#that must’ve certainly been hard when he couldn’t catch a break

[diremoone]

the door with the floral wreath | r. sukuna

when sukuna gets a new neighbor on the third floor of his apartment complex, he’s pleasantly surprised to see who it is behind the door with the floral wreath. her two cats on the other hand, are a massive fucking problem.

w — honestly nothing? save for fluff and some cussing, slowburn-ish, implied boxer & sorta rich! Sukuna, implied polyglot(ish)! reader, cat! Satoru and cat! Suguru and both cats being in love, cozy themed again (I can’t help it), the formatting of this “fic” was how it was in my brain so I’m sorry if it’s a lil strange haha, this apparently became longer than I originally anticipated lmao, reader is mentioned to be partially Japanese but no physical appearances are ultimately described, mild angst at the end

a/n: not apart of the ‘make me (yours)’ universe but it’s definitely inspired by it

🌸 When Sukuna wakes up on a Saturday morning and opens his front door to leave for his morning run, the last thing he expects to see is a floral wreath on the door opposite of his. That can only mean one thing: someone has moved in. But if someone has, then why hasn’t he seen or heard the furniture being moved in? These aren’t exactly the cheapest apartments, so did they just not have anything?

It was weird, to say the least.

🌸 However, three months pass before he gets to see who the person who’s behind the door across from his.

🌸 Sukuna gets back from his jog a little early, the light sprinkles of rain turning into a downpour. That’s when he sees you leaving your apartment, locking the door to leave. Unfortunately, you’re not paying too much attention to your surroundings, and you two nearly collide into one another at the top of the stairs.

You narrowly turn in time to place yourself flat against the wall to avoid the behemoth of a man that was your neighbor from running over you and sending you both down the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” came your instant apology.

“It’s fine,” follows his gruff reply.

But he knows he certainly wouldn’t mind running into you again. Just not where you two can fall down the stairs and potentially break your necks.

On a random day not too long after your initial run-in (and near subsequent dangerous tumble down some stairs), you two run into one another to get the mail at the front office.

You pop up behind him right after he opens his mailbox, staring up at him and his very impressive height and build and apparently scare him, because when you speak next, his shoulders jump. “Gosh, you’re tall. You must’ve played basketball or something in high school, yeah?”

He would’ve either been silent or retort something in an asshole tone like he was used to. He just didn’t like people.

He would’ve, if it wasn’t his cute neighbor.

“Volleyball,” he replies quietly. “Quit after graduation.”

You frown. “That sucks. You must’ve been good at it.”

“It was a pastime.”

“Sounds fun though,” you chirp, putting your own key into your mailbox. “I tried to get into sports, but uh, lack of things made it hard to do so. Did track for awhile, until my ribs couldn’t keep up.”

Sukuna lets out a snort but says nothing further. He goes to leave, but not before hearing, “G’bye, neighbor!”

Ah, shit. He hadn’t told you his name, had he?

Hopefully, there would be a next time.

🌸 Sukuna doesn’t see you again for another month or two after that, fate still having you two separated like an awful slowburn romance.

🌸 What he doesn’t like in particular is the fact you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours. He doesn’t like that; doesn’t like that he’s missed his chance to know you a little better. By his logic, he should know your name, have your phone number, and have at least had you on a date and in his bed at least once already.

🌸 Come early December, he hears your door begin to open and close a lot. It becomes annoying, very very annoying, very very quickly.

That goes on almost until Christmas time.

Until one day he manages to catch the little reasons why your door has been slamming shut so much.

Twerp Number One wriggles in his hold as he holds them both up to eye level. She grunts and huffs at him. “Put me down!”

To which he scoffs at. “And why should I do that?”

Just as Twerp Number Two decides to speak, your door opens. This time it’s you.

“You can let them down,” you say, clearly amused. “They’ve come for cookies.”

Sukuna grunts. “So that’s why they’re always slamming the door.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve tried to get them to stop. They are six, though.” As genuine as your apology is, Sukuna can see the little twinkle of mischievousness appear at the end of your sentence in defense of the two twerps.

“Mr. Sukuna is a big grump anyway!” the oddly-orange-haired girl says. “At least that’s what my mama says.”

