carry out thanks to the note Norman left behind, but YEAH, sure! Let’s take a seat! Relax! Go ahead and fool us all sweetie, it’ll all contribute to the surprise factor later.

I voice this wish a lot, but I really wanted to see them use those molotovs. It would’ve caused some damage to the other plants too but who cares! Imagine watching the escapees run across the wall and setting fires left and right, oohh that would’ve been so sick. Ray prepared so much for the escape with these and the tracker breaking device yet they all go unused and it’s a shame!

I always loved this panel but recently I gotta admit it ain’t perfect. In my mind anyways. Of course it’s iconic and it sorta parallels that upcoming moment of Emma’s in ch33, but it annoys me that it breaks the 180 degree rule by suddenly having Ray on the right side! He’s been on the left for the majority of this chapter, so why switch our view of this entire scene now??

Of course Ray’s still against taking the babies since they’ll be more of a hindrance once outside the farm, but what matters most to him is that Emma escapes safely, so he drops the unspoken argument. The way he also tells her to leave so she doesn’t have to witness himself being engulfed in flames is so bittersweet.. aahh god he just cares so much about her well-being and emotions and that makes me so soft for them.

♫ Do you hear chidoroki scream? Screaming the name of an angry boy? It is the moment of the series that she’ll want not to witness again! When the beating of her heart echoes the laughter of his voice, she feared there will be no more Ray when tomorrow comes! ♫

Dear boy, I love you to the moon and back, but I dunno whether to be very proud, scared or concerned??

I always say that Ray used the camera for its intended purpose and took pictures to throw off any suspicions that Isabella could’ve had about the real reason why he wanted said camera as a reward, but the fact he kept every picture to give to Emma, the one person who loves this family more than anything, is so damn precious. (and it completely breaks my heart that the pictures eventually become altered at the end of the story thanks to demon bastard.)

This post already feels long as hell but aahhh, this is definitely a moment I’m glad I didn’t have to wait for the manga to update.. I would’ve been crying the entire week.

Favorite panel/moment:

My sweet boy I’m glad you had fun but noooo!!!!!

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

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call-me-lemon · 1 year ago

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This is going to be a massive parragraph about something ive been thingking about for a while, and I will not include a tldr. Read at your own peril

God I cant stop thinking about rewriting httyd the nine realms... I want to make Tom a fucking nerd who follows his mom into the fissure so he can draw the cool rocks because he looks up to her as the one parent he has left, and he and his mom share a love for cool rocks but she moreso likes the science part and Tom just likes to look at them and draw them because hes a little art nerd... Then he sees movement along the dark cave walls, and hes still a reckless stupid little kid so he sneaks away from his mom to follow it... Then part of the unstable terrain gives way as hes chasing the strange thing in the shadows of the cave, he falls down and fucks up his arm and drops his sketchbook and pencil... The thing on the wall turns out to be Thunder, who was clinging to the cave wall so the dark markings on his back would provide a natural camouflage as he observed the new creatures... He notices Tom is injured and hesitantly approaches, leaving Tom stunned and speechless when the injured boy notices the pair of glowing eyes watching him from nearby. He reaches for his pencil to draw the creature, causing Thunder to growl as he has no idea what a pencil is or what Tom is either. Tom pulls his hand back for a moment and starts speaking to the creature. His voice is a little shakey from the pain of having just completely fucked up his arm, but its enough to show a lack of hostility. Thunder lets Tom grab the pencil, and Tom shows the dragon what the hell it is by starting to draw him. Thunder takes an interest in this and finds the boy endeering, so when he hears Toms mom coming to look for him he picks him up by the hood and takes him back to where he fell from, dissapearing once more into the caves... Tom gets taken home to get his arm fixed up and tells the other kids... Later, when his arm is healed, he sneaks back into the cave at night and re-traces his steps trying to find the dragon again. He has to go deeper than he did before, but he eventually find where Thunder is staying. Theres a wall of rubble next to which the dragon has dug a shallow scrape filled with embers and soot to sleep in. When the dragon returns from an unsuccessful hunt and notices him, he doesnt seem too hostile. Tom approaches Thunder, who only growls a little bit. After spending some time just staring awestruck at him, Tom reaches out to try and touch him. He scratches Thunder behind the ear things, which embarrasses the shit out of the dragon causing him to flee. Tom stands perfectly still for a while, then bounces in place in excitement and turns to run back home... He talks to Jun speciffically about this because Jun is also a fucking nerd but she already liked mythology. He shows her a scale that shed from the dragon and tells her to keep it a secret but she totally fucking doesnt and tells the other kids as soon as his back is turned... after seeing the scale the other kids follow Tom to where he found the dragon, but hes not there... Alex gives them walkie talkies and they split into two groups, Tom and Jun being the ones the camera follows... they find Thunder in the middle of a battle with Wu and Wei and he and Jun make noise to distract and disorient the dragons enough to seperate and calm them down, Tom tending to Thunder and Jun finding a strange connection to Wu and Wei after giving them a snack from her pocket in case they were fighting over food (In this rewrite I would make Jun eventually turn into a bad guy so their dragons not getting along particularly well would be a reoccurring thing to foreshadow that. Also TomAlex)

Im still thinking about speciffics, but im planning for Jun to want to show the dragons to her mom to prove smth and feel important but Alex would be the voice of reason and say they shouldnt until theyre sure no harm would come to the dragons if their existence was revealed... Also after everyone gets their dragons Tom and Alex would have a harness building montage where they work together to make the saddles for the dragons and all that. Tom remembers the scale he got from Thunder and suggests Alex line her riding gear with Feathers scales so shes able to hide with her dragon... I cant stop thinking about this shit... Show not even good but I want to make it good... I cant even write...

Edit: forgor to mention that what confirms Toms drive to keep the dragons hidden would be him asking his mom if, hypothetically, dragons were real what would she do and she replies that shed buy herself a dragon-skin purse

#httyd the nine realms #httyd #httyd tnr

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justjozzyjitters · 1 year ago

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Short Story #9

My Dear Old Oobleck Heart

When it comes to friendship, I often hold my heart in my hand as if giving it so readily would make people more likely to stay. A heart is smooth and sticky— when touched, it is like paste dried from the inside out. The said core cannot be penetrated too quickly as it rejects everything, but for tricky, little movements, and by cradling it, it begins to consume you like a liquid. Then, a heart with a hand at its center is solid with the threat of being torn apart. If you attempt to pull away slowly, it may go without notice, but too slow, and the past will come along like its become a part of you; too quickly, it will crack and sputter.

