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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

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Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out):

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @mcureid @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @goldensonlyangel @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrew @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605 @reidsbabe @not-that-kind-of-dr-spencer-reid

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #enemies to lovers

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poppy-metal · 3 years ago

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poppy please help me. im about to write a novel in your inbox, sorry in advance. the urge to write an entirely sfw fic with not a hint of spice but is weirdly hot is so.... so strong. lemme just pitch this to you because i can't get it out of my head.

okay so a classical music playlist for the story.

bakugou and reader both being from high-class families. very pride and prejudice esque where manners and the way you carry yourself is important. and the story begins with them meeting. and reader thinks that bakugou is rough and far too haughty and proud like he thinks he's above everyone because he has money. n reader is proper but likes what she likes and who she likes. they don't get along at all, finding themselves at odds in the way passive-aggressive victorian age people are.

overtime they meet again and again with an extreme distaste for each other and bakugou finds himself oddly intrigued with her but she wants nothing to do with him. so they stay at odds through the story like this until they're made to dance with each other one evening at a party.

and the penultimate scene in the fic is a ballroom dance where they spin around, waltzing to Canon in D Major, P.37. and it's just them and their thoughts about each other, replaying the times they'd met and interacted and slowly realizing that they're in love with each other.

n reader has a moment where she realizes that bakugou's hand is holding her's as if it's glass. like she'll shatter if he moves too suddenly. and even though it's calloused, she finds that there is something soft about it. and his grip on her waist is so gentle, like he's hovering above it, barely touching the middle of her back. she finds herself wanting him to pull her close, to feel the weight and heat of his palm through her dress.

he's so rough in manner and closed off, but as they dance and look into each other's eyes she finds that he has this unexpected softness to him. a gentle type of grace that she hadn't noticed before as they watch each other spin in a delicate balance. all those years of classical dance finally being of use in each other's arms because neither of them is clumsy and they're so in step despite never having been on the same page before.

n bakugou softens at the edges, straight neck slowly relaxing as he dances with her in slow step with the music. and he can't help but notice how beautiful she looks like this. the gentle curve of her cheek when she glances to the side or the slight crane in her neck as she looks up at him. bakugou can feel her fingers on his shoulder, how gently they rest on the fabric, so delicate and comforting. and she's so warm that he can feel it radiating off of her, even through each step and spin. and her hand is so small in his and it's ironic because he is worried that he might break it, break her somehow. and he can't deny how beautiful she looks in the dress she wore tonight, revealing her collarbones in a ladylike fashion. and he's worried that he'll slip up because reader's dress keeps hitting his legs where it collects gracefully at her ankles with each step.

and this dance shouldn't be fun, but it is. they're both straight-faced, watching each other with a hand on his shoulder as they both spin and fall deeper and deeper into each other. until the dance comes to an end and they realize that they're both in love with each other.

god, just a whole classical playlist where these feelings and the subtle appreciation they have for each other comes to gentle fruition with this song. a soft realization that they are in love.

help me. can u tell i'm in love with him?

Cal i am listening to the song rn as i type this and im so SOFT BECAUSE!! !!!!! can u imagine, the slow progression in the shift of his face, as this song progresses. please the notes are so gentle....can imagine the realization dawning slowly n he's looking at you and you're looking back. his eyes are soft in wonderment. adoration. he adores you. so much. n he's flitting through all the times in his head where you'd argued with eachother, that time you pushed him in a lake, that time when you both purposefully kept stepping on eachothers toes when you were practicing this very dance, but then there's also that time you both sat quietly under a willow tree and n he's remembering how the sun looked when it hit your face, drenched in soft glow. he remembers begrudgingly admitting to himself then that you were beautiful. you always had been but he hadn't let himself see beyond his disdain for you to really...grasp it. but he did then, even if he folded that thought away and tucked it into a corner of his mind where he was never supposed to open it again. but its all out in the open now.

n as the song comes to an end he's looking at you like you put the stars in the sky, and without realizing his thumb has moved to stroke your hip where one of his hands lie. his defenses aren't even up at the moment and neither are yours. when his lips part, the words slip out of them like honey, he hadn't even realized he was going to say them: "you're beautiful, y/n" you could steal all the suns light with your warmth alone.

he says it so tenderly and with conviction, his adams apple bobbing, eyes scanning your face, that you swallow too. the urge to make a sarcastic remark should be on the tip of your tongue, it usually always is, but it's nowhere to be found. just pure and utter, something. (Love, its love) his confession tugs your own from your lips, "so are you" said so quietly but genuinely. and the way his hand squeezes your hip, you swear you can feel it like liquid fire on your skin underneath the dress.

Its intimate the way you both slow your dance to a stop, other couples swirling around you like snowflakes. his eyes drop to your lips, and yours part , body going hot and molten the when his eyes dip lower, lower still. He swallows again, hand spasms against you, he feels too many things at once. "Y/n...I-"

"Can i have this dance?" You both start at the sudden interruption. Blinking as if coming up from a heady dream you look at....izuku.

#ask #bkgs baby <3 #the softest most sfw thing i have EVER written #why did i make izuku cockblock yall #i was getting tew emotional #bakugou x reader

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btssunnyboy · 4 years ago

Text

Deadly Protection - Choi San - PART 1

The hate he felt for his other clients, was nothing compared to how he felt about you. But maybe him liking you, isn’t the best possible outcome.

Word Count - 3,036

Warning - Progressive yandere, profanity, Chan is fucking mean, one misogynistic comment, and a sexual innuendo.

BTS , NCT , ATEEZ - Request Open

__________________________________________

Working with over pampered celebrities was his expertise. He knew all the in and outs of this industry, but he had too. As much as he hated the people he worked with, he was still getting paid to protect them with his life. In order to do so he needed to know every possible outcome of every possible situation. And that hatred for those other clients built a pit of anger and despair in his stomach as he walked closer to the door. The thought of meeting the shitty person behind almost made him change his mind and walk away. But that key word almost is something big that should be taken into consideration. With a deep breath, San swallowed his pride and proceeded to make his presence known to those in the room.

A few sets of eyes shifted towards his direction and the only thing he could do is bow his head. Within a second those in the room turned back to their original conversation and paid the man in the comer no mind as he stared off aimlessly through the window. It was oddly strange that no one was rushing up to him, or pointing him towards the one person he was sworn to protect. This whole ordeal was causing a pit to rise in his stomach, and his gut feelings were always right.

“She has to be on set in ten minutes! Where is she!” One of the women in the dressing room bellowed out loudly as she checked her watch for the third time. Her eyes acted as if they were gonna pop out of her skull at any given moment. And that made San’s blood run cold. Was this mystery lady about to be another pain in his ass, were you somehow even more of a spoiled, entitled bitch then he had thought? Should San give up this opportunity right here, right now.

Another lady in the room, that he assumed was an assistant, came up behind the previous woman and tried to soothe her. Small back rubs and encouraging words did not seem to do the trick, as he watched her hissy fit continue to unfold in front of him. The assistant took a shaky breath into her lungs before she spoke, “Listen, Y/n has never let you down before! I promise, it’s probably just traffic that’s keeping them.”

Ah, so his client is the famous Y/n, who is known for her more villainous roles on the silver screen. If you’re anything like you’re characters, he’s gonna take that as a big red flag. But before he could form more of an obnoxious opinion on you, the dressing room door was being pushed open. Rather harshly as it made San stumble about, before he could reach for the gun that was hidden within the confines of his jacket just as his fingertips grazed the holster, he was met with pleading eyes. That was just begging for some peace at that moment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize you were standing there.” The voice was panicked as you rushed to his aid. Your eyes as wide as they’d go as you looked over his arm. Almost as if you were more worried about the built man in the corner then your own safety. As you had walked up to a complete stranger without inspecting more of your surroundings. “Are you okay, do you need anything?”

San’s curiosity spiked just by watching you interact with him, as you’ve known each other since you were kids. Your soft hands rested on his bicep as you tried to inspect for any injuries that you may have caused. And he found it quite cute when reliziation hit you, and you tried to make the distance between two of you greater. You were invading his personal space, and he appreciates you backing off. But before he could even answer your questions, the assistant from before harshly shoved her shoulder into his.

“Y/n, where the hell were you! Sasha has been panicking like crazy!” San felt his eye twitch at the high pitched voice of the assistant. They could have been nicer with this whole ordeal, it’s not that hard to ask a question. But instead this lady wanted to raise her voice and practically spit in your face, and then have the audacity to get mad when you took a few moments to answer. “You’ve got a voice, don’t you?”

“Amber I’m so sorry I was late, but traffic was terrible and random cars kept following me.” You explained as you tried to put down your purse. When you made eye contact with him, for some reason it felt nice and familiar. Even though you know for a fact you have never met this man in your life. “I promise this won’t happen again.”

“It better not, or you can kiss any letter or recommendations goodbye.” Sasha stormed out of the dressing room and dragged Amber along with her. A saddened look on her face as they simply brushed right passed you. “You have less than ten minutes to get ready for the scene.”

You harshly rubbed your hands down your face as you took in a deep breath. All these doubtful thoughts of the movie started racing in, and you wondered if this was all worth. Getting treated like trash just because you were late one time, and then threatening to trash your name up and down the boulevard. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why Amber decided to take her anger out on you.”

“You say sorry too much, besides that hit felt like nothing.” San slightly smiled as he tried to keep the conversation small. Those two were already pissed and he doesn’t want you getting into any more trouble. He cleared his throat loudly as he started towards the door. “I will just step outside and let you get ready. Just knock on the door three times and we’ll head down to the set.”

Before he could step out the door, you held out your hand. A small gesture, that he was not used to at all. He was used to getting yelled at to guard the doors and make sure no pervert is snooping through the windows. His wrinkled eyebrows gave away his confusion as he eyed your hand just a little bit longer than necessary. The small rings that glittered in the light complimented your hand nicely, everything seemed to compliment you nicely. “Just so we’re starting off on the right foot, I’m Y/n, and I’m going to guess that you’re Choi San my new bodyguard.”

It was oddly strange how the first interaction with you had San’s heart beating a little faster than normal. He was so used to being with distasteful people, that didn’t care about anyone but themselves. But truth be told everything felt different when it came to you. You apologize profusely even when things weren’t your fault, you never raise your voice and you’re always so kind. Even to some of the dumb people that over step their boundaries, but that’s his job to pay attention to those types of people. It’s his job to protect you and yet it seems like you’d lay it all on the line to protect him.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but he does feel a connection. A connection that runs deeper than a simple coworker type of relationship, but at the same time he knows this has to stay strictly in the business type of situation. But at this moment it’s not like he could act on these so-called feelings, as your manager had other plans for your own love life. Which was stupid in his opinion, as you were your own perosn and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

“Don’t they just look fantastic together!” Sasha gushed beside him as she looked at her new couple. You were standing there semi awkwardly as the dude proceeded to put his arm around your waist. But it started to drift lower and lower and San could feel his blood boil within. Before he could even step one foot forward, you calmly removed his arm altogether. Within a second Sasha had to put her two cents in once more. “Y/n, stop! That pose is perfect, it shows how close you two are!”

“No offense, Sasha, but Chan and I barely know each other.” You forced a tight lipped as Chan’s hand tried to rub soothing circles on your hip. This relationship is just PR for the new movie you two are, but it felt so grimy. Lying to your fans just so they’ll buy a ticket and waste their own money on you. Just because they see the two main characters getting close with one another.

“I mean you could always take me up on my offer, and go on a date with me.” Chan smiled flirtatiously at you as he twisted your body to face him. His eyes staring longingly into your while his hands began to move to your lower back. Then he leaned over to whisper in your ear so that no one could hear. “Besides, if you have a good time at dinner, maybe we can have some more fun back at my hotel room.”

You kept your mouth shut because you knew that if you opened your mouth vomit would cover him from head to toe. But it seems like that decision was already made for you, as Sasha’s eyebrows quirked up at the idea. The idea of her two leading costars getting flirty at a candle lit dinner. It would drive the press crazy which in result would drive up so much more buzz about the movie. “That’s perfect, Amber will have everything set up by tonight!”

Dread filled your entire body at the thought of having to spend a night with him. You know it’s for press, and you know it’s for the fans, but still it’s the thought is stomach turning. But beside you, Chan, was having the opposite reaction. One of his eyebrows were cocked in and he wore a sly smirk. You could tell that his stomach was filled with something else than bile, like yours was. His fingertips brushed against your chin, as he pulled your face a little closer. His lips barely brushed against yours, as he softly spoke. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

You watched him walk away as you tried to keep your composure, but it was hard. Dealing with a guy like him was terrible. They never took social cues, or read the room in any way. The only thing that filled their blown up head of getting laid. Quickly slipping away you tried to make it back to the dressing room without anyone noticing, but you knew that you’d always have a shadow.

“Why can’t they have his girlfriend in the show go on a date with him! I’m his rival, what good is gonna come from this.” You huffed lightly as you turned to face the man that followed you. “I’m sorry you probably don’t wanna hear all my complaining.”

“Talking helps, and it’s obvious you need someone to listen.” San shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat on the plush couch, but he tried to keep a respectable distance between the two of you. “And I’m your bodyguard. I'm here to help with any problems you might have, so lay it on me.”

For once someone actually cared to listen to what you have to say. It felt like a wave of relief washed over you, because you felt safe having this conversation with him. You hoped that after this you two would have more conversations, because seriousness isn’t needed every second of the day. You just hoped he felt that way too.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t take long.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m all ears no matter how long it takes.”

_______________________________________

You lightly patted down the bottom of your dress as you started walking towards the elevator. Chan had asked you to meet him down in the lobby, because he said he has a small surprise. Even though you know you needed to focus on the man you’re about to go on a date with you couldn’t. As cliche as it sounds you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to San. The poor guy who has his ear talked off for over an hour, just by you complaining about Chan. But he still listened, his eyes were alert with every single word that passed through your lips. You sighed heavily as the elevator dinged showing that you were now on the right floor.

“You look stunning.” Chan said, surprisingly nice. Without the hint of any sexual undertones to it. You smiled slightly as you gripped his outstretched hand. He may be acting nice now, but you know you never should let that guard down tonight. Here’s to two hours of your life that you’re never gonna get back.

“You’re not gonna be quiet the whole dinner are you?” Chan jokes as he tries to nonchalantly sip his drink. His eyes stared back into yours with curiosity swimming in them, but he waited patiently for your answer. “Hmm?”

“I’m just looking through the menu right now,” You tried to keep yourself busy as long as possible. Because no offense to him, but you could feel your brain cells deteriorating the more you spoke to him. All you wanted to do was go back to your room and go to sleep. For once sleep seems a lot more interesting than keeping a conversation going with this man. You bit back the urge to laugh as you heard him huff.

“For fifteen minutes? Damn, I didn’t realize picking a meal could be that hard.” His words made your head pulse with a headache every time he decided to speak. But the stupid look on his face made it clear that he thought his words were just conversational pieces. And it took all the willpower in your body to not chuck the wine in your glass at him. But he didn’t seem to care as he started to scroll aimlessly through his stupid phone.

The moment the waiter came over you quickly rushed your order out of your mouth. The sooner you say it the sooner it might come, and the sooner you can leave this ass in the restaurant. Throughout dinner you could feel eyes staring holes into the back of your head. But every time you tried to catch a glimpse of them, they’d always disappear. Your soul nearly left your body as a rough hand was placed upon your shoulder.

“You need to leave, right now.” San has a calm demeanor, but you could tell something was wrong by the sternness in his voice. Chan eyed him worriedly, as he watched him out his arm around your waist. Before you two even stepped one foot out of the restaurant he placed his jacket over your head. You assumed it was to protect you from the rain. “Keep your head down, and walk as fast as you can. I’ll explain everything when we’re in your hotel room.”

You listened without a second thought as you raced back to your room. Ignoring the pain in your ankles from your high heels digging into them harshly. The only thing on your mind was the way San’s hands rested protectively rested on your waist. Before you stepped into the hotel you noticed all the vans that were starting to surround the restaurant and many different people emerged from them. Paparazzi, along with fans seemed to camp out in front of the restaurant. Now you were glad to be in the safe walls of San’s hotel room.

“Chan sent a tweet exposing your location and people started to figure out the hotel you were staying at as well. So I knew I needed to get you out of there as soon as possible.” Of course that dumb ass tweeted out where you two were. But then again it doesn’t surprise you, he’s always been one who loves any type of attention that he could receive. “Maybe it’s best you stay in my room tonight, just in case any fans put two and two together.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother, and besides you have to deal with me enough.” You tried to waive off his offer, even though you knew this was a good idea. You were safer with him no matter. And the thought of someone getting into your hotel room scared the hell out of you.

“Once again, it’s my job to protect you no matter what. And besides Chan is still at the restaurant they’re gonna follow him, and I’d rather not have the thought of you alone on my mind. So please just stay.” San pleaded as he tried to fix the spare bed. Making sure it was comfortable enough for you to sleep in. He smiled slightly as you gave a quick nod, before announcing that you were going to return to your room for a change of clothes. He knew at that moment you were too nice for your own good, and he’s going to have to step up his game in order to keep you safe.

San didn’t understand what came over him that night. Watching you shake slightly under your cover was tearing him to pieces and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand why he’s even having these feelings all together, considering you were supposed to be a job, not anything else. But he picked Chan’s lock without a second thought and proceeded to show him why exposing your location was a bad idea. Chan’s room was unrecognizable, by the time San was down with it.

Glass shattered in every direction, piles of it littered the floor. Multiple pieces of his clothes were ripped and torn straight from the seams. His bed was turned upside down, with the sheets thrown across the room. Hopefully this gets San’s message across, but he’d be more than happy to take this straight to Chan’s face.

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depressedacadamia · 3 years ago

Text

I’m scared of the dark!

Summary: Annabeth notices someone running behind her as she walks back to her dorm at 1 in the morning. She does the only thing she can think of- Run

Warnings: This is quite a creepy piece and has dark descriptions of the reality of walking alone in the dark- It does end happily though, if thats any use.

A/N: My exams are over!! Since I didn’t post a fic last week, here’s one today!! For this, I really wanted to explore a more creepy and gothic writing style so if that isn’t your thing, feel free to pass! <3 from me!!

Read on A03

Don’t look behind you, just keep walking. Ignore those footsteps, you’re being paranoid, Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking.

The words repeated themselves in Annabeth’s mind like a mantra as she walked back to her dorm, clutching her books to her chest as if her life depended on it. It was almost 1 in the morning and she had accidentally fallen asleep in the library.

She had told herself that it would only be a 5 minute nap.

5 minute nap my ass she thought as she pushed the muscles in her legs to move as fast as they possibly could without drawing any attention to herself. She could feel another presence. Everytime she passed a lamp post, she would pause, take a frantic glance around trying to find the source of the ominous sound.

Tap, tap, tap.

Her head spun around, searching for the sound. Was that a racoon? Stray cat? Do stray cats show up here? She could see her breath in the air, misty and cloudy- just like her surroundings. She was surrounded by the cold that seeped into the shadows, like a vampire draining the victim of its life.

That very well may be my life being drained if I don’t get back quickly.

Her thoughts were only exacerbating her fear and paranoia of the situation. She felt as if she was watching a horror film and any second now, the killer would jump out and the unknowing victim would be nothing but another corpse left behind for the campus to find when it was all too late.

Tap tap tap.

Her legs moved faster, she was almost breaking into a run. The transparent doors of her apartment complex were almost visible. The light was more present, she could see her surroundings.

Tap tap tap

She felt her legs take over, breaking into a run. Her head quickly turned back only to see a dark hooded figure sprinting at full speed towards her. She took no time to realise that the figure was also looking behind them as if they were being chased but instead moved so fast that she felt whiplash against her face from the cold bite of the wind.

She lunged at the double doors, stumbling past them, trying to make her way to the elevator. Her hand slapped the button, desperately pushing at it as if it could make the elevator move any faster.

“Please, please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the heavy breathing.

The elevator continued its slow progress as if Annabeth wasn’t about to get murdered any second now. She turned her head slightly, only to see that the hooded figure was now much closer than before and also intending on entering the same building as her.

Her body dropped into flight mode. Glancing back at the elevator, she managed to calculate that in the amount of time she had and the amount of time it would take for the elevator to arrive, the guy would have probably already murdered her.

She decided the copious amounts of stairs to her dorm were no longer as long as they had once been. She threw herself at them, skipping 2 steps at a time, her breath beating out of her with every step. Her hand slipped into her pocket, fishing for her keys.

