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wispycecilia · 3 years ago

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people-free bookstore.

akira kurusu x reader

[14:29] - 1298 words.

synopsis: locked in a library while its raining. oh, and did i mention that you’re alone with a hot dude too?

notes: pure fluff. mentions of prominent literature figures. akira used instead of ren. no spoilers, just the 'i am thou..’ speech :)

a/n: yall. i wrote this two years ago. TWO YEARS AGO. AND IT HAS BEEN GATHERING DUST FOR THAT LONG. i revamped it to the point where it’s basically unrecognisable to the first draft, but i just wanted to share some of my old writing w/ u all!! u can definitely see the rookie mistakes still </3

The feeling of the bonded leather made a smile tug at your lips. It had always been like this: with the countless rows of spines facing outwards, the smell of dusty parchment and coffee filling the air - the bookshop in a secluded corner of Shibuya had been your home; your sanctuary.

The atmosphere was unparalleled - there was no other place as calming as here. South-facing windows made light leak through; rays of comfort lining your face.

Time passed by, and those rays of comfort disappeared - replaced with dreary rains as the melodious tune drifting through the air stays consistent. A puff of cold escaped your lips, leaving a trail of disappointment in its wake.

‘So much for going home…’

The rain continued, wed thuds echoing into the quaint bookshop. They were like bullets battering against the roof. You could tell that in order to avoid getting your books wet, going home had to wait a bit.

‘H-Hey guys. You gotta leave soon. I know it’s raining and all, but I gotta wrap up my shift in a bit…'

A meek voice caught your attention. There was no way she actually expected you to go outside in this weather - right?

You opened up your mouth to protest, but a masculine voice beat you to it. ‘With all due respect, there’s no way we’re going out there.’

Immersed in your own world, you failed to realise that there was another person in the cozy shop that wasn’t the shop-keep. You expected to see no one impressive, maybe just a face that blended in with the remaining crowd – a normality, even - but you instead lock eyes with the prettiest boy you have ever seen. You were openly gawking. And doubled with the fact that he rendered the poor worker speechless with just a singular sentence? It was almost comical.

Looking at him closer, you were able to pinpoint why exactly the worker was speechless. The blush on her face said it all. Staring shamelessly, you struggled to keep your eyes to yourself as you studied the stranger’s features. With framed glasses and tousled hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in years, he could easily be mistaken as your average passer-by. But he was enchanting. There was something endearing about his plain look; his aura leaking with pure confidence. He could captivate even the strongest people with just one look.

What a piercing glare. The thought wandered into your mind carelessly, foregoing any prior thoughts about the man.

Unable to continue the staring contest, the worker averted her attention to you. ‘By the looks of things, I’m guessing you’re not leaving either, right?’ Giving a hesitant nod in return, the girl groaned. ‘I don’t get paid enough for this. Seriously,’ impassively gesturing to the counter, all previous sense of her nervousness dissipated. ‘This is where the keys are. Lock up when you’re done, and not a word of this to anyone, okay? You’re putting my job at risk here.’

Walking over to the entrance to make her leave, the girl spared one last look over to you two, hands briskly unwrapping the only umbrella from the rack. ‘I’m only doing this because you’re attractive… The boy. Akira, I mean.’

Wait. They know each other?

And just like that, three became two.

‘The girl has no shame, huh? Totally into you, dude.’ You gave a little smile to your side, in hopes of removing the tension between you and the boy, Akira, if you recalled correctly. Oh, why won't the rain just let up already? ‘Seems like it’s not gonna stop any time soon… So much for going home, I guess.’

His stare was too much for you. Suddenly, the window seemed more interesting than the hundreds of books you were surrounded by. Yet, in the midst of the window's reflection, you swore you saw Akira’s eyes crinkle up in amusement at your pity party. His smile was cute; his name was cute. He was cute.

‘Well, if we’re stuck, we might as well get comfortable, right?’ You walked over to the couch at the centre of the store, gesturing him over with a wave of your hand. Encyclopedia of Thieves was left askew. A childish name filled with equally immature drawings. A teenager definitely left it here.

Oh screw it, literature is literature. Might as well give it a read, right?

Mimicking your actions, Akira grabbed an obscure book off of the horror shelf, before proceeding to sit on the furthest end of the couch you’re on. The novel in question, however, caught your attention.

‘No Longer Human? As in, Osamu Dazai’s?’ That’s one of my favourites! I know it’s cliche, but it’s fantastic nonetheless, really!’ In the midst of your excited sprawl, his mouth hangs open for a bit. Oh no, did you get too carried away? ‘Sorry, I tend to get a bit… Excited over these things.’

‘It’s alright.’

So, he was a man of very little words, huh? That’s alright - it adds more mystery to his persona. Maybe that’s why you’re attracted to his charm in the first place.

You two pause, and with the initial rush of adrenaline and excitement gone, the chatter slows down into a lull of nothingness, replaced with the melodious piano music that drew a line between the tranquillity of strangers. The silence was one you would have with an old friend - it wasn’t awkward whatsoever; it was calming.

That’s when a realisation hits you.

‘Ah did you realise--’

‘We’re alone, aren’t we?’

Completely neglecting the fact that that’s the longest sentence he’s said to you, you stood up in excitement, ‘Don’t you realise? We’re in a people-free bookstore! This is like… the coolest thing that has ever happened to me! W-Wait here! I’m going to get something.’

You excitedly browse through the collection of novels and eagerly grab some until a pile forms within your hands. While you dump them onto the couch - spreading out like falling dominoes as a result - he smiles at your excitement. You were like an excitable cat. Adorable.

The not-so stranger stands up and does the same, picking up novella and putting it on the couch tentatively, creating a tower of books.

You sit down and urge him to follow suit through your smile alone. ‘Here! Look, this is my favourite at the moment. It’s Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, and the plot is fantastic. The author actually takes risks, which is like, something none of ‘em do nowadays. A feat in itself, if you ask me.’

He nods - and this is when you realise, even after everything that has occurred – Akira’s an awesome listener. A stark contrast to your talkativeness.

‘I’m reading this one at the moment,’ He pointed at the cover that read Snow Country, and you questioned Akira’s taste in literature right then and there. ‘The story is just as bleak as the cover implies.’

You laugh at his comment, and the impromptu book show-and-tell begun.

Deep within his mind, Akira heard it.

‘I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall become the wings of rebellion that breakth thy chains of captivity. With the birth of the Page of Pentacles persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.’

Two people, alone, in a bookshop. And with the smiles and laughter filling up the bookstore, the smell of petrichor fails to reach your noses; coffee and parchment, the scents of home, settled in its stead.

The fact that it had stopped raining almost an hour ago failed to dawn upon the duo. But you two didn't care; you were busy basking in the limelight that had been meticulously crafted.

Maybe something more than just a confidant has been formed: a relationship that surpasses the boundaries between acquaintances and lovers.

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messers-moony · 3 years ago

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Wish | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at the age of 26 instead of 13

He was angry, that wasn’t mistaken, “ You aren’t listening to me! “

“ Are you hearing yourself?! What you’re about to do is dangerous! “ She yelled in response, and he scoffed.

They stood in the main room of their apartment. Y/n was placed in the kitchen leaning on the island while Five was dangerously close to the door. Both of them at the age of twenty-five. They had gotten married only a year before finding each other during one of his trips to Griddy’s with his siblings. He thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Five stalked closer to her, “ You are so stubborn. “

“ I am the strongest one. “ His voice was dangerously low as they stood only a foot apart, “ I will do this. I don’t care what you say. Nothing will change that. “

“ Five, please. “ Y/n begged, “ I’m- I’m just worried about you. “

“ You don’t need to be. “ Five snapped, and he fast-walked to the door.

The male swung open the door, “ Five wait, please- “ But before she could finish, the door slammed, “ I’m pregnant. “

It was new news. She didn’t find out until a week earlier. She didn’t know when to tell him; there never was a suitable time. Now he had just threatened to fulfill a lifetime goal of his– time travel. Since he was a boy, he’s wanted to prove his worth. The only way Five could think to do that is by time-traveling into the future. He didn’t know what the future would entail. He definitely didn’t plan to get stuck in an apocalypse.

So for nine torturous months, Y/n endured a pregnancy. She was carrying a child of her presumed to be dead husband, which she didn’t believe in the slightest. Five Hargreeves was alive, and she knew that regardless of what anyone told her. She had a baby boy who she named Malachi. The same bright, alluring green as his fathers.

Despite his birth father not being around, Diego was a significant help. Diego stepped in where Five couldn’t. He was there for all of Malachi’s firsts and everything in between. But he was always Uncle Diego. A constant reminder that this man wasn’t his father. As far as the little boy knew, he didn’t have a father.

Things got more tricky as he got older. Malachi realized that a father figure was more common than not, which brought raising questions. She answered to the best of her abilities, but nothing was ever valid. None of her answers could be a hundred percent true because she didn’t know either. It was killing her to see her son this way.

He longed for a father. Wanted nothing more for a father-son relationship. Every birthday, every Christmas, he wished for his father to come home. It was killing Y/n because she understood his pain. The amount of dread, guilt, and sadness.

Maybe if she had told Five sooner, he would’ve never left. The guilt ate away at her. It was like an insect slowly crawling its way under her skin into her bones and nibbling them until they were gone. It didn’t help Malachi was an exact replica of his father. The dark, almost raven hair parted to the side, the glittering green eyes and a defined face.

No matter how long Five was gone, Y/n never took off her rings. She was a married woman until proven otherwise. Malachi had never even seen photos of his father. That was normal to him. All he knew was that his Uncles and Aunts told him he looked the exact same. Despite the same appearances, they had clashing personalities.

Malachi was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Kind no matter who the person was. Wise beyond his years and intelligent like no other. His strong suit was English while he struggled in math. The irony was amusing. His father excelled in math, but he couldn’t do a two-step equation if he tried.

In the grand scheme of things, this didn’t matter. He got all the way up to high school. He was seventeen, to be exact, in his junior year of school. It was the summer before his senior year, and he couldn’t be more excited. As the years went on, the hope of meeting his father diminished to the point where he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He had his mom, and that’s all that mattered. His mom was his rock, his number one supporter, and his best friend. Malachi loved his mom more than anything and would give anything to keep her safe. Diego had grown to be like a father to him, but it was never the same. Malachi was sitting at the island doing homework while Y/n was cooking.

“ Hey, mom? “ He called, “ Yeah? “ Y/n turned to look at her son.

Malachi fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, “ Can I- Can I see your rings? “

“ My rings? Why? “ She asked, “ Well, dad gave them to you, didn’t he? “ Malachi replied.

Y/n nodded, “ Of course he did. We were married, technically we still are married. “

“ I just wanted to see what dad gave you. “ He murmured.

Hesitantly Y/n twisted both her engagement ring and her wedding ring off her left ring finger. She set them down on the granite island before her son so he could look at them. Gently he picked the engagement ring up and looked at it. It was the only time he’s ever seen the ring this close. She never took them off.

“ We got engaged in the snow. “ Y/n informed quietly, “ I really wasn’t expecting it. He never seemed like one to settle down. “

Malachi listened intently, “ Regardless. It was almost Christmas, and he took me to go Christmas shopping at one of the malls which was outside. “ She chuckled, “ Why he did that, I don’t know, but it was amusing. We got hot chocolate despite his love for coffee, and I made him wear a Santa hat. “

“ He was never into festivities before meeting me. Neither were your Aunts and Uncles. I started making holidays become more festive when you were born. Eventually, they got the hang of it. “ Y/n continued, “ Why was dad's name a number? “ He interjected.

“ He never got a name like the rest of his siblings. “ She answered plainly, “ Why? “

Y/n sighed, “ His father, more specifically your grandfather was a cruel man. Still is a very cruel man, which is why you’ve never met him. Reginald made the Umbrella Academy, where he adopted your dad along with his other siblings. “ She explained, “ They endured long days of training without breaks and horrid living environments. They were treated as experiments rather than children. “

“ They all got names, but Five didn’t want one. He rejected it because it didn’t matter. Name or anything. Their numbers would always define them, and Five was the only one who understood that. “ She finished.

“ What really happened to him? I know you’ve given me vague explanations, but I think I’m ready for the real thing. “ Malachi stated, “ I’m seventeen now. “

“ I know. Your father had powers. His others siblings do as well. They all do certain things. Five could travel through space and time. “ Y/n began, “ Growing up, he always felt the need to prove himself, to be better than everyone else. “

“ So, one day, he told me he was going to time travel. It was a big argument that definitely didn’t need to happen. At the time, I was a week pregnant with you, and I didn’t know how to tell him. “ She swallowed the emotions arising after remembering Five’s glare,

“ When I told him, it was too late. He was already out the door and gone. “

Y/n walked forward and took the rings back. She placed them back on her ring finger carefully as her son watched every movement. He knew she was upset. Malachi couldn’t help but be a bit resentful towards his father. All this to make a point? It seemed far-fetched.

“ That solution seems a bit absurd. “ Malachi commented, “ That's what I was trying to tell him, but he was very prideful and stubborn. “ Y/n replied.

A knock echoed through the apartment. The room felt tense. It wasn’t right; something felt off. Malachi felt it immediately cause he stood up and began walking to the door, wanting to protect his mother if a threat was there. Secretly Diego may have given him some defense classes, but that didn’t matter.

The boy opened the door to see almost the exact same face staring back at him, “ Who are you? “ Malachi snapped.

“ More importantly, who are you? “ The man retorted.

Every hair on Y/n’s body stood up. She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. It was him. He was back. It took everything inside her not to scream or cry but seeing Malachi hold his defensive stance against his own father was worrying her.

“ Malachi. “ She called, and he turned to her as she began to walk to the door, “ I need you to go to your room and promise not to eavesdrop. “

He wanted to protest, “ Please, sweet. I’ll be okay. I promise. “

Reluctantly Malachi backed away from the door giving the man a harsh glare that made the man evidently tense. Y/n waited for Malachi to be fully retreated in his bedroom before looking at the man in front of her.

“ Well. It looks like you’ve moved on. “ Five murmured, “ No- please. It isn’t what it looked like. “ She pleaded.

Her hand took his, and he recognized the rings on her finger. The same rings Malachi had just been examining. The same rings he took months to search for to find the perfect fit for his perfect girl. Everything seemed so colorful in his greyscale world now. His wife was still his.

“ Who- Who is he? “ His voice trembled as his lingering suspicion felt more accurate than ever, “ Come in and sit. We need to talk. “ Her voice was gentle and held no malice.

Five entered the now unrecognizable apartment. It wasn’t the same as when he left. In fact, everything seemed moved out of place. Y/n walked to the stove and turned off the burner that she was using. Five had peered at the papers on the island that were math worksheets and took a seat beside them.

“ Where did you go? “ She asked, “ The future. “

“ No shit. What did it look like? “ Y/n retorted playfully, “ It’s not as I hoped. It’s an apocalypse, love. “ His voice held so much pent emotion it was almost radiating off him.

She sighed, “ Okay. We need to talk about that- “

“ I- I want to know who that kid is. “ Five interrupted, and she gave him a knowing look, “ Malachi, can you come out here. “ Y/n called, and instantly he was out of his room.

The boy stood beside his mom, still not comfortable with the unfamiliar man. This time Five got a chance to really look at the teenage boy in front of him. The defined face, the almost raven hair, the same sage green eyes. His posture was protective and territorial, obviously for his mom.

“ Y/n… “ Five began as he swallowed the tears in his throat, “ Is- Is he mine? “

She nodded, “ Five Hargreeves, I’d like you to meet your son, Malachi Hargreeves. Malachi, I’d like you to meet your father, Five. “

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booksarelife-stuff · 3 years ago

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4 times Lily and James fought over a bus seat and the 1 time they didn’t

JILY CHALLENGE | APRIL 2022 | @jilychallenge

My partner was the incredible @glasschampagne!

Prompt: "we make eye contact before both trying to steal the last seat on the bus/train and i end up in your lap and fuck you, I'm going to stay here because I've had a really long day and this seat was rightfully mine"

Read on ao3 Master list

One

There are two rituals Lily held sacred to her heart; they were processes that Lily thoroughly enjoyed and needed to unwind her day. As a chronic overachiever, Lily had packed her uni days to the brim with classes, clubs, and jobs, which led to a lot of stress. So, she found solace in her rituals. They felt like luxuries to her.

The first ritual was to walk to the coffee shop and get the strongest cup of tea they served on the menu, piping hot and sickeningly sweet. Lily swore the second she took a sip, half of the day’s worries and stresses melted as the tea burned her tongue.