“Nobara, you shouldn’t be calling people names,” you scold the girl. “Put them down so they can get some cookies and head back, please. I’m sure Nobara’s mom is wondering about them. Nobara, the white box is for you to take home.”

Sukuna begrudgingly obliges. Nobara and her friend barge inside your home. The door stays open thanks to a cold breeze, allowing for the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls to drift outside and into his nose. And damn does it smell nice.

“So, I finally know your name,” you muse.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” he says, half-correcting you, “but everyone just calls me by my first name.”

“I can see why,” you reply in a joking tone and smile. “But yeah… It fits you. I’m [Name], and pretty much the same: everyone calls me by my first name. Since my last name isn’t exactly normal, you know… Since I’m not inherently from Japan.”

Sukuna’s brows raise. “You’ve lived here before?” he asks.

“My mom is [part/full] Japanese,” you admit. And then to his surprise, you ramble on further, “I’ve popped around, uh, a few countries over the last several years of my life, Japan included. I’ve just… never stayed in one place to technically be from somewhere. I was born in the States, but… I don’t, uh, really feel like I actually am from there… Does that make any sense?”

“It does.” But he doesn’t go into his backstory in return. And thankfully, you don’t seem to mind, just about as much as you minded sharing such a part of your life to someone who’s technically nothing more than a stranger to you, not in the slightest.

Nobara pops back out with her friend, who’s just a touch older than her.

“Thank you for the cookies and cimmanom rolls, Miss [Name]!” Nobara says.

You don’t bother to correct her cute mistake. “You’re very welcome, Nobara. Now head home. Goodnight, girls.”

“Goodnight!”

You watch the girls descend, and when they’re out of sight, you listen carefully for the telltale of their first floor door closing. And when it thuds shut loud enough to wake everyone in the apartments in the block, you turn your attention back to the gigantic man that was your next door neighbor… Who’s attention was on your door, more than likely concentrating on the smell in your kitchen.

Your lips curl up and you prevent a giggle. “You want some?”

Your voice snaps him from his stupor. “What? Want what?”

“Some cookies and cimmanom rolls?” you question, cutely reiterating Nobara’s mistake.

“Uh…”

He takes too long to answer, so you decide for him. “I’ll get you some anyway.”

You go back inside, leaving him out in the cold. But you don’t take very long and come back out not even two minutes later with another white box and place it into his hands.

“Well,” you say, teeth chattering from the cold. “It’s nice finally knowing your name, neighbor. Maybe we’ll run into each other again soon… Goodnight.”

He barely gets out a “goodnight” before you close the door. Sukuna tosses his head back and settles for a heavy exhale rather than the audible sigh he knows you would’ve heard through your door.

Another fuck up. But at least he got some food out of it this time.

🌸 You both end up meeting each other a lot more often by “coincidence” after that, like fate has finally determined you’re allowed to see one another or something. (To him that just sounds stupid, until it comes out of your mouth.)

For Christmas, you end up gifting him a tin of popcorn and another box of sweets by leaving them at a front door with a cute handwritten note.

🌸 Gradually, the two of you begin to interact more, and naturally gravitate toward each other’s energy and finally getting to know one another; he’s over at your apartment most of the time, it’s cleaner and smells at lot more nice than his (in his opinion). It’s not that he’s dirty, he’s quite clean actually. It’s just that he prefers your apartment to his.

🌸 You find out that Sukuna is about ten years older than you, and was almost a volleyball player that almost went pro, had it not been for his father’s death. He lost all motivation for the sport, and eventually settled for doing numbers for his father’s company, taking up boxing as a side hobby. To which he was more than good at.

A year ago, he moved into these apartments, getting away from the corporate world had had dived into, opting to do things from home rather than in-person. His prior neighbors never stayed around for too long, not with the amount of noise coming from his apartment in the middle of the night. You’re honestly surprised the person below him hasn’t moved out yet either.

🌸 For Sukuna, he finds out that you almost didn’t get to graduate high school because of how much you’d been moving around. You’d gotten depression from leaving so many friends behind so often that you just made graduation by the skin of your teeth.