Finally, as she arrived on her floor, she whipped her head around, checking her surroundings. The corridor was dark, only illuminated by the sliver of light that would emerge at the bottom of a door occasionally, indicating that somebody was indeed awake and therefore would hear her screams.

As to not alert anybody of her presence, she moved slowly, her foot lifting up in slow motion only to bring it back down on the carpeted floor. Her hand gripped around her keys, both for protection and to prevent the clanging sound from ricocheting across the empty corridor.

The dark was consuming each door, it was almost impossible to see which door was hers.

Shuffle shuffle shuffle.

She froze.

“W- wh-who’s th-there?” Annbeeth’s voice came out shaky, her breathing still heavy from the running. She was only answered with silence.

Tap tap tap

Her footsteps became more frequent, her worries about someone hearing her fading- someone already knew she was here, there was no point trying to hide it, she should focus on trying to get back to her apartment as fast as she could.

Her pants became quieter and quicker- just like her thoughts. They whizzed past in her mind, even too fast for even her brain to process. Her eyes were wide, darting around frantically, never finding a source of the sound.

In an odd way, she wanted to find the source, if it meant knowing what or who was there.

Ding ding ding.

Annabeth left out a shriek only muffled by her hands moving to cover her mouth and the abnormally loud opening of the elevator doors. She saw a foot step out and she felt paralysed. She couldn’t move, she wanted to run, she wanted to scream- maybe to even beg for her life, but it seemed that there was flight, fight and freeze mode; right now, unhelpfully, her body had chosen freeze mode.

Her eyes moved to the hooded figure's head and she could make out dark tufts of hair that protruded from the front of the hoodie. The hair was so dark that it blended with the night itself- the only way Annabeth could see it was due to the light from the elevator.

She watched as the doors closed, stealing the light and hope with it.

Slowly, she began to back away from the hooded figure who was staring directly back at her. Her hand tried to silently fumble with keys in her hand, ready to protect herself. As she fumbled with them in one hand, she made the mistake of letting all the keys collide and immediately the clanging sound of keys gave her away.

The figure was hooded. Hooded like Death itself. Annabeth could feel the piercing stare of the figure staring at her- She, for a brief moment, forgot about her grotesque fate and for a second, only a second, wondered what colour their eyes were- were they green, or were they piercing blue? Or maybe they were a warm brown or a dangerous black, the kind that Death would stare their victims down with.

She watched, still shuffling backwards in fear as the figure reached his arm out towards the wall. Annabeth could then make out a weird contraption underneath his other arm. It seemed to be flat but had 4 eyes- only that two were on the front and two at the back. It was flat and she could only imagine the multide of ways one could torture another with such a contreaption.

Click

If she wasn't so terrified she might have said that this was the sound of a light switch being turned on but her fear, very reasonably, was overruling her. The sound ‘click’ to her in that moment sounded like one of the worst possible things ever.

Was that a gun?

She couldn't hold in her fear anymore. She turned around, running, running for her life. Running like someone with everything to lose, running for herself and every reason she could think of for running away.

Click click click

As if she were truly in a horror film, about to meet her fate, a single light at the end of the endless corridor flickered on. For a second, Annabeth thought she was free, she thought she could see her apartment, but as she stared at the numbers on the doors, they all seemed unfamiliar.

It struck her- She was on the wrong floor.

The light flickered on and off, on and off- teasing her, luring her like a moth to a flame. Once she got to the end, she wouldn't be able to go anywhere- she’d be trapped, like a fly in a spider's web. She shivered at the thought of spiders.

“Wait!” A voice called out. “ Hey, hey!”

Annabeth did nothing of the sort. Her body was slick with sweat, the loose strands of hair around her face stuck to her face with sweat. She turned her head back, only for a second, just to see how far she was and-

-Oof!

She collided into something and her face was glued to a wall.

She pulled away from the wall, and scrambled around, trying to get off her knees.

But all was too late. As she glanced up, she was met with black hair and a hand that was offered in her face. She couldn't bring herself to take the hand- no matter what hyer fate was.

She managed to pull herself back to her feet. She turned slightly and froze- Flight, Freeze, time for Fight.

“Are you okay?” The voice asked her. The question caught her off guard. Why were they being nice? Weren’t they meant to try and kidnap her, and then mutilate her body to the point that the police couldn't recognise her?

Her voice failed her entirely. She only managed to press herself more desperately against the wall behind her. The light above her flickered again. She caught a flash of the face but it was enough to drain the life of her. It was the weirdest combination of features she had ever seen and somehow it fit.

The eyes were green, a soft green and somehow they seemed to be able to scare her, the coldness they held under the harsh flickering light in the darkness was all too similar to the brutal sea. His expression yet, seemed concerned and his mouth was set in a firm line- whether than was from concern or perhaps frustration or even anger, Annabeth was too startled to tell.

“I’m sorry, I must have scared you. I wanted to give this to you, I think you dropped it when you started running.” And surely enough, in their hands, there lay Annabeths most recently taken out book on architecture- the very book that had gotten her into this mess.

“I-'' She was about to thank him but her tone turned visceral. “Why were you chasing me?”

She could feel her stomach churning, threatening to throw up her food but she couldn't let her pride be taken away. She had run- yes, but very reasonably. Time to see his reasoning for trying to kill her. The boy looked uneasy at her question, as the light above them finally stopped flickering and finally did its job, illuminating the small space around them. Annebth looked at her perpetrator and was shocked.

“Percy?”

On recognizing that voice, Percy looked up, bewildered. “Annabeth?”

“What were you doing chasing the first girl you saw at night?” Annabeth asked, her tone very much accusative. She stood her ground with her hands resting on her hips, no longer tucking her chin into her chest and rather holding her head up.

“I-I wasn’t- I swear, I wasn't! It’s just that, that…”

“It’s just that what?”

Percy mumbled something under his breath, bringing his hood down as he ran his hand through the messy hair.

“Huh?”

I-” His ears and face tinged a light shade of pink, “I’mscaredofthedark.”

“Stop speaking so fast or I’m just going to assume you’re secretly a serial killer who stalks college girls on his Wednesdays.”

“I don’t, I swear, I’m just scared of the dark, okay!” Percy bursted out, flinging his arms in front of him. Annabeth could see that Percy seemed almost as terrified as she did, his face drained of colour, skateboard held protectively underneath his arm and hood held over his head.

“You’re…. Afraid of the dark?”

“It’s not something I pride myself on,” he mumbled, looking away.

Annabeth took a deep breath, acknowledging that she wouldn’t die because Percy couldn’t hurt a fly.

“Did I scare you?” His voice came out as a small squeak.

She rubbed the back of her head as if she was slightly embarrassed. “Uh., a bit.”

“Sorry.” he rubbed his shoe into the carpet, refusing to make eye contact with Annabeth.

“Thanks for my book...er try not to run behind girls late at night though… it can give the wrong idea…”

“I’m sorry, really really sorry. It was so dark and I was terrified and I must have imagined that it was terrifying for you as well, to just see some hooded guy in the dark just running like crazy,” Percy rambled nervously.

Annabeth let out a half hearted laugh as they walked to Percy;’s apartment door. “Yeah, when you put it like that, it’s slightly less intimidating.”

“Thanks for not killing me- I guess you were prepared though with your keys in your hand and everything.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrow and then her fist when realising she had inserted a key in between each knuckle crevice, wolverine style, in an attempt to make some sort of brass knuckle. ”Careful, I still might.”

Percy frowned when he looked at her fist. Hey reached out to key wolverine fist to readjust it.

“Hey, just a word of advice, if you actually want to do an attacker's damage, putting a key in between each knuckle won't do much. Instead, hold the biggest and sharpest key you have like a knife, and then aim somewhere like the face- it;’s more likely to destabilize them and stop them from coming after you. The key in between each knuckle thing is most likely to just slightly scratch their face when you punch it and annoy them even more.”

Annabetyh was slightly stunned. “ Uh., uh.,oh thank you, thank you.. I guess. If you don't mind me asking, how do you know this?”

Percy shrugged. “ I have a younger sister. And a few friends who have a hobby of fighting, I guess I kinda learnt how to fish them out of bad situations.”

Annabeth opened her mouth and closed it again, similar to a goldfish. They both stood outside of Percy’s apartment, as he slotted his key in and opened his door.

Percy noticed that Annabeth still looked quite shaken from what had happened earlier so he held the door a little wider.

“Do you want to come in?”

Annabeth smiled

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imagine-lcorp · 4 years ago

Text

Call You Mine (One Shot)

Request

Yay you're taking requests! Lena x reader where reader is constantly being hit on by other men and women day after day. Lena doesn't think too much of it at first but slowly it'll start to irritate her. One day Lena is fuming with jealousy"I seriously can't take you anywhere! It doesn't matter where we go there are always some idiot flirting with you!" R jokes about putting a ring on her finger to make her invisible to other single people. Lena takes the idea and decides to propose to R.

A/N: Hello my dear beans, long time i know, I know, I just hope you’re doing good and that u are taking care of yourselves. I know these are hard and complicated times, things are uncertain and the world seem in utter chaos, just know that I’m here. Try your best and reach out if u need. You’re important and I’m here for u. I know this isn’t much but pls enjoy this little piece. Love u guys.

Lena Luthor x Fem!R//Word Count: 1,729

-------------------------------------------------------

There was something about you, Lena knew, that drew people like moths to the flame. It was the energy that radiated from your body every time you met someone new. It was the warmth in each on your smiles that could disarm an entire army. It was the light that was instantly conjured inside every room you stepped in. Lena had experienced this and much more and she knew she couldn't blame the others for looking at you, or approaching you, in searching for that light.

She, unfortunately, didn't expect the kind of approach that involved lingering looks and flirtatious tones some strangers used when talking to you. Like that bartender you were talking to.

She could notice it from far away as you ordered your drinks. The way he smiled at you, the way he talked making jokes trying to coax a smile from you. The lingering touch of his hand on yours as he handed you the drinks over the table. In the grand scheme of things, that was nothing, a simple exchange and interaction that would lose all meaning once you left the beach in that marvelous summer day. Lena had tried to repeat herself as much as she observed you and the bartender, with her eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

She had tried not to think too much about it, but when you were being hit on by others, once or twice or more, day after day, Lena finally had to admit it was something she didn't enjoy. What frustrated her the most was the fact that, objectively speaking, she could say nothing about it. It was not as if she could put a sign over your head that could read 'Lena Luthor's Girlfriend. Do Not Tresspass' or stop people from even looking or talking to you. But she also couldn't help the sting of possessiveness that struck her every time she had to witness that.

This time, however, she couldn't seem to hold it anymore. She left her chair and walked towards the bar as the bartender kept trying to keep the small talk going between you two.

"There you are, darling. Are our drinks taking too long?"

"Hey, babe. Sorry, I'm the one who is taking too long." You innocently apologized, unaware of the hint of annoyance in Lena's voice.

"Johnny here was telling me about this surfing event the beach is gonna be having this week. It seems like a big thing."

"Yeah, it is. I'm gonna be there too so, if you wanna see a good show, you can just come and see me." The bartender replied with a grin.

"What a shame." Lena replied before you could. The mock clear in her words. "I mean, we are leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, that's right." You said nonchalant.

"I guess it will have to be another time. Now, we should go, (Y/N). He probably has a lot of work." The mention of your name finally made you realize something was off with Lena. That and the forced a smile she was trying to pull at the bartender. "Nice meeting you, Johnny."

"Likewise." Lena saw him wink at you unaltered by the interaction, and felt herself almost losing it.

Instead, she took her cocktail from your hand and, without another word, she strode back to where you had been taking your sunbath.

You had to blink a few times before muttering your own goodbye and catching up with Lena who, by the looks of it, wasn't having any more fun.

"I seriously can't take you anywhere!" Came the exasperated response.

"Hey, what has come over you?" You asked a bit worried this time. You had never seen Lena this irritated before.

"It doesn't matter where we go there are always some idiot flirting with you!" Lena stopped and turned to look at you. Even with the sunglasses, you could see the little frown in her face.

You were slightly surprised by it but now you understood what it all was about. "Wait, are you like... jealous?"

"No, I'm-" Lena turned around with a huff and walked towards your little spot on the beach, taking a seat again. "Never mind, it's nothing."

"Babe?" You called, taking a seat next to her. "Lena?"

"Mmh?" She was trying to hide her face by drinking from her cocktail.

"Look at me." You asked softly.

Lena left her drink on the little table beside her and took off her sunglasses. A bit reluctantly, she did as you said.

You had never known Lena to suffer from jealousy but, of course, there was still a lot of things you didn't know about Lena Luthor, and not for lack of trying.

You knew that from a young age, and ever since Lena had become part of the Luthor family, she had to learn to keep her true feelings to herself. Having a heart of your own was a dangerous thing to have among the Luthors, who prided themselves on being methodical, analytical, always in control. The image she gave to the world was that of an ever composed, always calm, collected prodigy and business woman. Everything that was expected from her to be.

It was hard some times to really know what Lena was feeling when most of her life she had been conditioned to compartmentalize her feelings. Putting them in tiny boxes and shoving them to the darkest corners of her mind so they would not affect her rational thinking. It was even harder for Lena to change that and relearn how to navigate and not to hide her emotions.

There were some occasions, like this one, when you were unaware of Lena's true feelings until you noticed she wouldn't talk much, or until you started to fight over trifles and trivialities. Only then you would realize there was something bothering her and try to talk to her about it. You knew it wasn't an easy feat, for either of you, but you were making progress.

"It doesn't matter how many idiots try to flirt with me because, hear me out, they got nothing on you." You assured her in a soft voice, pulling yourself closer to the edge of your seat, so you could reach her hand with yours. "I don't even think it is possible for me to care about anyone but you."

The frown in her face dissolved as she looked at you with a little pout.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry." Lena said caressing your hand with her fingers.

"It's alright, just remember I love you and only you." You pulled yourself forward, planting a quick kiss on Lena's lips. "But if that keeps bothering you, I don't know, you can make me an invisible cape or ring to keep them at bay." You said smiling and winking at her.

Although Lena was still annoyed at the whole situation, she couldn't help but smile. Unaware of it, you had given her something to think about. "I love you too, (Y/N)."

Lena loved you with every fiber in her being and that was a matter of fact. There was no easy way for her to deal with all the attention you sometimes received. She didn't want to make you invisible to the world, as that would mean depriving it from your beauty and kindness, but she did want for it to know you were, somehow, off limits. If someone else wanted you, they would have to go through her first.

So, after your little vacation, Lena put her mind to work, to design a device that could be able to repel the people around you, particularly those who tried to make unsolicited advances on you. She knew it wasn't exactly a good idea. She wasn't sure you would agree to what she had in mind and she needed to talk to you about it, but she was already on the making.

It was almost a month before she could come up with a proper idea that was viable, practical, and with at least ninety percent changes of working. Unfortunately, she discovered this device wasn't something she could do by herself. But once she had it in her hands and was sure it was the thing to do, she didn't wait long to show it to you.

"Wait, are you serious?" You asked with raised eyebrows.

You had been in her office, seated in the couch and in conversation after lunch, when the conversation turned to the topic. When you had suggested Lena for an invisible cape, you had not expected her to actually pull it off or consider it as a real possibility.

"It's exactly an invisible cape but I'm sure it will do the work." Lena shrugged.

"But you have made, in fact, something to keep people away from me?" At that moment, you couldn't decide between being impressed or worried about it.

"Sort of. Also, I didn't make this one. I had to call someone to help me with it." She pulled a small black leathery box from the pocket of her coat, and you imagined it would be one of those nanotech devices she was very fond of lately. "Since I'm no goldsmith or jeweler, I had to leave it to the professionals."

Her words didn't make sense to you until she opened the tiny box, and even then your brain was slow trying to understand what was happening. The box held inside a silver ring with a small diamond at the center of it, accompanied by two other tiny diamonds at the sides of it, with an intricate design carved on the ring that made it look as if it was wrapped in vines.

"I know this wasn't in our plans yet, and it may seem a bit of an extreme measure from my part wanting to keep people away from you. But when people ask me, I want to tell them I'm yours." She took the ring out of the box and put it in front of you. "Will you do me the honor of calling you mine? (Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?"

"You're unbelievable, Lena Luthor." It took some time picking your jaw from the floor.

"Is that a yes?" Lena asked hopefully, she was getting nervous.

"Yes, it is. Yes!" You launched yourself towards her, wrapping your arms around her, almost falling from the couch.

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x female reader #fem reader #Female reader #fem!reader #call you mine #one shot #request #lena luthor x you

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

GLOW (one-shot)

Part of the Stray Wolves Series

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Changbin (SKZ)

Warnings: language, smut, some dirty talk, mentions of knotting, and there’s fluff at the end because I can’t help myself

Genre: Werewolf AU; Marriage AU; Sequel

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Changbin was rather overprotective of their unborn pups, but Y/N knew that he was just doing his best for his future family. However, she still has those days where she misses their nights of intimacy, and Y/N might have a few tricks up her sleeve when it comes to seducing her hesitant mate.

It was too early in the morning to deal with the dawning sunlight penetrating the floral curtains in my bedroom. I was certain that the outside world had decided to disturb the lingering effects of slumber that refused to let me open my eyes. I tried to ignore the natural alarm clock, burying myself closer against my mate as he slept next to me. For whatever reason, Changbin had figured out a way to block out the effects of the morning sun, even as the angle drew waves of light across the room.

There was only so much that my sensitive eyesight could take before I was forced to abandon the prospect of more sleep. And I thought that it was unfair that Changbin should continue to sleep peacefully while I suffered alone. “Binnie,” I whispered, clinging almost desperately to Changbin’s outstretched limbs. I mostly blamed the pregnancy hormones because every active instinct was begging me for Changbin’s attention.

“Y/N?” Changbin answered groggily, voice thick with sleep as he squinted his eyes to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, letting him know that it wasn’t a big deal. “Hormones.”

“Yeah?” Changbin replied with a chuckle, using one strong arm to drag me even closer.

I allowed him the close contact, enjoying the calming warmth emanating from his bare chest. It might’ve been a simple solution to my morning light predicament, especially when Changbin started to brush his fingers through my hair in a gentle rhythm. My eyelids fluttered in delight, hands finding purchase against his smooth skin. But when Changbin started to move himself into an upright position, I immediately released a pathetic whine, clawing at him to return next to my side. “What are you doing?”

“I’m scheduled for a hunting patrol,” Changbin replied, and he easily unwound my arms from around his trim waistline. And I gave up on any attempts that could’ve convinced him to return to our shared bed, finding a comfortable position on my back as I clung to the remnants of sleep. However, when I approached the precipice of unconsciousness once again, something cold and wet touched my arm, and I groaned in complaint when I realized that it was Changbin’s nose. I studied him from my vulnerable state as my mate somehow managed to crawl over top of me.

“Changbin,” I whined, feeling pressured from the overbearing warmth of his upper body as he sniffed across my stomach. “You’re gonna get them all riled up!”

“How are they?” he asked, with just a faint hint of a soothing purr at the back of his throat. The question itself was in reference to our unborn pups, growing each day as we progressed closer to my due date.

They must’ve been able to detect the presence of their father, moving uncomfortably inside as I squirmed around on the bed. “The pups are fine,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully when Changbin pressed a hand to the swell of my stomach.

His smile was contagious, eyes bright with pride as he felt the evidence of the little pups. “What about you?” Changbin asked, looking up at me with the dark eyes that I adored.

“Well, let’s see.” I grinned. “The morning sickness is there, and I feel bloated and sore and strangely horny...”

Changbin scoffed, sitting back on his haunches. “I can’t do much about the first two.”

“Oh?” I asked, feeling the familiar coils of desire lighting themselves from somewhere deep inside of me. “And the third?”

Changbin smirked before he crawled off the bed, leaving me to whine after him. “What am I supposed to do when I’m scheduled to hunt?”

“You can still give me your cock,” I said, and my mouth started watering at the prospect, eyeing the familiar bulge in his dark pants.

“Shameless,” he remarked, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of my head before he started for the door. “I’m leaving, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I huffed, watching Changbin until the door blocked him from my line of vision.

In the meantime, I was left to my own devices, and I found myself in good company with a close friend. Even though Chan’s mate was younger than me, I still enjoyed her comforting presence when there wasn’t much for me to handle during my pregnancy. Despite my wolf’s desire to run out into the woods and explore the territory, I was forced to withhold those urges and keep myself inside the camp. But at least I could still try to prove useful, stitching together a sweater for my unborn pup while Chan’s mate regaled me with stories of the outside world.