The second ritual was her bus ride. Her packed schedule had somehow miraculously worked out that Lily wouldn’t need to commute at the busiest times. Sure, there were still a lot of people, but there was always a seat available for her to sit in and wait until the last stop. She’d tap in, her headphones already playing an audiobook or her relaxation playlist, and sit down. She could sip her tea, stare out the window, and take these forty-five minutes to pretend that everything was fine and her life was put together.

But like most things, there’s always a bump in the road and not one that makes her slip tea all over herself.

It had been a long day. Tuesdays were her bad days, with all the bad professors and classmates. Then her job as a teaching assistant had been non-stop with crying freshers, freaking about their first big essay of the year. And she still had a few essays to get through.

She needed her peaceful bus ride like a soothing cream to a burn. She needed to recharge before she dived face-first into her essays.

The bus came, and Lily tapped in. The ground floor of the bus was full. Okay, that was no problem. She didn’t mind the upper part at all. She walked up the narrow steps to see it was always full.

Except for one seat. One precious seat.

But then a man in an orange puffy coat sat down in it.

Lily snapped.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice sharp as the bus started to move. Orange Coat, popped his headphones out, confusion was written in his eyes behind clear framed glasses. “This seat is mine.”

Orange coat’s eyebrows shot up. He looked around in confusion, almost he couldn’t tell if Lily was being serious or not, which she absolutely is.

“I wasn’t aware public buses had assigned seating,” Orange Coat said in a deep voice.

“Listen, this is the only time in the day that I get time to myself,” she sighed. “Just, please, can I sit here?”

Orange Coat assessed her for second, brown eyes flying all over her face, before smiling a bit. He stood up and offered her the seat.

“I don’t know if anyone has ever taught you manners, but maybe start with asking politely, yeah?” Orange Coat said, a smirk on his lips. “Please goes a long way.”

Before Lily could rebuttal, Orange Coat had his headphones back in his ears and was walking past her.

Two

To say James was having a bad day would be an understatement. Normal bad days consisted of accidentally forgetting your lunch or a textbook. Maybe even the occasional less than stellar grade handed back on an exam. But no, this was a Bad Day like a proper noun, because it had developed a life of its own.

First, he did forget his lunch, which was crushing because he also left his money at home so he wouldn’t be tempted to buy one of those expensive coffees that were way overpriced on campus. So no lunch, only a crushed-up granola bar he found in his gym bag. Then, he was cold-called in class about the one article that he had only skimmed and made an absolute ass out of himself in front of the whole class, feeding into the narrative that he was only here because he could play football and not based on his intelligence.

Then football practice came and his ankle decided that it was done with the boring life of being fine and he ate metaphorical shit during <i>warm-ups</i>. The trainer didn’t think it was broken, but now James couldn’t practice anymore until he got an all-clear from a doctor.

So here James was, hanging on by his last thread as he hobbled to the bus stop, still in his practice clothes with a wrapped ankle and grumbling stomach.

And because when it rains, it pours, he had to run to catch the bus, hissing in pain.

He tapped in with the doors snapping shut behind him and moved quickly to see every seat full. And he really did not want to climb the steps.

But then his eyes locked on Scary Redhead, or as Sirius called her in the group chat Bus Karen.

Honestly, he had no plans of holding that interaction against her. It wasn’t the first time someone was rude to him on the bus and was surely not to be the last, but now, James had every intention of using it against her.

“Excuse me,” James started. “I was wondering if you would bestow upon me the honor of letting me sit here, please.”

Scary Redhead’s brilliant green eyes snapped towards him and yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. He got the impression that this woman was not above stomping on him and leaving him to die. And honestly? She was beautiful that he would probably thank her for it, but that was a secret he was willing to take to his grave.

She scrutinized him, a frown on her lips. He gestured to his wrapped ankle which was now looking a little swollen. She sighed.

“Only because please goes a long way,” she said, standing up. “But now, we’re even.”

“Thank you,” James said, flopping down in the seat.

Redhead stood in front of him, grabbing the handle for balance, her eyes still scrutinizing.

“What did you do?” she asked, gesturing towards his ankle just as James was digging around in his pocket for his headphones.

He looked up, surprised that Scary Redhead would continue to acknowledge his existence.

“Not sure. I was at practice and it just went…” he made a gesture with his hands, showing the folding in a direction an ankle was not supposed to go. Scary Redhead raised her eyebrows.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be walking on it?” she asked.

“The trainer said it was fine,” James said, looking down at his ankle as it throbbed.

“Hm,” Scary Redhead hummed, ending the conversation.

For some reason, James wanted to ask her name, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. He already had enough bad things happen today and the last thing he needed was Scary Redhead getting scary again.

Three

Orange Coat showed up at the bus stop with a boot around his ankle the next time Lily saw him. Lily may value her routines, but she wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t going to fight him for a seat anymore on the bus even though she had mentally cataloged all the bad things, big and small, to help make a convincing argument as to why she should have the seat.

He had started to consume a lot of Lily’s thoughts lately without her permission. From making a mental list as to why she deserved the bus seat, to noticing when he didn’t wear his orange coat and that they rode at the same times every Tuesday and Thursday and he got off one stop before her. The sudden urge to know his name popped up one day as she grabbed the handle in front of him, not bothering to check if the top floor had any seats.

He gave her a small smile when he saw her and popped a headphone out.

“Not gonna convince me you deserve this seat today?” he asked. Lily schooled her feature into what she hoped was cool indifference.

“I’d look like a world-class prick if I kick a man with a boot on his foot out of a bus seat,” she replied, making eye contact.

He smirked. “Aw, good to see that my plan is working.”

“Your plan?”

“I broke my ankle on purpose to ensure you never got a seat on the bus,” he replied. Lily scoffed, amused.

“Well, maybe I’ll risk public shaming if this is all a ruse,” she said, looking away. “My reputation be damned if it uncovers a scheme.”

He tilted his head a bit, his dark eyes gleaming. “I’m afraid your reputation has already been ruined. My brother exclusively calls you Bus Karen.”

Lily was too affront to realize there were certain implications in his statement like he mentioned her enough to his brother that they had a name for her.

“Bus Karen?” Lily asked, her mouth hanging open. Orange Coat nodded, unbothered by her reaction.

“It’s mostly because I haven’t caught your name yet,” Orange Coat replied, running a hand through his already messy black hair.

“First off, I was having a really bad day. I will not let that be held against me,” Lily said, firmly. “Second off, my name is Lily. Calling me a Karen? Really?”

“Lily,” he said like he was testing out the way the name sounded. “Tell me what nickname you’ve given me?”

“I don’t think about you,” the lie slipped easily off her tongue. Orange Coat raised an eyebrow and she caved under his stare. “Alright, fine. Orange Coat.”

He laughed a bit. “Well, it’s James,” he said.

“James,” she replied in the same way he said her name. “Your orange coat is truly horrid.”

He frowned. “Hey now, it’s very warm.”

“It’s an eyesore.”

“It’s almost the same color as your hair.”

Lily scoffed. “My hair is not the same color as a traffic cone.”

“Neither is my coat.”

“Prove it.”

“Fine, I will.”

James ended the conversation by putting his headphones in and Lily couldn’t help but wonder why she was fighting back a large smile.

Four

Lily was standing at the bus stop, her eyes focused on the ground, and a to-go cup held tightly in her hands. She was chewing her bottom lip. James hesitated to bother her because she seemed so off from her normal self, but she caught the fluorescent color of his jacket and she took out her headphones and smiled a bit.

James smiled back and approached her. “I owe you the sincerest apology.”

“What for?” she asked her green eyes glinting.

“For doubting your astute observation that my coat is the same color as a traffic cone.”

He pulled up the picture on his phone and handed it to her. Lily’s laugh sent butterflies through his stomach.

“Your apology is accepted,” Lily said with a bright smile, the gloominess that James noticed was now gone. He never wanted to see that expression from her again and well, if taking stupid pictures did the trick, then he would take millions of pictures. “And yeah, it’s literally the exact same shade.”

They fell silent, but James stood next to her. In his mind, they had upgraded from bus nemesis to bus buddies and Lily seemed to agree because she didn’t move away. Her gloomy expression came back as they boarded the bus.

There was a seat, but James turned towards Lily and gestured for her to sit.

“But your ankle?” she said, her voice soft.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he said, grabbing a handle with a determined look. She sat down and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you,” she said. “I… I had a really bad day.”

James couldn’t help but feel good at the relief on her face. He wanted to ask why, but that felt too invasive for someone who was just a bus buddy.

“This is your time to unwind, yeah?” he said. “Unwind.”

She smiled and put her headphones back in. When the person next to her got off at the next stop, she tugged lightly on his sleeve and patted the seat. James sat next to her with a smile and his heart skipped a beat when their knees brushed.

Just before his stop, Lily popped a headphone out of her ear.

“Do you have social media?”

“Yeah,” James said, hating how his voice came out slightly breathless.

They exchanged handles and the second James got home, he opened his extensive meme collection and started sending some to her, delighted that she replied a few minutes later.

James’s palms were sweating against the heat of the cup in his hand. The bus was chugging along the streets of London and James was obsessively checking the progress of the bus and Lily’s reply that she was in fact, catching this bus.

He shouldn’t be as nervous as he was, but he was practically shaking. He knew it was stupid to think that his girlfriend wouldn’t be thrilled to receive a romantic gesture on the one anniversary of when they met, but Lily hadn’t mentioned it. And it wasn’t like she had forgotten their actual anniversary which was in a few weeks; they already had that date planned out, but would she feel bad that she didn’t remember this one? Or, would she think it’s weird that James felt the need to celebrate it, to begin with?

He was lost in his inner turmoil, debating between just playing it off as a nice surprise or saying “Hey, happy one year anniversary to the day we first met and you aggressively told me that I was sitting on your seat.”

That’s why he jumped when he heard her.

“Excuse,” she said, making James almost drop her tea. “This seat is mine.”

Lily’s smile was blinding and from the shine in her eyes, he knew instantly that she remembered. It still twisted his stomach into knots when she smiled at him like that.

He couldn’t remember what he said the first time, but he smiled and stood up. “I said something like ‘There’s no assigned seat on the bus,’ right?”

“How dare you not remember?” she said, taking the tea from him and sitting down. “We need to be able to share this story with our grandchildren.”

She had been saying things like that a lot recently and every time, it made James melt inside with happiness, knowing that she was just as serious about him as he was about her, to the point where she’s imagining their children have children of their own.

Lily tugged him down to the seat next to her and he obliged, pressing a kiss to her temple and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They normally weren’t so touchy on public transportation, but this day was special.

She rested her head against his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back. “Bus Karen.”

The elbow to the ribs was worth it.

#sorry it's late besties #i struggled #jilychallenge #April jilychallenge #jple #jily #jily fanfic #jily fic #marauders era #transportation au because why not

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starlessea · 3 years ago

Text

"Don’t Cry”

A/N This started off as a drabble, but I got carried away and it turned into a one-shot. I’m really happy with how this one turned out! Based on number #39 from this prompt list for @phoenixblack89

Summary: Daryl hates seeing your tears. He’d much rather see you smiling, instead.

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee

Atlanta High School.

You’d graduated a long while back — so long ago now that you’d forgotten the feeling of walking its halls, and having your shoes squeak against the cheap wooden planks.

You could see the rows of lockers you’d chatted by daily, and the one in particular where you’d shared your first kiss with a boy whose name you couldn’t remember. The doors of the classrooms seemed familiar, as did the posters on the walls which were the same as they’d been when you attended — something about washing your hands and remembering to vote for class president.

It was as though time stood still.

And, in this very moment, there was nothing you wished for more.

Daryl’s hand was warm on your cheek, and his thumb gentle as he drew faint circles over your skin. You leaned into his touch, the same way you’d done with that boy against your locker — not even a few feet away.

But this was different.

This was Daryl.

Your lips quivered, trembling like a leaf stuck in the wind. Your hands felt numb as they pressed against him, so hard that you thought they would bruise. But all you could hear were those damn lockers — their doors slamming open and closed as they caught in the draft.

Like a sarcastic fucking applause.

Daryl tilted your head up, gently guiding your gaze from his collar to his face, where your eyes caught his. And your breath died in your throat, before bubbling into a sob that rang out in the air like the Atlanta High School bell.

He was smiling.

“Don’t cry,” he said — in the most calm, accepting tone you’d ever heard a person speak. It lacked all of his usual bite, the gruffness you’d come to know and associate with the man.

It sounded foreign.

Maybe that was why, despite his words, the tears poured over anyway, and settled on your cheeks where he swiped them away with a flick of his thumb.

“I wan’-” he started, but paused for a second to grimace from the pain. “I wanna remember ya smilin’.”

You choked on another watery cry, shaking your head away from his gentle hold, as you returned your focus to his wound.

The bite on his collarbone was deep, gushing blood quicker than you could soak it up with the tattered remnants of your jacket. His skin was a stark, vermillion red, as were your hands, as was the floor, as were those fucking lockers where you’d smeared his blood as you tried to carry him to safety.

Everything was red, red, red.

You pressed more firmly, soaking it up with fluttering hands that burnt from the sheer heat of his skin. He felt like a match having been set alight — burning brilliantly beneath your palms as you tried your best to quell the flames.

Daryl rested his hand over yours, engulfing it. “Listen to me, ” he rasped — and you panicked at how much more weak his voice was sounding — “there’s flares in my rucksack.”

He glanced over your shoulder, at the abandoned bag sitting near your feet. It was stuffed with supplies from the school — all of which were now completely useless, and nowhere near worth his goddamn life.

Sweat beaded on his skin, and collected in the dips of his collar — like little pools of salt water.

He squeezed your hand. “Ya gotta get to the roof an’ flag down Rick,” he told you, his smile dropping from his face as he became much more serious. “He’ll come for ya.”

Your hands stilled over the wound for a second, easing their pressure as you took in the man’s words. Then he flashed those eyes at you, which begged for you not to argue.

But you did.

You kicked out your leg behind you, sending that backpack sliding across those cheap wooden planks, and making it thud against a locker. You didn’t need the flares.

You just needed Daryl.

“I can’t-” you yelled, but your voice split, and the man quickly hushed you before it got too loud. After all, the dead had you surrounded. “I’m not leaving you behind,” you spluttered.

Your tone was frantic, panicked, desperate.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding underneath your palms, where you pressed down against it. It was as though you held his heart in your hands — and he’d probably argue that you always had.

Daryl shook his head smally, careful not to disturb the bite further. “An’ ya can’t take me with ya,” he replied.

No, you thought, you would carry him out if it killed you, you would fight your way through, and get him to the infirmary, and you could-

“I ain’t gonna make it, baby girl,” he whispered, “‘m sorry.”

And you broke.

Suddenly, you were aware of the flickering overhead lights that made his skin look so clammy, so sickly. You were conscious of the blood smear trail he’d left behind — that vibrant scarlet which reminded you of a burning sunset — and the pounding at the doors, and the feet squeaking on those floorboards like the lunchtime rush between classes.

“You will!” you yelled, not at all caring about how loud you’d gotten. “You have to, Daryl,” you cried, pleadingly.

His hand felt so warm that it made yours seem cold. It felt like you were the one dying — your heart shattering each time he took a wheezed breath, or flinched in pain.

“How am I-” you asked, but by now your voice had tapered off to a mere whisper. You shook your head. There was no question about it. “I can’t go on without you,” you told him.

You could hear the blood rushing to your ears as your breaths got away from you — too shallow and too sparse. Daryl looked worse each passing minute, his olive skin now a translucent grey.

He took both of your hands in his, making you drop your jacket, as blood seeped through the material of his shirt. You tried to fight against him, eyeing the trail of red as it ran along his collar like a stream, but he kept a hold of your wrists firmly — with the little strength he had left.

“Ya can,” he growled — the grit to his voice causing you to instantly still — “an’ ya will.”

And he flashed those eyes at you again, but this time they had his usual spark behind them.

“Yer the damn strongest woman I e’er met,” he went on, letting his grip loosen on your wrists ever so slightly, “‘m jus’ happy a dumb ol’ redneck like me got to spend a couple good years with ya.”

Then, he smiled.

“It was fun.”

He let your hands drop out of his, no longer having any fight left. But instead, you used them to clamber onto his lap, wrapping them around his torso as you buried your head deep into his chest — his warm, red chest.

“Please don’t talk like that!” you cried, your words muffled by his clothes and lost to his skin.“I’m not going anywhere! I want to stay with you-”

“Nah, that ain’t happenin’,” he snapped — but his hand remained light on your head, gently stroking your hair in his attempts to calm you. “I swear to god, I’ll haunt yer ass if ya dare pull somethin’ tha’ stupid.”