Now, you’re online for college, majoring in linguistics, all while working as a translator for a special needs school of Japanese children that are deaf. Through that, he finds out you speak several different languages as well.

God, your personality is just as sweet as the goodies you bake, huh?

🌸 There is one problem, however, when he comes over: your goddamn cats.

🌸 The white Maine Coon is for sure out to get him and make his life miserable, with his attempts at wooing you almost a failed attempt every single time. His name is Satoru, and he’s by far the most obnoxious cat he’s ever fucking met.

Why on Earth you’d give a cat a human name is beyond him. But the again, the fucking cat acts so human it’s disturbing — it almost kind of makes sense.

🌸 Satoru’s claws almost end up in his ass every time he walks through the front door. He can’t even stand openly, but has to stay against a wall or sit on the couch so the cat doesn’t get his claws into his backside. And he can tell that that damn cat has a smug-ass smirk on his face every time. How a cat can smirk, he’s unsure; but he just knows that the look on his face is the one of a smug little shithead that knows he’s gotten away with being a menace. Thankfully, you’re aware of his tendencies and can tell when he’s being more of an asshole than other times and get onto him.

🌸 The black Maine Coon, Suguru, isn’t as terrible, but he opts to creepily stare down at Sukuna from his cat tower rather than be proactive in his distaste. He studies him every second every time he comes over, paying attention to every single detail and movement Sukuna makes with you.

He’ll do things more subtly than his white counterpart, like “accidentally” wave his long, black fluffy tail into his cup of water you gave him. He’s just as much of a menace, although you don’t get onto him as often like the white one, because while you know Satoru is more of an extroverted menace, you just seemingly can’t see that Suguru is just as awful. (Mostly because you don’t actually see it.)

🌸 This goes on for months and months, Satoru scratching the behind of his pants as hard as he can to make it rip and getting white fur all over his clothes, and Suguru glaring down at him from his tower and putting his paws in Sukuna’s food. Although it becomes a little less as often because they’re seemingly growing used to him, as if they’re seeing that he actually makes you happy and finally get the sense that he isn’t just going to break your heart and throw you away.

🌸 And the growing approval of your cats seems to mean a lot to you.

“I picked them up off the streets,” you tell him after he asks about where you got the inseparable pair. “I found them as kittens in a cardboard box three years ago on the streets, drenched and matted in dirt and nasty water.”

You remember the day very clearly. It had just stopped raining, and just as you were about to head home, stopping at the vending machines before heading to your car, you heard animal-like cries of something small and weak. And sure enough, on the other side of the food machine, stuffed away in a tacky, ruined cardboard box, were two, rain-drenched kittens huddled together to keep warm.

That was the day you got two new cats, two new responsibilities. And although times got hard a few times, you’ve never regretted adopting them.

Sukuna gazes up at the two cats on the tower, sitting next to each other in the bed at the top. Their tails are intertwined, heads rubbing at each other’s necks lovingly. He would have never guessed that’s where you found them. From the looks of it, they he would’ve guessed they’d came from a pet store.

“So you’ve raised them since they were kittens,” Sukuna says. “They trust you with their lives. And looks like they love you unconditionally, too.”

“I’d like to think so,” you muse, sipping on your coffee. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it with how ornery they are.”

Sukuna keeps his eyes trained on the two cats in love. He’s slightly jealous, and no he’ll never admit it. He just hopes he can have that one day with you.

He just has to stop Satoru from ripping him a new one every time he comes through the door.

🌸 Your cats eventually grow fond of having him over, fond enough that they’re not being the usual mischievous selves when Sukuna puts his arm around your shoulders and tugs you closer to him when you invite him over for movie nights, not trying to bite his fingers off (Satoru) or sit between you both (Suguru).

🌸 After a year passes and you and Sukuna know each other, he finally gets to take you on a proper date after manning up. Although it’s not a restaurant date, since he knows you hate being looked at while eating. It’s a picnic by the ocean, with the weather nothing short of perfect.

🌸 Your attempts to leave your cats at home for said date, however, are fruitless, the pair determined to come with you and your now-boyfriend who declares himself as such after dessert just to piss off the pair of felines. Sukuna plants a big fat smooch on your lips, turning you into a giggly mess.