We were making oobleck. Just a bit of cornstarch and water with some glitter and dye to make it worth more than a passing glance. Eron smacked a plastic bowl onto the counter, liquid climbing up the plastic sides of the bowl to escape but holding tight onto the edges so as not to separate from itself. It grabbed her fingers as if to claim her within the oobleck heart, but she broke free. In just a few moments, it returned to liquid; smooth-topped, with little evidence she was there at all. That’s the difference between it and a heart.

If you look close at my heart, you can find the curvature of each little scar imposed upon it. To the heart, a person is like glitter against anything— slime, carpet, the skin at the back of my neck where it got God knows when.

“No, you don’t!” I uttered warningly as Eron picked up a bright jar of magenta glitter. The little specks of glitter that clung to the sides of the jar transferred onto her skin. If she dropped it onto the floor, I would never be able to get it back out.

“I won’t drop it,” she assured me, and though I never quite believed her, I relented. There was no reason to pay attention as she played, for I already knew how it would end. The next time I looked up from my own project— needing the oobleck between my hands, holding it till it began to seek through my fingers and solidifying it again— it was already all over. Glitter is made up of tiny, little, sand-sized bits of glass— so fine that it won’t cut the skin but did the eyes, wafting through the air as she poured it into the oobleck, and it sunk past visibility. In the heart, glitter hides against the cool shimmer of blood.

Eron apologized, and I told my mom. Of course, she wasn’t mad when I explained how the mess occurred. “Just take the vacuum down and get up what you can.” Scrape at it, suck at it, wait for it, but in the end, the glitter never really came out of the carpet, just becoming more embedded in the tightly woven flooring. For years, that stain on the floor winked at me like constellations in a stormy sky, like the Aerosmith song we belted together one day in her bedroom above her grandmother’s bedroom before getting told to quiet down. Had the roles been reversed and the mess occurred there rather than at my house, we were sure we would never have been allowed to play together again. But we were at my house where it remained a permanently secret type of mess, but maybe it would have been better had our friendship ended early.

Once kicked out of one house, we would dance at mine, where we’d never be turned away. We danced about on the carpet and further embedded the glitter into the ground like salt in a wound; a beautiful thing to look at but painful to feel, leaving behind a memory that could never be entirely erased from the mind or visibility. Our friendship was easy of spilled glitter, so to speak, but the rest of the world wasn’t. In school, we were at the mercy of our classmates. At home, we were both safe in near opposite realms of strained normality— me, where my parents were together and I had almost everything I ever could have wanted, and her the caretaker of her grandmother before barely becoming a teenager herself. She wasn’t allowed to be a kid, but in her mind, she was a scared one.

She was a wreck in a way we couldn’t yet define, where she knew her body didn’t quite match the genitalia of her heart, leading to a depression I served as the cure. In my mind, I was wrecked by a genetic self-loathing of wanting to be the perfect daughter but also sort of wanting to die, but I had no reason to feel sad, as Eron pointed out, so I carried both of our hearts. Her situation was worse. I had no right to be sad.

Every day I took on the pressures of acting as her unrecognized personal therapist. I was never paid, even with as little as her ear listening to my mouth. She could only be sad; I could only be along for the ride. If I was sad, she had to overlap my complaints with why hers were worse. Then, I moved the summer before our first year of high school— the end of an era.

In adding too much water to the cornstarch, oobleck will liquefy completely. I did so on purpose, but the glitter clung to the sides of the sink; I washed away Eron’s oobleck from mine, but I still hurt. So, I got myself a real therapist. We tried to stay friends, but in my not being sad, I was no longer of any use to her. She didn’t want me if I didn’t serve as some sort of competition.

I couldn’t let her go because even though I no longer saw the glittery carpet, every time I looked at my floor, the glitter had embedded and scratched my oobleck heart. Maybe if I had used glue instead of cornstarch, I could have made her stick around. I left physically but was the only one who remained close in the friendship sense. An ache comes in losing a friend— guilt and pain that seeped in when she first tugged herself free of the oobleck and the cracks opened up; healed over, but still there. I can’t help but blame myself, but she was the one who spilled the glitter.

About 2022, age 18.

#short story #personal narrative #names changed for privacy #best friends #toxic love #creative writing course #amateur writing #oobleck #glitter

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walriding · 6 months ago

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The fact that he's deflecting again shouldn't be -- and isn't -- surprising, because it's exactly what Miles would do. Focusing on a tangible task, something you can do and effect, is a lot more productive than poking at the sleeping bear of one's own personal trauma. Or it feels that way, anyway. It's almost certainly more of an excuse than anything, and in the moment Miles is torn between letting it drop and entirely and continuing to pick at what's clearly a sore scab.

This is more personal information than he's managed to needle out of the other man in all their collective time together. For as much as he's divulged about Collingwood and all its horrors, very little of it has actually pertained to what that experience was like on a human level. Miles has played his cards similarly close to his chest, sticking to the facts and leaving himself out of the narrative almost entirely.

That's the kind of game you can't keep up forever. Like it or not, they're at the center of their respective stories -- that's a spotlight Miles isn't used to. He's never been the subject, the victim, of his own investigation before. Because whether he wants that to be true or not, it is, isn't it? And Lance is no better off. So Miles could slip back into taking shop, or he could stop pretending like none of this has ruined him.

You showed me your so I'll show you mine -- it's only fair.

"There was this... kid, in the asylum." Miles peels himself away from the wall to deposit himself in a rickety desk chair instead, slumping against the harshly ergonomic wooden back. "Billy Hope." There's hesitance to say the name, as though it might conjure the ghost of him like one of those stupid sleepover games whispered in the bathroom mirror. But there's no hellish manifestation, no hands gripping him from beyond the grave -- just the first pulse of a migraine blooming behind his left eye. He sighs.

"The guy in charge -- creepy old Nazi fuck -- convinced me that the only way to stop the insanity, to stop Murkoff from spreading it, was to kill him. The Swarm was attached to him, their first big success. Hope was 23. His mom... his mom sold him out to Murkoff. Had him convinced he was doing her some kind of financial favor, I guess, I don't really... it doesn't matter. Point is, he was a kid. A hurt, angry, scared kid with a god in his head and a killing machine under his skin." It's intoxicating, Miles knows that now. He knew that the moment he died on the floor of that lab and felt more alive than he ever had.

"And I'm there, in that lab, all of Wernicke's bullshit in my head, looking at this fucked up kid and thinking 'the best thing I can do for you is kill you.' Convincing myself that's true, like I'm doing him a favor, like I'm not buying right into the bullshit, too." Miles closes his eyes, and it's like the scene is playing out on the inside of his eyelids. "So I do it. Turn his life support off, listen to him scream. Watch him die. And the whole time I'm telling myself this was the right thing to do." He opens his eyes again but he's looking down at his shoes, scuffing the toe of a boot against the floor idly. "Part of him's still kicking around up here," he gestures vaguely to his head. "Embedded in the Walrider, I guess. So I've got my guilt and his anger to live with, and I can't say that I don't deserve it."