But you grabbed onto his shirt until your knuckles flashed white, bunching up the material in your fists like you couldn’t bear to part with it. It smelt like him — underneath the coppery scent of fresh blood.

Slowly, he tried to coax you out, but you could feel the way his hands shook, and it only made everything worse. Those hands had always been strong — had always been the ones to pick you up and set you back on your feet every time you fell.

“Look a’ me,” he pleaded, his voice croaky. He tilted your chin up again, in the same way he did every time he went to kiss you — and it made your heart hurt, because no kiss followed. “C’mon now, don’ cry,” he whispered, his breath much too hot against your skin, “‘m here.”

“But you won’t be,” you wailed, the words startling you as they crept out from your mouth.

You hadn’t wanted to admit them.

“But I am now,” Daryl replied, just as quick. “So please jus’ smile for me, would ya?”

His hand fell down to your waist, before rubbing small circles in the small of your back — just how he did every morning to wake you up.

You couldn’t do it, but you needed to do it.

For Daryl.

You uncurled yourself from his chest, and wiped away the fresh tears with your shirt, blinking away the rest. You moved in his lap until you were face to face, trying not to catch a glimpse of his wound which continued to pour red.

Then, you finally smiled back at him.

It was wobbly, and forced, but it was wide — and full of love.

“Atta girl,” he choked back, his voice breaking for the first time.

You couldn’t tell whether his glassy eyes were from the fever, or the pain, or from you, but you bit your lip either way.

Don’t cry, you told yourself, and watched as he did.

“Yer so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, raising his thumb to the corner of your lips. It was as callous as always, but at this moment it only felt soft. “I was one lucky son o’ a bitch,” he declared, with a warm smile.

You raised your hands in return, cupping his face and feeling his beard tickle over your palms — thinking back to the times you complained at how unkempt it was. His forehead dropped down onto yours, and the heat from his skin radiated outwards, setting you ablaze as you touched.

“I love you, Dixon,” you confessed, as though it were the first time and not the last. “Now and always.”

The overhead lights hummed as they flickered like camera flashes, and the pounding at the door became more incessant.

So, you drowned everything out with a press of your lips to his — as Daryl tilted your head up in the way he always did, and gave you one final kiss which tasted like seasalt and copper. It was underneath the locker where you’d had your first kiss, but now it marked your last one with the man you loved most in this world.

“Me too,” Daryl whispered, as you broke apart. He glanced over your shoulder once again, at the discarded backpack across the hall. “Now get outta here before they break through.”

You stumbled to your feet violently, needing a strong, stark shock to actually be enough to pull you away from the man for good.

And you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t. If you so much as caught a glimpse of those angel wings or heard as little as a breath escape his mouth, you wouldn’t have left.

And that would’ve killed Daryl in more ways than one.

So, you retrieved the backpack, and opened the fire escape door a few feet away, before slipping behind it, and sliding down to your knees.

The concrete cut your skin open, and once again you were confronted with red.

A cry escaped you, which morphed into a wail as you clutched your chest and tried to fix the bleeding happening inside it — the red that you couldn’t see.

But a shout startled you, and ceased your sobs as soon as they sounded.

“Don’ cry!” Daryl’s voice yelled, muffled by the metal door but still strong, and guttural, and fierce. “I can hear ya!”

So, you picked yourself back up, and set yourself on your feet in the same way he’d taught you how — and you ran for the roof, flare in hand.

Atlanta High School always had the best rooftop view.

The sunset stretched out in the distance, one of brilliant vermillion, and warm, copper orange. The balcony was the same as you remembered, with high metal railings to keep students from jumping, or getting too close to that view.

This roof had been the place where you’d yelled about hating this place, this town, this state — and had cried out to the sky about wishing to anywhere but here.

But now you didn’t want to leave.

Because your everything was right here.

You held the flare in your hand, wondering what colours it would burst and illuminate the sky — whilst praying it would be anything other than red.

You let off the flare, and a single gunshot followed.

End.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N Blame Jess and Shannon for the increase in angst.

But I’m glad to be getting more comfortable with writing it!

How did you guys find this one? I actually think it’s one of my personal faves? Please let me know :)

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole @whitexwingedxdoves @potatochic2003 @suranne-doesstuff @witch-of-letters @sweatywildpanda @daryldixonstorm @btsiguess-kpop @dead-leviathan @reichelhache @thatmemechick @lokiswhqre @marylimlp @jodiereedus22 @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @deadthewalking @abbyz28 @pandorahurtsx @mileysnavely @wceasley @abzidabzy @caelys @chiliiscereal @2257-blr @i-knowyou @daryloverdixon @sunnyjellybean @potplantbedspread @alkeino @trash-dino-5000 @odys @m3l4t7n1n @captainbobbybarnes @huffledor-able541 @byakugan-breathing

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years ago

Note

Hiya! I'd like to be either ✨ or 💞 anon if that's okay <3 I was thinking just some general Technoblade X transmasc reader content? Like maybe Techno comes home one day and the reader is feeling a little dysphoric so he gives them lots of cuddles? He/they pronouns please! As a trans guy I'd really appreciate it <3

Yes. I will need to know which one you want more. For your anon symbol. Because I dont have any right now. So all is open.

Also yes to the technoblade ask. As a trans masc myself I feel like I would need this too. And all asks except for NSFW are welcome.

Pronouns: he/him/they/them

Summary: reader is having a bad day of dysphoria and didnt want to bother techno due to the fact he has been busy.

C!Technoblade x transmasc! reader

Techno has been out and about lately. He's been having issues with security and people have been wanting to fight him more lately too. All to get to you and take you away from him.

Yet he was the one that listened. He was the one that protected you. He was the one that actually loved you. Ever since you were a child you two have known each other and you both were childhood sweethearts.

You stuck by him when the voices started. You promised you would stay until they ended too.

He even respected your pronouns after coming out. He still loved you. You were his boyfriend now.

You're now his prince. His handsome boy. His stud. His boo.

He doesnt care what you have called him all he cares is to make you feel happy and comfortable.

So when he walks into the snow covered cabin. Seeing you shift every other way just to get what looked like comfortable he felt his heart sink slightly.

Taking off the bloody Cape and resting his trusty sword into its locking case he walked up to the couch. Was someone rude to you? Did someone threaten you? Worse yet did someone hurt you.

Ruffling your hair he sniffed the air around you. Only to smell no blood. Good there were no physical wounds. You looked up to him.

His pink skin covered in fur. His thick mane of hair that was darker then his skin and fur. The tusks that poke out of his mouth. The golden crown.

Why couldnt you have that masculine of a build? It's all you thought of lately. Why couldnt you feel happy with where you were at right now.

Why couldnt you even make peace with it for now?

"My prince." His voice was rough.

Like you wanted yours to be.

"Is it a bad day that's making my prince grumpy or did someone say something?" You hummed lowly.

"Do you want cuddles? Hot coco? Coffee? Tea? Ice cream? Chocolate? Warm blanket? A story? To rant? Anything you want you can have it." His voice went from rough back to that smooth and comforting tone.

"Hot coco, ice cream, blanket, cuddles, and story." With his snout and lips pressing to you forehead he was quick to heat the milk up, grab a blanket, and the most recent book he was reading. Pouring two glasses of the hot chocolate he placed them on the coffee table. You were his safe place so he had to be yours.

Lifting you up he was quick to fall to the couch, you onto of his chest. The fire was lit, you and techno under a nice warm blanket, hot chocolate on the table cooking down. And techno picking up the book.

Pulling on his glasses he was fast to find the last words he left off on.

His voice felt soothing. His body warmed you fro. The outside in. "I just hate that I dont look manly." He stopped reading. "What?" He voice was deepening from anger.

"Who told you this?! You're one of the strongest, most manly man i have ever met! All the others a fucking pussies. You can take my down in a fight. You are the blood king and nothing will change that. Also if this is about your weight I love ever bit of you. Be there a bit of fluff or not."

His arms got tighter as he started to rant. Smiling slightly you burried your head into his fluffy neck.

"Now relax. Drink your hot coco and enjoy the book. I want you to be as relaxed as possible." What the hell would you do without him.

Yes sometimes comparing yourself to this blood god made you feel dysphoria but just knowing he saw you as only a man. His man. Even a king.

Blood king was a new one. But it made you feel better. He and his voices saw you as a king.

"You know the voices were absolutely correct. You are my blood king. The only type of monarchy I can love truly. One a king never not a king my love." Humming you hugged him a bit tighter.

Comfort. That was all you needed.

I'm gonna apologize for it being short. It was suppose to have CC! Techno too but I'm seperating them so I dont make you guys wait too long! So here is part 1 of technoblade x trans masc reader.

We also hit 200 followers. Nice.

Next is CC! Technoblade.

Eli out!!

#techno x reader #mcyt fluff #techno mcyt #mcyt #piglin techno #technoblade x reader #technoblade #dream smp techno #technoblade mcyt #dsmp techno

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milkiane · 4 years ago

Text

radio silence

pairings: fred weasley x fem!reader

warnings: character death, panic attacks, grief, mental breakdowns, tell me if i missed anything.

word count: 1676

note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGST for @love-peachh’s writing challenge

“hello there! you’ve reached fred and y/n weasley’s fellyto--”

“fred, it’s called a telephone,”

“--fellytone. unfortunately, we can’t come to the phone right now, so leave us a message after the beep!”

beep. beep. beep.

a long excruciating silence was the only thing surrounding your dark and gloomy room after that. you sighed, turning the dials to give it another call.

“hello there! you’ve reached fred and y/n weasley’s fellyto--”

“fred, it’s called a telephone,”

“--fellytone. unfortunately, we can’t come to the phone right now, so leave us a message after the beep!"

it doesn’t make any sense. nothing makes sense.

you should really change your answering machine, because it doesn’t make any sense anymore. it’s not fred and y/n weasley’s fellytone anymore. it’s just y/n weasley’s telephone now.

but it’s the only way you could hear his voice again.

you sniffed. click, click, click.

“hello there! you’ve reached fred and y/n weasley’s fellyto--”

“fred, it’s called a telephone,”

“--fellytone. unfortunately, we can’t come to the phone right now, so leave us a message after the beep!”

it’s been five months. five months without fred. five months without the light of your life.

it’s ridiculous, honestly. how you still haven’t moved on from what had happened.

fred always told you how he admired you for being strong. you knew that he would be disappointed if he was watching you right now, how the love of his life is nothing but a tiny ball of misery.

so you took a bath and cleaned yourself up, making sure to spray an extra amount of perfume that fred loves. loved.

you shook your head, walking towards your mirror. you plastered on a smile. because today is a brand new day, you aren’t going to walk around with your head down. you aren’t going to feel so blue today. for him.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

it faltered away. clenching your jaw, you stared into your reflection.

how can you be such a selfish person? how can you still manage to smile when you’re alive and fred is not?

you took a shaky breath, placing a hand on the mirror. you touched it ever so lightly, letting your fingertips caress the cold surface before smashing the glass. you broke down, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you sobbed on the heap of the floors, shards of glass prickling your skin.

i’m sorry, freddie, maybe next time.

you brought the cups with you when you made your way towards the living room. one was a cup of coffee with the right amount of milk, and the other one was a cup of tea with a spoonful of honey and a cube of sugar.

you placed the cup of tea on the table’s coaster, making yourself comfortable on your couch.

you took a sip of your coffee, watching the steam of the unattended cup of tea slowly rise. looking around your silent house, your eyes stopped on the muggle radio fred had bought the time you went on a date in muggle london.

you set down your warm drink down on the coffee table. slowly dragging yourself towards the device. you held it in your hands, trying to turn it on as you sat back on the couch.

“and we'll build this love from the ground up,

for worse or for better,

and I will be all you need,”

you gasped, tears welling in your eyes the moment the music enveloped you. your hands shakily tried to turn off the radio.

of all the songs that could play, they chose to play your song. the song you and fred would always slow dance to.

when your trembling fiddles did nothing to stop the noise, you whimpered, dropping it on the carpeted floor. your hands immediately finding home by covering your ears, whispering a chorus of no’s and stop’s to yourself.

and as if sensing that you were in distress, george apparated in with a pop, inviting himself in for his usual visit.

he ran towards you immediately, trying to figure out what was triggering your attacks. you were already doing so well. you haven’t had any attacks or meltdowns for a few weeks now.

“what’s wrong, y/n?” george asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

“turn it off,” you whispered, “please turn it off.”

george looked around, his gaze falling onto the radio. truthfully, he didn’t know how it worked. it wasn’t like the old one his dad owned, so he just twisted and turned every button there is, consequently making the music grow louder than before.

you cried, frustration and anguish taking over you as you snatched it off his hands and threw it against the wall.

realizing what you did, you sobbed, rushing over the broken pieces, “no, no, i’m sorry,” you looked at the frozen man in your living room, “fix it george, please,”

snapping out of his state, he walked towards you, trying to remember the simple spell to repair the broken apparatus, “i-”

“george, please, i’m sorry,” you continued to weep beside him, tears still falling down stubbornly no matter how many times you’ve tried to wipe them away.

he sighed in exasperation, “give me a moment, y/n,”

once he remembered what the spell was, he immediately placed the radio away. george looked at you in sadness, fishing out the emergency draught.

“no, george,” you shook your head, retreating backward until your back was against the wall, “no, we don’t- i don’t need that anymore,”

george’s heart broke as he watched you gasp out for air, tears relentlessly falling down your cheeks, “shh, please don’t cry, y/n,”

he immediately tackled you on the floor, wrapping an arm around you to prevent you from thrashing around as he forced the draught down your throat.

george waited a few moments for you to calm down and let the potion do its work. he thought you were okay now, you were doing so well.

he sighed, carrying your body towards your bedroom.

george was seated on the sofa near your bed. fred thought it was necessary for the room, though it hasn’t really been used until now. he was reading one of your books when you woke up.

“it’s our anniversary today,” you murmured, your voice raspy from your breakdown and from just waking up. george looked at you, but your eyes were focused on the calendar affixed on the wall.

NOVEMBER 20th.

george stayed quiet, so you continued to speak, your words still being slurred from the effects of the potion, “i wish i could fix my calendar, y’know? because there’s no more freddie, meaning there’s no more anniversary.”

he sat beside you on the bed, letting you sob on his shoulder, offering silent company.

“i’m so exhausted, george,” you cried, clutching his sweater, “i can’t keep playing pretend. i can’t- i can’t,”

“shh, it’s alright,” truthfully, george doesn’t know what else to do, he doesn’t know what else to say, not when he’s going through the same pain you’re feeling.

“he’s always in my mind. i can see him everywhere. everything reminds me of him, and how it used to be and it hurts,” you cried, “it hurts and i just want the pain to stop, just make it stop, georgie,”

george was crying by now, his body shaking as he held yours, “i wish i could, y/n, i really do,”

when you were certain that george was already sleeping somewhat peacefully in the guest room, you sneaked out of your own with your blanket wrapped around you.

you turned the lamp on once you’ve reached the living room. sitting down, you composed yourself, trying to convince yourself that you wouldn’t cry again, for him.

with a last shaky breath, you grabbed the radio. you turned it on and gently lowered the volume.

settling it down on the mahogany coffee table, you steadied yourself on the couch, letting the smooth melody coming out from the device shroud you.

the lyrics of the familiar song going from one ear and out the other, tears yet again blurring your vision.

you and fred have been stuck in your kitchen, trying to bake a cake for molly. your flour-covered fingers tracing through each word of the recipe book, “hey fred, can you grab the-- ergh,”

fred laughed as he smeared the frosting on your nose.

you scoffed, dipping a finger in and smearing it from his nose down his lips. you smiled up at him, stepping onto your tiptoes as you gave his frosted lips a peck.

the both of you smiled through the kiss, “i guess the frosting is perfect now, no?”

“when we have a child, can we name them after constellations?” fred asked, still running his hand through your hair, “or at least their second name will be named after a constellation?”

you smiled, “of course, freddie,”

“after the war, we’ll start our own family,” he beamed, “i mean, we’ve got the house already. all we need now is our ginger babies.”

“are you sure they’ll be gingers?” you laughed, turning to look at your husband.

“us, weasleys, we’ve got the strongest genes, ‘course they’ll be gingers.” he boasted, flexing his arms to prove his point.

“we’re going to make it out here together, alright?” fred whispered, his forehead on yours, “we’ve got a whole new future out there waiting for us,”

“i love you, freddie,” you mumbled, pulling him into a kiss.