🌸 They in return, somehow find a stray kitten and plop it in his lap in return. The kitten isn’t as bad off as when you found Satoru and Suguru, but he’s just as scared. He immediately imprints on your oversized boyfriend, who secretly takes an instant liking to the orange-red (honestly a little pink, too) baby cat and becomes a cat dad.

Date not necessarily ruined. But definitely not what he had planned.

🌸 After a week of having, he fondly named the cat a human name — Yuuji, and the fur baby took just as much liking to it as his owner did him. You do have to teach him the ropes and warn your boyfriend that he’d better be ready to have some of his stuff deep-cleaned if Yuuji doesn’t get to the litter box in time.

Satoru and Suguru take to the kitten like two doting parents. And as much as they still kinda dislike your boyfriend taking you from them, they still help train him to use the litter box. (Long story short, they felt bad after seeing you cry after they’d tore up [and peed] all over your third couch and quit being as ornery as they used to be.)

A few months had passed since Sukuna got Yuuji plopped into his lap, since you two had become a couple. It was always amusing seeing your big boyfriend playing with such a small cat. Honestly, the cat looked like he was part tiger.

You feel overwhelmed with contentment. You have a good job, a wonderful boyfriend (who’s apparently secretly rich) who loves to give you kisses, and two cats who love you. You have enough now, so why was the universe trying to take that from you?

You don’t know how your ex got your number, but what you do know is that you have to tell Sukuna. No later than tomorrow.

You exhale. You can’t think about it. You’ll tell him. You’ll tell him tomorrow that your dyed blonde-haired ex wants to see you again. You’re hopefully of one thing though: that the moment your boyfriend meets your ex, you hope Sukuna has enough restraint to not beat the shit out of him.

“Baby, you okay?”

Sukuna’s brows are raised. One would miss the concern on his face if they didn’t know him as well as you do.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” Woman up, girl, you tell yourself. “I do have something to tell you later. Just… remind me before dinner.”

The concern becomes more evident on his face, which prompts you to walk to him and kiss him.

“It’s nothing serious… I don’t think. Don’t worry,” you reassure him, partially reassuring yourself. “What we should worry about is what’s for dinner,” you joke. “Don’t think I can eat those leftovers.”

“Goddamn, I’m sorry I put too much salt in it.”

You laugh, wanting this happiness to ever be trampled on. You’ll do what you can to protect and keep it.

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri

[chaolie]

FWT Week 2022, Day 1 - College AU

Eyy look at this, something for the fwt week 2022 ran by @fwt-week! You might notice that there are only 3 parts to this, but that's because I do what I want and I want to write 2 fics and some one-shots using these prompts! Oh, and you can also find this chapter on my Ao3!

Characters: Fundy, Dream Words: 1.4k Summary: Fundy tries to pull an all-nighter and Dream tries to get back to his dorm room through the window. One of them got the building wrong.

These sleepless nights would catch up to him at one point, Fundy knew that well. Nonetheless, he continued staring at his laptop’s dull screen, the only light source in his dorm room, typing away on the keyboard every once in a while. If he didn’t get this code to work within 7 hours, his teacher would absolutely cut his head off, so pulling this all-nighter was his only option, wasn’t it? He supposed so.

Why couldn’t it just work, though?! By all means, it should’ve been up and running hours ago, but every time he thought he was finally done, there was something wrong! Was he missing a semicolon somewhere? Did he forget to close a loop? Mistyped a command? Who knew?! That was, apparently, a secret between this stubborn code and God, and he was neither. He was just a student who probably got less than 10 hours of sleep in the past week or two, barely comprehending the lines his own hands typed out…

He was snapped out of his dramatic internal monologue by something hitting his window.

He almost fell out of his chair and scrambled away until its back hit the wall, that must’ve been the first noise other than an “Error” pop-up he’s heard in the past few hours. It didn’t take him long to relatively calm down, though, and he looked at his window. When he saw a silhouette outside of it, his panic returned full-force, and he quickly unplugged and grabbed his desk lamp to use as a weapon. Just in case, of course. He wouldn't really have to use it for self-protection, it was just another one of those unexplainable thoughts his sleep-deprived brain was conjuring up.