“That looks...interesting?” she offered once I held up the pathetic excuse for a sweater that I had just made. It turned out that my stitching skills needed more work.

“I wanted to make them something nice,” I pouted, studying the intricate sweater design and wondering where I had went wrong.

“It takes time,” she said, and I knew that it was only an attempt to make me feel better.

“Well, I have plenty of that,” I muttered, and I found my wandering gaze searching a returning patrol because I missed the familiar freedom of shifting.

Chan’s mate seemed to notice the change in my mood, offering me a helping hand as we both stood up together. “Why don’t we go to the nursery?” she suggested. “We can visit some of the younger pups.”

I nodded at the idea, brightening at the prospect. “I’d love that.”

She giggled, offering me an arm to assist me as we made our way to the other side of the camp where the nursery was carefully maintained. It provided the most protection, especially during times of potential conflict, and we nodded at our pack mates who were guarding the entrance, receiving polite bows in return. After all, we were the mates of our pack’s alpha and beta, which meant a lot considering the reliance that we had on hierarchies.

However, I still wasn’t used to seeing my pack mates show me that kind of respect, and I almost resented my position. But in any case, I was relieved to distract my thoughts with the overwhelming sweet smell of milk, and I couldn’t resist cooing at the sight of the little pups playing at the center of the room. It was definitely post-naptime for most of them, and I smiled as they shifted at whim, colliding together as they wore off their accumulated energy.

“Y/N,” one of the mothers greeted me, beckoning me closer while she held a tiny pup in her arms.

“Hello,” I said, lowering my voice so as not to startle the small pup.

“I can’t believe Changbin let you wander around the camp,” she joked, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Cabin fever,” I offered in return, and she laughed before nodding down at the pup who was looking at me with wide eyes.

“This is my daughter,” she said. “I think she likes you.”

“Really?” I asked, crossing my legs underneath me as I settled down on the floor. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The younger pup whined, but looked to her mother for guidance. “Go ahead! You can talk to Y/N.”

The pup still hesitated before leaving the safety of her mother’s arms to stand in front of me. “Hi.”

I smiled at the pup’s timid voice, and I instinctually smoothed a hand down the front of my stomach. “Would you like to feel them?” I asked, and younger pup nodded as I led her hand to my stomach.

At the first kick she felt, the pup immediately jumped back, holding her hand close to her chest as she looked at me with wide eyes. “Did you feel that?” I asked, and she nodded. “Those are my pups.”

There was a little gasp from the younger girl, and she looked positively mystified at the interesting development. Meanwhile, I noticed that a familiar scent had permeated the milky smell of the nursery, and I didn’t even need to turn around to notice Changbin’s return. “I helped make them,” Changbin added with a proud smile.

“Don’t say that,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I shot the pup’s mother an apologetic look.

“It’s fine,” the mother assured me, and she opened her arms for the curious little pup who didn’t hesitate to snuggle close.

“She’s beautiful,” I told her, and she nodded in gratitude. “Changbin,” I finally said, turning around to look at my mate. “I thought you were busy.”

“The patrol ended early,” Changbin explained. “We found a lot of prey by the riverside.”

“Oh?” I grinned, holding out my hand for him, which my mate didn’t hesitate to accept. “Does this mean we can go back to the cabin and cuddle?”

Changbin laughed at my request, but his hand was firm around my waist as we both waved at Chan’s mate who was still busy playing with a rambunctious group of older pups. “Whatever you want,” Changbin said, burying his nose close to my scent gland. “But first, we need to find you something to eat.”

I groaned at that idea because my appetite had been all over the place since the start of my pregnancy. But I knew that I couldn’t skip another meal, so I allowed Changbin to dote on me, finding us something delicious as we settled next to our pack mates in the communal dining room. It was comfortable and nice, and I kept my hand wrapped around Changbin’s as I answered questions about my unborn pups, feeling my wolf’s satisfaction at having the ones she loved so close where she liked them the most.

Later that night, Changbin and I returned to our shared cabin. As the pack Beta, our living quarters were located close to the alpha’s, and we enjoyed the privacy of the secluded living arrangements. Because when we first mated, Changbin and I often snuck away to our cabin throughout the day, unable to keep our hands to ourselves.

I considered those instances as part of the “honeymoon” phase of our relationship, and I sometimes longed for the intimacy that we shared. Unfortunately, Changbin had decided that we both needed to remain celibate during my pregnancy, for reasons that defied my rational understanding. Of coure, I was also convinced that he still liked to tease me on purpose. For example, I bit my lower lip to keep myself from moaning at the sight of Changbin re-emerging from our shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. And I took a deep breath, smoothing my hand down my stomach. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Changbin said, reaching for a pair of loose black pants. I watched him drop his towel with a heavy exhale.

“What did Chan say about his meeting with the Vampire King?” I asked.

“I think it’s a territorial dispute,” Changbin said, and he sounded perfectly nonchalant, matching the easy way that he was tying the drawstring of the same pants that were hugging his outline of his ass.

“So, everything is good?” I asked, studying the delicious lines of his muscles as he started walking towards the bed.

"We’ll have it sorted out,” Changbin said, and he smiled at me before brushing a gentle kiss across my lips.

I moaned at the taste of him, and it was the opportunity that I had been looking for after all this time, tightening one of my hands against the back of his neck to hold him close. Changbin released a noise of surprise, and I used the advantage to run my tongue across the seam of his lips. Because the sensation was addictive, and it had been a while since I kissed Changbin like this.

“Y/N,” Changbin whispered, breaths heavy as he kissed me in return, passionate and sensual exchanges of oxygen and the warm, wet sensation of his tongue against mine.

“Please, Changbin,” I whined, palming at his cock while giving him a look that I hoped he wouldn’t be able to resist.

He sighed in response, settling down next to me on the bed. “Y/N,” he repeated, and I could see the familiar doubt reflecting heavy in his gaze. “What if I hurt them?” Changbin asked, hesitating even as his cock started to fill out the impressive bulge in his black pants.

“Come on!” I groaned, throwing one of my legs over his hip to leisurely grind my wet heat against his erection. “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”

I traced my hands along the smooth contours of his chest, looking into his eyes while tweaking one of his nipples. “Hey!” Changbin protested, and I grinned in response before sucking on the sensitive peak.

I pulled off with an obscene pop, tracing my lower lip with my tongue. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want it.”

I traced the outline of his cock to prove my point, tightening the fabric to create an obscene image. “Seriously, Changbin? How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay? I’m ready to beg at this point.”

“Y/N.” Changbin sighed, closing his eyes and throwing back his head while I continued to stroke him through his pants. Soft, seductive touches, and I successfully bunched the fabric of his pants separating the two of us before adding pressure to his sensitive cockhead. Changbin moaned in response, eyes flying open as he looked at me with nothing but pure lust reflected in his delicate orbs.

I released a breathy gasp when he abruptly switched our positions, using his strength to crawl over me with a smirk. “Was I convincing?” I asked him, moaning when he started to undo the string on my shorts. The thin fabric was forced down my legs, and I watched them fall into the floor while Changbin made a show of pushing my thighs apart.

“Does this little pussy need some attention?” he asked, raising one brow while keeping his eyes fixed on mine. It was intentionally provocative, especially when his tongue made a single stripe along the crease of my labia.

“Fuck,” I cursed, reaching down for the smooth strands of his hair, holding on for dear life as my legs started shaking.

Changbin growled in response, flicking his tongue against my clitoris while his fingers parted my folds, studying my leaking cunt with unwavering focus. “You’re dripping for me,” he said, and I nodded while hooking my thighs around his hips, guiding his clothed erection against where I wanted him the most.

“Changbin,” I groaned, watching him through heavy eyes as he removed his pants and boxers, leaving him completely naked and on display for my eyes as I made a leisurely exploration of his powerful form. Nothing but raw and sensual power that I had seen for myself in his defined biceps, and I often found myself hypnotized by the thick curves that built his torso.

“I’ll give you my cock, slut,” he hissed, gripping himself at the base as he gave himself several strokes to full hardness.

I started panting when he inserted just the tip, examining my face for any sign of discomfort. “It’s fine,” I huffed, impatiently trying force myself onto his cock since he was going far too slow for my liking.

“We’ll do this at my pace,” Changbin said, and there was an undeniable command behind his words that left me whimpering. I nodded in response, doing my best to appease him, as he slowly drove his cock all the way inside until his hips were flush against mine.

“Faster,” I whispered, throwing my head back because I was feeling pleasure from my mate for the first time since I discovered that I was pregnant. At some point, a girl will start to miss moments like this, drooling into the pillow while her big, strong alpha used his cock to bring her closure to the edge. “I’m not gonna last long.”

Changbin hummed in response, reaching down to apply a powerful grip on my hips as he started moving me at his command, looking down to watch his cock penetrate the convulsing walls of my leaking pussy. There was a pleasant friction as he stretched me out around his erection, and I savored the familiar sensation that I had been denied for so long - the kind of feeling that I had discovered for myself when Changbin mated me for the first time, searing his mark into the soft flesh of my neck while he drove his cock inside at a maddening pace.

It had been so long since I had experienced the thickness of his cock, and I could feel myself growing dizzy because my body wasn’t used to the familiar coils of my orgasm building in rapid succession. I was practically choking around stuttered moans when Changbin decided to abandon his previous reservations concerning our coupling. At this point, his hips were thrusting so fast that I could hardly perceive the motion, and I could feel every inch of his thick erection sliding against my walls while his knot started to catch against my vulva.

“Shit, Y/N,” Changbin snarled, and his leaned down to inhale at my scent gland. But the change in angle was exactly what I needed, and I could feel him hitting against my g-spot over and over again when I finally released months of built-up tension in a loud moan that I could barely contain.

Changbin followed shortly thereafter, smacking hips against my ass as he lifted me higher into the air, stuffing his cock so deep that I could feel him all the way at the head of my uterus. He then came with a loud groan, sweat perspiring against the hard planes of his chest, and he pulled himself free before his knot could trap us in place.

I could feel my mouth gaping open at the sight of his knot, watching as he continued stroking himself before tapping the head of his cock against my lips. “Open up for me,” he snarled, and I instantly obeyed his order, unclenching my jaw as I widened my mouth for his cock - taking him in until the tip touched the back of my throat and I gagged because it was borderline too much. “What a good girl,” he said, and I manged to run my tongue around the bulge of his knot as it pressed against my lips - whimpering when he used me as nothing more than another hole for his cum.

And he tasted bitter when I finally swallowed, choking around most of his release because it had been a while since I had given Changbin head. However, it was worth the effort to hear his sinful moans, gasping for breath when he pulled his flaccid length from my mouth. “Y/N,” he said, and his voice was far more gentle. “Let me run you a bath.”

I nodded in response because my throat was still too sore to manage any sort of verbal confirmation. Meanwhile, Changbin chuckled at my condition, and I focused on calming my racing heart while I heard the sound of running water from our bathroom. “I just took a shower,” he remarked upon his return, and I held tightly to him when he lifted me into his arms, carrying me into the bathroom with absolute ease.

I sighed in relief when I rested my head against his chest, submerged in the warm water as our hands interlocked on top of my stomach. “When they get here,” Changbin whispered, lips tracing the shape of my ear. “I’ll do my absolute best to protect all of you.”

I smiled at the sentiment, savoring this perfect moment even though I knew that there would be many more to come.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids writer #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids one-shot #seo changbin #stray kids changbin #stray kids changbin fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #seo changbin smut

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years ago

Note

Can we get some spare Launo headcannons for July?

Launo sucked big time at knight school when he first arrived—he didn’t exactly have any background help given no one in his family was a knight either. He was basically assigned the equivalent of “equipment manager” during the first few months. And when he did get proper actions with a broadsword or a bow, Launo struggled with footwork and precision and all the minute details of a duel so he often got his ass handed to him.

But one the top kids in Launo’s class thought he was cool anyways—that was, one Arcadius Hartell. Pretty, rich, ace with sword, bow, spear, and anything sharp, and pretty much had no flaws or weaknesses. Launo at first thought the guy was just pitying him, the kid who has never won a single sparring match and consistently put on training dummy duty (that is reattaching their heads when they got lopped off)

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Arcadius came to ask something from him.

“How do you do that?”

Launo turned from the training dummy he was working on. “S-Sorry, what?”

“The...the thing you do. With the...thing?” Arcadius pointed to the needle and thread Launo was holding as he was reattaching the dummy’s forearm. “How do you do that?”

Launo scrunched his eyebrows in confuzzlement. “This is, uh, well. It’s just sewing I guess. If this guy were real I guess it would be stitching, haha...” He patted the dummy’s wood shoulder playfully as if joking with a pal—the dummy immediately tipped over, Launo coughed and stepped in front of the mess to ignore it. Arcadius nodded thoughtfully.

“So, do you have a special technique or something?”

“I mean, not really, it’s just regular old sewing...”

“But I assume you’ve spent years training on the art.”

“I...uh...I guess? My mom taught me.”

“Oh! So it’s like...an apprenticeship...?”

“...Are you under the impression that sewing is some sacred gift that gets passed down to the worthy or something?”

“.........no....”

The two boys just stood awkwardly for a moment longer, Launo studying Arcadius’ face.

“You don’t even know what sewing is do you?”

“O-Of course I do! It’s the...thing.” He made a sword motion with his fingers, as if wielding a tiny blade. “You stab the stuff and it repairs. With the...” Arcadius squinted as he thought for a moment, “...stool...”

“Spool?”

“Yeah! That! So, look, you’re pretty skilled at everything—“

“I am??” Launo took a step back in shock.

“Yeah! You always fix the equipment, and somehow haul around all those weapons, and make us cool lunches—“

“I don’t know, I made Rubeo vomit last week cause I forgot he hates blueberries...”

Arcadius shook his hands. “N-Not the point. And he sort of deserves it. The fact is you’re obviously leagues ahead of the game—“

“I—Actually I wouldn’t say—“

“—so you just gotta teach me everything you know!” Arcadius pumped a fist and closed his eyes. “How could I ever call myself a knight if I don’t even learn the basics of equipment management! Who will mend the wounded holes in my soldier’s pride if I can’t even fix the tears in my uniform! A mountain’s peak is equivalent to the shallow shore if you have no bearing of the heights you soar.”

Launo blinked. “Are you...okay?”

Arcadius scratched his head. “Aha...sorry. That’s a quote from Aria Nori’s newest volume. Guess I was too into the moment there.”

“Oh! The Zora poet! I’ve read her stuff! I haven’t read her latest volume, but my dad often binds her books—“

“Really?!” Arcadius’ eyes were suddenly star struck. “That’s so cool! This is all the more reason you gotta teach me this stuff.” He waved again at the collapsed training dummy. “Maybe start with the beetle and thread.”

“Needle. D-Do you not know what a needle is?”

Arcadius’ eyes glazed over. “...no...oh my gods that’s not gonna be on the test is it?? I’m so screwed—“

“Nonono it’s not, I’m just...” Launo bit his tongue. Now that he thought about it, he never really saw anyone else in his class do mundane house chore stuff. They were far too busy sharpening swords and bragging about their parents or grandparents or great uncles or cousins that totally were war heroes and high ranking political figures. Sewing could just be a Hateno thing, could it..?

“Can’t you just hire someone to teach you?” Launo started. “I mean, I’m super flattered! Just that, I’m not exactly a master at this, so I’m sure there are adults out there that are more accomplished.”

Arcadius hung his head. “I don’t think my dad would let me...Pretty much everything not sword related he just hires someone to do for me. And he’s super picky about what training I focus on.”

“Well it’s not really official training, it could just be a hobby.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, sounding out the word. “H...Hob...?”

“O-OK, just forget that. H-How about...” Launo didn’t meet his eyes as he absentmindedly kicked the dirt. “Y-You like poetry, right? You can come over to my house and look at my dad’s collection. And when we’re there, I can let my mom...” He scrunched his eyes, trying to nail down the words, “...apprentice you? On the...art, of sewing?”

Arcadius’ eyes were wide enough to reflect the heavens themselves. “R-Really?? You’d do that??”

“I don’t see why not. It’ll be after call and,” Launo’s eyes suddenly sparked, “...You can just tell your dad that you’re training me! Say that you were asked to help your fellow classmates cause you’re already so far ahead from everyone else.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie, Launo thought, bitterly.

“Hmm...” Arcadius tapped his chin, before shrugging. “Might have to tweak the explanation to ‘getting extra credit for top grades by tutoring’ cause I don’t know how he’ll feel about me helping the competition.” He articulated the last word with a mocking, adulting tone. Then he held out a hand. “But I think it sounds like a deal! I’ll give you some pointers, and you introduce me to your mentor.”

“My mom.”

“Yeah, that.”

Launo shook his hand, still a bit timidly, given he now noticed that a few other boys in the training yard were watching the prodigy student interact with the glorified janitor boy.

So they both tutored each other: Larc, in the art of knowing what sewing magic was (Larc bringing the most expensive and ornate needle Launo had ever seen, even though Larc claimed he just found it in his father’s closet) and brewing delicious broths (“Wait, you have to stand around this pot for hours and cook this stuff?? I thought you just made soup in a bowl! You know, like how servants take off the silver cover on the tray and the soup is already there?” “We...dont have waiters or anything...so our method of cooking different.”) Meanwhile, Launo was able to make some progress with knight training—keyword, “some.”

“Don’t make your stance so wide.” Arcadius shoved Launo’s back foot with his boot. “Keep your feet closer together, you only want enough distance so that your front foot can hover an inch off the ground while your back foot stays planted. Any further, and you’ll topple too easily.”

Launo adjusted his stance as instructed, and readied the rapier again. He set his jaw. “OK. Come at me!”

Arcadius nodded. He picked up the wooden sword and swung (a bit slowly and wide) at Launo’s side.

Launo immediately shoved his rapier point left to counter his attack, but instead moved with such force and vigor that he practically fell onto Arcadius’ blade.

Arcadius chuckled, dropping the sword and helping Launo up again. “You don’t need to use to much force when you swing. In fact it’s better to work with simple quick movements with any rapier or piercing sword, since the damage is done by the tip, not the weight.”

“S-Sorry...” Launo mumbled as he got up again.

“Don’t be! Oh hey!” Arcadius suddenly went back around towards the pile of weapons and pulled out a claymore. “Actually, maybe a sword like this will work better for you! You won’t have to worry as much about holding back, or being finesse. All the power is in that downward swing—!” Arcadius swung the sword into a nearby log to demonstrate, nearly cutting it asunder.

He offered it to Launo. “And don’t let the size fool you, it’s not actually that heavy. Large weapons still need to let soldiers be quick enough to parry and block attacks.”

Launo turned the claymore around in his hands, studying the blade and handle.

Arcadius gestured to the log. “Well, go on! It’s similar to the grip I taught you with the broadsword, but this time you use your other hand in the bottom to support the weight as it turns on an axis. Try that downward swing I showed you!”

Launo paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he planted his foot down, and swung the claymore down with all his might, aiming for another soon-to-be piece of firewood.

The claymore whistled as it fell, and it cut into the log deep—about halfway. Yet, still not nearly as deep as how Arcadius had done it.

Nonetheless, he was hopping with joy for Launo. “That was awesome!! You did great!!”

He sighed as he left the claymore in the log. “No I didn’t...”

“What are you talking about? That was probably the best blow you’ve done all night!”

“Yeah! And it’s not even a quarter of the damage that you did with your swing!”

“Well, it still took me a while to—“

Launo gestured to the other log. “It’s been how many weeks?? And I’m not even CLOSE to being as good as you, much less being a top student...” He plopped into the dirt and laid himself out like a starfish.

Larc stood over him, confused. “Why would you want to be a top student?”

“BECAUSE I SUCK ASS, DUDE!” Launo held up his arms, exasperated. Larc, on instinct, stepped back and held his hands close to his chest as he fiddled with his thumbs and mumbled an apology. Launo immediately sighed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m mad at you. You’re really great, Link. You’re so nice to me and you’re talented and I’m so grateful, but I’m just...” He shifted in the dirt again. “I don’t think I could ever be like you. I’d even dare to say it’s impossible.”

Larc stilled, playing with his thumbs, before daring to step closer and sit in the dirt beside him.

“Can I tell you a secret, Launo?”

He was quiet, but he nodded a yes.

“I think my brother’s a stronger fighter than me.”