There's an uncharacteristically heavy expression on his face when he does finally look up at Lance again. Sadness and guilt and exhaustion in equal measure. "Maybe there isn't some cosmic reason we're still alive -- maybe it's not about retribution or making amends or anything meaningful. Maybe we're just lucky, and doesn't that just fucking suck?"

Despite the previous outburst, Miles' first response makes Lance laugh. Just once and it's quiet, a strange mixture of perplexed and amused. A bit of a wake up call as he only just now realizes how much he's really let go off. Too much.

He's pretty quick to somewhat deflate and turn inward again, keep all of his little issues to himself, though the other's next words make him halt that for a moment longer. He looks at Miles for a long time then, without a facade, or filter, or mask, or anything. Allows himself to see the guy. A guy he doesn't even know that much about. Not anything, really. But even then, a part of him can feel it. He nods and swallows once, mirrors the other's body language. Hands in his pockets. Shrugging. Nodding still.

"Takes a haunted house to know one, right" he agrees with an exhausted snort, voice surprisingly soft compared to his previous rage. Body language saying it better. That...relief there. You do get it, don't you.

And it's so....strange. Something he's honestly never had before. Being even remotely in the same headspace or situation as someone else. And the points keep coming. Keeping hitting. Keep asking the very questions he'd been sooo eager to ignore for so long. Running away from them almost. He snorts once again and looks way, keeps quiet for a long time.

His mouth opens eventually, a split second away from answering the question. I don't know who I'm doing this for. Or why. But that gets stuck in his throat when Miles asks the next thing. And he keeps looking at him for much longer. Mouth closing back up again. Not saying a single word for what feels like forever.

"I killed someone" is all he says in the end, really not much of an answer, almost choking on it. Keeps looking at the other a moment longer until he takes a deep, shaky breath, rubs his face, looks away.

"Look. I'm sorry. You're here because you want to make sure of that, right. Fucked up corporations and people getting what they deserve. And I'm just going to keep blowing it if we keep talking about....So let's just stop talking about me, okay. It really doesn't add anything to any of this."

After another beat of silence, he feels like he has at least part of an answer for now.

"I want this to be for their benefit. Yours, too. Because yeah, you really are the first person I know who gets it. And that better than me. So how are you doing. What have you been up to. What can I actually help you with, because that's something I really do want to do. I don't want to jinx this. I want to make this work."

#demcnsinmymind #(sᴛᴀᴛɪᴄ sᴋɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴜᴢᴢɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴᴇs) ;;; Vᴇʀsᴇ: Mᴀɪɴ

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raineydays411 · 4 years ago

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My fathers daughter

prologue

Tony Stark x daughter! reader

Summary: By all definitions you were a daddy’s girl. It’s been you and him since your mom left you both. But what happens when your both forced to face your past?

a/n: y’all know i can’t resist a good crossover

If there had to be a face for daddys girl, you’d be the poster child.

Ever since you came into Tony’s life, you and him have been attached by the hip.

You were with him through everything.

When he became Iron Man, when he joined the avengers, and even during civil war. Even though it hurt you to see your family be torn apart, you could never betray your father. Then again, you have to admit that you were happy that the avengers compromised and were able to get back together. Earning you a new family member in Bucky. You were happy. Happy with the life you have with your dad and avengers.

Which is why your mother suddenly reappearing and demanding to be in your life kinda of peeved you off.

Let’s start from the beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started off with a gala.

Some bougie charity event that rich assholes attend to donate large sums of money, not out of kindness, but only to show just how rich they are. You hated these types of events. You hated the fake smiles and false interest in your life. All they wanted was to get close to your dad. They even try to set you up with their snobby stuck up kids. You hated it.

And here you were, trying to find a way to get out of this boring conversation with some snob from Beverly hills. You can see your dad laughing at you from across the room.

“You know, you look a lot like Mrs. Wayne.” He suddenly says, looking at you.

“Who?” You ask, suddenly paying attention.

“Mrs. Wayne, you know, Bruce Wayne's wife.”

You know who Bruce Wayne was. Your dad absolutely detestes the man. He never really told you why. He just said to never trust a Wayne. You also know that he’s Batman and his army of children are/were Robin. It was pretty obvious and rather easy to figure out. Then again, you were able to hack into the Bat computers main systems. They really need to update their firewalls.

“Um no I didn’t know that he had a wife to be honest.” You reply, not really interested.

“You can pass as her daughter you know? She is very beautiful. As are you.” He says in a flirty tone.

You roll your eyes, seeing your father finishing up a conversation and make your move, but then you hear

“Oh look, there's the Wayne family right there.”

Causing the attention to turn to the main entrance. There you saw Bruce Wayne. Tall, handsome, and charismatic. He was smiling, waving at the host. Next to him, his oldest son Dick. Another very handsome man, Tall with blue eyes and raven hair. Sending charming smiles to the crowds of women. Then Tim Drake, too focused on his phone to pay attention to the crowds, and finally Damian Wayne. A small boy with a sharp scowl. To his left, you can barely make out the form of his wife and his daughter, Cassandra Cain. You can also see Stephanie Brown chatting excitedly to Mrs. Wayne, who you still couldn’t see.

“Jeez, they brought the whole cavalry.” You mutter, looking at the star struck boy you were talking to.

You roll your eyes. The way people worship this family is strange. They act as if they are royalty or gods. You look at your father, expecting him to be making a sarcastic face or something. But that’s not what you saw. No, you saw a look on his face that you haven’t seen on his face ever. That’s when you walked up to him.

“Daddy...are you okay?” You asked cautiously. He turned to you, shocked.

“Y/n!” He practically shouts, “ I’m okay, are you okay? We can leave right now if you’re not okay?”

You frown in confusion, “ Umm yeah, I’m fine...”

“Good, Good. We’re going to leave now, this gala kinda blows. DOn’t you think?”

You can see his eyes dart to the Waynes to you. He looks...panicked. It was weird to you. Usually he keeps his cool during events like these.

“Um sure..I just need to go to the restroom first” You say, seeing him nod. You walk off, shaking off the concern you have for your father. As you push through the crowds, you can hear them whisper as you passed. Something about Mrs. Wayne.

You shake your head, “Can’t they talk about anything else??”

Then you finally find the bathroom. You walk in, expecting it to be empty, only to be faced with Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown. They were chatting near the sinks as you walking into the stall. After doing your business, you walked out to the sink, going to wash your hands, but you saw Stephanie freeze, then nudge Cassandra. They both stared at you as you washed your hands and went to dry them. You give them a side eye, wondering why they were staring at you so hard.