He could ignore this, wait it out, and get back to work, he told himself. Then he realized that the person outside was very clearly trying to open the window, and that hope faded. In a feat of confidence he had no idea where he got, he fixed his grip on his lamp and carefully approached the window. Whoever was breaking in, they probably expected him to be asleep, so maybe confronting them would be enough? And if not, he could break that desk lamp over their head.

In a swift motion, he opened the window and pulled his lamp back, ready to use it if necessary- The man outside was certainly startled, just barely managing to stop himself from falling back, but… he didn’t look like a burglar, though. He looked to be about Fundy’s age and he seemed vaguely familiar, so he probably was another student, and the look on his face was that of pure confusion, not… disappointment, or even fear that would come with getting caught red-handed. For a moment, they both stayed frozen.

“...This isn’t my room,” the man spoke finally. Fundy was so taken off guard that he found himself looking back, as if to check if he wasn’t in the wrong room. He was not.

“...Yeah,” he confirmed, looking back at the fellow student hanging helplessly from his window. Another wave of silence followed.

“...What room number is this?” the stranger asked. Luckily, Fundy didn’t have to go outside to check his door in order to answer that.

“326,” he answered. It wasn’t hard to remember, and the first number was just the floor number anyway- “Wait, this is the 3rd floor,” he realized, and suddenly having a guy outside of his window was much more alarming.

“...I think I’m climbing the wrong building,” the stranger said, cautiously looking down as he probably planned out his climb down.

“Why are you climbing buildings?” Fundy shot back before he could stop himself. He probably would’ve added ‘at this hour’ to the question, but he really didn’t want to check his watch anymore.

“Forgot my keys, my roommate is out for the night… I figured I’d just climb in through our window,” the man explained. That plan had… a lot wrong with it, and Fundy wasn’t sure what to point out first.

“The windows lock from the inside,” he began, it seemed like a good start. The stranger paused for a moment before groaning and resting his face on Fundy’s windowsill.

“...Right,” he agreed, still resting on the cool metal. “I’ll figure out a different way inside, then,” he declared, but he sounded unsure.

He was about to climb back down, Fundy realized, and that did not sound like something anyone should be doing, ever, but especially not something a tired person should be doing while it’s pitch black outside.

“Do you want to come inside and take the actual stairs down?” he offered, and the stranger lifted his head.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” he nodded. Fundy opened the window wider for him and set down his ‘weapon’ to assist him with getting back in, but luckily that wasn’t needed. The guy was either very athletic overall, or just really good at climbing buildings, and Fundy couldn’t see all that well with all of his lights still out. “...Did I wake you up?” the man asked once he finally made it inside.

“Oh, no, I was just working on something and didn’t bother with the lights,” Fundy explained. “I’ll get them,” he decided, quickly getting to the other side of the room and flicking the light switch. “I’m Fundy, by the way,” he introduced himself before turning around.

Upon seeing the stranger properly, he froze. He was a tall, handsome blond with a face littered with freckles and lit up by the brightest smile on Earth, wearing a very recognizable, but somewhat worn-out green hoodie. Well… Fundy certainly knew why the man seemed “vaguely familiar” even in the darkness. They shared a few classes, including the coding one. All the classes they shared were coincidentally the ones he was struggling with the most. Even more unrelated, he spent at least 75% of them staring at this very man. Oh. Oh, this was-

“Dream,” the man introduced himself. He then noticed Fundy’s expression, probably. “...Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Fundy answered instantly, shaking his head and trying to talk himself into getting ahold of himself. “I just recognized you! I think we share a couple of classes!” he explained hurriedly, and Dream nodded in acknowledgment.

“...You do look a bit familiar,” he agreed after a moment.

Well, the guy he’s had his eyes on since the beginning of the school year almost breaking into his dorm room at probably 3 am was one thing. That same guy doing all that and recognizing him too was another. So he nodded and ran his hand across his face in an attempt of checking if it was burning up with a blush. Not yet, luckily.