“i love you, too, darling,” he said, kissing your forehead before pulling away, “i’ll see you later,”

click, click, click.

radio silence. you sniffed, carefully setting down the device.

radio silence. the only deafening noise you could hear after turning off the radio.

radio silence. the only deafening noise you could hear in the house which was once filled with love and laughter.

radio silence. the only thing you’ve faced after losing the love of your life.

radio silence. because fred weasley brought all your happiness and lightheartedness with him when he… radio silence.

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @buckysbeloved @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

golden trio taglist: @bromelain-blessednereid @oldschoolkiddo @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @eunoniaa @acosmis-t @georgeweasleysbabe @gaycatlord-stuff @cedrics-grave @dracosgoodgirl @hufflepufflesbianthings @magicalxdaydream

#scheduled #fred weasley #fredrick gideon weasley #fred #weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred x reader #fred x you #fred x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley one shot #lovepeachh600writingchallenge #useramourtentiaa #tuserliane

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away. Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere.

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat.

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for.

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t.

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her.

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself.

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went.

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting.

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her.

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity.

It was just plain concern.

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case).

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before.

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further.

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation.

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week.

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month.

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created.

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother.

And a damn good one at that.

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception.

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded.

This would be our first flight without her.

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye.

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.”

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show.

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered.

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek.

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes.

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.”

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits.

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me.

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly.

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.”

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant.

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.”

_ _ _

“Reid?”

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought.

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything.

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her.

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?”

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.”

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.”

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence.

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently.

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone.

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.”

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it.

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now.

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia.

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia.

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave.

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave.

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!”

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year.

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained.

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.”

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises.

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever.

taglist: @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny

click here if you want to be added to a taglist!

#spencer reid #spencer reid pregnant #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #any day now

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

Text

The Moment I Knew (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Request: hi! i LOVE ur writing and i’m not sure if requests are open, but i’ll shoot anyways. Could you do a dean x fem!reader where she gets hurt really bad on a hunt and tries to hide it from dean because she thinks he’ll make fun of her or think she’s weak?(enemies to lovers idea ig) and he finds out because she faints in his arms or something and he’s just like so mad at himself for not noticing and he’s really worried about her during the healing process and she’s confused cause she thought he hated her and AH i’m sorry it’s so specific i’m just in a mood🥺❤️ (by @rxvxr), [Supernatural-Masterlist]

Summary: A seemingly easy werewolf hunt got out of hand & left you injured. In order to avoid Dean getting angry at you, you hid your wound from him. It was not as bad as it looked, right?

Words: 1,975

Warnings: language, a little bit of angst, injury, blood, fluff

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

“You’re not coming on this hunt.” Dean stood his ground. Your frustrated groan showed him that you were not giving up that easily.

“Yeah, I am.” you crossed your arms over your chest. He turned around & walked closer to you. His face was way too close but you would not step back.

“You can’t handle this.” he spat out with venom in his voice.

“I’ll be fine, Dean.”

“You’re annoying, do you know that?” he threw his head back in frustration.

“Likewise.” you joked.

“Dude, let her come with us.” Sam joined your conversation, seemingly done with his older brother. “She’s skilled enough. Besides, three people are better than one.”

“Thank you very much, Sam.” your smile only grew wilder when you saw Dean rolling his eyes. Maybe you had not been in this business as long as they had been. But you knew that you were good enough to tag along on a werewolf hunt. After all, you had learned from the best. Sam, you meant. Of course. Dean? Meh, he was alright. But he hated you so you hated him. It was as easy as that.

The hunt was harder than you thought it would be. Werewolves were not that strong usually. But you kind of did not expect three of them to be there. Which left one monster for each of you. How you ended up with the strongest one of them all? You were not quite sure but that asshole landed a few pretty good hits on you. Blocking out everything around you, you hoped the brothers were luckier than you. Right when you wanted to shoot one of your silver bullets, its claws hit you right at your stomach. You groaned at the sting but you were too shocked to really feel the pain just yet. A look down was enough to realize that you had been hit pretty bad. As far as you could tell, there was a lot of blood coming out of you. An awful lot of blood. But if you stopped focusing now then your cause of death would be a werewolf. You needed to focus. Your vision started blurring slightly. A loud gunshot made you flinch. Eyes widened at the now dead werewolf in front of you. Turning around to check for another possible threat, you were only met with a very pissed off Dean. He did not even acknowledge you. Instinctively, you closed your jacket to avoid his disappointed stare. Your wound was not that bad, you would manage just fine. You could deal with your injury back in the bunker.

“So much for you can handle it, huh?” Dean mocked you. Usually, you always had a comeback. Not right now, it seemed. The adrenaline from the hunt had disappeared completely & the only thing you felt was the burning sensation that was caused by your wound. Dean raised his eyebrows when you stayed quiet.

“Dean, let her be. We didn’t expect three of them.” Sam argued.

“Yeah & we handled them just fine. She could’ve gotten herself hurt.” Dean eyed you up & down, shaking his head shortly.

“But I’m fine, Dean.” your voice was more quiet. Something both brothers were not used to from you.

“Great. Then I won’t feel bad when I tell you that this was incredibly stupid. I told you to not come along but no…No, you said you were skilled enough. Skilled enough? That was worse than what an amateur would do, (Y/N). You wanna get yourself killed or what?” his voice raised & your eyes trained on the ground, too embarrassed to look into his green ones anymore. Not even Sam tried to argue with him. He simply went ahead & left Dean & you standing alone.

“I’m sorry.” it was almost inaudible but he heard you clearly due to the calm night in the woods.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, (Y/N).” he scoffed. You waited a few seconds if he had to say anything else. When you were sure that he was done, you wanted to follow Sam back to the Impala. The first step you took brought you dizziness. The second one made dark spots appear. Dean noticed you wavering & when you did not answer after asking if your were okay, he made his way over to you. Right when he reached you, your body was met with darkness. For a second, Dean panicked. But when he felt one of his hands sticky with whatever liquid, he breathed out a quiet “Fuck”. He opened your jacket & saw the three long & deep gashes adorning your stomach. Wasting no time, he picked you up bridal style & ran over to the Impala where Sam was already waiting. All the while, Dean whispered sweet nothings to you. You did not hear it but he needed to say them. More for himself, really.

“What happened?” Sam was just as shocked as his older brother.

“She did get hurt.” the man carrying you explained. “Come on, Sammy. You drive.” he handed Sam the key & got in the backseat with you. Carefully as to not hurt you any more. Putting more pressure on your wound, he hated himself for lashing out at you like that. He simply did not want you to get hurt. Hence why he suggested you staying behind. Well, it was not really suggesting. It was more like forcing you & then, when you did not agree with him, being mad at you. If only you knew why he was acting that way towards you. Tonight, the one thing he did not want to happen happened. You got hurt. Not because you were not strong enough. Dean knew your abilities were similar to theirs. No, you got hurt because he left you out of his sight. Usually, whenever the three of you went on a hunt together, he made sure to keep you close by. Not that he ever admitted it. Sam had picked up on that & teased him like crazy. You, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to it all. After all, you hated him, right? Having to look at you like this, it broke his heart. Mainly because Dean blamed himself. If he paid more attention, he could have avoided all of this. After waking up, you would hate him even more & he would not even blame you. He was the one who yelled at you. But wait a second. Why the hell did you tell him that you were fine, when in reality, you were in pain? Your injury was not really a minor one. He instructed Sam to go faster. The sooner you all made it back to the bunker, the better.

Your entire body was on fire when you opened your eyes. Your attempt to sit up was cut short when you felt pain shooting through you. Wincing audibly, you looked down. Only then did you remember what happened. The werewolf hunt. One of them sliced you open with its claws. Dean yelled at you & then? What happened then? You could not recall it. All you knew was that you were back in your own bed in the bunker. The door opened & your head snapped up. Eyebrows furrowed when Dean entered. You expected Sam but Dean? You thought he was pissed off still. If you were honest, it was kind of your fault. If you had told them that you were hurt right away then you probably would not be in this situation.

“Hey.” he whispered even though there was no need to.

“Hi.” you matched his tone, unsure if you were about to experience another scolding from him. Dean walked over to the bed & sat down, careful not to touch you.

“How are you feeling?” he did not look at you which confused you even more.

“Um…Well, I’ll live.” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you tell me that one of them hurt you?” his eyes locked onto yours & your mouth opened & closed a few times. What could you possibly tell him?

“Didn’t think it was that bad.” that was what you ended up with. A lie.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you. Why didn’t you say anything?” he repeated. Sighing loudly, you thought you would say the truth. It did not matter anyway.

“I didn’t want you to look at me like I’m weak or pathetic.” you looked down at your hands that fiddled in your lap.

“Why would I do that?” he was confused now.

“Well.” you glanced at him again. “You kinda told me to stay behind & I said I’d be fine. Look where that brought me. And I know you sorta hate me so…” you trailed off.

“I don’t hate you.” he wasted no time with his response. You stared at him questioningly & he knew he had to explain himself. “I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I’ve been an asshole, I know that.” you interrupted him briefly.

“Self-reflective, I see.” you teased playfully.

“What I wanna say…I just don’t wanna see you get hurt. And last night showed me that all of this can be over way too soon. I guess I was scared of losing you.” he admitted, watching you closely for your reaction. You were shocked at his statement.

“It takes a lot more to get rid of me, Dean.” you smiled warmly at him. Usually, you would have teased him but he was so serious in this moment, you did not want to ruin it.

“You’re one of the best hunters I know. It could’ve happened to all of us, this werewolf. Man…” he put his face in one of his hands, then chuckled. “I’m really bad at this feelings crap.” you laughed & shook your head at him.

“You’re getting better.”

The following weeks were different. The way Dean acted towards you was foreign to you. The teasing did not stop but you two shared another thing now. Though you had yet to figure out what exactly that was. Dean went out of his way to care for you which, if you were honest, was because of your wound taking an awful lot of time to fully heal. You spent a lot of days in pain that not even pills could numb. Sam was teasing the two & for the first time, you could actually tell that he was. Apparently, you were way too focused on Dean’s “hatred” towards you that you did not notice the younger brother’s teasing. The atmosphere in the bunker was not as tense anymore. The three of you lived comfortably together. Sometimes, you had to stop & think about your journey with Dean. It was actually the plot of a Disney movie. Two people had hated each other (at least they thought they had) until one of them got hurt & the other was scared of losing them. After that, their relationship changed into something way deeper, way more understanding.

“(Y/N)?” Dean entered the kitchen where you were currently sitting with a cup of coffee in your hand. You hummed for him to continue. “You’re still annoying as shit. You know that, right?” you broke out in laughter, Dean joined in a second later. Motioning for the cup you set up for him, he walked over & sat down next to you.

“Hate to break it to you but I won’t change.” you smirked at him.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” he pressed a soft kiss on top of your head & threw one of his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer to his body. Your eyes closed in content. This was where you were supposed to be. In Dean’s arms. And it took you both long enough that you could not live without each other. At least you had each other now. Finally.

Published (04/27/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @hollymac79, @spnbaby-67 (thanks for your support <3)

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stilemawillow · 4 years ago

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Hi can I request a dadlevi x momreader where they have a teenage daughter and the 104th cadet boys gave a crush on her and Levi gets really protective and the reader has to reassure him that she's not a baby anymore pleaseeee thank you😁

welp, i’m usually slow as a sloth with requests but if you don’t mind it being a short drabble i can sure as hell crack up sth soo sorry if it’s a bit too short but here goes, hope you like it anonie (also i kind of said trabble and it turned out 1500 words, sorry) ________________________________________________

“This is getting out of hand, Levi.” Your words were low around the table at the mess hall as your raven-haired husband fixed the cadets across from you with a murderous glare. You put a hand to his tense shoulder and could distinctly hear Mike and Hanji snort from next to you at Levi’s click of the tongue - still, his abuse didn’t stop.

Your daughter glanced at her father once, smiling happily from her place in between the cheerful males of the 104th squad and proceeding to be rather oblivious when it came to his foul mood. Admittedly, he hadn’t spoken about it to anybody but, as the mother of his rather grown-up child and the woman who’d spent well over two decades with him already, you didn’t need a verbal explanation to gather why he was being so pissy.

Since your daughter had been enlisted in the Corps (something her and Levi and you and her had had two separate rather long arguments about), she was in the spotlight, or, well, something of the sort. She was kind enough to communicate with her peers and funny enough to make them laugh, and the looks she’d mostly inherited from you did its part when it came to charming the rookies you’d later checked were named Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun, Connie Springer, Armin Arlert and partly, the very special Eren Jaeger.

They were her comrades and she regarded them as such - close people she would protect and work with in the future, and they regarded her the same with just a little bit of an ulterior motive. Naturally, parents were good at noticing those stuff and the usually emotion-incompetent Levi Ackerman was no exception when it came to Jean’s heart eyes mirroring his own aimed at you in the past.

As a good father who couldn’t, however, reveal his identity straight-up, he made sure to mentor the kids as harshly as he could, strict in his teachings and rather sadistic out of them. The poor boys had handled stable and kitchen duty more than any previous rookies enlisted and two or three of them had gotten lucky enough to clean up a whole storage of 3DM gear and run laps till they fainted. You were nurturing when it came to those undeserved mishaps and ended up playing the good cop who gave the poor boys water and let them sleep for the rest of the day.

Levi didn’t know it but the harder his punishments got, the more reason his daughter had to pity the boys and question her father’s behaviour. We arrive at a moment where he could no longer think of a suitable punishment to pull through with enough reason and, of course, your endless nagging on the topic. Your daughter didn’t need to know about this secret little bickering, as the cadets didn’t know she was your child and nobody but the superiors were aware of your relationship with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

“I’m just monitoring.” The raven’s excuse was laughable as you were leaving the mess hall and he literally stalked his daughter and her tall charmers to the training fields, where you decided to pull him along into the building and have a little talk.

“This is ridiculous, do you realise what you’re doing?” Your question struck nothing in him as he made his way to the second floor of the building only so he could observe from above the training the 104th cadets would undertake with Hanji. His hawk eyes pierced the window and the boys surrounding his precious little baby, and in that moment you felt a little soft when it came to reprimanding him.

“I’m watching my fucking child.” He argued with a grumble and crossed arms, making you sigh as you leaned against the window and observed his features. You could guess only by the pissed off twitch of his brow your daughter had been paired to combat with some of the boys he so disliked.

“But she’s not in danger.” You objected with a snort to which he rolled his eyes. “Also our child.” The addition made his frown more sarcastic, then you pushed at his shoulder and glanced outside. The sun was shining and your husband was silent - and you had to be a good wife and mother at the same time. “Now, I need you to hear me out. Our daughter is fifteen years old and she’s part of the worst group possible. Maybe we can concern ourselves more with her safety and happiness, not so much with the boys she has as friends.”

“It’s unacceptable for them to slack off this much, not to mention you’re defending her. You pointed it out, she’s just fifteen.” The emphasis was a cold slap in your face, then you were eyeing him pointedly.

“Levi,” his grey hues left the window for a second to lock with your gaze, “I was fifteen when I met you.” Your words made him suck in a breath but his obstinance had no limits when it came to his overprotective nature.

“All the more fucking reason for me to protect her.”

“No, all the more reason for us to watch from afar and let her live her life. She’s a teenager once and the fact she’s bonding with her comrades isn’t going to kill her.” The brow he quirked at you made you glare, then you beat him to speaking. “She’s not a baby anymore, we take care of her, yes, but we have to give her some freedom too. Otherwise, we’ll get a rebellious period and I can’t handle managing both your explosive asses once that happens.” His spiteful snort was provocative but his figure turned away from the window to glare at you - good, so he was buckling.

“My ass is explosive only when I drink too much coffee.” His childish retort made you chuckle - you took it as him admitting defeat by not addressing the issue any further.

“And when Hanji cooks.” Your joke called forth an eye-roll from him, then his lips pursed and you smiled at his pale countenance. “It’s fine being worried, she’s been sheltered her whole life and suddenly you’re forced to watch her form connections with people who’re not us. I would say, however,” your smile slowly curled into a smirk as you glanced at the training fields through the window, “she can beat up the boys if they annoy her without your help.”

His brows furrowed and his attention followed your gaze, and you watched your fifteen-year-old daughter flip the blond Reiner Braun over her shoulder with a move Levi had taught her when she was ten. He fell to the ground and, from experience, you knew how much it hurt when all the air was pushed out of your lungs in that moment. Next thing he knew, a foot had stepped on his dominant hand’s wrist and a small hand held a wooden knife to his throat.