“Um hi?” You say carefully, the jump not expecting you to speak.

“Oh! Hello Im Stephanie and this is Cass” Stephanie says with a smile. “ You’re Y/n Stark right?”

“Uh yeah...Its nice to meet you dudes” You say quickly, already ready to walk out the restroom.

“I’m sorry for staring, it’s just that...you look a lot like her mother” She says gesturing to Cassandra.

You chuckle, “ Uh yeah so I’ve heard...hey I gotta go...”

“Oh right! Sorry heh” Stephanie laughs nervously, “It was great to meet you”

“Yeah” You agree half heartedly, “ You too”

And with that you go to find your father. You pass by the Wayne sons, only to see them take a double take when you pass them.

“God that family is weird.” You mumble seeing your father talking to Bruce and his wife. He looked distressed and angry. You speed up, wanting to make sure your father doesn’t punch Bruce Wayne the way he looks like he's going to.

“Hey dad...um I’m ready to go.” You says with your back turned on the Waynes.

“Y/n..” Your dad says panic exploding on his face, “ Y/n sweetheart um...”

“Yn?” You hear a woman whisper. You turn to see Bruce Wayne and...your mother.

You remember the day she left. It was a sunny day. The kind of days that usually are in good memories and have happy endings. She was supposed to take you to the park so you can meet your dad there. You hardly saw her over the years, just every three months when she would come to the then Stark Tower to visit. But that say...that day was different. She had gotten a call, from who you don’t know, nut it seemed important. Because she left at that very moment and never came back. She never reached out, never called, texted or anything. Just radio silence. Your dad was heart broken. He had hoped that one day she would move in with you and him, and you could be a family. He loved her with his whole heart, but she just didn’t love you both enough to stay. He was a mess after she left, and you picked up the pieces.

You were nine.

If it wasn’t for Pepper stepping in after witnessing one of his breakdowns, you don’t know what would’ve happened.

You stare at the woman who left you, who broke your fathers heart. Who broke your heart.

“Ms. Wayne.” you say curtly, taking pleasure in the way her face fell, “ Mr. Wayne, it’s lovely to see you again. If you’ll excuse me and my father, it seems like he’s not feeling too well.”

You weren’t lying, Tony looked like he was about to puke. His face was pale and he was kinda sweaty. So you wrapped your arm around him and lead him to the entrance, starting to pull out your phone to call Happy.

“Y/n wait!” Your mother cried out, pulling her arm away from Bruce and placing a hand in your shoulder. You jerked your shoulder out of her grasp.

“ Y/n, I know you’re mad at me” she starts, cringing when she hears you scoff, “ But wait a second. Let me look at you...my petal you’re so big.”

You turn and glare at her, “ Don’t call me that.”

“Oh Y/n, please—“You cut her off again.

“Hey i’m just going along with what you want. This is what you wanted right? No contact with us?”

You can see a crowd start to form around you, and you see the scattered Wayne’s push through it. They look at each other in confusion trying to understand how you seem to know their mother.

“ Of course that’s not what I wanted, oh petal I meant to call I just...” She trailed off

“Couldn’t be bothered?” you say harshly, “ I couldn’t care less. Just leave us alone. That should be easy for you.”

You feel your dad tug on your hand, and you turn to him. Eyes softening when you see the expression on his face.

“ Happys here kiddo.” He says softly. You nod and start to walk away. And you hear your mother protest, but you cut her off with a venomous,

“It was nice seeing you again Mom.”

and then you were gone. This time, leaving your mother behind and her confused husband and children.

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #dc comics x reader #marvel x reader #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #tony is a good dad #poc reader #reader insert #avengers x reader #crossover

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i-cant-sing · 4 years ago

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An Accident

Yeah... you may have seen this before, earlier this week when I accidentally posted it. Anyways, this is a part 2 of the Todoroki clan being obsessed with reader's hair. So, um enjoy.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todoroki Clan:

Rei is obsessed with reader’s hair.

She’s taken such good care of it, and after years of hard work, your hair now reaches just around your butt. Your hair is healthy, thick, luscious, and cut into a smooth, U shape; of course all trims are done by Rei herself because she doesn't even trust professionals. And even though you’ve asked Rei on multiple occasions to cut it short, at least up to the middle of your back, she just wouldn’t, always saying that you’re being unreasonable. But you’re not; you’ve given her multiple valid reasons.

For example, Rei and Fuyumi do your hair themselves. And initially, they would let you choose whatever hairstyle you wanted, but now they pick one for you, saying they know which one will suit your outfit of the day better. Rei likes to do double buns, or ponytails tied with ribbons or just one high pony with a pretty big bow on the top of your head. Fuyumi on the other hand makes super intricate hairstyles, and while they look pretty, only you know how much pain your scalp is in. Fuyumi does your hair as if you’re her doll, yanking and twisting hard, saying that she needs to be this rough to achieve the distinctive braid patterns. Thankfully, Rei usually does your hair most of the time.

One of the main reasons you've begged Rei to let you cut your hair short is how much time she (and you) would safe. Since your hair is so long, it takes a lot of time for Rei to put in hair masks, serums, oils, etc. It takes even longer to wash and dry them out, and then style them as well. But she smiled oh so kindly, and told you that she doesn't mind. She looks forward to taking care of your hair, forcing you to sit between her legs for hours as she applies some expensive magic growth oil, ignoring how you didn't like this.

And even if your hair is curly naturally, like even 4C curly hair, Rei will have it straight as a stick in no time (don't bother telling her that you like it natural). But don't worry, its still quite voluminous.

Of course, Rei washes your hair herself, telling you that you’re simply not capable enough to manage it. (At least she lets you wash your body yourself.) And due to your hair being so long, it takes time to not only wash it, but also dry it. Rei will detangle using a wide tooth comb, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Then she’ll dry it with her cold breath, and if required, call Enji to dry your hair with his heat. You like it when Enji dries your hair, because he does it quickly and your hair becomes far smoother.

And its not just Rei and Fuyumi that are obsessed with your hair, the boys are just as fond of it as well. Enji likes to card his fingers through your hair while he’s working on some papers or listening to news, his warm hands always putting you to sleep in his lap. Its an adorable sight, gives him a sense of peace.

Shotou also likes to run his hands through your long hair, especially after a stressful day. The feeling of his fingers through your smooth, long locks, it calms him. And if he’s feeling extra stressed, then he might braid your hair loosely as well. He always wears a scrunchie on his wrist for you.