“Oh, what is this?” Dream’s question snapped him back to reality and he found the man looking at his laptop.

“My code for tomorrow,” he answered, and Dream nodded in thought while he briefly looked over the lines currently visible on the screen. “It doesn’t work yet, but… I’ll get it running soon,” he added.

“Do you want any help?” Dream offered with a smile and Fundy’s heart just about stopped. “I’m done with mine already, maybe I could offer some insight? You know, in exchange for you not making me climb back down outside,” he continued, finally looking up at Fundy.

“Sure!” he answered while he turned around, trying to hide his now-absolutely-red face. His eyes landed on the tiny ‘kitchen’ in his room while he looked for an excuse. “...Do you want some coffee? I have an electric kettle,” he offered. “...Instant coffee,” he clarified.

“Sounds good,” Dream agreed, and Fundy immediately walked over to the cupboard, getting out the jar of instant coffee and two mugs. “Can I look through your code now?” he asked.

“Yeah, go ahead!” Fundy answered, trying very hard to focus on making the coffee at… 3:47 am, as he found out by finally looking at his watch.

Well. This certainly seemed just unreal enough to be a very strange dream he was having with his face on his keyboard, endlessly feeling his program with a string of “jhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” somewhere where just a “;” would easily suffice.

He decided against pinching himself just yet, though. Who knew, maybe this possibly-dreamed-up-Dream held the secrets to getting his code to work. If not, maybe this imaginary meeting would give him just enough confidence to speak to the actual Dream in person, at least. Or maybe this was really happening, in which case, pinching himself would make him look like an absolute idiot.

So no pinching it was, even if this was most likely a crazy dream.

(It was not, in fact, a dream.)

[justauthoring]

The Long Wait

Prompt: Eventually, the hoping became too much to bare. Requested by: no one.

A/N: This is basically a remake of this fic -- upon re-watching the GMG arc with my mom, I couldn’t help but look back at this fic and realize how much more I could’ve done with it. Thus, this was born. Pairing: Gray Fullbuster x F!Reader

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Keeping your gaze trained to the ground, you absolutely refuse to look up -- because you know that if you did, your heart would break all over again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, words jumbled together, voice quiet that if the guild hall was so completely silent, they definitely wouldn’t have heard you. But they do, and they falter at the way you sound so absolutely broken. And of course, all of them were, but there was something different about the way you sounded -- it was like you were defeated. 

Macao steps towards her, you hear it rather then see it, and can imagine his hand stretched out towards you, trying to placate you. “Y/N, we understand--” and he halts, voice catching in the back of his throat. “We understand more then anyone how you feel, but--”

“It’s different.” You find yourself cutting in, voice sharp, and you wince at yourself because you sound so incredibly selfish and rude. Who were you to say that your pain was any different from theirs? Any worse? But, still, you continue, your emotions getting the better of you. “It’s just... different. I... I can’t be here knowing they’re... he’s gone.”

“Y/N-nee, we don’t know that they’re gone!”

Your eyes fall shut at the sound of Romeo’s voice.

“We have to keep searching for them,” he argues, defiant, adamantly shaking his head. “They’re somewhere out there, I know that. And Gray wouldn’t--”

“They’re gone,” you hiss, interrupting him and finally glancing up to regard your friends, your family. They rear back at your harsh words, and that guilt festers even deeper inside of your chest, with the way they’re looking at you. Jet and Droy look near tears, and you know they’re thinking of Levy. And Bisca and Alzack look in shock at your outburst, you’re usually so quiet and calm. Macao looks angry, and the rest just stare at you, varying reactions that all mesh together.

Because really, it’s the way Romeo looks at you, still so young, so full hope as your words basically slap him in the face.

But you’re too far gone now, and there’s no stopping you.

“It’s been two years,” you continue, voice softer but still cutting, still hurtful. “They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.”

He’s never coming back.

They don’t respond. No one argues, even if some look like they might. Maybe they’re understanding, maybe they’re finally getting it -- it’s been too long now and no one from the island is coming back. You’d been hopeful at first, you’d been like Romeo -- you’d refused to lose hope. But your heart is broken and there’s no mending it and you can’t keep staring at those doors all day expecting, hoping, praying that he’ll walk through them only for him never to.