Launo furrowed his eyebrows confused, but he continued.

“He just never takes his knight training seriously, because of my father. But I bet if he really tried, he’d be great at it.”

Ah. So that’s what he meant.

“But I AM trying.” Launo whined. “I guess compared to you it doesn’t seem like much but—!”

“Nono! Sorry that’s not what I meant!” Larc quickly cut in. “I just...” He trailed off.

“...There’s a reason I have to be the best.” Larc finally said. He was looking out into the woods, but Launo felt that he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular, maybe deep in thought. “There’s a reason I can’t settle, I can’t rest. It’s really important that I get this all right. And I guess that makes me admirable to most people but...”

He looked down at Launo, still spread out in the dirt. “I didn’t really choose to be a knight, unlike you. I didn’t actually choose to be the best, and I don’t get why so many people do train to be at the top out of their own violation. It really...sucks ass.” He articulated the last part in Launo’s tone, and they both giggled.

“So...I guess that I’m trying to say here is that...” He thought one his words a moment longer. “I think so many people are afraid of trying new things, because they fear not being the best at it, not being at the top. And I suppose ambition is good but...” He tilted his head and shrugged at Launo. “As someone who’s supposedly at the top, I would say I envy anybody that can make progress that their proud of. You choose to be a knight, and you’re training for it out of your own strength and courage. That’s more than I’ll ever have, so you should probably get off the ground and realize that soon.”

Launo’s eyes widened, a bit unnerved by how uncharacteristically blunt Larc was being.

“In my opinion, anyone that aims to be better than everyone is stupid—maybe that’s just me, but...I would think that if I was you, I’d be proud of any progress I made. If I was more skilled than I was yesterday, that’s really all I would care about. Why would I care about being the top of my class? I would kill to just be satisfied with being a better me.”

There was silence as the boys took in Larc’s words. Then he suddenly stood up. “G-Goddess Hylia, sorry I’ve been talking for so long, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” He went to collect his things. “You can keep the claymore, I think you’d be great at it, just...”

Larc packed his swords and backpack, before turning back to the flopped out Launo. “...I think you’re really cool, Launo. So don’t tap out for my sake—I’m not the person that matters in your training, am I? So don’t give up for any silly reasons like that.”

Launo perked his head up to meet his gaze. While Arcadius was usually serious and controlled during training at school, Larc always seemed to have genuine excitement about swords when it came to him. The bright smile on his face caused his cheeks to warm and he immediately flipped his head back to hide it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Launo!” Larc ran off into the night, a cobblestone streets in the distance swallowing his figure.

“See you...” Launo whispered.

He lay in the dirt a moment longer—his mother would probably berated him for the stains again—when he finally got up and looked at the claymore in the log. He walked up to it and observed it further, it was another a sixth of the way deep. He glanced at Larc’s log, which was nearly split in two, and sighed. Then he glanced back at his own work.

“Well, it’s better than when I first started I guess...” Launo mumbled.

No one responded.

The boy let out a huff, and gripped the sword again in his hands.

“But I can do better.”

By the time Launo was 16 he was finally beating his classmates with ease, specializing in longswords, axes, and hammers. And while he definitely still “sucked ass” in things like archery and lance work—to which some boys still teased him for—he found overtime that he no longer cared about what they thought. They had their strengths, and he had his. And to top it off, absolutely no one in the academy could make a lemon cookie like him. So at least he had the best in show for that angle.

Even years later, after certain incidents transpired concerning House Hartell, Launo always welcomed Larc to his house for “training.” Although after a while, it would be hard to still call it that when a large chunk of time is really just spent running their fingers through each other’s hair.

“But we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

And even years after graduating as part of the top ten in his class and working as a knight, some of his old classmates would tease him for being the “rich boy’s lap dog,” Launo would find that he still really didn’t care—after a punch or two was thrown, of course. He found that his new lack of anxiety and concern heavily stemmed from that night, when Larc had told him about his envy for choice and satisfaction. Thinking back at the memory of his handling with a sword and his happy little smile once made Launo blush so hard his father teased him about it for the rest of his life—his mother claimed he went so red he would fit right in with the tomato stew. One of these days, Launo would pay Larc back for the endless teasing he got from his parents. And pay Larc back he would, indeed.

I mean, he already had the ring.

#hku spoilers #Launo Birch

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vampcubus · 5 years ago

Note

could u do a hc or ficlet (whichever u prefer!) of midoriya with an S/O who’s a little taller than him and he gets self conscious bc someone makes a joke about him being shorter and his s/o finds out he’s insecure and just KISSES his cheeks a ton and tells him all the things she loves about him (his freckles, height, hair)... thank you!!!! ❤️

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓

izuku midoriya x tall!reader

a/n: comfort fics are my weakness!

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘! hurt/comfort, insecure izuku, tall!fem!reader.

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘! 3.6k+

Izuku leaned his head against your shoulder as he scribbled away in his notebook, his pencil working out the basic curves of your face in the sketch of your newest hero costume.

Your support partner really outdid themselves with your new design, he mused. It allowed you so much more control over your quirk and looked awesome too! He wondered if there were aspects of the suit he was forgetting though. He looked up to ask, only for his mouth to fall shut and a small fond smile to grace his gentle features when he notices you’d long dozed off on the class bus.

No matter, now that you were asleep he could steal longer glances without consequence.

“I can feel your eyes, ‘zuku. Quit staring,” you chuckled, eyes still closed as you stirred.

He jumped, eyes retreating from you as he buried his face in your shoulder, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Izuku squeaked, not bothering to deny it. He knew you could see right through any lie anyway.

You cracked a lid open when you heard his pencil-scratching continue and smiled when you saw him sketching you in the corner of your eye. You stretched your arms above your head until you heard your back crack, trying to sneakily peek over at his drawing, slumping back in your seat when Izuku only tilted his notebook away from you.

“What’re you working on?” You asked, drawing your legs up to your chest in the seat.

“O-oh, um, I was just working on a sketch of your new hero costume,” Izuku admitted finally, and you perked up at that.

“Oh really? Can I see?” You asked eagerly, flattered that he took the time to draw you just because you got a few upgrades. Resigned, Izuku blushed but nodded, and opened his notebook wider to let you see his progress.

You smiled when you saw all the side notes he’d written around the sketch, breaking down each part of it as if he’d made your costume himself. You’d always admired how observant he was, but this was somehow more personal.

“Wow… you’re so talented,” you complimented, your pretty eyes shining as they examined the sketch. He bit his lip, feeling a tinge of pride for having impressed you.

“Thanks!”

“But,” You cocked your head to the side and stared thoughtfully at it, noticing something wasn’t quite right. You reached for his hand that held the pencil and moved it over to the drawing.

“May I?” You asked, and he nodded wordlessly, eyes fixated on your fingers as they guided his hand across the paper. You added a few details he’d forgotten about your costume, writing your notes right next to his. Things only the owner of the suit would know, even the weak points. You must really trust him, he thought.

Izuku listened carefully, taking in each of your additions and analyzing the changes. His heart skipped a beat when he saw your distinct handwriting beside his. He had to bite his lip to contain a fanboyish smile.

Stepping out of the bus, you take his hand and walk to your next class together, still engaged in a comfortable conversation.

Everything was nice and well until you heard a student make a snarky side comment.

“Hey, L/n, is that your little brother or something?” They asked, chuckling.

You, having not seen the malice in the comment, gently corrected them.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.” You squeezed Izuku’s hand in emphasis, and the student quirked a brow.

Now that you got a closer look, you recognized him. Someone you went to primary school with. You got on well on the playground, but that was years ago. Way too many years ago to still be familiar enough for playful banter.

“Kinda short for you isn’t he?” He joked.

There went the benefit of the doubt you were willing to give. Washirou had always been the nonchalant bully, too tame for teachers to correct but you always wondered why he had to make others feel bad to sleep well at night.

What a loser, you snerked internally.

“Pshh, look who’s talking. You’ve been shorter than me since second grade,” you snerked, several of his buddies forced to look away so he wouldn’t see them cracking up at his expense. "Besides, I think he’s cute the way he is.”

You ruffled your boyfriend’s green curls comfortingly, but he still shied away from the conversation entirely.

Izuku was well aware he wasn’t the tallest, and he’ll admit to being the slightest bit insecure about it.

Briefly, Izuku wondered if you ever thought about dating a taller guy. Girls found that more attractive right? Being smaller than their boyfriends was attractive right? At least that’s what he’d read about in those feminine magazines his mom used to get in the mail. The thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he found himself squeezing your hand tighter. His anxiety lessens when he feels you squeeze back, sparing a glance at your face to see a reassuring smile on your lips.

But of course, Washirou has to open his stupid mouth again, undeterred by your clap back.

“I didn’t know you were into short guys,” He laughed and his friends snickered. "You really think this pipsqueak can keep up with how you’re growing?”

Your smile faltered, feeling suddenly defensive. He wasn’t tall enough to be talking that crap.

“And? What’s wrong with that?” You defended, your tone chilly and eyes even colder.

Washirou avoids your gaze, realizing he’s taken things a bit too far. He must remember the time you beat him to a pulp under the slides when you caught him bullying a childhood friend of yours.

“C’mon, Izuku.” You wrapped an arm around Izuku’s shoulders and led him away from the group. He didn’t need to hear all that bullshit.

"Okay," he murmured but threw one last glance over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but overthink your potential past with the guy, did you used to be a thing or something? His stomach twists in knots at the thought.

He wraps a possessive arm around your hip as you walked to class.

Izuku was unusually quiet throughout the rest of the day, which struck you as odd because he always had something to talk about between classes. So you were a little taken aback when instead of gushing with Iida and Uraraka during lunch, he was focused on an assignment.

His quiet mood persisted to the end of the day, even on your walk back to your dorms together.

“You wanna stay and study for a bit?” you offered. Izuku likely knew by now that you weren’t interested in doing much studying, but you recalled that he always indulged you anyways. Which is why you’re surprised when he hesitates.

His eyes dart around the hallway for an excuse that wouldn’t hurt your feelings.

“Oh, well… I uh… probably shouldn’t. Last time we fell asleep and Aizawa almost found out and…” he rambled and you frowned, realizing what he was doing.

“Please? I miss you,” You pressed sweetly, recalling his weakness when you said that before. Some might call it manipulative, you call it gentle persuasion.

You hear him sigh and know you’ve got him.

“Okay, but just for a while,” he laughs, though it lacks its usual mirth.

The moment Izuku steps into your room, he feels himself relax.

Your comforting scent permeates the room, and seeing the polaroids of you two together stuck to your walls makes him smile. You crawl onto your bed and kneel into a sitting position, tugging your tie loose and tossing it to hang on the doorknob. Izuku follows suit, crawling onto the mattress with you, and unzipping his bag to pull out his notes.

“What are we going to work on?” He asked only to raise his brows in confusion when you pulled him away from the edge of the bed, away from his stuff. Curious, he lets you move him close to your side before looking up at you for an explanation.

“You.” You smiled.

“Me?” Izuku parroted, lips pressed into a thin line.

You pat your thighs and instinctively he shifts to rest his head on your lap.

“Tell me what’s bothering you. You’ve been so quiet today,” you demand, fingers tangling in his fluffy hair, twisting the ringlets of curls around your index finger.

Izuku sighs at your affections but can’t quite conjure any excuses.

“Nothing’s wrong. Well sort of, it’s just… I’m just…” Izuku trailed off as he struggled to apply the proper traction across his tongue to lay out how he felt.

The short answer was that he was afraid and even more so insecure. Afraid of not being enough for you. How could you understand how he’s feeling? You’re beautiful, you’re tall, you’re calm when he can’t be, and you hardly ever stuttered whereas he found himself constantly tripping over his words.

He just wasn’t like you.

Everyone’s always telling him how plain and boring he is, who was he to argue?

“You’re just what?” You encouraged, rubbing soothing circles into his temples. Unbeknownst to you, you’re rubbing out the headache he’s formed from stressing over this all day. “You can talk to me.”

“Am I too short for you?” He blurted out.

Your fingers stilled in his hair.

He squints his eyes shut as he waits for your answer, regretting even asking now. He should’ve just shut up and kept it to himself.

You blinked down at his face with wide eyes, not quite sure what to say at first. You can tell your silence is eating away at him though.

“Too short?” You inquire, and Izuku’s embarrassment sets in like a stone at the pit of his stomach. His chest feels tight and his breath stutters with each anxious beat of his heart against his ribcage.

“I mean… I’m not as tall as other guys, and while it’s never bothered me that you’re tall, I-I can’t help but wonder if the fact that I’m short bothers you.” Izuku’s eyes notice the confusion in yours, and as a defense mechanism, he keeps talking. “And I mean, I love that I can lean against you all the time and how you always put your arm around my shoulders when I get distracted.”

Your heart squeezes happily at the way he smiles upon thinking about your mannerisms, but he isn’t quite done talking yet.

“I hate having to ask you to lean down all the time to kiss me because that’s probably bad for your neck. I wouldn’t want you to strain it just cus of me. I would take care of you of course, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let your neck hurt because I love kissing you so much? And I’ve always wondered if maybe…”

You stare with wide eyes, lips pursed in an attempt not to grin as Izuku continues to ramble on.

You realize he’s no longer speaking directly to you, but about you.

A giggle tugs at your vocal cords and you do your best to swallow it as he babbles on and on. You, unfortunately, have to admit you’re no longer listening to him, your focus now dead set on beautifully shifting features as he spoke. The soft fluttering of his eyelashes and the twisting of his lips as he contemplated the smallest of details. His hand comes up to his mouth and chin like it always did when he mumbled, and you felt a familiar fondness pull at your heartstrings as you let him derail from the tracks of his original train of thought.

Your fingers spurred back to life within his hair, stroking through the curled strands absentmindedly as he murmured to himself.

“Mmm, yes that feels nice, thank you,” You hear him hum, contentedly at the sensation, before he continues as if nothing happened.

However, your attention is piqued when his tone dips from contemplative to contempt.

“And I’ve always hated these,” Izuku sighed as he tugged at one cheek, clearly referring to the freckles scattered across his squishable cheeks. “They make me look stupid and childish, I feel like no one takes me seriously because of them and I hate it.”

You frowned at his words, feeling a deep sadness reside within the confines of your chest, poking holes into your heart. Izuku was many things, stupid was not one of them. To say Izuku was anything less than a tactical genius would be ignorant.

He’s not done yet though, he moved his fingers to trace around the large circumference of his eyes.

“And I wish I had smaller eyes, everyone says they make me look like a puppy or a little kid. I know I get them from my mom, and they suit her. They just look… odd and childlike on me,” Izuku groaned, sounding frustrated.

And then his hand traveled into his hair, stuttering when it bumped into yours that played diligently with his mane. His hand jerked away to pull at his bangs instead, trying to articulate the right words to continue his thought.

“Then there’s this mess,” Izuku sighed, eyes fixated on the ceiling.

A pretty mess, you mused internally, smacking his hand away from his bangs defensively. He retracts it, thinking his hand was in the way of your meddling with his hair.

“It’s always so messy and no matter what I do to it, I can never get it to look neat. I’ve even tried gel but I need so much of it that it’s just uncomfortable and sticky.” Izuku made a face, remembering the time he tried to slick it back when he was a bit younger and immediately had to wash it all out because it felt gross. “I’ve also been thinking of dying it a more natural color so it looks less like a tree.”

My tree, you seethe possessively.

“Or I could even dye it a crazy color like Kirishima, maybe then I wouldn’t look so plain…” The green-haired boy lamented.

You’re tearing up at this point, trying to keep the globs of salty tears from spilling. You hadn’t known he was feeling so down about his looks, and hearing him so worked up about the things you adored about him hurting your heart. You can't help but blame yourself for his insecurities. You should have been better at showing him you love him the way he is.

Before he can continue his cynical tangent about himself, you tangled your fingers in his hair and leaned down to press a warm kiss to his trembling lips, and he gasps against your mouth. Izuku blinks his eyes shut and his hand comes up to hold the back of your neck.

When you pull away, he’s looking at you with a confused expression and blushing cheeks- a hopeless habit he can’t quite shake when he’s around you.

“What was that for?” Izuku breathed, sounding a bit dazed as he gazed up at you.

“Baby,” You start with a sigh, and his heart jumps at the pet name, a light pink painting his freckled cheeks. “I couldn’t care less if you’re shorter than me. Height isn’t and never will be important to me, and if this has anything to do with what Washi said earlier, let me tell you right now I’ve never given an inkling of a fuck what that brat thinks. He shouldn’t have said those things. And if he ever bothers you again, you can kindly tell him that I don’t want anything to do with him, and he’ll never be shit compared to you.“

You knew Izuku would never actually say something like that to someone, but it certainly gets your point across.

You closed your eyes and let a rush of air escape from your lungs before you met his wide-eyed gaze.

“I actually love that you’re shorter than me. You’re the perfect size for cuddling!” You lay down and tug Izuku up under his arms to your level, he lays against you with ease, almost in shock. “I would scoop you up in my arms and hold you all day. You're the perfect snuggle buddy.”

You emphasize your point by squeezing your arms around him, feeling him gasp against your neck. Your fingers wandered to his soft cheeks, fingertips brushing over the freckles splayed across the planes of his face in admiration.

You don’t realize you’re breaking him.

“Your freckles are especially important to me because they’re just so undeniably you. I understand that you might not like them too much, but seeing them makes me happy. Makes me wanna draw constellations on your face, just to remind you that you’ve got a galaxy full of stars on those cute cheeks of yours,” you hum, gently tracing lines between each freckle on his skin.

Izuku makes whines in the back of his throat, overwhelmed by your praise.

“And it makes me feel a little sad to hear you don’t like the way your eyes look, cus they’re my favorite thing about you, Izuku,” You confess, and his gleaming eyes stared up into yours with a look of disbelief and awe as your fingers traced the outline of them.

“I might cry a little if you grow out of them because they’re just so pretty. They’re as kind as you are.”

You chuckled at a familiar thought, remembering his comparison between him and a puppy from earlier.

“Granted they are my weakness and you always get what you want because I can never say no to your puppy dog eyes,” You chuckle, recalling all the times you couldn't remain firm cus he gave you the eyes.

Izuku wanted to interject, but every time he tried, nothing came out. He’s been rendered speechless, looking like a fish out of water trying to breathe.

“And about your hair…” There's a gentle fondness to your voice as your fingers retreat into the abyss of his green curls. He can't help but hum as you ruffled your fingers through his hair. “I love when you do that, it’s so hard to resist not touching your hair when I know you like it so much.”

You clear your throat, remembering yourself.

“I want to say if you even think of touching it I'll gnaw your fingers off because I would die without being able to play with it. But I also want you to know that I care deeply about your wishes.“ You closed your eyes once more, curling yourself further around his smaller body as a sigh passed through and brushed against his hair. "So if you genuinely wanted to change the color or try to neaten it up, I would support you one hundred percent! I’d even help you pick out a color and dye it for you if you wanted me to.”

You don’t realize Izuku is shaking at this point, a little too wrapped up in your monologue.

“But I like your hair the way it is. I think it suits you, hardly plain at all if you ask me. I personally couldn’t think of you with any other color… you’d still be as handsome of course, but I dunno how I’d feel about it,” you admitted sheepishly, cursed images of a blond Izuku flashing in your mind.

You didn’t want him to close up about his insecurities if he realized you didn’t agree, because his feelings mattered too. He deserved your honest opinion and your support no matter what he chose to do.

“I love you the way you are, Izuku,” You whispered, finally bringing your rambling praise to a comfortable close by pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead.

You froze when you heard a sniffle from below. His hand clamped over his mouth to smother a sob that wrenched itself from his throat. You felt his hot tears dripping onto your shirt and neck, his body shaking and erupting with muffled sobs. Your heart plummeted and you turned to hug him close to you in an instant, convinced you had said something that upset him, and rushed to apologize.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Did I say the wrong thing? you can tell me if I did, I promise,” You blurted in hushed tones, rubbing circles on his upper back as he wept into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, that’s not it I-I just don’t know how to handle it, thank you, thank you-” His mantra of thank you’s and countless other mutterings of endearment continued as his arms squeeze you tight. You held him through his breakdown, returning as many rushed praises as you could. "I just love you so much, and to hear you say those things I just- I can’t handle it without crying, I’m sorry!”

“Hey hey, stop apologizing. I love you too. Hey now…”

You shushed him and rocked him against you, whispering that everything was alright and that he was allowed to cry. You tried to follow up every I love you with one in return, but at this point, he was babbling it nonsensically.