You wouldn't ever admit it, but you enjoy it when Natsuo played with your hair. Its like he can sense when you're having a headache. He'll have you sit on the floor while he takes a seat on your bed, and then his fingers will do their magic. He knows exactly where to put pressure on your scalp, and exactly how much force to use. His massages always relieve your migraines, and he always massages with expertise to ensure their is proper blood flow in your scalp.

While you are more than happy to let Natsuo touch your hair, you hate it when Dabi's around. If you didn't know better, you'd think he wants to rip your scalp off. He knows how much it annoys you, always pulling at your ponytails, tugging at your braids, even yanking it a few times when you ignore him. And you've complained to your family, but all of them say that "oh he's just playing around." Or "no, he just misses you. He's only teasing." And when you ask Dabi to stop it, he'll just smile and say "big brother privileges."

He's insufferable.

Everyone gets to play with your hair, but God forbid if you do. Oh no, apparently you'd "destroy it", as if you're not capable of managing your own hair. You're not allowed to open your ponytails because, quoting Rei, "you're yanking your hair. You're going to rip your follicles- baby, stop. Just let me do it." But you know that she does that because she wants to brush your hair with the soft, bristle brush before you go to bed. And somedays, Rei doesn't tie your hair in a bun or something, letting your hair fall, and it gets in your way, and even then you're still not allowed to put it up because "oh honey, your hair needs to breathe too. If you keep it in a pony, the band will leave a mark in it." Honestly, everyone finds it adorable when you're dressed in your little, fluffy skirt paired with a cozy oversized sweater, all mad and pouting, trying to blow the hair strands blocking your field of vision. Like a little baby.

While Rei looks at your hair and sees years of her hards work and patience, all you see is losing control over your own life. And you are. They decide everything for you, from the clothes you wear, the food you eat, and even things you should like and dislike. They choose when you should go out, what you should watch, when its time for bed. They disregard your opinions and feelings, and if you show that you're frustrated, then its means that you're just throwing a "tantrum", and you need to be put to bed like some cranky child. You've told them that they're too overbearing, but they always say that they just love you.

What kind of love is controlling?

They're so lost in their delusions, that they don't even see the deteriorating effects it has on you mentally.

Actually, one person did see them. Dabi.

He saw how much everything was overwhelming you, how you were near tears when they talked over you, made choices for you.

He felt a bit bad for you, just a tad. Mostly, he felt there was another opportunity to mess with you.

When Dabi came to bother you one night, tugging at your hair again, this time a bit harder than usual, he saw you were ready to cry. You didn't even bother saying anything to him anymore, just kept quiet and did your best not to cry. Of course, now he ridiculed you. Called you a little crybaby and used that annoying patronising tone with you. And just as he was about to leave, he said "if your hair bothers you so much, why don't you just cut it, you big baby?"

As if something had finally snapped in you, you let his words echo. Why don't I cut it? What's stopping me?

Was it because you had learned to just give in?

You didn't even realise you had walked to your bathroom until you were holding a pair of scissors. Which surprised you, because you weren't allowed to use scissors unsupervised. It was almost as if a sign from the universe motivating you to do it, and definitely not Dabi who left them on the sink.

Holding the pair of scissors in one hand and a chunk of your hair in the other, you hesitate for a second and wonder what will Rei do. But before you could stop yourself, you cut.

I'll cross that bridge when it comes.

You start low, maybe 2 inches above your hips. It looks okay, but maybe you could cut a little more. And a little more. And a little more. Before you know it, your hair is around shoulder length, in an uneven, chunky bob. Its not perfect, but somehow you feel much better. Like you’ve finally gotten some control back. Wiping your tears away, you ruffle your hair a bit, the cool air on your neck adding to the feeling of freedom. You feel normal, happier, peaceful. Things you haven't felt in years. And all because you had 3 am meltdown.

After you cleaned up the bathroom, you went back to bed, anxious how everyone will react in the morning. Maybe they won't care. You thought. Its only hair. My hair.

Everyone was waiting for you at breakfast the next morning, and to everyone’s surprise, Dabi had joined them as well. Rei was cooking up some eggs, while the kids chatted. Enji was suspicious of the mischievous glint in Dabi’s eyes, and it was filling him with unease. Just as he was about to question him, you walked in.

Everyone went silent.

Then Fuyumi let out an audible gasp, while Dabi chuckled darkly. Natsuo, Shotou and Enji looked at you with their mouths agape.

“Good morning.”you greeted them.

Rei, who was facing away from you, finally turned towards you. “Good mo-”Rei’s breath hitched, eyes blown wide, as the plate of bacon fell from her hands.

Its funny how everyone in the kitchen, including you, had the same thought at that moment.

What the fuck?

Taking a deep breath, you moved to sit in your usual spot between Fuyumi and Rei, but Shotou suddenly pulled you back and pushed you into the seat beside him. He knows his mother is in a better state mentally, but something tells him not to risk it. Fuyumi snapped next, quickly getting up and cleaning the mess on the floor while Enji pulled Rei, who was still staring at you in disbelief, to sit beside him. You remained indifferent to everyone’s stares, quietly eating your food. As soon as you were done, Shotou got up and quickly pulled you out of the room, Dabi following close behind.

They sat in your room as Shotou looked at your hair with worry. “Looking nice, doll.”Dabi chuckled as he plopped down on your bed beside you. “Thanks.” you mumbled. “Y/n how did- why did you- why did you cut your hair?” Shotou asked, still looking at your choppy hair. “Do you not like it?” you asked. “N-no I do. But what will mom say-” “Shotou, its my hair.” you snapped. “Yeah, Shotou.” Dabi mocked. Fuyumi and Natsuo soon joined you guys, worrisome looks on their faces. “Why did you cut it? Oh my god, do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” Fuyumi was freaking out. “Its my hair.” you rolled your eyes. They ignored you. “Okay, okay. Shotou why don't you stick around with Y/n for a couple of days? Fuyumi and dad will try to keep mom away from her.” Before Fuyumi could nod, you stood up. “No.”

Natsuo looked at you confused. “what do you mean “no”?”

“I mean no. I don't need Shotou to babysit me. I can handle myself.” Fuyumi walked towards you, reaching her hands for you but you backed away, “Y/n, sweetie-” You cut her off ,“Stop treating me like a child.”

Shotou spoke this time, “Its for your protection-” “Protection from who? Our mother? Why?”your words dared them to say the truth. To agree that Rei was unstable. They didn't say anything.

A few days had passed by and things were returning to normal. Almost normal. Rei still had this thousand yard stare when she looked at you, but she never said anything. Cutting your hair was the best decision you had made, because not is it only easy to manage, but it also got the family off your back. Rei doesn't wash your hair anymore(although you think she's just not over the shock), Fuyumi doesn't need to do your hair, they dry faster, and all of your brothers (including Dabi) doesn't mess around with them anymore. Enji was the first to adjust to your new cut, he even complimented you one day.