In your peripheral vision, you saw the satisfied flicker in Levi’s orbs and decided he wouldn’t be arguing with you on the topic of this anymore. Also, he might as well spare the boys their duties. If his daughter could handle the biggest one this easily, she could land a kick to the testicles effortlessly if any of them proved problematic. You shook your head at the sight and how proud Levi seemed due to it, then you realised he was back to watching you.

“On the topic of us meeting when you were still a brat, are you insinuating anything?” You began waving your hands around in a “no” when he glared at the field, then at you. You’d just denied when he tactfully cut in with: “Far as I remember, you jumped me and you had eighteen.” You let out an awkward laugh and his glare got all the more deadly.

“Haha, about that. I actually lied so you’d let me.” The slow admittance slipped past your dry lips and you watched your husband doubt everything you’d told him in your shared life. You could see him recall everything and make sure he was in the right - except you’d been stupid as a teenager and twice as scheming.

“But your birthday had passed.” He argued coldly, unsuspecting of the truth and ever so sweet because he put so much trust in you.

“And about that, my birthday’s kind of a month after the date I told you.” You watched his eyes widen and began ranting, as per tradition when he came close to blowing a fuse and you wanted to avoid being collateral damage. “I know what you’re thinking, I’m so lucky that my wife is even younger than I thought she was, she’s so attractive and youthful---”

“I’m thinking how I’m about to beat your ass in our next combat session for lying to me for twenty fucking years, that’s what I’m thinking.”

#asks #drabbles #drabbles for anonies #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #fluff with a daughter #with a spin at the end #because parents are more iconic than their kids sometimes

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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 4

⚠WARNING: Swearing, mention of previous characters' deaths

• ────── ✾ ────── •

“I just don’t get why no one wants to help me plan the shrine visit and picnic lunch.” Oikawa pushes his now-empty plate away and turns his head. You share a look with Makki and Mattsun.

“We just don’t want to get in the way of your vision.” Mattsun replies. “You’re the most creative of us all and we don’t want to bog you down.”

Oikawa only glances towards Mattsun before glancing at you and Makki. You both put on your most sincere faces, hoping to placate your irritated friend. It seems to do the trick, as he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Well of course I’m the most creative. I guess I can plan everything and tell you all what to do.”

You smile at Oikawa, nodding. “That sounds good.” You enjoy the last bit of your dinner, keeping your eyes on your plate.

Since Hajime’s passing, there’s been a visible gap in your friend group. It’s not a gap that can easily be replaced or filled, but the balance of your group has been thrown way off course.

Makki and Mattsun try to lighten things up with jokes but most of the time they fall flat. And it’s not fair to always depend on them to keep the mood light when they can’t muster the energy to do it.

Most of the time you’ve remained silent on the outings. You’ll laugh at the jokes from Makki and ask everyone about their days, but nine times out of ten you’re hindered by the absence of Hajime to make meaningful conversation.

Surprisingly, the most consistent of your friends is Oikawa. But since there’s no Iwa-chan to reign him in, he has become the leader of your group - making plans, driving conversation and trying to keep your group from falling apart. The only problem is that Oikawa has utilized more...forceful tactics to get what he wants.

“For lunch tomorrow we’ll have to meet somewhere by the gym because I have training in the afternoon.” Oikawa states later, while everyone is leaving the restaurant. “And we have to get salads or something similar, I can’t eat anything heavy before.”

You send a quick glance to Mattsun, pleased to see Makki holding his boyfriend’s hand tightly. Of everyone Mattsun is the one who snaps back against Oikawa the most, unwilling to deal with his antics. Makki is the best at keeping him calm while you would try to keep Oikawa from escalating the issue.

“Oh, I can’t meet tomorrow, sorry. I’m getting lunch with my friend.”

Your friends all give you questioning looks - Makki and Mattsun look more excited (and ready to tease you if necessary.) But Oikawa narrows his eyes.

“Is this the same friend you ditched us for lunch yesterday and today?” His tone is accusatory and you inwardly sigh. So it’s going to be this kind of night.

“Yes.” You don’t want to beat around the bush but you don’t want to antagonize your friend with smart-ass answers. “He wanted to get lunch again so I agreed, I wouldn’t if we were planning on getting lunch.”

Oikawa scoffs. “You should always plan on getting lunch with us, Y/N.”

“Oikawa I think you’re skipping over an important detail.” Makki steps in, inadvertently stopping Oikawa from going off on you. But before you can relax he turns to you with a shit-eating grin. “You’re meeting with a guy?”

Shit.

Mattsun appears over Makki’s shoulder, giving a similar smirk. “Please elaborate, Y/N-chan. Who are you meeting with?”

“And when can we expect an introduction?”

You give Makki an annoyed look at his extra question. “His name is Osamu, and we worked on a project together for one of our classes. We worked well together so we decided to get lunch. It’s no big deal.” Your last sentence is directed to Makki and Mattsun, both waggling their eyebrows.

Despite their childish behavior you’d take it every day over Oikawa’s snide attitude.

“Osamu, huh?” Oikawa looks down at you with his head tilted to the side questionably. “How come this is the first we’ve heard about him?”

You shrug. “It’s no big deal, Oikawa. Don’t be a jerk.”

“Hey I’m just wondering why you never wanted to tell us about him.” He held his hands up innocently. “Are you keeping other secrets from us perhaps?”

You feel your eyes narrow and you can’t help but let a little venom into your words. “I’m not keeping secrets, Oikawa. Osamu and I worked on a project together, he found out about Hajime and I found out that he lost his twin brother, so maybe I’ve found another friend who I can relate to.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen marginally at the mention of Hajime and he doesn’t reply. His hands lower and he looks off to the side. You see Makki and Mattsun stiffen before Mattsun steps closer to his boyfriend.

It’s no wonder that people tell you not to joke about death or dying. It’s easy for people who haven’t understood how devastating the loss of a loved one is to make those simple jokes, because they’ve never experienced the instant the mood of a group plummets. It’s a powerful weapon, made to bring the strongest down a few notches. It’s one you wouldn’t ever use unless absolutely necessary, and even this time mentioning how you and Osamu were able to bond over your shared trauma was a slip made out of anger. But it was effective in shutting Oikawa up.

“Oh.” Makki says into the stifling silence. Oikawa still hasn’t looked away from the ground and now you feel guilty again for bringing the mood down. Twice in two days is not a record you wanted to make. Makki speaks up again. “That’s so sad, how did you find out about that?”

Here is where you hesitate, because you can’t say that you were texting Hajime’s old phone number and serendipitously the stranger receiving those messages not only is a student at the same university you attend but also lost someone close to him, and you agreed to meet with him for coffee after five minutes of your “meeting.”

“I think it just came up organically,” you reply, hoping you sound somewhat nonchalant with your fabricated explanation. “I don’t really remember the conversation exactly.”

“Huh.” Mattsun says. “Well if you guys are going to hang out more maybe see if he wants to come to our group therapy sessions. The next one’s in a few days.”

At this Oikawa whips his head up and glares at Mattsun. He doesn’t say anything in response to Mattsun’s suggestion but he looks livid. Mattsun in turn meets Oikawa glare with his signature, unaffected gaze.

“Okay, we’re gonna head out now.” Makki grabs his boyfriend’s arm and steers him towards their apartment. “Oikawa, we’ll text you about lunch tomorrow. Y/N, I want all the details from your ~date~”

“It’s not a date!” You call, but Makki doesn’t reply save for a little hand wiggle he sends over his shoulder. You sigh out loud and shake your head at your friends’ antics.

You turn to your silent companion, who has taken to glaring at the ground again. “Are you ready to leave?” He doesn’t answer you, not even nodding in agreement, but he stands straight and you both move together towards your apartment buildings.

Oikawa speaks up after a few blocks of walking in silence. “Did Osamu really lose his brother?”

“Excuse me?” You turn to your friend, appalled at such a question. “Are you really fucking asking if he was lying?”

“I’m just looking out for you.” Oikawa doesn’t meet your angry gaze but his voice has lost its disapproving tone. “Some idiots will lie to get sympathy or try to connect and get closer to you. It’s fucked up.”

Still feeling aggravated you turn forward and roll your shoulders. “I guess. But you didn’t see him. You’d have to be blind to take one look and think he’s okay.” His tired face pops into your head again, the look of a person just trying to scrap by one day at a time. It hurts to think about.

“Do you like him?”

You turn back to your friend, angry again, to see him giving you a calculated look. There’s something else there too, almost something like indignant hurt.

You know why he’s looking at you like that and it makes something in your stomach twist.

Oikawa is the only other person to know of your love for Hajime. He pried it from you years ago but had sworn on his own hair products that he wouldn’t tell a soul. In spite of Oikawa’s general obnoxiousness and seemingly fictitiousness, deep down he’s a very loyal friend. And even though he knew one of your deepest secrets, you knew it was safe with him.

But he badgered you for days on end to confess to Hajime and every time you told him no. He was annoyingly persistent, but not once did he say well what now? after Hajime passed.

You missed that annoying weirdo. You don’t like the possessive, mean and cruel Oikawa that’s taken his place.

“I don’t like him like that, Oikawa.” You say now, turning back ahead first this time. “He’s just a friend.”

You feel Oikawa’s gaze on you still but you don’t look back. He doesn’t say another word to you, save for a short remark when you leave to go into your apartment building.

“Have fun on your date tomorrow.”

He drops that line and walks away, leaving you to stare after your friend with your gut twisting.

Why does he have to do this?

Insecurity, jealousy, anger, depression - maybe a mix of all four and more. It’s partly why you’re giving him a pass for now.

Your phone pings when you get into your apartment, and you feel the tension from the day leave your body when you lock the door. You feel wrung out and you honestly just want to sink to the floor and just lay there.

Before you give into your urge to become one with the floor you pull your phone out to see who texted you.

If it’s Oikawa I’m going to flush my phone down the toilet.

But you’re pleasantly surprised to read the screen and not see it was Oikawa who messaged you. You unlock your phone to read the text, feel a smile tug at your lips and send a reply back.

Glancing down at the floor, it suddenly doesn’t look as appealing as it did before. You walk through the apartment, heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: And we get a bit more of a glimpse into Y/N's friend group, and the dynamic is.......not ideal. Hopefully the friends can work through their problems and help each other......anyway, thank you for reading!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito

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savagetrickster · 5 years ago

Text

Caffeine Rush (NSFW) | BNHA

anime | character: bnha | bakugou katsuki

word count: 17,845

Themes/warnings: 18+, aged-up, praise kink, blowjob, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, swearing, mild degradation, unprotected sex

The office building that made Ground Zero agency was quiet and still. The appointed office hours were over hours back.

Most staff had already retired for the day. Among the black, lifeless screens on the desks, only hers stayed running bright and full of words on its screen.

The cursor behind the word on the tail of her report was left to blink repetitively as she dragged her feet to the pantry.

Her head felt numb with mental exhaustion as the weight of the nearing deadline reared its ugly head once again as the dreading thought of it reminded her again. The uneasiness and brooding anxiety that it brought about was no help in elevating the stress on her.

Between her heavy thoughts about the report taunting her from her computer screen, her legs brought her to the coffee machine.

Her hand fell into a mechanical motion as it placed her mug on the dispenser and lifted to press the Espresso option on the LED screen.

This was her third cup...no, fourth. Wait, or was it the sixth?

It didn’t even matter anymore.

She just needed to get through one more night of slaving away to finish it, and she would be fucking done with this long-due paperwork.

It was stupid of her to procrastinate so much; now she had to pay the price.

In the lonely silence of the pantry, her weary eyes watched the dark coffee dribble over her mug, sending one central ripple across the smooth steaming surface.

Her hand returned its grip to the handle once again, tugging it out of the dispensing holder.

A yawn left her as she turned away and instantly greeted with a startled-

“Fuck-” As the coffee in her mug was sent swishing and splashing over its rim as her hand collided into something solid with a curt jerk.

The scalding sting over her hand made her hiss. Her eyes flew up with irritation, her mouth opening to yell.

And she froze.

Then her eyes widened, horror seeping in when she realized she was staring at the angry face of...Ground Zero himself.

Her eyes followed his gaze down to the coffee dripping off his pants.

Well, shit.

A hasty jumble of ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry’ tumbled out of her mouth as she placed down her mug on the countertop behind while her other hand tore a handful of paper towels.

Her knees met as she quickly lowered herself before his stained pants.

Maybe it was the nights spent over the stupid report.

Maybe it was the coffee.

It seemed that all common sense or whatever would have kept her from grabbing the front of her boss’s pants had died along with her overworked brain cells.

Her apologies continued stumbling out of her mouth as her hands worked in a hasty pace on his pants, her eyes focused on wiping away the spillage.

Too caught up in her guilt and her panic to realize anything else-

The warmth in her hands was trying to pull away.

The stuttering mess of curses uttered above her.

The stiffening within her grasp.

He just returned from a long day outside to take some stuff and his craving for the aromatic bitterness of coffee was what brought himself straight to the pantry the moment he stepped through the main door.

It was absurd to think he would end up being groped by a female employee in the pantry. The brewing words he wanted to yell at the woman with fell at every brisk rub down him.

Bakugou could feel the resisting voice bubbling in his chest growing quieter at every stroke.

Fuck. While this was bizarre and all to him, the jolting thrill running up his length sent a delicious chill up his spine.

A particular thrill of friction brushing over the protruding vein on his clothed erection shook his next breath out of him.

Loud and harsh enough to draw her eyes up to him, her hands pausing.

And was met with a flustered yet irritated face glaring back at her.

Her eyes drifted back to her hands blankly at where her fingers were wrapped around - something was thick and kinda...lengthy.

In her hands was Ground Zero’s...oh wow.

She always had dirty thoughts about her boss but damn, this was not what she had ever imagined herself doing.

Along with muscular, lean built and tall stature that could give models a run for their money, the bulge accentuated in his flattering, somewhat fitting pants was a big distraction for the females in his agency...or maybe it was just her.

Exactly as she had imagined, he was indeed...big in her hands.

And it was...

Her fingers tightened slightly. ...hard.

A responsive jolt accompanied by a hissing curse made her jump, slapping her with a cold splash of realization.

Shit.

That she was on her knees in her company’s pantry, caressing her boss’s cock.

Oh shit.

Her hands flinched away from him as if scalded and her legs scrambled to get her away. A bright, red blush colored the flustered horror on her face.

She was so fired.

So so FIRED-

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Her eyes raised to find him looking down at her with a towering glare brimming with impatience and frustration.

“You think you can just get away like this?”

“I’m so sorr-”

“Weren’t you just fondling with my cock?” His usual husky voice sounded rougher and breathless. “Who the fuck said you can stop?”

She stared, stunned. Wondering whether her ears were failing her as well.

But clearly they weren’t because she could hear an intriguing strain in his voice.

The struggle in his gruffness and the red eyes prodding into her sent a needy ache within her, feeling a gush of her arousal soaked through her panties underneath her dress.

A slip of her eyes from his face, a shiver ran through her at how his nipples on his well-defined pecs were poking through the tight clad of his hero costume on him.

Her eyes slipped even lower.

The huge tent prodding through his pants made her eyes waver and her breath quivered through her lips.

Was she high from all the coffee? Or had she officially gone nuts?

She wasn’t sure what, but she didn’t even want to care.

The man of her dreams himself was offering himself to her.

She could feel her body trembling with a strong ache. The long, yearning ache that had followed her through the years and pushed her to join his agency.

An ache to be filled by Bakugou Katsuki, the world’s second strongest man.

An ache to feel him shove his cock into her.

An ache to make her wild thoughts about him come true.

She felt the last straining thread holding herself back snap as her hands flew forward, immediately working on the buckle around his waist.

Her lips were stretched over his leaking cock as soon as it sprang free from his pants.

The pre-cum spilling over from his swollen tip smeared over her lips as she moaned giddily at the melting heat in her mouth.

The hand tugging harshly onto her hair dug even more pressure into her scalp as a throaty groan joined her muffled moan.

“Ye-Yeah, show me what you’ve got.”

A grin stretched across Bakugou’s face as he pressed himself harder into her, feeling his cock sink deeper into her warm cavern, her moans spiked with a choke.

“And I’ll give you a good one later.”

His hand left her head to join the other clutching onto the edge of the countertop behind her.

Her walls clenched to his words just as her eyes watered at the pressure pressed to the back of her throat.

Fuck, he was as thick as she had guessed. But she had never imagined he would be so...veiny.