When he finally calmed, his bawling reduced to tiny hiccups and sniffles, he nuzzled his wet reddened cheek against yours, tangling his scarred fingers in the fabric of your shirt and twisting it in his grasp. As he came around, he started to feel silly for getting so upset before. He knew that you loved him and that something as trivial as height could never come between you. He shouldn’t have let some mean kid get him down like that. Because at the end of the day, your word meant so much more to him.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, sunshine?” You replied, bringing forth a pet name you used when you were feeling particularly sappy.

“Thank you for loving me.”

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #mha x reader #bnha x reader #tall!reader #female reader #fem reader #fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

dokoni-mo · 4 years ago

Text

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 4)

(A/N: oh boy oh boy, welcome back again you lovely people! The series has definitely taken a bold detour from what i had originally planned, but i am really really proud of it so far, and I hope yall like it too :)))) as always, feel free to ask to be added to the taglsit!!! The other chapters are also linked below if you need them for any reason. Thank you all so much for sticking around!!!! One more quick note: the chapters are gonna start to get longer and longer as the series starts to end (we’re in the home stretch!!))

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Three: [x]

Chapter Five: [x]

WARNINGS: mentions of self-loathing, some cursing, otherwise none!!

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name

Word Count: ~4700

~~~

Trying to coax your feelings into calming themselves down around him became harder and harder with the passing days.

His visits became more and more frequent with the passage of time. He would visit your station in his hangar once a day, then twice a day, to sometimes even three times a day. Sometimes his visits were so close together that when he asked for a report on your progress, you had nothing to say to him. This was because you would still be working on the thing you had been working on when he previously came.

Every time this happened, he would rumble out a flat oh. You would giggle in return.

You had made good progress on his TIE over this stretch of time. Finally fixing the main computer to where it would turn on and stay on, you were able to talk to the ship much better, helping you to tell what made the TIE Advanced happy and what didn’t. You were very proud of yourself the night you got to show him your achievement, a broad, giddy grin on your features. He seemed to be pleased by this as well, since he made no attempt to choke you to death or slice you in half. A win, in your book.

Over the expanse of time, you had also grown to be quasi-comfortable around Lord Vader. You were able to place your hands on your hips around him and hold a gaze with him without totally being in fear for your life were you to make a wrong move. As odd as it seemed, you also found yourself able to smile much more often when speaking to him. Your facial gestures were not long, quite the contrary. They were short, simple, mere flashes of your approval and content.

What they lacked in length, however, they made up in authenticity.

Alongside finding yourself smiling much more often, you had also found something much more… intriguing.

Lord Vader seemed far more keen on making some sort of physical contact with you each visit he made. It seemed that at least once a day, one of his large, leather-bound hands would find its way upon some area of your body. Their most common target was your shoulder. The placement of his hand upon your joint was often precedented by you explaining what you had fixed on his ship, how you had fixed it, as well as any improvements you made while doing so. You assumed that hearing that his TIE could maybe one day fly again pleased him greatly, since he was never shy to place a firm hand on your shoulder as some form of… something.

Gratitude? Maybe. Pleasure? Perhaps. Pride? Don’t humor yourself too much, (F/N).

The other common place that his hand would fall upon you was the area from the bottom of your triceps to the top of your forearms. These touches were far quicker than the ones that he placed upon your shoulder, and often done as he was leaving you to your work while he attended to other matters, and always done with just the tips of his fingers. These were the ones that confused you the most. Those were the most unnecessary ones out of all the ones he wished to give you. Why initiate and follow through with them? You didn’t see an obvious reason as to why he had to do them. You presumed that the touches upon your shoulder were a way to keep you progressing with positive reinforcement, but the ones to the side of your arm? You had no way of telling what he was trying to accomplish with those.

Maybe he’s trying to be friendly? I have been more comfortable around him… Maybe he does it just because he wants to…?

No.

That can’t be it at all.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you leaned your head back upon the cot within your quarters, making yourself look up at the dull, gray ceiling, void of any interesting patterns. You had gotten done with your lunch break much quicker than normal that afternoon, and didn’t feel like getting back to work right away. Deciding not to force yourself to do so, you made your way back to your quarters for some alone time before you had to indulge in more alone time but with a heaping pile of TIE trash you had to somehow repair. To indulge in your fleeting moment of relaxation, you had seated yourself on the floor of your quarters, taking off your boots and setting them to the side. Of course, you had shedded your jacket and left it on the surface of your cot alongside your goggles, leaving you in just your tank top, pants, and socks. How professional.

As you sat there in the small expanse of your quarters, you had allowed your mind to wander wherever it wanted to take you. You were only half surprised by the places it did.

Home was a very prominent topic that your brain presented to you. Closing your eyes, you saw images of your home flash within your mind’s eye. You pictured the trees, the wildlife, the plants, the water that flowed nearby your house…

Your home.

Delving further, you pictured your parents and the memories you still had of them. Lying awake at night, you would often replay these memories as a way to help yourself be lulled to sleep. These would comfort you, reminding you of a time where you were truly happy. A time before the Empire.

The Empire.

At the beginning of it's upbringing, you liked the Empire. You liked how it guaranteed safety and security to all of those who joined under its reign. You liked how they would promise of a better life to all of those who willingly came into its arms.

You hated it now.

Hate.

That was one of the only things that you felt now.

You hated the Empire with every fiber of your being. You hated how it allowed you to be so fucking stupid as to leaving your old life behind. You hated that it alienated you almost entirely from the outside world. You hated the old, cranky officers that barked you around. You hated that you had no friends. You hated how you ate the same rations in rotation every week. You hated the Emperor. You hated the moffs. You hated the officers. You hated how they made you feel. You hated how the Empire made you feel.

Feelings.

He made you feel good.

You pretended not to notice the blush that crept its way onto your face every time he touched you. When you would talk to him, the galaxy around you seemed to fade away, making it feel like you and him are the only two people left. When he spoke to you, you would hang off every word he rumbled out of him. To you, he was enamourating. The way he loomed over you, the way he dwarfed you in every regard, the way he spoke to you, the way his breathing made you pay attention to him, the way his voice dripped in authority, the way his aura was soaked in power-

You snapped your head back up to an upright position, your eyes widening and your face reddening. You shook your head, rattling away your thoughts as you washed your face with invisible water.

No, (F/N). Don’t think that way. There’s no way in hell that you’re gonna survive thinking that way.

Taking your hands away from your face, you shot your gaze over to the clock that adorned your small end table. It was only about three minutes until it was get-back-to-work time.

You figured that there was no point in sitting on the floor anymore.

Sighing, you pushed yourself up with your arms and tucked your legs underneath you, raising you onto your feet. Grabbing your goggles off of your bed, you placed them upon your person so that they rested upon your forehead, displacing a few locks of your hair. After a quick shake-out of your hands and legs and a big stretch, you walked over to the door of your quarters, grabbing your boots to put them on in the hallway as you walked.

Pressing the button on the side of the doorframe, you trained your focus on how the door slid back into the wall encasing it, just as it had done hundreds of times before.

Looking past the door frame, you were confused. Instead of the normal lights of the hallway that met your gaze every time prior, you were greeting with a black abyss on the other side of your door. This confused you greatly for a moment.

Are they doing repairs or am I suddenly blind?

Focusing your gaze for a moment longer, you noticed how the black abyss before you was not devoid of light. A soft glow emanated from the abyss in certain areas, and blinked steadily in others in various shapes.

Oh shit.

Feeling your blood run cold, you craned your neck to look upwards near the top of the black pool before you.

Oh, shit.

Lord Vader just barely fit inside of the doorframe. In fact, he technically didn’t, since the top of his helmet was cut off by the top of the structure. His shoulders were so large that you would bet money that he had to turn one in order to walk through. With his cape over his shoulders, hiding his arms from sight, his mask was pointed down upon you like a child pointing a magnifying glass at a helpless ant on the ground. Since you were out of your boots, the height difference between the two of you was even greater than normal.

Fantastic.

Seeing him there before you, you immediately assumed that he was not happy with you. Instead of getting back to work, you had allowed yourself to use your time as you had pleased. This was not tolerated by the Empire. You were expected to always appeal to the Empire, no matter what.

You had failed to do that with your actions today.

Being sure of this scenario in your head, you brought your arms swiftly to your sides to stand at attention in front of the sith lord, your gaze not faltering off of his mask’s eyes.

“L-Lord Vader! I apologize I am not at my station, I just got done with my lunch break early and-”

“It is none of my concern what you wish to do with your mandated break times, (F/N).” he said before you could blubber on any longer.

Your shoulders relaxed as you processed what he said. “Right, of course…”

Not knowing what else to say, you were relieved that he continued on speaking, “I have come here to speak with you, (F/N).”

“What is it, my Lord?” you asked, crossing your arms across your chest.

He paused and stared at you a moment before speaking again, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side.

“I wish to speak to you… privately.”

This sent a shiver down your spine. Privately? He always spoke to you privately, per say, but it was never by his specific request. Even now, you were in private. No one else was in their quarters that you knew of. But this was…

Different.

Knowing that he would dislike you making him walk all the way back to his hangar, you were faced with your only option.

Let him in.

“Uhm, well… we could speak here, My Lord, if you wish…” you peeped out as you nodded over your shoulder into the contents of your quarters.

Shifting his gaze from your face briefly to point his mask towards the expanse of your room, he made no attempt to speak. After looking into your room for a brief moment, he rumbled out a short, hasty, “That will suffice.”

With the words of his approval, you dropped your gaze and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear as you stepped to the side, forcing your back to meet the wall to your left. Lord Vader saw this movement as your consenting invitation for him to enter your chambers, and he did so quickly and hastily. Much to your expectations, he did have to turn one of his shoulders in order for him to fit inside your doorframe. This would have ordinarily made you smile to yourself, if you were not so nervous about having a sith lord inside your quarters.

Pushing the button on the side of your doorframe again, you bit your lip as you watched the door slip out of the wall and entrap you within your small room with Vader. You were now undoubtedly, unquestionably, almost unimaginably alone with the sith.

Here, you knew for a fact that no one would hear you scream if you pissed him off.

Taking a short, hasty, deep breath, you turned to face the expanse of your quarters to address Lord Vader. His breathing was now even louder than normal, since it was so easy to echo off the cramped walls of your quarters. He was standing in the middle of your room, and he nearly took up the entire space. The tips on either side of his cape nearly touched both sides of the small room, and the top of his helmet was only inches away from the ceiling, even with him looking down to meet the gaze emanating from your eyes. Crossing your arms, you stood before the sith lord inquisitively. You couldn’t help but to think that he can’t be comfortable here, since he barely fit.

This only fueled your belief that whatever he wished to talk to you about must be important.

“What do you wish to talk about, my Lord?” You asked as you looked up at the sith in question. You hoped that you didn’t sound as nervous as you were. This was the first time that you had been alone in a bedroom with anyone, let alone a man, in an extremely long time. Hell, let alone a man that you…

No. Not now (F/N).

“(F/N),” he said, not moving a single muscle as his gaze bore down into you, “I am afraid that I will be leaving for a period of time.”

A weird pang ran through your veins as you process what he had said. Leaving? So suddenly? This must be important. You were used to him going away some place every now and again, but he would often be back within 24 to 36 hours. This made it seem like he wouldn’t be back for a while.

You felt… sad. But yet…

Why did he bother telling you?

“Leaving, my Lord?” You retorted back at him. You decided that you needed further details in order to make a proper judgment on how to feel.

“Yes,” he said, “I will be traveling to a nearby system to meet with it's royal family. They have expressed interest in joining the Empire, and I have been sent by my master to handle the situation.”

You licked your lips as you felt a wash of cold flow over you. His master. That could only be one person.

The Emperor.

You felt a sour taste on your tongue. You tried to wash it down with a swallow before speaking again.

“What does this trip entail, my Lord?”

“I will be spending three days on the planet mingling with the royalty in order to coax them into pledging themselves to the Empire. The planet is home to many valuable mining resources that would prove useful.”

The way he spoke so matter-of-factly uneased you. From the time that you had spent talking with Lord Vader, you had started to pick up on his habits of speech in some regards. For example, when he was frustrated, he would often raise his voice ever so slightly and insult the receiver in some fashion. When he was pleased, his sentences were short and to the point. However, the way he was speaking now, you had no way of picking up his intentions on. It was like trying to find artistry in a brick wall.

After a brief pause you had made to contemplate his intentions, you had settled on a safe, vanilla answer.

He’s telling me this so that I don’t wonder where he is the next few days.

But still…

Why tell me this in my damn room?

You decided to leave that question as forever unanswered as you let your response fall out from behind you lips.

“I… I understand, my Lord. I will be able to continue on with my work with no problems in your absence.”

Sure, you would be able to, but would you enjoy doing so?

Definitely not. You had grown very fond of your talks with Lord Vader.

Expecting some sort of a response, you held another championship staring match with the sith as his breathing echoed off of the walls. The air was laced with a plethora of feelings. Content, mystery, and awkwardness to name a few. You wondered how long this was going to last before he said anything.

You almost closed your eyes in relief when he did.

“I… I am required to bring one representative of the Empire along with me.”

Huh?

What the hell?

What in the hell was he going on about? Okay, cool, he had to bring someone along with him. But why would you care? He’s probably gonna bring some senator along with him, like that one from Lothal or maybe the one from Alderaan. Was he just trying to share?

Unable to fully hide your confusion, you raised one of your eyebrows slightly as you placed one of your hands on your hips and let the other fall to your side.

“Yeah…?” was the only thing that you could think to say at this. You tried in vain over and over in your mind to peace together why you needed to know this information.

“(F/N)...” he rumbled out, “I do not think you fully understand what I am asking of you.”

Your brow furrowed before he continued, “I am asking if you would accompany me on this trip.”

What?

You had thought you had gone crazy as you felt a blush flinging itself upon your cheeks. Why the hell would he want you to go with him? You were just a mechanic. Just a mechanic from Endor. Why were you so important? How the hell could you represent the entire Empire by his side?

Frowning to yourself and looking down for a moment, you decided that you couldn’t.

He had made a mistake. You were not the right fit for this job.

“Lord Vader, I…” You began to say. Continuing on, you wrapped your hands around your biceps and rubbed them up and down sheepishly, your blush still peppering your face. “My Lord, I’m flattered by your offer but… but I think that you are better off taking someone else for your trip. I’m just a mechanic, my Lord. There’s no way I could do a proper job of representing the Empire.”

“The things you would have to do are quite simple, (F/N). All that you will be required to do is converse briefly with the royals, consume a meal with them, and attend a gala or two. All of this will be done alongside myself, so you will not be alone in partaking in these actions.” he responded to your denial, almost too quickly. If you had been fully paying attention, you would have figured that he was trying to convince you to go.

“I know, my Lord, it’s just…” you frowned again, dropping your gaze to the floor and gripping your biceps tighter. Why did you feel like crying? “I think that you asked the wrong person.”

This was met with another pause from him. Rethinking your sentences, you thought that maybe your choice of words hadn’t been all that smart. They had made you seem as if you were questioning the dark lord, questioning whether or not he really did know best.

If you were anyone else, you knew that you would be dead on the floor right now. Luckily, you were you, so you were somehow by the grace of your maker not met with this fate.

Although, with how you were feeling now, with no explicable reason for you to be feeling such a way, the thought of that fate didn’t exactly sound too bad.

Before you could slip deeper into your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety, you felt a familiar feeling of cool leather on your right shoulder. From the sheer weight and firmness of the feeling, you knew instantly that it was Lord Vader’s hand.

You felt the ghost of a thought of him pulling you towards him in an embrace dance across the back of your mind.

“(F/N)...” You heard him say. Despite his beckoning, you refused to look up at him, keeping your gaze locked on the sight of your small, sock-covered feet in front of his large boots.

After a long moment of you refusing to look up at him, you felt a foreign touch upon your chin. The touch was firm but gentle, and it wrapped around the curve of your bone so perfectly. The touch became more firm as it gently pulled your head upwards so that you neck craned, forcing your gaze back upon Lord Vader’s mask. In your peripheral vision, you noticed that both of Lord Vader’s arms were curved in such a way so that his hands could rest upon your upper body.

This told you two things.

One: Lord Vader’s left hand was on your right shoulder.

Two: Lord Vader’s right hand was holding your chin in place, making you look up at him.

To say your cheeks were pink was an understatement. They only grew pinker as he stared down at your face, his grasp unwavering from your joint and chin.

“(F/N)...” he repeated, “There is no one I trust more to accompany me.”

Your cheeks were pink before, but now they were quickly turning red.

For the first time ever, your mind was completely blank.

“I… Okay.” was the only thing you were able to force out of your lungs.

~~~

Packing for the visit was remarkably easy to do.

You owned very little, so fitting it all into one medium-sized backpack with the Empire’s logo slapped on the front was no challenge. Much to your disdain, you had to wear your full formal uniform throughout the entirety of the trip. The difference between that uniform and your normal one was the color (the formal being black and the normal being green-grey) and the material. The formal uniform was much more wrinkle-resistant than the everyday one, so you looked a million times more formal and empirical than how you ordinarily did.

You hated it.

Pulling the backpack onto your shoulders and giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you decided that you were ready to head over to Lord Vader’s hangar. It was there that you would board the shuttle that would transport you and Lord Vader to that stupid planet with it's stupid royals. You felt like you could shit your pants right then and right there.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked over your features over and over again. Noticing anything out of line, you would quickly and hastily fix it, making sure that you looked your best in your shitty formal uniform.

In your head, you told yourself that you did it to make sure you didn’t look like total shit. Deep down, however, you knew that you did it to look good for him. You would never admit this.

Satisfied with your poking and prodding of yourself, you adjusted the backpack on your shoulders and headed out the door, not giving your small quarters one last look. Hastily making your way down the hallway, you ignored the stares and whispers that you noticed in your peripheral. You had no time nor interest in confronting them.

The first thing you noticed when the doors opened was the busyness of Lord Vader’s hangar. This was a stark contrast of how you normally saw it. Right now, it was hustling and bustling with officers trying to get everything coordinated and troopers finding their positions.

This must be normal, you presumed, when trying to move one of the most important people in the galaxy around.

He was easy to spot in the crowd since he was so much taller and larger than the others. He was currently conversing with an officer who held a datapad and was likely rambling on about who the pilots where and the exact course that they planned to take. How interesting.

Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you made your way over to him. Without even taking ten steps into your journey, you were stopped by a stormtrooper with a fancy guard around his shoulder. A captain, you presumed.

“Are you Miss (L/N)?” The trooper asked, his voice distorted by the microphone in his helmet.

“I, umm, yeah, that’s me.” You responded, a bit taken aback by the sudden interaction.

“Great. I can take your bag for you then, Miss (L/N). Lord Vader also wishes to talk to you before you depart.” The trooper continued, holding out his armor-clad hand for you to place your backpack into.

You looked at the trooper’s hand before hesitantly slipping the backpack off your shoulders and placing it within the trooper’s grasp, mumbling out a thank you. You were surprised at how polite that trooper was as he left with your bag. You always respected the stormtroopers, but that sometimes wasn’t a mutual respect.

With your brief interaction done, you made your way over to Lord Vader. As you drew nearer, you noticed how the sea of troopers and officers parted and dissolved away, busying themselves with other means. His hands placed firmly on his belt, Lord Vader looked to you as he addressed you.

“(F/N). I am pleased to see you here on time.”

“I try to impress, my Lord.” You retorted back. You must have felt bold that day, as evidenced by your small quip and the faint smile that accompanied it.

Not a moment after your small interaction was finished, a voice came over the comm system signaling that it was time to board the shuttle, already filled with it's pilots and a handful of troopers. Letting the sith pave the way, you followed as his cape fluttered behind him. Once the two of you were standing soundly in the shuttle, the doors to the craft were closed in a soft whirr, the light difference making your eyes strain. A moment after, you felt the shuttle rumble beneath your feet then smoothly purr to life, signaling that you had taken off and were now exiting the Super Star Destroyer.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute from your excitement. You were so happy to finally be leaving that damn thing behind, even for just a little while.

He must have sensed your emotions stirr inside you when you had felt the shuttle taken off. This was evidenced by him letting his gaze fall to you after a long while of simply staring straight ahead. You pretended not to notice his gaze as you continued to stare straight ahead, watching him in your peripheral.

Your cheeks, of course, dusted pink again.