Did you feel guilty because you know how attached Rei was to your hair? A bit, but then realised that you needed this. You need some control over your life, and if this is how they react to your new cut, then maybe you could start taking back reigns over other aspects of your life as well.

You thought that maybe Rei had finally gotten over it a week later, when you were laying in the bathtub, enjoying the hot bath. When you heard her walk in, you were a bit startled. Why was she here- is she finally over it? "Um- hey." She smiled at you. "Why are you here?" She took the bath stool and sat behind the tub. "You know why." She replied and started rolling her sleeves up. Is she here to wash my hair? "Oh, are you here to wash my hair? I don't need help with that anymore now that they're short." Rei smiled again, this one looking forced, before dipping her hand in the tub. "No, silly." And with that, Rei froze the entire the tub in 2 seconds. The ice trapped your limbs, and reached up to your clavicle. The sudden change from hot to cold had you jolt, but you couldn't move due to the frozen ice. "Mom-!" You heard the buzzing sound of a trimmer and then felt Rei entangle her fingers in your hair to yank your head back. "I'm here to complete your haircut." You tried moving your head but her grip on your scalp was unrelenting. She started trimming the right side of your head, moving it slowly as to get every single hair. "Honestly, you should've come to me. I do agree that it'd be a good idea to start again." Tears fell from your eyes, your teeth chattered and you could feel your heart beat slow down as the cold seeped into your bones. "M-mom, I'm col-d. P-please s-stop..." Rei was done with one half of your head. "You know, I read somewhere that your grows thicker if you cut it. I'm sure that after I've shaved your head, your hair will grow even fuller. I've already gotten some new oils and hair masks! Maybe we could do them together." You couldn't hear anything besides the slowing of your own heart beating. Your breath had started to become shallow, you couldn't think about anything except for how painful ice could be. Your lips were turning blue, eyes were getting clouded with black spots, all sensation from your body was losing. Just before you lost consciousness, you heard the bathroom door open and a panicked yell.

You felt warm.

When you came to, your entire body felt warm and weighted, probably due to the heavy blanket spread on you.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself in a dimly lit room. It was...your parents room. Why am I here? You turned your head to look around but your eyes stopped at the large figure sitting on a chair next to your bed.

"Dad?"

The figure's head snapped towards yours. "You're awake." He paused. "How- how are you feeling?" You moved the blanket off you, your body felt dense and ached. "Warm and...sore. What happened? Why am I in your bedroom?" Enji shifted in his seat. "I think its best if you stay here from now on, so that... your mother and I can look after you." Your eyes widened. "What? Why?" You moved to sit up but then a pain shot through your head. "Ah shit." You hissed in pain as you went to massage your temples but your hands halted at the feeling of your hair... or lack there of. You tried to run a finger through your choppy bob cut, but all you felt was your shaved head. Your eyes met Enji's, looking at him in disbelief as you recalled the events that had led up to this. "Darling-" You jumped off the bed and ran towards the vanity mirror, praying that this is just a nightmare. But as you looked at your reflection, you realised that this was the terrifying reality you were living in.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you took in your appearance. Trimmed- no, shaved pink hair. You couldn't see a single bit of hair above the roots, only a baby pink scalp. She had not only trimmed your hair first but then also proceeded to shave your scalp off. Your head looked like it had peach fuzz.

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not even when Enji placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n-" He didn't even what to say. He was still in shock from what would've happened if Fuyumi hadn't yelled for him when Rei was-

Enji shook his head. Now's not the time. You're here and you're fine. You're fine. Enji pulled you towards him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. "You're fine." He repeated, more to himself than to you. "Why- why would she do this?" Your voice was muffled by his chest but he understood. He understood your pain and it tore him apart that he still wouldn't be able to help you.

Enji honestly didn't know what to tell you. He didn't know what words would bring you comfort. "It... it was an accident." His chest rumbled as he spoke. You pushed yourself away from him as you looked at him perplexed.

"What?" Your eyebrows raised, nostrils flared and blood rushed to your face. You were going to blow up.

"An accident? Is that what you said? Oh okay. Was it an accident when she froze the fucking tub? Did the trimmer accidentally fall from her hands to my head?! Oh and did she accidentally pull the razor over my head?!" Angry tears fell from your eyes but you were far too enraged to care.

Enji opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Turning around you saw her.

Rei was standing there with a tray of food and water. Her face turned to shock before turning to happiness. She set the tray on a nearby table before she rushed towards you, her hands reaching for your face.

"Angel, you're awake-" you pushed her hands away roughly as you backed away from her.

"Dont you dare touch me."

The couple, they had never heard your voice such hostility. It wasn't like you. Rei shook her head as she tried to reach for you again, taking another step in your direction. But you smacked her hands away again. "I said don't touch me!" Your yelling had got your siblings to rush in the room, wanting to see what the commotion was about.

Rei's eyes shifted from you to Enji, looking at him for help, before they returned back to you. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/n, darling. What's wrong?" You scoffed at her soft tone that tried to quell the storm of negative emotions bubbling inside you. "What's wrong? What's wrong? I don't know, you tell me, Rei. Why the fuck am I bald?!" Your head was pounding with rage, raw unbridled anger.

When Rei didn't say anything, Fuyumi stepped forward to help her out. "Y/n its-"

"Shut up."

Fuyumi's- everyone's eyes widened. Of everyone, you never even rose your voice at your favourite sibling. But to hear your voice turn so cold towards her, it shocked everyone. "Y-Y/n-" she tried again but you cut her off. "I said shut up. I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Rei and she'll answer for herself."

Enji placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back slightly. "Have some respect. She's your mother-" You yanked your shoulder away from his grip. "No, she's not!" You inhaled deeply, trying to stabilise your voice. "No, she's not. You're not my dad. I'm not a part of this family. And I'm so sick of playing this game."

Dabi's eyes narrowed. "Stop being an ungrateful brat. You've been given all the luxuries one could only imagine, spoiled to no end-" You laughed. "Did I ask for anything?" "You never had t-" "And all these luxuries that you're talking about, I didn't get them for free. I had to give up a lot. No, wait-" you laughed again, tears blurring your vision. "I didn't give up anything. You all took it. Yeah, all of you snatched everything away from me. My family, my friends, my privacy, my sanity, everything. And you-" you moved towards Rei, pointing a finger at her. "You have been the most greedy one of them all."

Rei's jaw fell open, as she shook her head. "No-" You shook your head.