She drew back and relished in the heavy pants and moans from above, tracing her tongue daringly across the trails of veins running along with his lengthy girth.

Her hands raised to join her mouth, adding on with tightening squeeze as she lingered at the tip of his bulging cock.

A slow, elaborate lick across the weeping slit on it, her throat swallowed with a deep gulp.

Almost instantly, a dragging grunt rumbled through his body.

Humming in delight at what she heard, her cheeks hollowed as she started to suckle heatedly over the hot running tip.

Within the firm grip of her hand, she could feel his thick girth filling up, growing thicker as she welcomed more pre-cum into her.

The husky moans from above light a smirking glint in her eyes as she reached a hand up his length and clamped over his balls with a teasing curt squeeze.

Immediately, the husky moans from him hitched with a broken grunt.

Her walls clenched tight at how erotic that sounded.

“Y-You take my cock so well. Do you think you deserve to be fucked by me?”

The small collected pool of her own arousal on the floor beneath her heated cunt was rained upon by another surge as her walls convulsed with need.

“No, I-I don’t,” His stiff cock popped free from her mouth, a slick thread of her saliva remained connected to its flushed, bloated tip.

“Bu-But Bakugou-sama, you deserve to be inside me.” Her eyes were fogged with hazy heat and her cheeks red.

Bakugou…

His cock spluttered another rush of pre-cum.

...-sama?

“I-I’ve been ready for you ever since I laid my eyes on you.”

His red eyes shook with his expelling breath as a carnal jolt rippled through him, his cock tightening even more with the growing pressure within.

“Strip completely,” His eyes blazed as he spat his order, “Get on that table and show me how much your pussy wants me then.”

Clothes were strewn on the floor in an irregular trail to the broad table sitting in the center of the pantry.

Propped by her arms behind her, her legs shook with effort to keep her thighs wide apart for him.

Her heated cunt wouldn’t stop leaking, trickles of her slick fluid continued to join the collected puddle on the table below as the man took his time to approach.

The way his hungry gaze sat fix on her weeping folds stretched wide enough for the chills from the air conditioner to tickle her.

Red eyes took in the sight before him greedily.

The clench of her eyebrows on her forehead

The way she bit down on her lower lips.

Her face flushed red and her breasts rising and falling with harsh pants.

And the way her raised thighs were spread wide apart for him.

“Look at you,” Bakugou stopped before her, his lips forming a smug smirk at the sight for the glistening trickles slipping out of her, “...Already dirtying my property with your slutty pussy.”

Her breathy pants spiked with a moan as he pressed two fingers to her clit, pinching it briefly before moving down.

A gathering of her warm arousal coated his fingers as they ran lightly over her-

“I haven’t even done shit yet,” -and paused to pry her sopping folds apart. “But fuck, you’re already so wet.”

A gasping whimper puffed out of her as his fingers pushed through the thick coat and into her aching walls.

The wet, lewd squelch dragged through the air as her wispy whimper rose to a drawn moan at the delicious thrill his fingers made as they bulldozed their way into her sensitive walls.

She found it hard not to stare at the way his erected, weeping cock prodded against his toned stomach. Wondering with a wistful sigh about how it would feel inside her.

“Ba-Bakugou-sama, I-” A rough shove of one more finger into her tore a startled cry through her words.

“You what?” His lips widened with a grin as his fingers curled and stretched teasingly within her pulsing walls.

“P-Please…”

Her eyes raised to his, staring back helplessly at the amusement in his dancing red eyes, trying not to give in to her aching desire to return to his cock. “...fuck me.”

Her struggle against her straying eyes was not missed.

“Aren’t my fingers already doing that?” His knowing grin widened. “Oh you mean...like this?”

His calloused fingers inside her suddenly sped, thrusting through her walls vigorously.

Gasping moans rode through her throat as fast, furious friction of the loud, lewd squelches accompanying his pumping fingers rubbed the heated air between them frantically.

The building pleasure within her was making her dizzy with euphoric fever as her moans rose.

Uncontrollable hot tears escaped her dazed, wavering eyes as she watched his fingers work heatedly between her wide opened thighs.

Her walls were convulsing, resonating with her urgent need to release the pent-up pressure inside her.

Not even coffee could keep her this awake.

The jolting thrills were shaking her overstimulated body. “Baku-Bakugou-sama, I’m-”

His fingers were ripped out of her before she could finish. A startled moan elicited out of her at the same time.

The slick threads connecting his fingers to her spilling cunt quivered as Bakugou brought his hand up, his eyes admiring the result of his work with a satisfied glint.

He brought his heavily coated fingers before her panting, parted lips with a smug, intense gaze.

“Clean up this shit.” His gruff voice was commanding and blunt.

Her lips immediately latched onto his fingers, hastily lapping up her own fluid. It tasted weird on her tongue, but she didn’t bother too much.

She could feel her body shivering with impatience and frustration. One big gulp down her throat, her eyes raised to him with anticipation, in time to see his hand run over his cock.

“I think it’s time I give you your little reward.” His eyes met hers. “Be grateful that I, Ground Zero, even considered putting my cock inside you.”

“Tha-Thank you, Ground Zero.” Her eyes followed his hand as it slid over his swollen tip.

“Bakugou-sama suits your mouth better. Eyes up here,” The edge in his voice hardened. Her eyes raised to his obediently. “Thank me properly if you want me inside now.”

A thrill jolted through her cunt.

Fuck, in her head where her imagination ran wild, he was always the dominating one but witnessing it with her own eyes...Shit, she never knew he could be any more sexier.

“Thank you, Bakugou-sama.” A sultry purr reverberated in her chest as she sighed giddly at the sinful sight the way his leaking arousal was giving away his own needs for her cunt.

Today was probably by far the best day of her life. The sex gods if there were any, were smiling down on her.

“Now, get down onto the floor on all fours.”

Her slick arousal cascaded down her thighs the moment she eagerly set herself on her knees. Her softly arched back accentuated her ass as her excitement ran through her throbbing walls.

A shuddering chill ran up her spine at the light brush of his cock across her protruding ass as Bakugou planted himself behind her.

His eyes narrowed at the gap between her thighs.

“Is this how you show me your gratitude?” His hand landed on her butt cheek with a harsh slap. She responded to him with a sharp cry as her body jolted.

“Open wider.” A sharp sting rang across her other butt cheeks as another slap landed.

“...And I’ll fuck you like the little slut you are.”

His words sounded so...hot to her ears.

With a shivering whimper, she obeyed, lowering herself with forearms propped shakily on the floor beneath her.

Her butt cheeks spread open as she pushed her thighs apart for him.

His breath shuddered out of him as he watched the quivering threads of her slick fluid stretched, following the widening space between her sopping folds she made from parting herself.

All these...

A strangled groan escaped him.

...for him.

The tight pressure strained in his bulging girth even more. Fuck, he couldn’t wait anymore.

His hand slipped up her arched back and wrapped itself tightly around the end of her long hair, her back arching even more to his firm grip on her, as his other slathered his needy cock over her dripping slit.

The delirious whimper shuddering down to her cunt fanned his carnal ache to shove himself in.

The tightening grip on her hair was her only warning before his hip shot forward. His cock plunged through the pouring flow of her arousal and buried completely into her in one powerful rut.

The bright flash of pleasure searing through the sudden big, wide stretch of her cervix forced a choked moan out of her, hot tears spilling out of her widened eyes at how thick he was.

“Fu-Fuck,” A trembling grunt shook out of his lips as he drew himself back through the walls clamped in a vice-like grip around him. “What a tight little bitch you are-”

His cock rammed in one bruising thrust, shoving an instantaneous sharp cry out of her mouth.

More continued to tumble out of her as he continued to hammer into her, his hand tugging harshly onto her hair like it was his rein.

The other hand in a clutching grip on her hip as his cock drove fiercely through her pulsing walls.

Helpless sobbing moans forced out her mouth at every rough snap of his hip. Her eyes nearly rolled back every time he pounded into her.

A sly grin stretched his panting lips as he thrusted mercilessly into her

“Too much for you?” A slap on her ass drew another cry from her.

Somewhere between his powerful ruts, his hand had left her hair and joined the other on her hip in a harsh grip.

His intense gaze glared into her as she staggered weakly on her shaky arms with giddy whimpers and groans. She was a slobbering mess beneath his towering stance.

“Keep up with me.” A growl ripped through his words as he gave her another slap on her ass.

In the smothering heat ramming between her clenching walls, she was beginning to see white flashes behind her fluttering blinks.

Blazing brighter and brighter as she felt his rushing cock push her fast to the edge. She couldn’t anymore.

It was too...

“Ba-Bakugou-sama!”

A tattered shriek broke her voice as a starburst of electrifying ripple shattered through her shaking body, her orgasm instantly flooding his relentless cock with her rich arousal.

The hiss sifted through his gritted teeth as Bakugou bit back a groan at the hot burst and her rapidly gripping walls that were engulfing him greedily.

Fuck. This was it for him too.

Along with the squeezing tightness around him, the overpowering load in his cock forced the rolls of his hip to grow hectic and furious.

Her fleeting moans joined his breathless groans as he chased his own release with a fervor blazing in his red eyes, ramming hot blistering thrusts into her.

His desperate thrusts were accompanied with slippery, frantic squelches loud enough to mingle with harsh claps of their slapping skin as his hip met with her flushed ass heatedly.

One particularly sharp, powerful thrust forward forced a growling moan shredding through his mouth as his hip snapped into her and buckled erratically.

A loud sultry groan dragged through her throat as she felt the bulging tip of his swollen cock nestle into the deepest part of her with a rough prod.

The hot burst of his thick rich seed spluttering fiercely inside her made her eyes roll back.

The back of his muscular thigh clenched as he held his spurting cock snug inside her, expelling a wavering satisfied sigh.

Her dragging groan ended with a delirious whimper as she relished in the warm fullness inside her, her walls stirring their mixed fluid with fluttering clenches.

One thought ran in her hazy head as she crumbled to the floor, amused and amazed.

That she had done it.

Her dreams came true.

That she had actually fucked one of the hottest men alive.

#bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #bnha smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #mha smut #mha bakugou #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #anime smut #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo imagine

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nameless-shrimp · 4 years ago

Text

SILENCE || CHAPTER THREE

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Deaf!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sexual content.

Notes: okay, finally. chapter three. sorry for the wait. i love gojo satoru. really much. okay, enjoy.

previous chapter.

He ran into you again.

Satoru was patiently waiting outside the gates of the school, wondering where Geto was so that they could both make their way to meet Yaga for whatever mission that they would be assigned to for the day. He sighed, kicking his feet against small pebbles on the sidewalk. He knew that he couldn’t be late for another meeting with Yaga, though he was very moody for some type of pastry.

Then again, knowing who he was, he wasn’t surprised at his sudden cravings. Not bothering to wait for Geto, he decided to make his way to the bakery that was a few blocks away from the school.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he glanced around his school. It really did look like a religious school, though the average human would think that, and then Satoru continued to whistle his thoughts away (ranging from wondering where Geto could be to figuring out the kind of pastry he was craving—so was it chocolate croissants or maybe, a pecan pie today?) despite the stares he’d get from people that would walk past him.

It didn’t take him long to reach the bakery, where Satoru opened the door to find that the bakery wasn’t as busy, most likely because it wasn’t a rush hour kind-of-time.

Not that he was complaining, though.

Satoru took out his phone, deciding to scroll through his past images of him and Geto grabbing dinner the other night. (Half of them were blurry, most likely because Geto was trying to take his phone away before the brisket was gonna burn on the grill).

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have anyone that knows sign language.”

The voice was audible, and it was the usual old lady that ran the bakery that caught his attention. However, he trailed his eyes up, gazing his attention to the lady he recognized before he minded his own business and he opened up some messages from Yaga-sensei, and as per usual, it had to deal with exorcising grade two curses.

Christ, a lot of this was starting to become tiring; at least, it seemed like a lot of people knew that Satoru was the strongest since everyone began to rely on him.

Someone in front of him left their position in line, so Satoru moved up a bit, scrolling through his phone as usual. He bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should’ve brought some lollipops with him so that he could’ve kept his cravings at bay.

“I appreciate you typing out what your order is on the phone.”

He looked up once again after taking a few steps forward, not minding the person in front of him as he was browsing the pastries. It seemed like the croissants were freshly baked a while ago, as expected from this place—it was the best; donuts sounded like a good option as well too. Sprinkles, icing, or maybe some sort of jelly filled treat. It really made him itch for a sweet, and he felt himself wrinkling his nose at the tasty thought.

“Gojo Satoru!” The old lady perked her voice out loud and Satoru shot a grin, waving at the lady who had her usual pink glasses and a bright smile on her face. It seemed like the person next to Satoru shifted a bit as they were fiddling with their wallet, though it wasn’t Satoru’s business.

“Hey Yuki,” Satoru greeted. “I’m not sure what I’m craving for today.”

“Would you like to try a red bean donut?”

“I’d like something sweeter,” he grinned.

The old woman chuckled, her laugh vibrating a large aura of positive energy—something that Satoru had always admired. “It’s no surprise coming from you. I can even make you a crepe if you want, you know? Chocolate and bananas?”

“Ah,” Satoru held up his phone, checking if Geto had texted him of his whereabouts, but it seemed as if Satoru had no update. He tapped his foot, debating if he should stay for some time to eat.

The person next to Satoru had dropped a couple of dollar bills in the tip jar, earning a welcoming source of gratitude from the lady. However, Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted once the sound of plastic bags had fallen to the floor.

Satoru looked down to see the customer that was next to him bend down to pick up the bags of bagels. He bent down to pick up two bags—it seemed like this person liked cinnamon raisin and plain bagels—and handed them off to them. “Here you go,” he sent off a generous smile.

The person in front of him tensed up and looked up at him, their hood had fallen down to their shoulders.

And—his breath hitched.

He didn’t know why, but it did. He wasn’t expecting to see you here out of all places, and it seemed a bit far out from the neighborhood you saw him at. Though, Satoru shouldn’t question it, because he did run into you at the nearby convenience store.

“Oh, hey,” Satoru knocked some of the confidence back in himself.

You glanced up at him and though you couldn’t see the color that was hidden beneath the black shades that were nearly at the tip of his nose, you could tell that he looked a bit surprised as well too. And Satoru knew that he was. Perhaps that he didn’t expect to come in contact with you but it shouldn’t have mattered anyway, you were nothing but a stranger to him that bumped into him late at night or that you were kind enough to offer him chocolate once before. It wasn’t that big of a deal and Satoru knew better than that, or at least, he thought he did.

He cleared his throat, smirk growing as if confidence had punched his gut and he straightened up his posture. “Nice seeing you here,” and his smirk grew into a cheeky grin.

Satoru’s flirty side was already making its way out and you couldn’t help but feel warm to your cheeks. And there it was; the sight that Satoru admired because it always fed deep into his ego enough to make him have that boisterous and barbaric personality, only because he knew that he was gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and outstanding in his own way. Getting these kinds of reactions were lighting the fire to burn inside him more; that arrogance that everyone was annoyed by yet for some reason, it was a part of Gojo Satoru.

“Yuki,” Satoru called out to the baker behind the counter as he watched you place your bought items in the plastic bag quickly—almost like you were nervous. “I will pay for this one’s orders.”

“How kind of you, sweetheart,” the old lady perked up a genuine smile and Satoru winked at you, where you gazed up at him and came to the realization that he was way too damn tall.

After Satoru had ordered some donuts to eat, he decided to ask you to sit next to him near the large window that had a perfect view of the street on the outside. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, gazing at the owners walking their dogs and the small Beetle vehicle that was parked outside of the bakery.

Every once in a while, Satoru gazed at you, and you’d be lost in your own head as well, staring out at the world that was outside of the window. He wasn’t sure if you were too nervous to speak to him—and he wasn’t sure where this nervousness came from, but he really wasn’t complaining; after all, he had this kind of effect on women, anyway—due to the fiddling of your fingers on your cup of coffee or the times that you bit your bottom lip, looking hesitant to even face him.

But Satoru couldn’t lie to himself. For some reason, he found himself a bit tense.

And it had to be because you never spoke a word to him after your previous encounters together. That had to be it.

Seriously.

“So,” Satoru broke the silence, tilting his head as he bit into the chocolate glazed donut. This caught your attention as you finally forced yourself to make eye contact with him—or really, you were just staring at black sunglasses, but close enough—and he pursed his lips. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You shook your head.

“I won’t annoy you with questions about it,” Satoru smiled politely at you before chewing the bite from the donut he took. “So,” he spoke with his mouth full for a moment before swallowing and continuing, “is there any way I can get to know you?”