After simply looking at you for what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“(F/N).” he said flatly, as he always did when he wanted your attention.

The usage of your name prompted you to look up at him, a hint of wonder and curiosity in your eyes.

“Yes, My Lord?”

He looked at you for a moment in silence before returning his gaze to its original position.

“If you wish to simply call me ‘Vader’ when the two of us are alone… I will allow it.”

In that moment, you wished that the rest of the galaxy around the pair of you could somehow easily and quietly slip away for the rest of time.

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia , @dartheldur

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfic

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onelastbreath-writes · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Meet You There (Part 3)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Wife!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Talks about loss of spouse, loss of child, medical conditions/inaccuracies, grief/mourning, manipulation/brainwashing (subtext/implied, but we’ll get into it later *winkwink*)

Tags: Hurt/No comfort (for now), ANGST, eventual happy ending, one really sad man for whom I just keep making things worse, #sorrynotsorry, and now I’m just making stuff up as I go along

Summary(lite): You are Marcus’s wife, and you’re definitely not dead. No one is having a great time right now, but like hell if there's a force on this earth that’ll keep you apart forever. This is not a goodbye, its just a see you later. And the interim is going to be everyone else’s problem, you’ll make sure of it.

A/N: Hello dears, welcome back to my twisted mind story,,, guess who showed up like 2 weeks late with a smoothie! So things about this new chapter: I am a criminal with italics and someone needs to stop me, hello switching scenes and perspectives because I just want to fast forward to the good stuff but y’all don’t live in my head and don’t know all the stuff that happens to get us there so here we are taking the slow lane, and I keep brainstorming new and horrible things for my characters because I am A Lot, All The Time, and will not be stopped. Also hey, Marcus the Simp is here for you, so much. I hope this is acceptable to be a reader fic still, because I am giving you some serious personality traits... ehh, it is what it is. Tell me if you spot any of my various references, there’s a lot of ‘em. Thanks to everyone who has liked/reblogged/commented, y’all are gorgeous and I’m so grateful for the love <3 Drop me a message/ask if you want a secret about one of the characters (specify which one), I need an outlet for my endless b.t.s. plotting >;) Please enjoy p3!

AO3|Masterlist

[Previous Part]

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There were more casseroles in his fridge that Marcus knew what to do with, and more sympathy and “thinking of you” cards stacked in piles around the house than he could count. He appreciated everyone’s gestures, but he could recognize the difference between people who were kind in the interest of helping others, and those who were kind only to help themselves. It was quite obvious which type were flooding his mailbox.

Hell, most of the people sending him cards, his fans, didn’t even know his wife, never spoke to her, didn’t feel the empty Her-shaped-space in their very souls. They just wanted the clout, the prestige, of being ‘involved’ and sympathetic to a grieving superhero. It was exhausting, but no one seemed to empathize with him on that.

The Heroics upper management, and the director specifically after his press conference and the publicity the attack had brought the organization, had insisted on Marcus taking an undetermined amount of leave from the team so he could “process and mourn his loss in the comfort of his own home.” Like he didn’t look around and see every piece of himself and his wife over the years; the Home they built for their family, filled with all the hopes and dreams of two starry eyed lovers ready to take on the world together. Like her absence wasn’t slowly killing him.

And it wasn’t like she was gone gone.

Dead.

She wasn’t dead.

No way in Hell.

Whether it was because she worked with superpowered people, her experience as a medical professional, or if she was just more paranoid than most, his wife was a planner, and she was prepared for this. “In the event of my death...," like she just knew it would be necessary.

Truthfully, she had schemes and contingencies and all manner of reactionary plans prepared for if (and when) the worst happened; terrified to be blindsided or caught unaware, unable to help those she would have been able to, if only if she had the time to think. Unpreparedness costs lives in both of their careers, and she refused to leave anything up to chance if possible. And so, she’d plan, and he’d listen.

All throughout their relationship, from before they’d even gotten serious enough to discuss marriage, to when they heard their unborn child’s heartbeat for the first time, and just on random weekday afternoons when they would take Missy for walks around the neighbourhood to show her the beauty in their lives, his wife would paint her theories and ideas like artwork. She’d tell him a story, full of action and mystery, humour and theatrics, tragic romance and harrowing adventure; she could spin a tale like she had a silver tongue, but she never lost herself in her own narratives. In the end, they were messages, lessons, for him to remember when everything was going wrong.

“It’s all about momentum, babe. Bleeding off energy and taking a bad hit instead of a fatal hit. You can’t just full stop; you’d absorb all the kinetic energy, and the resulting trauma will turn all your squishy internals into, like, body soup, which is just super unpleasant. And of course, head is always number one priority. Bracing for impact works better at giving you fewer serious injuries, especially for your neck and head. Muscles should absorb as much of the energy as possible, instead of letting it fall to your ligaments, discs, and nerves to take the force. So, tense up and roll in the case of a low air evacuation.”

Low air evac... she was concerned he was going to have to jump from an aircraft without a parachute at some point in his life. Which was probably accurate he’d admit, but still, he wasn’t hoping to actually need that plan.

Thankfully, it wasn’t always fire and brimstone with her, and she had many strange and terrible schemes to keep the common, everyday superhero family on their toes. Always carry at least two lip balms... never tell someone you don’t have plans for the evening... don’t smile in your mugshot... no clowns. Ever.

She was so weird, a total nerd, and so completely the girl of his dreams.

He loved teasing her about her unending train of thought, the brain that never sleeps, how she’d go on tangents while on tangents but always circle back around; even nicknamed her (quite cheekily, and because it made them both laugh) Doctor Batman, which was usually saved for when she was being particularly dramatic and gloomy. Turn the supercomputer off for a second, Bats, come see what Missy’s doing!

He was her anchor, always ready to pull her back to earth when she started drifting off too far from them, but he never asked and never wanted her to change. He adored her, silly or serious, or when she woke him up in the middle of the night to make him promise that he’d never get their kid(s) a pet owl (because they’re “scary”, and “our kids would be too powerful, Marcus. Promise me!”), or that in the event of them inviting a third to their bed, it would “absolutely never, ever, ever be Miracle. No way!”

He thought it was quite entertaining most of the time, listening to her plan for zombies and old gods and what to do if everyone just started hating cheese one day, but if it was all so important to her: having him remember this or agree to that, he’d accede to her requests in a heartbeat. Most of it was cute, harmless stuff he didn’t think would even happen, but sometimes she would hit him with serious stuff. Entirely out of left field, she’d go for his heart, and ask him for things that would hurt him, destroy him inside, if he ever had to follow through with it.

“Marcus, if it’s a choice between my safety- my life, and Missy’s? I’m always going to choose her. Kids come first, okay?”

She wasn’t superpowered, didn’t have a shred of anything other than pure, normal human in her, but she was easily the strongest person he knew. Fearless and brave, kinder than this world deserved, she’d do anything for the people she cared about. And she’d promised him, maybe as a way to repay him for all the things he’d agreed to over the years, that she’d move heavens and the earth to return to their family. That nothing in this world, or beyond, could keep her away. “Eventually,” she’d stared into his eyes, glossy with tears from how forcefully she believed, “I will find my way back to you. I swear it, so keep a weather eye on the horizon.” See? A whole-ass nerd, and he couldn’t have loved her more.

So, she wasn’t dead. Pure and simple. She was somewhere, somehow, and he was going to find her again.

---

“Marcus, the grieving process is different for everyone, but it is always unpredictable and painful. You will have days where you will feel like you haven’t made any progress, or even lost the progress you’ve previously made, but please know that this is natural; it's something everyone experiences, and that it doesn’t mean you’ve failed in your objective. Healing takes time, and a major part of recovery is learning to forgive yourself when you slip up. No one expects you to be back to normal tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Healing from grief is not a race, so we will go at your own pace, and we will work together to accomplish your recovery goals. You aren’t alone in this journey, and you don’t need to handle everything by yourself.”

The grief specialist he was seeing was someone he would describe as an “old soul”. She exuded the patience and peace of someone who had watched empires rise and fall, seen the turning of the wheel of time and drifted along with the current. Her voice was deep, rich in emotion and empathy for those who needed guidance, calming and intriguing with a soft lilt on her vowels. Timeless and ancient all in one, and even if he wasn’t actually mourning the death of his wife, he did find himself deeply grieving being without her. They were two halves of a whole, and though his soul was at a loss without its partner here, he still had their greatest creation, their pride and joy, their baby girl to raise.

He would do whatever he had to do to be the best parent he could for Missy. And so, if meeting with a physiatrist every week was something that would help, then he would be here, every week. He'd learn to live with his grief, his sadness and loneliness, with just the memory of his Everything, and he’d help their kid with all hers too.

It’s what he promised to do, after all.

“If anything ever happens to me, you’ll just have to love her enough for the both of us.”

---

There was nothing they could recover of the people closest to centre of the explosion. No remains, no blood, nothing. Like they hadn’t been there at all.

Suspicious.

Upper Management had brought in a team of private investigators to handle the case, people who would keep the details quiet and the public appeased with what little information they’d choose to release.

Marcus was a superhero, and sure, his job was to hit things until they weren’t a problem anymore, but he couldn’t understand why all the highly trained professionals didn’t question the sheer amount of evidence that just wasn’t adding up.

He tried to bring up the inconsistencies once with the lead investigator, but they had just given the distraught, widowed husband, so lost in his own denial and grasping at straws, a sad smile and told him they would do everything they could to find the truth for him and the rest of the victims’ families.

Typical.

After being brushed off without a second thought, he decided to keep his ideas quiet, and since they’d proven their unwillingness to listen, he’d just have to solve the mass disappearance himself.

“Have you ever thought about how to commit the perfect murder, mi amor? I have. First: If there’s no body, they can’t prove the person is dead. No evidence of death? No murder. Simple. But of course, completely vanishing a full human would be a challenge. Short of having the superpowers necessary to, like, erase someone from reality in their entirety, there would be a lot of chances to leave evidence. Ordering suspicious chemicals leaves a trail, driving out to a pig farm in the middle of the night is shady as hell and all neighbors are professional narcs, and fires? Hah! Do you have any idea how hot the fire needs to be to cremate human remains, and how long they would need to grill for? Huh, maybe the perfect murder isn’t a murder at all...

Hey babe...

Always doubt a body, but always doubt no body, more.”

---

You tended to lose time when there was no one else in your room. It was hard to tell when your eyes were open because you started dreaming about the only things you could see since you first woke up: drop-ceiling tiles, white walls, and pale blue curtain dividers. And it was easier that way, in the end. Your heart didn’t hurt when you only dreamt of the room. You couldn’t mourn the things and people only your soul could remember if you thought of the room. Drifting in and out of consciousness was how you were coping.

---

You had been here, left in this room alone, for ages. You had agreed to help the man who had saved you from the explosion that killed your family, but apparently you couldn’t help him until you had recovered enough. You’d read your charts, grilled your nurses and doctors more and more the longer you were kept here. What were they all waiting for? There was nothing wrong with you except the mild post traumatic amnesia, and the whole not-remembering-much-(or anything, really)-about-your-personal-life-and-family-of-the-recent-few-years thing you had going on. It was nothing compared to when you first awoke and could remember nothing. It killed you to be without the memories of your husband and child, to know only of them instead of actually knowing them, but there was nothing you or the doctors here could do. The brain was a tricky thing, and you had to accept that your memory loss might be permanent.

That just meant that you had to put all that you could remember to good use. You could help people here, and work towards getting justice for your family. Years and years of school, practical experience and training, you had gained it all back; re-read textbooks and studies, wrote papers on your re-emerging knowledge and jogged your memory about long nights and early mornings, surgeries and follow ups... it was all still in your head. It had returned to you easily, like diving into a cool pool on a hot summer day. It was like coming home and taking off your shoes; it felt good, freeing, as-it-should-be.

But still they weren’t letting you leave. So: what were they waiting for?

“Ah, Doctor, it’s lovely to see you, as always. How are we feeling today?” Okay, so the guy who “saved” you (read: paid the people who actually saved your life) gave you the heebie-jeebies. He looked like a classic pompous asshole bigwig, like, oil tycoon or something. And he definitely had some sort of thing for you. Gross.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected, trapped in a room with nothing to do, you know, brain rotting, et cetera. Thanks for asking.” The sass was a choice, probably not a great choice, but your choice none-the-less. You really hadn’t had many opportunities to choose anything for yourself in a while.

Well...

You were bored, and that was going to be everyone else’s problem.

“Ah, well, good news then! You have been cleared from observation and you’ll be able to be discharged soon. Isn’t that just delightful!” Mister Craig (“Please, just Greg is fine”), was some sort of horrible group hallucination, you were convinced. No one was that cheery, that animated, unless they were on something, or you were on something. “I’ll have someone bring you your personal effects shortly, and then I can show you to your new apartment. The complex isn’t in the best neighbourhood unfortunately, but it's got some real charm, very vintage! You’ll love it!”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it then; sounds like it’ll be a real interesting place to stay. You can also explain what it is I’m going to be doing with your organization. Because you haven’t specified yet. And I expect a proper contract and wage agreement. Legally binding preferably, for your sake, of course, Mr. Craig.” Even if you weren’t the most physically intimidating person around, you knew how, and more so, when, to assert your dominance in a conversation. Especially with men like him. He was the type of guy who would pinch a nurse’s ass and then accuse them of not being able to take a joke.

“You wound me, Doctor, I am a man of integrity! I promised you an opportunity to make a difference! To get justice for the loved ones so cruelly torn from you! You have nothing to worry about!”

Sounds legit. Totally above board. Can’t wait.

---

Taglist (omg!! thanks love): @killtherandomness

Drop me a line if you want to be added <3

#we can be heroes #we can be heroes fanfiction #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #reader x marcus moreno #reader insert #Pedro Pascal #hurt/comfort #eventual happy ending #say hello to doctor batman lol. theres a whole thing i created just for that nickname to happen. ask me about it if you want XD #also you're a sassy BAMF. oops

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secondhand-trash · 5 years ago

Text

Dead Romantics

A/N: The idea came before the plot and I’m just writing this because this is a theme I really want to write about but don’t have the outlet for lol Hopefully starting a series out of this

(au masterlist)

Pairing: modern necromancer!Shinsou HItoshi x reader

Description: The young necromancer spent his entire life being all by himself, and now he had no idea what to do when an enthusiatic classmate went out of thier way to be his friend.

Word count: 2618

Playlist:

Apocalypse//Cigarettes After Sex

Your Heart Is As Dark As Night//Melody Gardot

Cherry Wine//Hozier

Shinsou Hitoshi was the first and only necromancer to enroll in UA since its establishment many, many moons ago.

For an institution that pride itself in offering inclusive education to both human and magical children alike, the board of staff sure panicked when they read the boy’s application form. Shinsou remembered the slight awkwardness on the teacher’s face when they stiffly said that there was no curriculum or support for necromancers because, frankly, there never was one. And honestly, he was used to that look, he had got reactions way worse than a brief seconds of silence. Necromancers pretty much isolated themselves from the rest of society and for a good reason. Even after cohesion between humans and the nocturnal had made such progress in the past decades, many still saw those who interfere with spirits as taboo. His parents’ decision to let him go to a ‘normal’ school instead of receiving private tutoring caused quite the conflict in his family, whose bloodline traced all the way back to the first generation of those who communicated with the dead.

Shinsou grew up hearing kids whispering things behind his back like he wasn’t there but the worst part was always the look in their eyes when they knew that he heard everything. It was the look of fear, one that his parents warned him before letting him into the wide world filled with people. Just because he was warned doesn’t mean it hurt any less. There was a time when he would try so hard to fit into other kids, and spent night after night sobbing under his blanket when they still avoided him like the plague. But after many years, he had accepted the fact that people simply don’t want to befriend necromancers, and he had grown to enjoy being alone.

Which was why Shinsou Hitoshi had no idea, absolutely no idea why you were being so nice to him.

You were pretty much a normal average human who did not dabble in magic of any sorts and even if you sat right in front of him, he never expected to come in contact with you in any ways. In all honesty, he did not expect to come in contact with anyone in his class in any ways. He made the effort to occupy the seat far at the back in the corner, that way he could avoid being surrounded by people when they get into groups during break. It was a way of living he adapted, self-alienating was actually pretty pleasant once you get used to it.

So no, he wasn’t even sure why he’s still listening to you rambling on about some weird encounter you had with a ghost in the empty classroom when the rest of the class had gone to the canteen. As he watched your hands flailing in the air while reenacting the whole scenario, he wondered why he even responded to you the first time you turned around and tried to get him to talk.

“Shinsou? Shinsou!” you waved your hand in front of his face, bringing him back to reality. “Are you even listening?” you leaned forward, “you look even more dead inside than usual. Did you even sleep last night?”

Shinsou ran his hand through his untamed hair and sighed, he would have been napping by now if you weren’t here. “No, stayed up all night for some ritual.”

He tried to search your eyes for any signs of disgust, any signal of fear but he saw nothing. If anything, you always looked intrigued every time he nonchalantly brought up his family business to see if it would finally scare you into leaving him alone. “Ah, necromancy!” you tilted your head, “so it’s true that it could only happen at night?”

He only nodded. No one had ever asked him about that, how was he supposed to say that it was mostly for aesthetic purposes nowadays when you looked so impressed?

“You should definitely show me how it works one day.”

“What?” Shinsou choked out in disbelief. He knew that you had no idea how dangerous his field of practice could be but he definitely underestimated your lack of alert.

“It’s almost Halloween and my friend is an actual necromancer, we should have a séance or something. It’s festive!” you said, your excitement completely contrasting to the baffled expression of your friend.

“We’re not... Never mind,” Shinsou was about to reflectively say that he wasn’t your friend when his words were caught at the back of his throat. Something about your genuine goodness made him feel bad for pushing you away, which was strange because he never asked for any of this. He wasn’t going to lie, having an accepting person around for a change did feel nice. “Having a séance without a purpose is dangerous and necromancy is pretty much a ‘no outsider’ type business so there’s no way I’m letting you in on that.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and pouted. Shinsou rolled his eyes and you chuckled. Somehow, he wasn’t as annoyed as he tried to be and it confuses him to no end. He was trying to get you to stop bothering him, why was he still here entertaining you when he could be off doing something else?

Shinsou took a breath and tried to sound as stern as he possibly could, “If you’re not a client or another necromancer and I let you see anything, I’ll either have to kill you or marry you.”

You only shrugged, “Sounds good either way.”

He snorted. And as convincing as he tried to be, he could not even convince himself to ignore that fluster in his stomach.

“Just because you’re a necromancer, doesn’t mean you have a free pass to dig up graves.”

“Actually, it does, it’s in the law. (It actually is.)” He silently cursed himself for being foolish enough to fall for your whines and let you tag alone. To be fair, when you heard that he had ‘somewhere to go afterschool’, you really wasn’t expecting to end up in the middle of a graveyard but a normal person would have left at this point and you were still poking your head around him curiously as he looked around. “Why are you still here? For the last time-”

“Stop trying to convince me that we’re not friends,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest and smirked as you knew exactly what he was about to say, “I’ve been to your house and your parents recognizes me, your cat purrs when it sees me, I still have that book you lent me on my shelf, I actually managed to make you laugh once and I’m literally here to dig a grave with you, we are friends.”

Shinsou groaned and you knew that you had won. He would try to argue that you went to his house because he took a sick leave that day and the teacher asked you to since you were the only person he actually talked to in the whole class. His parents still remembered you because they were shocked when they answer the door to someone looking for their son who said that he had no interests in making friends with people from school. Till now, they would still ask Shinsou if ‘the nice kid he met at school’ would like to come over for dinner or not and he would always give an indifferent mumble to brush it off. The house cat purrs at anyone and the only reason he lent you that one book was because you kept bugging him about it and he wanted a bit of peace. He was only laughing at you because you tripped yourself on a flat ground. Finally, he did not ask you to come to the graveyard with him.

Now that he thought about it, he had been spending an awful lot of time with you recently.

“Fine.”

You gave him a wide grin, seeing that it was the first time he ever admitted it out loud. He tried to ignore you and turned around to look for the items he was looking for, not picking up on the heat concentrating on the tip of his ears. He wasn’t actually digging up a grave this time, a little bit of dirt from the ground was enough for what he had in mind.

“What are you doing with that?” you asked as he kneel down to scoop up a small pile of soil next to a tombstone and put it in a small velvet bag.

“Trying to contact a spirit of some sorts,” he said, carefully choosing his wording, “there are questions I want to ask.”