"Yes! I gave you everything. I let you dress me up in those god awful clothes, feed me whatever you wanted, stick to your side like glue because you don't like it when I was out of your sight for a more than a few minutes. For fucks sake, I didn't even go to college this year because you weren't ready to see me become an adult!" You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. "I played into your sick little fantasy. I let you treat me like a child, talk to me like I'm some helpless baby. I let you touch me even though it disgusted me to no end. I never even complained when you gave me ice burns because I was throwing a tantrum." You looked at the rest of your family, and they were shocked to hear that last bit. You smiled cruelly at them. "Yeah, you didn't know that did you?"

Rei was crying herself by now, as she reached out for you once again but you moved away. "I let you have everything. All I wanted was this little bit of freedom, for my own sanity. But you couldn't stomach that could you?" Your head hung low, your tears hitting the floor.

"Why do you have to be so selfish?"

Your voice held so much pain and defeat. Rei couldn't help but engulf you in her arms, wrapping herself around you tightly before you could even protest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried out. "I- I promise I'll fix this! Yes. I-I've already gotten you some new hair oils! They say that they'll help you grow 6 inches in a month! Oh and Natsuo also brought some stuff for hair growth! Some vitamins and- Natsuo whats that spray called? Minoxy? Mi-minoxidil! Yes! He said that'll help you grow your hair in no time! Doesn't that sound nice? You'll have long hair like before!" Rei pushed back to look at you. You couldn't believe it.

"Are you- are you really that delusional?" Your voice was so soft, almost like you would break any moment now. "Are you so blind to see what you're doing to me?" Your eyes held so much pain and confusion. "Sweetie, don't worry- mommy will take such good care-" You pushed Rei away from you, your anger rolling back in full speed. "YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!" You shrieked. "Y/n-" Shotou tried to interject. "I'm not a part of your fucking family."

Enji stepped towards you. "Calm down."

You looked at him. "You said that what happened was an accident. What will you do if another one happens? And you're not around this time to save me? Hmm? What will you do? Continue playing house with my dead body?!"

Rei's sobs shook her body. "Shut up. Think before you say stupid shit like that." Dabi spoke this time, moving to stand between you and his mother. "Or what? You're going to hurt me? More the reason why all of you, but especially you-" you pointed at Rei "deserve to be in that nuthouse-!"

You were on the floor before you could even process what had happened. Had you- had you fallen? But when the searing pain of the burn on your cheek came alive and you looked at his hand that had erupted in blue flames, you realised what had happened.

Dabi slapped you.

"Y/n!"

Your cheek felt like someone had placed a hot iron on it, the sting spreading to your entire cheek, but you were far too shocked to care about the pain.

Dabi slapped me.

Shotou, Natsuo and Fuyumi quickly rushed to your side, picking you up and out of the room, while Dabi stood there in stunned as his own hand throbbed. The image of his handprint branded on your scared face wasn't going to leave his mind anytime soon.

Enji hesitated, looking at his wife and son in disbelief, before leaving the room to look for you.

Rei walked towards Dabi and smacked his arm. "What did you do?!" She yelled at him. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

"She's your little sister, Touya! W-why would you do that?!" Rei scolded him.

He hurt you. Like Enji hurt Rei.

He hurt you.

Rei sighed before closing her eyes and engulfing Dabi in her arms. "Its okay. Its not your fault." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Dabi wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her neck, before nodding.

"Yes. It was an accident."

So... how was it?

#yandere bnha #yandere dabi #yandere endeavor #yandere dabi x reader #yandere mha #yandere todoroki family #yandere todoroki clan #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #yandere natsuo todoroki #yandere fuyumi todoroki #yandere touya todoroki #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #platonic enji todoroki #yandere shoto todoroki

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silver-weasel · 3 years ago

Text

Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…”

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck.

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick.

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core.

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to.

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say: “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

#bnha smut #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya smut #mha smut #there it is omg it's long af #weasel writes

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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can u do a blurb about reader wanting a baby and asking her co-worker Spencer to be the donor because he's smart and nice and she wants a cute baby?

you said blurb and i read 2K word fic apparently lmao

Late nights behind a desk were the worst. Y/N hated reading over case file, after case file, of horrific things as she tried to choose where they went next.

The only plus side was that she wasn’t alone, Spencer was at his desk just beside her. Like he always was. They had an interesting friendship, to say the least.

Ever since Y/N joined the BAU, Spencer and her were glued at the hip. They had all the same interests, liked the same music and movies, and they spat out information the same way, they were like each other’s dorky other half— but it was just a friendship.

They had a tradition to watch at least one movie together after a case, to just chill for a bit together. Always randomly picking one of their apartments to go to, spending the night together until one of them eventually wandered off to bed. Leaving the other on the couch.

They weren’t aware of their feelings for each other for a while. Both of them being so used to being alone, and never having anyone be interested in them before. It was hard to understand if the feelings they had were pure friendship, or if it could ever be more. If the sex would fuck everything up and take away that perfect happy place they found in each other, or would it make the bond stronger?

She noticed the crush before Spencer showed any signs of liking her back. She woke up every morning thinking of him, that's when she came to the conclusion that it was more than just a friendship. She wanted him in her life forever, she wanted to kiss his perfect lips and hug his soft body, wake up beside his messy hair and just love him for the rest of eternity.

She sighed as she picked up another file, not excited to learn about the horrible acts taking place in what people called, “the best country in the world.” She’d disagree any day of the week.

This one was a file about some missing kids apparently being spotted in a van altogether in Georgia, it looked interesting enough to be the next case. She hated reading all the info, seeing every kid's happy face in the file knowing that’s not how they looked now.

“Good god,” she groaned as she flipped through the case.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked over the divider.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, “just a bad case.”

She handed it to him over the desk, hearing him flip through all the sheets as he read a million words a minute. “We should show this to Emily first thing,” Spencer agreed, pushing himself over to her desk in his wheely chair.

“I will,” she smiled softly, taking the file back from him and placing it on her desk.

Spencer stood then, making his way into her space and rubbing his hand over her back slightly. “Are you okay?”

She sighed, “actually. no, I was telling Garcia I want to have a baby soon, and then I see things like this and I’m scared to do it alone but I don’t have any other option?” Ranting to him like he was her therapist.

“What do you mean?”

She turned in her chair to look up at him, his soft brown eyes really caring to hear the answer. “Sit,” she insisted.

He pulled the chair over more, sitting close enough that their knees touched. “I’m 36, I’m not having any luck finding a husband or a wife, I want a baby and if I have to do it myself I will, but what if I’m not enough? What if I have a boy and he grows up to be a killer cause he never had a dad?”