You bit your bottom lip again and then reached for the phone that you had in your hoodie pocket. You began typing on the phone and then held it up for Satoru to see. His eyes adjusted to the bright screen as he read the text.

'My name is L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. :)'

“Likewise,” Satoru responded, placing his donut down on the plate. “Gojo Satoru. We’ve ran into each other a few times before.”

You nodded.

“So you remember?”

You nodded again.

“At least I don’t look crazy, heh,” he chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to properly have a conversation with someone that was not open to conversation. Satoru wanted to ask because he was used to having women touch his neck and beg for his attention all over, regardless of who it was—and there would be easy-going conversations here and there to break the ice, somehow.

But with you—clearly, you were different. And Satoru didn’t want to sound basic with that thought in his head. But you were—because you weren’t fucking speaking a word to him.

“Do you mind if I refer to your first name?” Satoru questioned, raising his brows. “You’re welcome to do the same to me—if you ever speak a word to me.”

You nodded, smiling a little bit.

Some progress was being made, at least.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if this offends you but—”

Before he could finish his question, you chuckled out loud, nearly spilling your hot coffee on the table and you waved your hand in front of him, trying to signal him to stop. You held up your pointer finger, informing him to hold it for a minute as you typed on your phone with your free hand quickly. Satoru raised a brow at this, but he knew that you were probably already answering his question—and really, he should’ve known you’d get asked this a lot.

You held your phone up to him.

'It doesn’t. Don’t worry. But I am deaf. I can’t hear.'

“Eh?!” Satoru fell back, completely confused by the text. He pointed at you while throwing his free hand in his tousled white hair. “H-Hold on, so how are you able to hear me?”

You fought back another chuckle before you turned to the side, parting your hair behind your ear where the visible sight of the implants in your ear were noticeable.

Satoru felt dumb. Because—duh, no fucking shit. Of course, hearing aids and cochlear implants existed.

“Oh, right,” Satoru pouted, pursing his lips playfully as he eyed the bakery in front of him. Suddenly, the green couches and the faint string lights were more of an interesting sight to admire—when really, he just felt pretty embarrassed. “My bad.”

You simply kept your smile and waved your hand around.

“So, do you not speak then?”

'I do. I just… don’t like the sound of my voice. I was born deaf.'

“I’m sure you sound cute,” Satoru grinned, completely satisfied with his compliment. And of course, you pushed your lips in a thin line and turned away, trying to hide the faint blush that was growing from your neck to your cheeks. The obvious light pink was a delightful sight for him to see; you didn’t realize it but you were definitely feeding his ego up, and Satoru liked it—a lot. “C’mon. You can talk to me, right?”

You bit your lip again and shook your head shyly.

He squinted his eyes a bit as he took note of your behavior. It seemed like you bit your lip a lot whenever you were in situations that made you timid. Satoru found this cute—or really, he wasn’t going to lie to himself, it was kind of hot. But he couldn’t say that kind of stuff to you, especially with how fragile you looked in front of him.

Satoru felt his phone vibrate and he realized that he received a message from Geto. With one glance, he realized that Geto had finally made it to the outside gates of the school.

He pouted. He wasn’t ready to leave you yet, but for some reason, he was interested in you. Satoru thought that you were someone he could play around with for some time—and yeah, maybe that was the move that he would be going for.

“Hey,” Satoru sighed deeply, pretending to act a bit disappointed—or well, he kind of was in reality, but he made it more dramatic than he really needed to. “Sorry Y/N. My best friend’s waiting for me somewhere. Do you think we can talk again?”

You nodded, smiling at him.

That bright smile of yours was contagious because he found himself smiling as well. It felt genuine, right, and he felt comfortable. Though no words ever came out of your mouth, he felt steady—which was good. It was a great start, actually.

“What’s your phone number? We should meet up more often,” Satoru suggested, a cheeky grin stretched out on his lips.

You exchanged numbers with him and he couldn’t lie to himself. He was thrilled—excited almost, and he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe it was because he scored himself another girl that he could possibly fool around with, but this wasn’t a surprise to Gojo Satoru. With that arrogant personality and beaming azure eyes that captivated the soul of others, he knew that he had it in him to get what he wanted.

Needless to say, the scent of freshly baked croissants never left his nose and for some odd reason, the picture of your smile couldn’t escape his head.

Once Satoru left the bakery, he was met with Geto, who was resting his back against the wall and he eyed his friend cautiously before he huffed a breath with a small smile on his lips. Clearly, he knew. “You got another girl’s number, did you?” Geto questioned.

“You got it.” Satoru snapped his fingers as he put his hands in his uniform pockets. “C’mon. You can’t act surprised.”

“Oh,” his closest friend rolled his eyes, dark hair swaying with the wind. “I’m not.”

“Really now?”

“Really.”

The mission was supposed to be quick and easy, at least that’s what Geto was informed about—and Satoru was informed as well. (But it wasn’t like the white-haired flirt even paid any attention to the messages or lectures that Yaga gives, anyway).

Staring up at the tall building in front of him, Satoru took one glance at his phone and scoffed at the messages from the previous girl he slept with, who was consistently texting him to come back to her place. He wasn’t interested anymore, clearly, and he had stated that numerous times.

Times like these were exhausting for him, but it made Satoru feel uneasy with himself, though he refused to admit it to himself no matter how many times he eyed himself at the mirror, admiring his own reflection but hidden beneath was someone that was afraid to open up about how he felt. And he always cared; it wasn’t like he didn’t—because he always did. It showed from his affectionate gestures with the women he slept with and how he’d always listened to them whenever they vented about their bad days before officially getting the chance to sleep with them.

Maybe he really was an asshole, toying around with their feelings. Yet, was he really? Satoru was lost in his thoughts—once again. The damn whirlwind of thoughts that seeped its way into moments when he needed to pay attention to the present the most, like the murmuring inaudible voice of Geto to his ears or feeling the presence of intense cursed energy coming from the building in front of him.

Geto turned to face his closest friend who was tucking his phone deep in his uniform pockets. “Another girl trying to hit you up again?” Geto asked, raising his brows.

Smirking to himself, almost as if he was the most charming prince, Satoru nodded and stretched out his arms. “Yeah, the last girl I fooled around with,” he explained before staring back at the building with the immense cursed energy that was radiating a few feet from the roof. “But it’s fine. I found someone else I can mess around with for the time being.”

Geto decided to take the first few steps to the building as Satoru followed behind. Geto shook his head and smiled to himself, allowing Satoru to furrow his eyebrows. “Can’t help but break more hearts, huh?”

“It's not my fault they fall for me. You know I always tell them I’m not someone that’s the commitment type,” Satoru scoffed. And Geto knew he was telling the truth too. “Hell, even you know that.”

“I know,” Geto responded. “You’re just something else.”

“What do you mean?” Satoru questioned, suddenly feeling a bit defensive.

“You’re a jujutsu sorcerer,” Geto stopped on his trail and then made a swift turn to face his friend with a serious look glued on his face. “You keep messing around with all these women. I know you don’t want a relationship, and you’re just being you but don’t play with me. Do these women even know that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer? Or, at least, you’re capable of the abilities that you have?”

Satoru didn’t say a word and he only looked away. Of course, Geto would question him, but now was not the time for a lecture. He shook his head and refrained from answering his questions, “we need to exorcise this little shit already,” Satoru groaned, walking forward.

“I’m talking to you,” Geto raised his voice.

“You’re not my parent,” Satoru huffed. “No, they don’t know. None of the girls I’ve been with knew about what I had or what I do or anything about me. I was just there to fuck and leave. I don’t even cuddle them or anything; I tell them these things. I always do.”

“It’s not about you telling them what you are and who you are and what you do,” Geto explained, crossing his arms. Seriously, Satoru couldn’t believe that this discussion was going on. He wanted this to wait for another time, but it seemed as if Geto didn’t have the patience—or rather, his mind was eager to know some things right here and there. “I’m curious. What if there is a time that you fall in love?”

Satoru held back a snort. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“It won’t. I can’t be in a relationship.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Satoru groaned loudly, where the noise was audible enough to echo in the abandoned hall of the building that they had walked their way into. “Who would want to date a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“Ouch,” Geto chuckled lightly, placing a palm on his heart. “Are you telling me that I can’t get any action then?”

“You know what I mean,” Satoru shook his head before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Unless the girl is a jujutsu sorcerer or can handle her own, then I can’t be in a relationship. Even if she was a sorcerer though, if she can’t be strong, then I don’t want her.”

“There you go, again.”

“What now?”

“Bashing on the weak,” Geto sighed, closing his eyes. “You understand that jujutsu sorcerers are here to help protect those that can’t see the curses or are too weak to exorcise them. But it doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with it, man.”

“Look,” Satoru snapped, letting his frustration show in the tone of his attitude. “I don’t have time to protect and babysit my girlfriend—if I ever have one, okay? I’m sorry. I just—fuck, can we talk later?”

Geto had a smug look on his lips. “Nah, let’s talk about this now.”

“We need to exorcise this little shit or else we won’t hear it from Yaga-sensei.”

“I know, but I find this more interesting.”

“Why you—” Satoru shook his head and then placed both of his palms on his cheeks. He felt his face fall into a flushed state; he knew exactly why he wouldn’t be able to be committed, and part of the reason would be that he was someone that really couldn’t protect the weak forever, let alone the person that he may end up with long enough to call his soulmate.

If that ever happened.

Satoru knew who he was as a person; he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of who he was, mostly because he believed he wasn’t capable of being in a relationship. The strongest and the idea of continuously protecting someone who was weaker than him seemed exhausting. It was a selfish thought, though he couldn’t blame himself; he mostly worried about himself rather than worrying and caring for another that wasn’t him.

Despite the obvious selfish thought, Satoru couldn’t find himself to let anyone close to him get in any dangerous situations. Even though he knew that—hypothetically if he did love someone—he wouldn’t let that happen, but he didn’t believe anyone should grave themselves in any bit of danger that the jujutsu sorcery life held, let alone an innocent person.

“Fine,” Geto placed his hands on his shoulders and stretched out his back. He let out a tired yawn before he glanced up at the stairs ahead, where the walls were cracked and the paint was chipped. Clearly, the building had been abandoned for quite some time, and Geto looked at Satoru with a pleasing smile. “But tell me about this new girl you’re trying to mess with.”

“Can it wait?” Satoru whined, portraying a playful pout as he bit his bottom lip that quivered.

“I don’t think so.”

“Man, alright,” Satoru sighed, placing one of his palms on the back of his head. “She’s really cute. She doesn’t talk at all, really—actually, she’s deaf.”

“What now?”

“She can’t hear,” Satoru explained, pointing at his ears and mouthing out words.

Geto looked at him with an irritated stare, clearly, a vein was popping out from his forehead and he huffed, “I know what being deaf means. But how are you even talking to her?”

“She talks on her phone and types out the words,” Satoru explained, scratching his head. “She has these implants or something that she wears and she talked to me about it today.”

“I take it that she doesn’t have many friends?”

“Man, I really don’t know.”

“And you’re gonna fool around with her feelings like that?”

Satoru whined, placing his palms on his flushed forehead. “Can we please talk about this later or something? I don’t wanna hold back on this mission.”

Geto had a smirk grow on his lips. “You actually want to get some business done, hmm?”

“Shut it,” Satoru said as he gritted his teeth.

“Fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”

“Fine.”

At least for now the conversation was over.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #shrimp: fics #shrimp: silence.fic

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meganwritesfanfics · 3 years ago

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Fresh Bruises (Josh Lyman x Reader) Part 3

Warning this story contains mentions of Domestic Abuse

It was another half an hour to almost an hour before Abby reappeared. Donna had fallen asleep her head resting on Josh’s shoulder. He knew he should be tired, he should be exhausted, it was 3 in the morning, and he had only gotten maybe an hour of sleep the night before. But he couldn’t sleep, he barely blinked because all he could see was Y/N lying motionless in his arms.

“Josh,” Abby started when suddenly a dozen secret service agents came into the waiting area. The staff knew what to do as they quickly ushered everyone in the room to a different waiting room, the commotion waking Donna.

After the room had been secured President Bartlett and Leo walked in, and Josh quickly rose to his feet.

“Sir you didn’t have to come,” He started but Bartlett just pulled him into his embrace.

“Nonsense Josh, have you heard anything?”

“The surgery went well.” Abby said and Bartlett quickly patted Josh on the shoulder with a smile on his face.

“But,” Josh said noticing that Abby’s demeanor wasn’t a happy one.

“But, her head injury was worse than they had originally thought.” Abby said and Josh sat back down looking up at her as a child would look up at a parent. “She’s in a coma Josh.”

Josh just stared at Abby, mouth agape.

“Oh Josh,” Donna said her voice cracking hard as she wrapped her arms around him, trying her best not to cry.

“What are our options, are their specialists we can see what…” Jed started as he and Abby walked down to talk.

Josh wasn’t sure when Leo sat down next to him, but the next thing he knew Leo was grasping his hand tightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to tell Josh everything was going to be ok. He just sat with him, letting Josh know he was there.

More time passed and Josh hadn’t spoken, hadn’t moved, hadn’t cried since Abby told him the news.

“Josh,” A voice spoke softly and he turned to see Leo still sitting next to him, but now he had a cup of coffee in his hands, Josh noticed there was another cup sitting on the table next to him. “Abby said she doesn’t think there is going to be anymore news for a while, why don’t we take you home so you can shower.”

“No, I have to stay, Y/N might…” Josh wanted to say wake up, but he couldn’t bring himself to because he still hadn’t fully processed everything that was happening.

“Abby is going to stay with Donna, they will be here when we get back, but Josh I think you would feel much better after a shower and a change of clothes.” Leo insisted

For the first time since they had gotten to the hospital, Josh finally looked down at himself. He was covered in blood, his white shirt was stained red and his shaking hands were caked with Y/N’s blood.

Before he even had a chance to say anything else, Leo was pulling him to his feet and ushering him out of the hospital.

Neither of the men tried to speak as they made their way to Leo’s car nore did they speak on the drive to Josh’s apartment.

Josh stayed staring at his hands trying to get them to stop shaking. His breathing was erratic and he was trying not to have a full blown panic attack, but it was incredibly difficult as he sat with the blood from the love of his life covering him.

“Josh,” Leo said as he looked over at him noticing the sound of his breathing. “Josh, you need to breath.”

“What if she doesn’t wake Leo, she is my whole world. I can’t…”

“Don’t think like that Josh, Dr. Bartlett is making sure that we get every specialist in the country on the case. Y/N is going to have nothing but the best care, Jed has insisted on it.”

“The President can’t…” Josh started.

“Josh, you are family, he’s going to do whatever he can to help you.”

The young man couldn’t help but get choked up hearing this. He had always considered the staff of the rest wing and the President to be his family. They had all been through highs and lows together, but actually hearing the word family come out of the Chief of Staffs mouth, really solidified everything.

By the time they had reached the apartment Josh had calmed down. He felt like for the first time that whole evening/morning he could breath.

The two men made their way into the apartment. Josh quickly rushed around picking up the papers and boxes that littered the apartment. He couldn’t remember the last time Leo had been to his place, or if he ever had, but he didn’t want him to see how terribly disorganized he was.

“Josh, I have seen your office, I expected your house to look much worse, Y/N must be a good influence on you.” Leo laughed causing Josh to stop looking back with a smile on his face. “Now go shower and get changed.”

Josh started his way towards the bathroom, but as he passed each room his mind began to flood of the memories he and Y/N had there.

It was 2 am by the time Josh had finally gotten home from work, and instead of going to bed, he immediately made his way to the couch pulling out the files he had brought home, to read over them before he had meetings the next day. He probably had gotten through 10 pages before he was passed out on the couch.

“Josh,” He heard someone whisper but he didn’t move he just kept his eyes closed, his hands barely hanging onto the files. Someone sighed as they reached down to grab the files out of his hands, and then he felt a blanket be placed over him.

In an instant he opened his eyes to see Y/N standing above him and he smiled as he grabbed her waist pulling her on top of him causing her to squeal.

“Why didn’t you come up to bed.” She said as she snuggled into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“I had some stuff I need to finish before my meetings tomorrow.” He yawned kissing the top of her head.

“You know that if you try to read those files this late that you are just going to fall asleep. You always do.” She giggled.

“And you are always there to tuck me in. Maybe that's the real reason I do it.”

“You are quite a frustrating man Joshua Lyman.”

“But you love me none the less.”

“Oh I do love you, I love you so much.” Y/N said looking into his eyes with such love that Josh thought he might cry.