You nodded and didn’t pry any further. He let out a relieved sigh, because he had no idea how he was supposed to answer your questions like it was nothing when everything he wanted answers for had to do with you.

The clock strike midnight and Shinsou sucked in a deep breath as he stared at everything that was laid out in front of him. He had done this many times and he knew that he would not fail, but some part of him was still nervous to see if this would actually help the million thoughts swimming in his mind at all.

Dusting the soil in a trail to form a circle, he lighted a candle and placed it inside the circle. Closing his eyes, he could feel the way his blood flow in his veins and the sudden chills that spread from his back all the way to the tip of his fingeres. As the numbness retreat and he felt the air circulating around the room, his slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry shadow.

Focusing his gaze on the silvery shadow, the figure slowly morphed and twisted like a stream of smoke before coming to form the image of a man. The man was dressed in a sharp suit with a silk bow and held a top hat in hand, old-fashioned but extravagant no less. His hair was carefully styled and every little detail on his coat was delicately crafted.

Ah great, a romantic.

“You called upon the spirits to get answers on the future I assume. Is that right, young boy?” the syllables rolled off the man’s tongue in a way that sounded tiresome to Shinsou’s modern ears.

“Well, yes, but I might have make a mistake.” This was stupid, how sad was it that he was looking for advice on his own feelings and he could only turn to people who had been dead for decades.

“Oh, a mistake you say?” the spirit looked amused by the clear distress on the necromancer’s face, “We both know that a ritual of that sort summons only the spirit that could respond to the deepest yearning of your heart. So why did you call me here, prey tell?”

“I need help,” he said though his teeth, “with this friend of mine.”

“Is it a friend or is it a someone more?”

Stupid ghosts and their instincts. “The thing is, I don’t know how I feel about them.”

“Ah!” The dandy yelped in excitement, “the dilemma of love and friendship, the problem every young gentleman must face!”

Shinsou paled at the ghost who was so excited in the face of his struggle. “It’s not a dilemma. I just, I don’t know if I even feel for them that way or I’m just getting attached to the first person who showed me a hint of kindness. Because I was still annoyed by them the last time I remember and all of a sudden I don’t even mind being around them and it doesn’t make sense-”

“Sounds like you fell in love.”

“But if that’s so then I’m just messing things up, wouldn’t it?”

The spirit raised a brow, “How is that so?”

“Well,” Shinsou tried to gather his thoughts, “there’s no way someone like them would want to get too close with someone like me.”

The spirit stayed silent for a while and it was like it could stare a hole into the boy standing in front of him, “But they already did, haven’t they?”

“What?”

“From what you said, it sounded like that person actually want to be close to you. Why are you so convinced that they wouldn’t?”

For a while, Shinsou was lost with words. There were many, many reasons he could think of on top of his head on why people wouldn’t want to be close to him. He didn’t talk much, he looked like he hadn’t sleep in 300 years, he went looking for relationship advice from a dead romantic, many, many of them. But as he went through the many reasoning, none of them seemed like they would have work with you.

“Don’t mind me because I’m just a dead old man from the 19th century but perhaps you spent so long wallowing in self-loathing that you ignore all signs of said person fancying you as much you might hope them to be?”

It was nothing new but Shinsou stayed up all night thinking about what the spirit said to him. At heart, he still found it pretty pathetic that he got lectured by a ghost but what he said makes sense and for the first time since he gave up on trying to fit in, he felt extremely anxious while sitting through his many classes at school, knowing that you would most likely be around him for lunch.

As expected, you turned your chair to the back and sat down facing him once the bell for lunch break rang and people started to clear out of the room. “So, any success with the questions you wanted to ask?”

“Yeah, sort of.” he only uttered a quick response and you knitted your brow together.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, slightly concerned.

“Why weren’t you afraid of me?”

He looked right at you in the eyes and it almost pained you to think of what he had gone through to even feel the need to ask that. You could guess that he didn’t have the easiest time around people from how closed off he was before you annoyed him into letting his guard down but you wasn’t expecting the standard treatment he got to be fear.

You gently said, “Why would I be?”

He chuckled and you weren’t sure why it sounded to gut wrenching to you. “Everybody else is.”

“I like being around you.”

His eyes slightly widened, the leaping in his chest speeding up at your earnest. His brain went hay wired when you tentatively reached for his hand and rubbed soothing circles at the back of his hand. He wasn’t even aware that he wanted the contact so badly until his body acted upon him and held your hand in his.

A rush of warmth washed through you as the boy initiated any affection towards you for the first time. He brought his hold on your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss at the back of your hand, sending a mad blush to your face. You would be lying if you say you never wanted this to happen when you brought up the bravery to talk to the gloomy kid sitting at the back of the room for the first time.

He quietly said in the most genuine tone you had ever heard from him, “Thank you.”

He smiled, and that sight alone made your heart melt.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha imagine #mha imagine #modern magic au

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cherishedkids · 5 years ago

Text

karasuno, fight! - a reimagining

anime: haikyu!! warning/s: manga spoilers after s3! words: 3,013 pairing/s: slight Kageyama x Hinata, but nothing else summary: After losing to Inarizaki High in the Spring Interhigh, a second-year Kageyama Tobio starts to think. He usually doesn’t, so this is worrisome.

A/N: i just wanted to vent out some of my frustration in this fic! I did my best trying to imagine what would happen during their second year hehe.

—

Kageyama looks at the scores. He feels dread in his stomach. Only one point left for Inarizaki High, and they would be taking the fifth set. If he was somehow able to use Hinata or Tanaka to spike a ball without alerting any of the blockers, he thinks he might be able to bring the game to a duece. It’s a long stretch, as the other team has the momentum now, but it would not hurt to try.

He catches his breath as he wipes sweat from his brow. He doesn’t feel the usual adrenaline coursing through his body--instead it was replaced by thoughts of losing here. He glances at the third-years, Nishinoya, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita. He sees the pained look on their faces when the realization that they might lose here, sets in.

But he pushes those thoughts away. They were here to win.

It was just their bad luck that Miya Atsumu was going to be serving. But Kageyama needs to focus and trust in Nishinoya. Immediately, all the shouting ceases with the raise of his fist. Kageyama watches as he throws the ball high up in the air and runs towards it, before jumping up and stretches before it. With a loud slam, the ball that Miya Atsumu serves ends up in their court.

It takes him a second to realize that Nishinoya got the ball up, and Kageyama rushes to get the second touch. He sets to Tanaka, the only one he can trust right now, and he knows Hinata would rag on him later. But that didn’t matter at the moment.

Tanaka spikes with all his might, but the blockers are able to touch his powerful ball. Atsumu Miya tosses to his brother, Osamu Miya, and Kageyama knows that the God-like quick that they copied off of him and Hinata will follow. Thankfully, Nishinoya anticipates this and stands at the correct place. The ball goes up high, and Kageyama thinks about who to give the ball to.

The first-year is a bit too timid for his liking and reminds him too much of a younger Hinata. Tanaka is still reeling from his powerful spike, and if his spike gets stopped again, Kageyama knows his performance would be full of doubt again. Tsukushima is full of bad habits he despised. The choice is clear in his mind. He tosses it to Hinata.

Hinata jumps with all his might, probably the highest so far that he has seen. His eyes focused on the dawn of the other side of the court unfolding before his eyes. But the blockers have already read that he was going to give it to Hinata again. For the first time, he sees Hinata use his brain, and rebounds the ball back, betting it all on the blockers not to slam it back down.

It seems like Nishinoya is having a busy day, as he gets the ball back up, and Kageyama thinks about giving it to the first-year. But he thinks it’s not necessary, that maybe he could end the game right here and then. He could feel the tension, the waiting gaze of Inarizaki High, to see who’d spike it next. He uses this and fakes a toss, lightly tapping the ball. The ball tiptoes on the net, and he thinks he finally one-upped them.

But the nasty Osamu Miya manages to chase the ball with a pancake. He’s barely able to give it back to Atsumu Miya, but when he does, Kageyama feels frustration build up inside him. Atsumu Miya is able to give a set with his underhand to one of the spikers, and Tsukishima is there to block it. But their libero saves it and Kageyama swears he can see Atsumu Miya grinning at him. As if mocking their team, he tosses it to his brother again, and he does a normal spike, catching Nishinoya off-guard. Kinoshita receives it with difficulty, and Kageyama finally uses the first-year.

This was the longest volley in the set, and after four sets of this, the fatigue has finally worn his teammates down. It’s their last competition, and if they don’t win this, their shot of going back to nationals is gone. For the third-years, he knows the impact this loss would give them, and Kageyama won’t let that happen. He refuses to.

The ball lands on the hands of the libero again. The first year spiked in a straight line, so it was received easily. Atsumu Miya sets, and all his teammates rush out in a spiking position. Tsukishima and him ready for the other members, while Hinata commits to Osamu Miya.

Tsukishima manages a touch on the ball, and as he turns to look at Nishinoya, he can see that the third-year is at his limit. He needs to end the volley right now, or else Nishinoya would break himself. The only one he really trusted, no matter what, was the pipsqueak running backwards for a start-up. If they won this point, he needed Tanaka at his best condition, so he had to rest this out. He knows it will annoy him, but it was necessary.

Again, he sets to Hinata, hoping against all hope that he’ll be able to parse through the blockers and spike the ball into a tricky spot, that even their libero won’t be able to save. Hinata’s performance has been good, and Kageyama knows that the whistle from the umpire would be coming soon.

The blocker in front of Hinata jumps a second after him and slams the ball down.

Kageyama’s body moves before his body is able to think. He twists his torso in a desperate attempt to save the ball. Nishinoya, who is usually adept at reading blocks, reacts slowly, due to him frequently throwing his body toward the ground. He slides his sweaty body across the floor, the same as Kageyama. At this point, neither of them care if they bump into each other. Saving the ball was their top priority. He feels his arm burning as he reaches out for it, body screaming at the pain they were feeling. It was only temporary, but the loss was permanent. He had to get this ball back.

But the sound of the synthetic leather ball reverberates in the arena as it bounces on the wooden polished floor. Once, then twice, then thrice, until it rolls away, out of reach.

The cold realization strikes him as he locks eyes with Nishinoya. The older boy’s face is unreadable, but it was not his usual happy demeanor. The sweat on Kageyama’s skin evaporates as he starts to feel warm from frustration and regret.

He gets up from his spot and lends a hand to his senior. Nishinoya was emotionless as he accepted the help and rushed to the bench, where their coach was sitting. It doesn’t take a detective to know that the third-years were disappointed in themselves, unable to get any wins this year.

“Don’t despair,” Coach Ukai starts, hands folded neatly and eyes closed. “You fought well on the court.”

After shaking hands with Inarizaki High, who were celebrating their win, the Karasuno team were handed their silver medal. But it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like this was supposed to happen. It felt like… loss. Because it really was. Nobody aims for second place. It was especially painful to fail after investing so much time into what you loved.

Kageyama drinks from his water jug, but the dryness won’t disappear. He keeps replaying the last point in his head, thinking if he had just tossed to a different member, would they have gotten a deuce? He wonders if he had thought more about the abilities of the others, would they still be playing on court with the third-years?

The bus ride back to Karasuno High is silent. The first-years are quiet, scared that their seniors would get angry or upset. Kageyama disagrees. The silence is filled with regret, worry, and pain. It reminds the third-years of what transpired earlier, and if the first-years realized how agonizing it was for the others, they would make noise to fill the void. The silence makes everyone more perceptive, and he knows that everyone is also thinking about what they could have done differently.

As the bus pulls up to the school, he sees a banner hanging, saying ‘Congratulations! You did well, Karasuno Volleyball Team!’. It means well, but it leaves a stinging feeling in his pride. It was like saying ‘congratulations, but there was just someone better than you!’. Kageyama does his best to not look at the third-years. Their faces would just make him more frustrated.

They get off the bus and head to the gym. The third-years were betting it all on going to nationals, and now that they just lost the ticket to it, even their steps sounded hollow. Ennoshita opens the door and they all wait for him to speak. This would be his last speech as their captain, and everyone knew it was Yamaguchi who was next in line. The first-years and second-years sit on the floor as the third-years sit in front of them.

“Like coach Ukai said earlier, we fought well,” There’s a slight tremor in his voice, like any moment, he might break down. But he had to stay strong in front of his team, to show them that their captain believes in them, no matter what. “I know…”

He trails off, and chokes back a sob. “I know we lost to Inarizaki High earlier. I know the pain must be unbearable right now. And I know just how angry you are at yourselves, but believe me, being angry does nothing,”

Tanaka is the first to cry at their loss. He has always been the first one to express his emotions, but it was usually to lighten up the mood. But right now, it was anything but.

“I’m sure you all know that we aimed for nationals, but even if we aren’t able to progress, I want you all to cherish the memories we had on court. All the trainings, the painful drills we had to endure, the sweat and tears you shed, never forget them. There’s nothing better than spending time with your teammates,” He continues, at this point, all the third-years are bawling. “Take the hurt and frustration you feel right now, and use it to fuel your dreams and ambitions. Never lose sight of that.”

Ennoshita gives a low bow, and the third-years follow. “Thank you for accepting us, Karasuno!”

The second-years and the first-years bow as well, unable to accept that they really are leaving after this. “Thank you for guiding us, third-years!”

Tanaka stands up and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Can you promise us something before we go?”

He stares at his underclassmen, eyes full of hope and determination. They all nod at his request, and he takes a moment before speaking. “Promise us that you’ll do better and reach higher heights than your seniors! I’ll be watching you all next year in Tokyo!”

The sheer belief and the power he had in his words were able to bring the atmosphere back in the usual one. “We will!”

At this, Tanaka sighs in relief. But then his eyes widen. “We forgot!”

Ennoshita also looks the same and nods his head. “Karasuno’s new captain--Yamaguchi Tadashi, please come here,”

Kageyama watches as Yamaguchi, once a timid and nervous boy, dons a look of pride on his face. He makes his way to the front and all eyes are on him. “Give a few words to your teammates as the captain,”

“Ah, right,” He turns to face the team and bows. Then he stands up, a fierce look on his face. “I’d like to take this team with me to nationals!”

The team goes wild and everyone shouts in agreement. Kageyama smiles at this, and Hinata makes fun of him for his weird smile. But he lets this one go.

At this point, coach Ukai and manager Hitoka appear from outside the gym. They smile as they see the team look unaffected by the loss. He walks up to the team and clears his throat.

“Japanese beef is on me!” The Karasuno Volleyball boys later receive a complaint from the houses near the school after they scream their heads off at their coach’s announcement.

The cooking meat fills Kageyama’s nose, and he can feel the grumble of his stomach. He is hungry after the gruelling match earlier, and he can’t wait to devour the food in front of him.

“I’m thinking of going to Italy after graduation,” Nishinoya blurts out.

Tanaka makes a look that shows disinterest. “C’mon man, so many leagues want you as their libero, enough with the Italy talk,”

Nishinoya scrunches his face. “You’re all perfectly okay with Shoyo going to Rio after he graduates, though?”

“Hey! Don’t drag me into this!” Hinata shouts from his seat, and Kageyama shoots him a look of disgust as he speaks with his mouth full of beef. Hinata glares back at him and opens his mouth more. Kageyama moves to murder Hinata, but Tanaka replies.

“He’s going there to train!”

“I’m going to Italy to catch marlins! Tomato, to-mato!”

“It’s tomato, you idiot! We aren’t in Britain!”

Ever since Nishinoya brought up going to Italy, Tanaka would do his best to persuade him to join a league. But it didn’t seem like the shorter boy didn’t want to. Kageyama wondered what was up with marlins that Nishinoya was so obsessed about.

The rest of the team laughs at Tanaka and Nishinoya. Their dynamic was a vital part of the team, and Kageyama could not imagine a team without them. The past two years he has relied on Tanaka and Nishinoya, and sure, while they have been cultivating the rest of the first-years, he still knows that he’ll miss his seniors. It was the same when Sawamura, Sugawara, and Azumane left. Bittersweet memories came back to him. It was the same as this, eating for the last time as a team in Tokyo.

He walks back home with Hinata. They always take the same road everytime, and usually, they race to the top of the hill. But right now, neither of them have the energy to do that. Instead, they walk in the silence, but it does nothing to soothe the thoughts Kageyama begins to have again.

The loss of the third-years signalled something. They had to be responsible as their seniors now. It meant that they would also soon face the last year of their volleyball career in high school. The future was uncertain, but Kageyama knew that he was going to join a league immediately after.

“It was a nice game out there,” Hinata first speaks. His voice has a sentimental feel to it. “We still came up in second place,”

“I know.” He replies briskly. Kageyama knows this himself. He should be proud of having played on that court, where hundreds of people watched him. But he can’t help but to feel disappointed in himself. “It would have been better if we were the ones who get to go to nationals,”

Hinata looks up at Kageyama. He has the same expression on his face when they lost at nationals months prior. He has heard the countless doubts Kageyama has voiced out. “We’ll get there next competition,”

“How can you be so sure?” The dark-haired man stuffs his hands in his pocket. “The third-years aren’t here anymore. We’ll be the ones carrying the team--what if we don’t live up to them?”

“You’re supposed to be a genius, huh…”

Kageyama turns to him, eyes dark. “What did you say?”

“I’m kidding!” Hinata nervously laughs. “It’s just--when will you get it through your thick skull that you don’t need to worry about that?”

Kageyama glares at him, and for a moment, Hinata wonders if Kageyama is really serious whenever he says he’ll murder him. But he drops the look and looks straight ahead. “What do you mean by that?”

The orange-haired boy blinks, grateful to God that he wouldn’t die by Kageyama’s hands that night. He composes himself and thinks about what to say.

“You won’t ever live up to the third-years, you just can’t compare yourself to them,” When Kageyama hears this, he looks at Hinata again with a menacing look on his face. “W-wait! I’m not done yet!”

Hinata clears his throat before continuing. “You’re Kageyama Tobio, setter of the Karasuno Volleyball team. You’re you, not anyone else. Tanaka, Nishinoya, and the others--they’re different, and so are you. You shouldn’t worry about next year because Yamaguchi and Tsukishima will also be there. Don’t burden yourself too much,”

It was the second time Hinata used his brain today. Kageyama could not be more proud. “Thanks… I guess,”

“Of course! I won’t be able to spike if you mope around like that!” Hinata exclaims. Scratch that, he really wasn’t using his brain. “Race you to the top!”

Hinata was already running and Kageyama cursed at him. He followed after, refusing to lose to the pipsqueak.

He was right, even though Kageyama didn’t want to admit it. He had to stop thinking about himself, as he had the whole team to rely on. Why was he afraid to spread his wings and inherit the mantle of the third-years? There was no difference, just that more people relied on him. In a way, that fueled him more, that people count on him.

The dread in his stomach dissipates. The dawn of a new day falls on him. The faces of his disappointed seniors, he wanted to make sure their eyes would shine again as they played at nationals. The hopeful eyes of his underclassmen, he’d protect them so they’d see Karasuno thrive again.

He wasn’t going to embody Sawamura, Sugawara, nor Azumane. He was going to embody himself. No doubts, eyes wide open, feet on the ground, ready to take on any challenges that show up.

He was not going to let them down, no matter what.

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ilovemygaydad · 5 years ago

Text

Friends in Dark Places [ch 11]

pairing: eventual moxiety, eventual logince, background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit

WARNINGS: mentions of abusive family members, crying, mentions of self harm, mentions of suicidal ideation, homophobia, gross/rude comments, rumors, swearing, losing one’s temper, yelling, bullying, bruises, injury due to bullying, internalized homophobia, possibly something else

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: so i have to repost all of these in a different format! yay fucking me!!!! please consider reblogging these if you’re a fan of this series because it’s all fucked up now

first - previous - next - companions

consider buying me a coffee (please)

Although Virgil had relapsed since he’d been released from the hospital, Patton was still so proud of him. He was making a lot of progress towards recovery, and it was wonderful to Pat that his new friend was feeling better about himself. Virgil was, regardless of his moments of weakness, extremely strong.

Virgil held himself together when Patton had practically screamed at his dad. He’d stayed completely calm when he lifted up the towel from his arms to see a bright crimson stain on the pristine white. The poor kid even calmly explained what had happened to Mrs. Shea when she’d arrived to pick them up from the curb.

It was only when they’d gotten home and into Virgil’s room that he broke down in tears. But that didn’t mean he was weak. Tears weren’t weak. Tears meant that Virgil was healthily coping with his problems. That made Patton even more proud; Virgil’s health was his top priority right now, and any progress on it was fantastic.