“Y/N,” Spencer’s voice was soft as he looked at her with a confused scrunch on his face. “That couldn’t happen, you’re a wonderful person, I love having you on the team and in my life, I know you’d raise good kids, you should do it.”

“Really?” She beamed at him, the words touching her heart and making her swoon a bit.

“I mean, it would be hard,” he added reason to the conversation. “You’d have to take time off, which would be good for bonding. My mother raised me alone and I turned out semi-fine, I don't hold any resentment for her not finding someone for me to call dad or even step-mom for that matter. I think if you give them all the love in the world like I know you’re capable of, your child will love you like you’re their whole world.”

She laughed as she noticed the tears welling in her eyes, waving her hand's in front of her face so she wouldn’t fully sob. “Do you want to be the donor?” She made a joke to change the topic.

Spencer laughed then too, “sure!”

Everything got serious again then, she looked at him a little differently. “Really? Cause honestly, you’re like a Grade A donor profile in the most expensive clinic!” She couldn’t help herself from laughing again at the absurdity.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad, 40 isn’t too old to have a child, is it?” He seemed to have decided that rather fast.

“Okay,” she nodded with a smile, “okay. That’s cool, sick,” she felt the words get smaller as she thought it over.

“I get it if you were kidding,” Spencer spat out. “I realize now that you might have been making a joke, I hope it’s not weird that I agreed so fast, it’s just that I think you’re a very beautiful and smart woman and the idea of helping you make a child makes me really excited. I think it would be a very good idea if you were being serious, but I get it if you’re not.”

She let him get it all out, always loving when he got like this on a case or in person, nervous or just because he wanted to talk, she loved to listen. And no one ever let him finish his thoughts, always wanting to beat him to the punch.

“Spence, I think you’re really handsome and smart too,” she smiled. “If you’re also serious, I am too.”

“How would we?” He asked as he pulled at the top button of his dress shirt, swallowing like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden.

“If you’re not opposed, I’m sure the good old-fashioned way would work?” She laughed, laying her hand on his knee softly.

It was like sparks flew at that moment as if all the fluorescent lights in the bullpen could have exploded and she wouldn’t have even noticed. Captivated by Spencer's eyes as he gasped at her touch.

“Not opposed in the slightest,” he said softly as he held his own hand over hers.

She couldn’t help herself from smiling. “Well, I think I’m all done here if you want to come to my place for a movie?”

“Sure,” he replied, offering her a hand as they stood up together.

He returned his chair to his desk, both of them grabbing their coats and bags and rejoining at the door.

“I should go say goodnight to Penny,” Y/N said softly. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” he followed her through the door and down the hall to the tech room.

“Knock knock,” Y/N said as she walked through the open door. “Oh great and knowledgeable one, I’ve come with my nightly farewell.”

“Oh my knight, I shall miss you,” Penelope played along, sauntering over to her and wrapping her up in a hug. “I leave you with this until your return.”

“Through scorching deserts, and blistering winds, I will make it back to you, always,” she tried not to laugh as she hugged her back. “I also brought forth the jester.”

Spencer was laughing in the doorway as the two of them looked at him, “hi?”

“The pretty boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um,” Y/N smiled, “Spencer and I are just going back for our nightly movie.”

Penelope looked at both of them, jaw slightly gaped, “nightly? I thought it was a case by case thing?”

“It’s a good excuse for us to talk,” Spencer smiled at her.

“Mhmm,” she smirked, “well have fun.”

She pulled Y/N back into another hug, hiding her face from Spencer, “I need all the dirty deets in the morning.”

Y/N smacked her arm softly as she pulled back, “goodnight pretty penny.”

“Farewell brave knight, handle with care, Jester,” Penelope pointed her finger at him, giving him a knowing glance.

“Yes, oh Knowledgeable one, always,” he blushed.

He reached out his hand for Y/N, interlocking their fingers as they left her office and headed towards the elevator. A rare moment of bravery on his part, holding hands like this didn’t spread a lot of germs.

“We’re going to have to discuss a lot of logistics like realistically this isn’t going to be just a fuck and oh look its a baby. This is a real live baby that we need to raise and care for,” she reminded him as the elevator doors shut.

“I’d like to be as involved as you’d let me be,” Spencer replied. “I don’t have to be 'dad' to them, I could be uncle Spence that’s fine too.”

“Oh no, you’d be Dad for sure,” she nudged him slightly. “I mean like, weekends and holidays and birthdays, your mom will want to see them surely, my parents will want to see them. Housing,” she looked at him horrified. “I have an apartment with 2 bedrooms, I don’t think I could let them sleep somewhere without me.”

“I have been looking at houses,” Spencer added before the doors opened to the garage, “you’re driving right?”

“Yeah, you were saying?” She replied, digging her keys out of her purse and leading him towards the car.

“Derek Morgan, I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet, he fixes up old homes in DC and Virginia now. He just finished one and I helped him with it. I think I’m going to buy it from him. It has 4 bedrooms, we could all live under the same roof? It would be easier to co-parent.”

She was amazed at how fast he adapted to this as if he’d been having the same thoughts she was having. At a certain point wanting kids becomes a pipe dream filled with desperation and emptiness, he looks like he’s experienced it too.

She opened her door and sat down before replying to him again. Thinking about how wonderful he was going to be during this process, “thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He asked as they both closed their doors.

She sighed, relaxing into her seat as she started the car. She turned to him softly, not wanting to cry as she spoke softly. “Being a mom is more of a dream to me than joining the BAU was, this is the best gift you could give me.”

He reached his hand out again, holding it softly. Running his thumb over her knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah,” she nodded softly.

He couldn’t make eye contact with her, staring at their hands as he rubbed her skin.

“Um, I’ve been pretty infatuated with you since you joined,” he let it out finally. Like a ton of bricks off his back he relaxed a bit, “after everything with Maeve, Cat and Max… oh god, and JJ... I was so worried that if I got too close to you I’d lose you. I tried to keep the feelings in, that's why I said what I did to Penelope. She knows how I feel about you.”

It was like fireworks were going off in her chest as the butterflies erupted inside of her. She sat up, turning to him more and ripping her hand from his grasp.

It startled him, he looked at her anxiously as if she was going to yell at him. But she placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

His arms snaked around her waist, wishing they could get closer if it wasn’t for the damn centre console of her car. Pressing their lips together, hard, as they breathed each other in. Desperation taking control, she wasn’t able to let go of him.

When she finally did pull away, however, the look on his face was priceless. Like expensive art, every line and freckle had a meaning. He was surprised, enamoured, grateful, desperate for more.

She smiled softly, rubbing her thumbs over his cheek. “Good, cause it would be awkward having your baby and not getting to love you every day too.”

taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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