“I love you too Y/N, more than I ever thought possible.” Josh said kissing her.

The two spent the night on the couch, and although he woke up sore, Josh still credited it as one of the best nights of his life.

Josh couldn’t hold back his tears as he continued past the kitchen

“You are not the only one with a career Josh!” Y/N screamed as she turned back to look at the food she had cooking on the stove.

“I’m not saying you don’t I’m just saying…”

“You are just saying that your career should always come first and that I should drop every single thing that I am doing to support you in your career.” Y/N hissed as she aggressively turned the stone off, turning back to look at him.

“Well yes since my career actually m…” He started but his eyes went wide when he realized what he was about to say.

“Because your career actually matters, is that what you were going to say Josh,” Y/N said, the anger completely gone from her voice. “Go ahead and eat. I'm not hungry anymore.” She said as she stormed upstairs.

“Shit,” Josh thought as he made his way after her.

As he cautiously made his way towards their bedroom, he could hear the sound of Y/N crying and he quickly walked in.

“Y/N,” He started and that’s when he saw her packing. “What are you doing.”

“I’m going to go stay with Ainsley,” She sniffed wiping the tears from her eyes.

“You would rather stay with a republican than with me,” Josh teased but Y/N just gave him a devastated look. “Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean what I said.”

“My job matters Josh, I know its not the life altering decisions like you make but to those kids, the ones whom I am their only voice during a time that is extremely traumatic for them, it matters.” Y/N said her voice cracking hard,

Josh quickly rushed to her side putting his hands on her face. “I know that honey, I do. I was just upset I really didn’t mean it. Your job absolutely matters. I am constantly in awe of what you do and how you help people. I brag about your job to everyone. My mother when she calls she asks how your job is going long before she even asks about me.”

Y/N laughed as she wiped her tears away.

“I was just upset because I really wanted you to come to the gala with me. I feel a lot more confident when I have you next to me.”

“Josh, you were plenty confident when I met you.” Y/N said as she back away turning back as she started to unpack the suitcase.

“It was a nice little act, but in realty, I feel my most confident and strongest, when you are by my side holding my hand, because I know if I have you I can face anything.” Josh said as he wrapped his arms around her waist burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“For how often you are an ass, you really know how to make up for it.” Y/N sighed as she turned around kissing him softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’ve learned to admit when I’m wrong. Because I would rather grovel for your forgiveness than lose you.” He said seriously.

Y/N smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“You won’t ever lose me Josh.”

By the time Josh made it into their bedroom he was a sobbing mess. Every room in the house gave him flashes of the beautiful memories he had with Y/N, and he felt like everything was slipping away.

Josh slowly rolled over, for the first time in a long time he had actually slept well. And he knew exactly what the reason was. As he opened his eyes he smiled looking at the beautiful girl laying next to him asleep.

Last night was the first night Y/N and Josh had spent together. And as Josh took in the sight of her snuggled up next to him, her beautiful Y/H/C against her Y/S/C, he realized that he was in love with her.

“You are staring, Joshua.” Y/N smiled as she opened her eyes smiling at him.

“It’s hard not to stare, you are so beautiful Y/N.” Josh said as he leaned forward kissing her.

“You are just saying that because I am lying naked in bed with you.” She laughed.

“You could be wearing 30 layers of clothes and I would still think you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Y/N kissed Josh again as she pulled him closer.

“I mean I’m not saying that you being naked in bed with me is a bad thing by any means.” Josh laughed as he flipped over so he was on top as he kissed Y/N passionately.

He kissed her for a while before the two broke apart and Josh stared down at her. She looked up eyes filled with curiosity.

“What’s wrong Josh,” Y/N smiled.

“I love you.” Josh said. “I love you Y/N.”

Y/N stared at Josh for a moment eyes wide. “I love you too Josh.”

As Josh got in the shower and he watched as Y/N’s blood dripped off of him and down the drain, he let out a devastated scream as he pounded his fists against the tile.

#josh lyman #josh lyman x reader #west wing #fanfiction #imagine

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

Fire on Fire by Sam Smith for the plot?

In Love With the Flames

I had a few ideas for that one, but I decided on this. It is not edited, as I don't have the patience to edit something this long. But who knows, maybe someday it will get done. Anyway, I hope you like it and I will be adding this song to my workout playlist.

I also apologize for the lenght. I cannot to the "Continue Reading" or something like that on a phone. So I also apologize for clogging up your dashboard if you aren't interested.

Warnings: character deaths, enjoyment of people in pain/dying, alcohol use, bar setting, two characters in-love (nothing inappropriate, just hugs, kissing, and "flirty" behavior), fantasy politics (with government of my own making), public shaming, assault and magical attacking/whump

Supervillain let out another blast of burning fire, allowing it to make contact with the glass building without any remorse in their veins. Actually, it made them happy, listening to all the screams and hollers of the civilians down below.

"That is an unfortunate mess," a voice spoke behind Supervillain. Supervillain whirled around, hands up and ready, only to be met with the fascinating face of Villain. Villain, the most gorgeous being with deep emerald eyes that illuminated even the darkest souls, also had their hands raised. Their own fire lapped on their fingers, waiting to meet its mark.

But the fact that Villain was a threat did not register in Supervillain's thoughts. No, they could not take their own hazel eyes away from the pure beauty that was encased in the said threat's face. The way their soft brown hair bounced as they sauntered over to the supervillain and the way their pink lips added to the tanned tone of their skin. It was a sight, but also a distraction from Villain's intent.

"What do you want Villain?" Supervillain asked, hoping their voice was quivering from the fact that Villain was so close.

"That was a movie theater," Villain replied, their lips turning up as their nose crunched. Supervillain felt theit heart flutter and their breath catch in their throat. No one ever mentioned that Villain was also so adorable.

Supervillain shook their head and linked their fingers behind their back, gazing at Villain for a split second before saying, "If you want to see a movie so bad... My house nine o'clock. Tonight."

"I worked there. Now I'm out of a job."

Ohhh, crap. Supervillain inwardly swore at themselves and took of a fighting stance. There was no way that Villain came here just to plan their future date.

Villain attacked first, sending a fireball directly at Supervillain's head. Supervillain dodged, heart racing. Villain was aiming to kill.

Supervillain shot out their own fire, barely missing Villain's mane. Gosh... that hair. Supervillain froze, it was eye catching. It was-

A fierce fireball smacked Supervillain in the chest.

The supervillain went down, hitting the cold ground with a thud as their skin and clothes melted away. Black spots danced along Supervillain's vision as they felt themselves sinking further into the ground.

"Oh my gosh!" Came a short squeal and the next thing that Supervillain saw was Villain's face. Smug, but mildly concerned. Supervillain, anticipating an attack, arched their back weakly, straining to push away, but Villain placed a hand on their least damaged shoulder and shoved them back down.

"Where does it hurt?" Villain asked, their voice taut with care.

"No where, but cold," Supervillain slurred, dipping their head to the side. Their eyelids dropped and any thoughts of their situation disappeared into thin air.

"Stay with me, okay?" Villain brushed some snowflakes off of Supervillain's face. They didn't realize that it has begun to snow. Before Villain scooped up the supervillain, they murmured, "I will take care of you. Deal?"

And that was the last thing Supervillain heard before they succumbed to sleep.

Six months later...

"The heroes have infiltrated the Villain Agency. I believe- Uhh Supervillain, this is kinda important..."

"What was that?" Supervillain pushed Villain slightly away and looked at their henchman. "Cleary nothing important."

"Boss. The heroes are taking over. We need to do something, not-," Henchman looked between the two giggling lovebirds. "Not flirting with your significant other in a bar."

Villain looked up, then Supervillain. Both with a childish look on their face that Henchman only hoped was due to the alcohol.

"If," Supervillain brought their glass to their lips and took a long sip. "If this was so important, dear Henchman. Then why did we meet in a downtown bar?"

"Because you told me to meet here."

"Oh."

"Yeah, now let's talk about this before the situation gets worse. Sending troops out will possibly-"

"We'll handle it Henchman. Okay?" Supervillain stood up and lifted Villain to their feet. "Dance?" They asked Villain and led them to the center of the bar where a crappy band was stringing its guitar and beating on their drums.

Henchman sighed and collected their papers and left the couple to do who knows what.

"I love you, Supervillain," Villain murmured the next day as they approached the Hero's Base. They were holding hands, the fire lapping greedily at their fingertips as it intertwined with each other. Two killers, one fire... it all equaled terror. Pure villainous terror.

"I love you too," Supervillain reached over and landed a kiss in Villain's brown hair.

Both then looked at the Hero's Base. The whole building seemed to be made of glass- a warm sense of deja vu- but everyone knew that the walls were made of the strongest iron injected with power reflectors. It was practically a bunker, made to withstand bombardments.

"Ready?" Villain looked up with their daunting emerald eyes and half-smirk. Supervillain's confident demeanor faltered. They couldn't lose Villain, yet they also couldn't defeat the heroes without them.

"Promise me you'll live and then I am ready."

Villain smiled even wider, "Of course. I'm more worried about you." And with that light-hearted warning, Villain broke the hold on Supervillain's hand, stepped back, and began to blow up the Base.

Supervillain did the same thing, adjusting the aim of the fire to hit Villain's stream. It added strength and power to the blow, causing the outer glass to shatter.

Supervillain and Villain won that fight and won the national headlines.

Villain ran down the stairs the next morning to see Supervillain making breakfast and coffee. They triumphantly held a newspaper.

"The nation's greatest supervillain and their counterpart, Villain, blows up the Hero's Base," Villain read eagerly. "Reports say that the duo attacked in the morning a week after the heroes took over the Villain Agency. These killer's locations are unknown, so please watch yourselves as they could be lurking."

"Give me that," Supervillain snatched the paper, their tongue running over their lips like a snake. After reading it, they started to pace. "We could use this."

"Use this?" Villain scoffed, but their green eyes betrayed their excitement. They always loved their partner's ideas. "How?"

"How does campaigning sound?" Supervillain asked with a flashy smile.

"Campaigning?" Doubt tugged at Villain's voice.

"If you read further, you little naive idiot," the term was used teasingly, so Villain made a playful face. "Our lovely nemesis, Hero, survived the onslaught and is currently running for mayor."

"Mhm. I read that, but didn't deem it important. After all, Hero is basically in charge of the city without the title."

"But we aren't. We have ten thousand men and women underneath our feet, Villain, but Hero has fifty thousand with backup. But we could change those odds, my dear," Supervillain stepped towards Villain. "With a little campaigning, delving into the art of blackmail, and a well-planned assualt to the face of city... Honey, would you like to be mayor?"

"That," Villain wrapped their arms around Supervillain and brought them into a hug. "would be amazing."

"Just amazing?"

"Perfect, my mistake."

"Greetings citizens of the city," Supervillain's voice boomed through the auditorium. Thousands of civilians gathered below Supervillain's feet listening to the villain speak. But none of them knew that the charismatic speaker was Supervillain.

"This city," Supervillain glanced at their glowering foe, Hero, who was sitting with their hands neatly folded in front of them. "is on the brink of downfall. Crime rampages though the streets like rats. Murders, robberies... All under Hero's administration. The city is not safe when both petty and large crimes are not dealed with. For example, only a few weeks ago, the Base was completely demolished and yet the culprits have not been taken into custody. Do you realize the danger of that situation-" Supervillain coughed to hide a chuckle. "The pure impudence of it. We allow v-villains-" another cough. "to, uh, hmf sorry, must have a small cold brewing. Uh, let's see where was I? Ah yes, we allow villains to control us. Manipulate us. They take advantage of Hero's weakness and mold it into a weapon of choice and disaster. We are not safe. I repeat we are not safe."

Supervillain's gaze drifted to the figure, who was quite literally shimmering with rage, next to them. Actually, quite literally, the hero's hands were encassed in a golden wispy glow.

"That it why I introduce to you-" Supervillain tapped some buttons into the electric table they were sitting at. "The City Improvement Plan!" Cheers rang throughout the crowd, centering on a cluster of well-known punk Villains. Supervillain froze. They knew. Those villains must've recognized Supervillain's voice and- Supervillain snuck a peek at Hero. The hero's face was not only glistened in sweaty rage, but also had a smug look of realization on it.

"Okay, so, uh..." Supervillain couldn't concentrate. Not with the tall body of Hero standing up and speaking into a walkie-talkie. They readjusted their mask self-consciously. Was it weird to be wearing a mask? Supervillain looked back at Hero who wss now conversing with a couple guards. They were wearing a mask as well...

Gosh, they were staring for too long. The crowd was watching them, waiting for their next statement.

"The City Improvement Plan will remove unqualified people from office-" Supervillain started breathing deeply as two tasers caught their gaze. "And replace them with well-trained officer trained specially by my own partner, Civilian." Villain's fake name rolled off Supervillain tongue like sour milk.

"Civilian has been trained for high combat situations and has even fought many villains on a day to day basis."

Hero started stalking up to them, the tasers following them. Supervillain gulped, their fingers brushes against the botton on their collar. The only way to reach Villain.

They pressed, feeling the familiar vibration against their collarbone. Within seconds, the villain landed right next to Supervillain. The crowd gasped.

"Hello!" Villain leaned over, crossing their legs behind them as they spoke into the microphone. "My name is Villain. I happen to be Supervillain's boyfriend/girlfriend. Today, we have a fabulous show for you." Villain swung around, wrapping their arms around Supervillain's neck and whispered into their ear, "After today, we will also be called sinners." Supervillain furrowed their brow and hugged Villain back, confused.

Villain pushed away, and swung their arm. A wall of fire lit up on the stadge. No one could get in or out.

Hero rushed forward, their water power in hand, and tried to douse Villain with a good wave, but they dodged and hooked Hero with their leg. Within five seconds, Hero was on the ground with a wire threatening to break off all airflow.

While Villain was occupied with taking Hero down, Supervillain faced the two guards. Each had a taser ready to stike at them at any given chance. So, seeing the immediate danger, Supervillain blasted the tasers out of there hands. The guards instantly ran at them with the intention to strangle.

Supervillain was knocked to the ground pretty easily with the weight of the two burly- yet, insanely muscular- guys pressing against their shoulders.

Villain glanced over to see their partner struggling. Quickly, they punched Hero in the face. Once... twice... a third blow did it, leaving Hero completely motionless on the ground.

Villain then took the liberty to yank one of the guys off of Supervillain and threw him through the raging fire. The screams did not end.

Supervillain pushed the other guy away, flipping onto their feet and gave him a good burn across his chest- similar to one that Villain gave them a half year before. With a contented grunt, Supervillain landed him next to his writhing buddy.

Both Villains turned to Hero, narrowing their gaze. The hero had just began to stir. Not wasting anymore time, Supervillain rushed over and finished Hero off with a swift cut in their throat.

They flew away right before the fire wall burned out- not even waiting to hear the horrified gasps.

The couple worked like that. Rampaging through cities and killing, burning, and maiming.

"They don't follow any rules."

"Out of control."

"Ruthless, merciless..."

Rumors spread like wildfire, hitting all the nation's broadcasts and newspapers. There was a nationwide curfew as well- no one knew when the villains would pop up and strike.

They were slowly taking control of the world, just like Supervillain promised, through fear and domination. Schools started to host army troops to protect the children. Men and women alike started to get drafted and began to train- focusing any powers they held on fight and enchancing strength in those not blessed with magic. The world was in chaos, orbiting around the sun that was Villain and Supervillain's fireball.

Yet, even as the world slowly sunk to its knees, the villainous couple was having the time of their lives.

Planning for their future.

Supervillain and Villain were taking a romantic walk in a rose garden one evening. The sunset was a pallette of pastel colors- pink, green, orange, you name it. They circled around a tranquil pond with growing waterlilies and ducks happily quaking to their young.

Suddenly, Supervillain spun Villain around. Once again, hazel eyes met emerald, but this time it was of love, not hate.

Supervillain bent down onto one knee and revealed an diamond ring. Any pedestrians wouldn't even guess that the proposing couple was the world's greatest murderers. No one.

"Will you marry me, Villain?"

"Yes," Villain squealed and dragged Supervillain to their feet.

"You are supposed to let me put the ring on your finger..." Supervillain's voice trailed off as Villain kissed their new fiancé.

"I don't care," Villain teased and rested their head against Supervillain's shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

#villain whumper #supervillain whumper #hero whumpee #tw death #character death #evil supervillain #evil villain #heros and villains #supervillain in love #plot #writing #music whump #magic whump #fire on fire #sam smith #villain x supervillain

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