“Hey, Vi. Do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to, but it might help,” Patton whispered as he softly hugged Virgil.

“Well,” Virgil croaked, taking a few moments to regain his composure. “Obviously, my dad’s never been around. He was rarely at holidays or special occasions; I can count on one hand the amount of times he celebrated his wedding anniversary. He’s stuck up, and he holds ridiculously high expectations for me. I’ve never been able to meet them. To him, I’m a burden. I’m the epitome of everything he hates: punk-rock attitude, artistic, creative, ‘rebellious,’ and all that fun stuff. I will never please him.”

Patton gave Virgil a little squeeze. “I know this sounds like a bad response, but I still want you to know this: I will always be proud of you. No matter if you fall down. No matter if you mess up. You are the strongest kid I’ve ever met, Virgil. I love you.”

He could feel Virgil shift in his arms so he’d be able to look Patton in the face. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy. To be honest, Virgil looked like a hot mess, but that didn’t matter to either of them.

“I love you too, Pat. You’re my best friend.”

Virgil leaned back into Patton, hugging him tighter.

“You’re my best friend, too.”

---

Somehow, news of Patton’s bad-assery had spread around the school by Tuesday morning.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?” Virgil hissed, pulling his hoodie closer around his body.

“No! Well, I told Logan and… Oh… Roman might have accidentally let it slip to one of his other more popular friends.” Patton scrunched up his face, taking note to scold Roman later. Virgil didn’t need all of this drama centered around him in his life, and obviously this was an extreme breach of privacy.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Virgil groaned and tapped Pat on the arm, pointing to a locker. Virgil’s locker. A group of kids were surrounding it, looking like they were about to launch themselves at the pair of friends.

“Don’t worry; I’ll deal with them,” Patton assured as he confidently walked to the group. “Hey, guys! Would you mind-”

“Oh my god. Patton! Did you actually punch Virgil’s dad?” The kid at the front looked like he was standing in front of a super hero.

“What? No!” Virgil had shrunk back at the sudden explosion of voices, but he still came to Patton’s rescue.

“Why did you protect him, Patton?” a cheerleader asked, playfully flipping her ponytail. “He’s a nobody. Oh, or are you two dating?”

Pat recoiled at the invasive questions.

“Oh! I’ve always wanted a gay friend!” a different cheerleader cut in. Both Virgil and Patton were becoming more uncomfortable by the second. A chorus of voices blanketed them in nonstop stimuli.

“Enough! For fuck’s sake, enough!” Virgil yelled, having reached his limit. Everyone in the hallway froze, staring at the normally quiet loner. He ran a hand through his hair regain some minuscule amount of composure before speaking again.

“To answer your question, no. Patton and I aren’t dating. And even if we were, it would be exactly none of your business. I can’t personally speak for Pat, but as an actual queer guy, your kind--yeah, I’m talking about all of you cishet assholes--are not the type people that anyone from the LGBTQ+ community would want to talk to. Ever. We aren’t trivial objects, and we certainly don’t want to be fetishized by cishets. Now get the fuck away from my locker.” Virgil’s voice was oddly calm and smooth, the only true indication that he was angry being the icy cold tone he spoke in.

Oh, was Patton proud of his best friend.

---

For the rest of the day, Patton was bombarded with questions from his classmates. There were even a few teachers that approached him! The whole situation was absolute chaos; the truth had wildly spun out of control, lost in the rumors. Not to mention the fact that Virgil’s whole coming-out-to-the-whole-school stint was beginning to circulate as well. Virgil had texted Patton multiple times every block to vent about “the sheer amount of fucking times these idiots have asked if I am, in fact, queer and if I have a crush on you.”

During lunch, too, hordes of students would come to their table and ask them invasive questions. Some had even been locating Logan and Roman during class to ask them to spill the details. Which, thank god, they didn’t. Roman had well learned his lesson to not--even by accident--tell other people about what was happening in Virgil’s life.

When the boys got home, they flopped onto Patton’s bed and reflected on what the actual fuck had happened at school.

“Did anyone make fun of you?” Patton asked. Their school wasn’t the most tolerant of LGBTQ+ people, despite its large population of them. In fact, it wasn’t really tolerant in the slightest. That was one of the reason Patton was still closeted himself, as were Roman and Logan. And, even though he was so close to Virgil, he hadn’t gathered the courage to tell his friend.

Virgil paused for just a beat too long before whispering a weak “no…”

“Who was it? I’ll fight them!” Patton had his Dad Voice on.

“Pat, don’t worry about it. I can handle some stupid jocks and their homophobic bullshit.” The lie fell completely flat.

“What did they do?” The tone in Patton’s voice was almost scary. Virgil hesitated for a second before he lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal a large bruise blossoming on his chest and stomach.

All the color drained from Pat’s face. “Who. Did. This?”

“I-I can’t tell you. I can’t let you get hurt, too,” Virgil whispered. Patton’s heart shattered at the notion that his friend, who he’d barely known for two weeks, was willing to sacrifice himself to keep Pat safe. It just made Patton want to protect Virgil even more.

As soon as Virgil left the room, Patton called Logan and Roman to formulate their plan.

---

Somehow, they were able to hide the rainbow clothing and accessories from Virgil for the whole right to school. The night prior, Logan, Roman, and Patton had gathered up all of their gear from last year’s pride and agreed to wear as much of it as possible. Logan had rainbow tape around the stems of his glasses (hidden carefully under a beanie for the time being) and at least four rubber bracelets that had “I’m fucking gay” stamped onto them, Roman wore his glittery rainbow Converse and a “gay doesn’t just mean happy” shirt hidden under his jacket, and Patton had brought along a pride flag to wear as a cape.

As soon as they’d entered the school, the hiding went out the window. Lo’s beanie was pocketed, Roman removed his jacket and wrapped it around his waist, and Pat drew the flag around his shoulders. Then Patton turned to Virgil and held out a rainbow beanie.

“Since you were so brave and came out to everyone yesterday, we decided to join you. Meet the ‘Queer Quad!’” Students passing began to stare at the blatant queerness, but for once, Virgil didn’t care.

“Fuck yeah!” Virgil took the beanie and slipped it on before addressing the bystanders. “You know, it’s not very polite to stare. Now scram before one of us gays come to make you ‘one of us.’”

“I mean, this can’t be very surprising to you all,” Roman added with a smirk. “Most of us four are theatre geeks, and you know that drama is the club for the gays!”

The crowd immediately rushed away, most likely to begin gossiping about the newly outed group.

A thought came into Virgil’s mind. “Roman, aren’t you worried about what your teammates are going to say? I mean, they’re not even the slightest bit decent, and there is no doubt in my mind that they won’t take this as an opportunity to ream the shit out of you. The other gymnasts are fucking brutal.”

“Prince Darkling, I’ve been hiding myself and my previous boyfriends from the world for too long. And even if they did want to come after me, I’ve got you guys to back me up.”

Patton pulled them all into a group hug. “I’m proud of us. Now, let’s go live our free lives!”

Soon, the rumors had reached the whole school, but it didn’t even bother Virgil this time.

#sanders sides fic #moxiety #logince #m writes things #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

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dragonshost · 6 years ago

Note

Gajeel x Lyon + challenge

Two years after his first, Gajeel found himself participating in the Grand Magic Games once again. The preliminaries had been beyond easy this year, but somehow Fairy Tail’s other team that had been entered had failed it - and had nearly drowned in the process. Luckily, Gajeel had had plenty of experience nearly being drowned by Juvia over the years - not to mention that aquatic demon from Tartaros - so passing had been a simple matter for him.

He was greatly looking forward to showing off this time around. Natsu’s stunt during their double battle still stung the iron dragon slayer’s pride, and he intended to rectify the slight in this go around. So it was little surprise to anyone on the team that he volunteered for the first group event, a game called simply “Glacier.”

Entering the arena to a decent amount of fanfare, Gajeel carefully sized up his fellow competitors for the event. He didn’t recognize half of them, but the ones he did he knew he needed to watch out for. There was the swordswoman from Mermaid Heel - the one with gravity defying magic that had nearly fought Erza on equal terms two years ago. The snow mage from Blue Pegasus, a former Rune Knight like Gajeel. And the ice wizard from Lamia Scale, the one that had pursued Juvia relentlessly.

“Now that all participants are on the field, it’s time to announce the rules of the game!” the pumpkin headed referee stated with glee, bouncing from foot to foot. “In ‘Glacier,’ we have a special treat for you all...” With a wave of his hand, Mato ushered in four glowing magic circles. From within them, sprouted towering columns... of beautiful, gleaming blue ice.

“Your task is to carve these into whatever you choose!” Mato informed them. “Make anything you want! The sky is the limit! Within reason, that is. Please do not abuse the contest creators’ goodwill by making something crass. Aside from that, let your imaginations flow! But keep in mind that the judges each have their own particular taste, and that will affect their decisions accordingly.”

Frowning, the ice wizard contemplated the pillars. “Excuse me, if we will each be carving these, why are there only half as many as there is participants? Will some of us not be allowed to carve?”

“An excellent question! The reason is that, for this game... you will have to cooperate with someone in order to get it accomplished! Drawing straws will determine the matchups, and the points awarded will be split evenly between you. Winning team gains ten points, second place gains six, third place gains two, and last place gains none. Individually, that’s five, three, one, and zero points you may gain for your guild.”

“Interesting,” the Blue Pegasus mage said. “I chose to participate because of the event’s name, but I might be at a disadvantage here. However... if my partner is sufficiently skilled, we can sill potentially gain the top place.”

“Correct!” Mato exclaimed. “Now, without further ado, let’s decide the teams.”

Gajeel stepped forward first, with a triumphant grin on his face. “Let’s see if my partner can even keep up with my first-rate artistry.”

“An excellent attitude!” Mato stated. “Once everyone is finished drawing, find the other participant with the same number, and the ice block that is labeled the same.”

He came away clutching a straw that blinked with a magical 4. Walking over to the block, he was soon joined by the ice wizard from Lamia Scale.

“Hello there. I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken before,” the white-haired man said congenially. “I’m Lyon Vastia, of Lamia Scale, and an Ice-Make mage.”

“Gajeel Redfox, the Iron Dragon Slayer. From Fairy Tail,” Gajeel responded, shaking the other man’s proffered hand. “With your magic, I bet you’re pretty good at things like this.”

Lyon nodded. “Indeed, I am. With your ability to cut the ice easily, this challenge is as good as won.”

Their conversation was cut short by Chapati announcing the partnerships for this challenge. “On Column One, we have quite the cute team-up! Mattan Ginger and Nalshe Mikagura from Twilight Ogre and TItan Nose make quite the beautiful team, wouldn’t you say?”

“Quite so,” agreed Arcadios, the second judge on the panel. Yajima had declined to be a judge this year, claiming his age made the endeavor more difficult with each passing year. So instead, the knight was chosen to fulfill the vacant spot. “Although they do pale in comparison to the princess, in my humble opinion. What do you think, Mr. Roderick?”

Roderick Snodden, renowned art critic and guest judge for the first day, nodded solemnly. “They are indeed easy on the eyes. But can they bring forth beauty through a vastly different medium, such as this? I’m looking forward to seeing what they will bring forth from the ice.”

The women waved enthusiastically at the crowd, all smiles and charm, and the stadium went absolutely wild as Mattan blew them a kiss.

“On Column Two,” continued Chapati, moving along, “we have Kagura Mikazuchi of Mermaid Heel and Dobengal of Sabertooth. I must say that I’m really looking forward to this one. Both of them are renowned fighters, after all, with similarly serious dispositions. I’m sure whatever they carve, it will be amazingly detailed.”

“Their matching aesthetics in terms of their wardrobe is also quite promising to me,” commented Roderick.

“I agree as well,” stated Arcadios.

“On Column Three, we have the male counter to the team up on Column One! With Eve Tearm of Blue Pegasus and Mace Orlando of Phoenix Grave, the male gender is certainly being well represented in the beauty department as well!”

“Indeed,” Arcadios and Roderick said in unison, pleased smiles on their faces, not able to get much in edgewise around the fevered screaming that had erupted from the stands. Both of the male contestants had quite the following.

“And finally, on Column Four, we have... Gajeel Redfox representing Fairy Tail, and Lyon Vastia representing Lamia Scale.”

“Is it just me,” Lyon commented under his breath, “or was our team’s announcement lacking the vigor of the others?”

“I must say that Gajeel doesn’t particularly strike me as the artistic type,” Roderick stated bluntly, disinterest written clearly on his face.

“Perhaps his partner will balance it out somewhat,” interjected Arcadios. “He is, after all, a maker mage. Imagination and craftmanship go hand in hand, there.”

“So long as the brute doesn’t drag him down.”

The dragon slayer spluttered, and shook a fist at the judges box. “No artistic sense?! I’ll show you artistic sense! Get down here and I’ll make real pretty work of your faces!”

“Calm down,” cajoled Lyon, sweat running down his face at the display. “We need to win this for our guilds, so lets not lose sight of that goal. Besides, the best revenge would be to shock and amaze them, wouldn’t you agree?”

Although he grumbled, Gajeel backed down. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Introductions completed, Mato raised his arm, a giant timer appearing above the stadium. “Teams! Begin on my mark...” The mascot dropped his arm. “Go!”

The teams conferred briefly, but it wasn’t long until ice chips began to fly through the air as the carving contest got under way. The judges began to commentate on the progress of the groups.

Meanwhile, Lyon and Gajeel found themselves at an impasse.

“We have to consider the column’s dimensions,” Lyon informed Gajeel, his brows furrowing in his irritation. “So there’s no way we can make the things you suggested. I think we should go with a crane, and to avoid making mistakes, you’ll do the carving, while I direct you.”

“Oh hell no.” Gajeel’s lips twisted into a sneer. “No way am I doing all the hard work while you just stand there, and no way am I making some prissy-ass bird. I say we make a guitar, that would be much more cooler, and shows off my musical soul.”

“A guitar?” Disgust filled Lyon’s face. “We’ll be judged based on difficulty and artistry, you realize. What’s artistic about a guitar?”

Gajeel bristled at the heinous insult the ice make mage had just delivered. “You wanna say that again, pal?”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to,” Lyon retorted. “It’s far too simplistic of a design to win us first place, and not really pleasing to the eye.”

“I take it you have zero experience with rock n’ roll fans,” Gajeel stated bluntly. “You don’t look like you have a musical bone in your body.”

Lyon took deep offense at that. “I’ll have you know that I-”

“Uh oh. Look’s like there’s trouble over on Column Four!” Chapati announced. “Seems like they haven’t even started yet, and are still arguing over what to make!”

So engrossed in their discussion, Lyon and Gajeel both failed to take heed of the the judge’s commentary.

In fact, their argument became so heated that they failed to notice as the timer continued to tick down, down, down...

“Aaaaaand, time’s up!” Mato called out, signalling the end of the challenge with a blow of his whistle. “Everyone stop carving and step away from your creations.”

Gajeel and Lyon looked towards their untouched pillar of ice, cold dread welling up inside their chests and bullets of sweat running down their faces as they faced their grave error.

“Let’s begin the judging phase,” Mato stated, gesturing towards where Column One had previously stood.

“Mattan Ginger’s fire and ice powers were quite the sight to behold during the carving phase, and very unique in terms of technique,” Arcadios observed. “Although I must confess that I’m not very artistically inclined myself, so I have... no idea what this sculpture is intended to be.”

“Fool!” declared Roderick, stars shining in his eyes. “It’s clearly a willow tree! Such a beautiful one, too. With the melted and refrozen ice it lends the sculpture the illusion of waving fronds. I absolutely love it. If it were marble, I’d have purchased it and had it shipped to my home already.”

“You’ll just have to settle for photographs of it, I’m afraid,” Chapati remarked. “I definitely see what you’re talking about though, and I must say that I am also suitably impressed.”

Mattan and Nalshe exchanged a high-five, happy with the results thus far and what they had accomplished in such little time.

They wrote down their evaluations, hiding the final score until the reveal at the end, and then turned to judging the second team.

Kagura and Dobengal stood proud of their work, and Arcadios beamed at their creation. “A sword!” he declared. “What an excellent inspiration.”

Roderick hummed and frowned. “I must say that I’m not particularly impressed with this one. The detail work on the finer points deserves some merit, however, I’m afraid that the subject matter just does not entrance me.”

“I think it looks fantastic.” Chapati nodded to himself. “It’s easily recognizable for what it is, and the detail work is stunning. I say well done.”

Also pleased with how their work had been received, both Kagura and Dobengal bowed to the judges, and then to each other.

Likewise with the second pair, the third seemed immensely pleased with themselves. And unlike the first two teams, they had somehow procured a cloth to cover up their creation for what would hopefully be a dramatic reveal.

“I’m excited to unveil this sculpture!” remarked Chapati. “What could lie beneath the cloth?!”

Mato pulled back the covering, the cloth sliding down to pool at the sculpture’s base.

There stood a gargantuan, eerily lifelike and incredibly detailed bust of Ichiya’s face.

Dead silence filled the stadium.

“I call it, A Reflection Of Perfection,” Eve stated, a hand clutched over his heart. “A tribute to my amazing teacher and guide in life, Sir Ichiya.”

Profuse, incredibly loud sobbing erupted from the Blue Pegasus gallery, as Ichiya broke down with joy over the sculpture, snot and tears dribbling freely down his face.

“I must admit that I’m a fan of the classics,” admitted Mace. “And Ichiya of Blue Pegasus has to have one of the most classic visages I have ever encountered, so it was a pleasure to pay it homage.”

“...Strikingly detailed,” Roderick stated, though his voice was much more subdued than it had been for the previous sculptures. “I can see the stubble, even from the judges box. And the tribute to classicism is much appreciated.”

“It can certainly be said that it rendered us all speechless,” Chapati offered, somewhat weakly. “

Arcadios appeared to be as frozen as the sculpture was.

“...And finally, Column Four,” Chapati said, drawing the topic away from the bust of Ichiya. “Unfortunately, it would appear as if this team was too busy arguing to work on the carving at all. Their ice appears to be completely untouched.”

“A pity,” Arcadios said. “Teamwork was a key component of this challenge, and in lacking that, they have failed to create anything at all.”

Shame burned through Lyon and Gajeel in equal measure, their faces stained with red.

“Hold on,” commanded Roderick, the art critic holding up a hand to prevent the other two from handing down a judgement of failure. “I don’t think you two see it.”

“See... what, precisely?” Chapati threw Roderick a questioning look. “Nothing was done to the ice block.”

The man slammed his fist down on the table. “Precisely!” he shouted, causing the other two judges to draw back slightly in surprise. “Don’t you see? That’s why it is perfection itself!”

“Perhaps you could explain it, then,” suggested Arcadios, sharing a brief, confused glance with Chapati.

“It’s a blank slate,” Roderick told them, his eyes shining with the force of the awe that he felt. “The block of ice stands there, proud and unyielding, like a monolith. A monolith of potential, for every possible thing it could become remains inside it still! Hundreds of sculptures, existing simultaneously! It bursts with imagination, for anything it could become!” Tears began to gather in the man’s eyes, and he gave a heavy sniff. “I have never, in all my career, seen anything quite so beautiful as this. Day in and day out, I gaze upon gorgeous things. Perhaps that has made me a little unappreciative of them all. But now, I see the light. For the first time in years, my eyes are wide open to the beauty of possibility. I thank you, good sirs, for showing me something so wonderful on this day. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!”

When the final scores were handed down, Gajeel and Lyon were not surprised in the least to find that they had taken last place, with zero points. After all, despite how much one judge had liked it, the other two still saw the block of ice as a failure to complete the challenge’s objectives.

But it was worth it, afterword, when Roderick approached Gajeel and Lyon behind the scenes to enthusiastically shake their hands and thank them profusely once again.

Gajeel had changed the man’s opinion of him, which was what he had wanted to do in the first place.

And Lyon? Lyon reflected that this was an opportunity in the making, for self-growth and friendship.

So he invited Gajeel to carve one with him for real, this time. Or maybe several. Everything they had wanted to create, they could attempt after all.

Gajeel accepted, wholeheartedly.

#lyojeel #lyon vastia #gajeel redfox #fairy tail #fanfiction #dragon did a request thing #all names used are actual characters in the FT universe #except for Roderick #this became so long #how did this turn out so lengthy #what have you done to me #it was so much fun to write #sassyhazelowl #dragon roars

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