So, you turn, nothing but a soft, sorrowful, pathetic apology leaving your lips as you turn your backs on your friends and leave them.

And as you turn, you see his familiar face, the dark black of his hair, that drawling smirk on his lips, and his cold, but always soft when directed at you eyes looking at you, but when you blink, he’s gone.

-

You huff at the weight dropped around your shoulders, inhaling deeply when you see a familiar puff of blonde hair.

“Did you hear?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. It’s pretty obvious.

“Fairy Tail will be competing again this year.”

When you turn to look at Sting, he’s smirking -- all bright eyed and giddy, and you hold back your own snark as you regard him with a small nod. Sting was one of the few to know of the fact that you used to be part of Fairy Tail -- him and Rogue, given that they were the ones who recruited you, and then the master as well.

It wasn’t news you were eager for everyone to know. Fairy Tail was a laughing stock in all respects now, but Sabertooth seemed to have a particular fondness of mocking the way the guild had fallen. And it was easy to hide you’d ever been apart of it given you hadn’t been a particularly well-known mage back when you’d been a member. Your powers were relatively new, and with, regrettably, the help of the Twin Dragon slayers you’d definitely grown in aspects of strength.

Three years since you’d joined Sabertooth -- two years of training on your own, and three of being surrounded by much stronger mages had you adapting and constantly changing. You were practically unrecognizable.

You were known at Y/N of Sabertooth now, and it was like the Y/N of Fairy Tail never even existed at all.

“I’m surprised,” you hum, shifting as Sting moves to take a seat next to you, still whilst having an arm draped over your arm. You blink at the sudden arrival of Rogue, not having heard him, as he takes a seat in front of you, before continuing. “They weren’t in it last year, or the year before if I remember. After finishing last every year before.”

You hadn’t been apart of Sabertooth’s team, but you do remember watching.

It had been... hard, to say the least.

“Ah, well, this year they have a new team.” Rogue explains blandly.

“New members, you should say,” Sting smirks.

Brows furrowed, you shake your head at their words, confusion flooding at you at the particular gleefulness of Sting’s expression. He always got a kick out of embarrassing other teams, not even just Fairy Tail, but there was something different about the way his eyes sparkled.

Sting meets your gaze, and without wavering, adds; “or should I say, old?”

Your breath catches, and even as your mind starts spinning, you’re all too aware of the way both Sting and Rogue are watching you carefully.

You turn from Rogue to Sting, and absolutely hate the gleam in the latter’s eyes as he smirks down at you. Keeping a tight hold on you, he pulls you closer, leaning until he’s a breaths away; “it’s a good thing I managed to convince the Master to let you on the team this year, Y/N,” he grins widely, “you’ll get to reunite with your old pales.”

That... that couldn’t be possible.

They were--They were dead. They are dead.

“I... I need some fresh air.” Shoving Sting’s arm off of you, you ignore his calls and his merciless laughter as you stock out the guild doors, bypassing Minerva which you know will get you in shit later. You don’t really care in that moment, you can’t even think straight, you need air. 

You need to breathe.

Sting must be lying. He has to be lying. There’s... they were dead, it’s been seven years.

Seven years.

How... why now? Why after all this time?

And you convince yourself he isn’t lying. You ignore Sting every time he tries to talk to you, and focus on training. It would be no good if you failed since you were on the roster this year -- Master would kill you if you failed to impress him and keep Sabertooth at the very top. And it’s easy enough to do, spend all your time training, pushing yourself to the brink, until it’s a few days before the games and you realize, Sting wasn’t lying.

You’d been trying to ignore it, ignore the urge, but eventually you give in and find yourself in the city of Magnolia. A place you haven’t been in a long time.

Fairy Tail’s location had changed, but you’d made sure to keep tabs on them. You never showed your face, mainly because you knew that in the end, you’d betrayed your friends. In their eyes, you assumed, you were the enemy, a traitor. You’d left them, left your guild in a time they’d needed you most, and almost instantly regretted it.

But every time you tried to go back, every time you made your way towards those doors, you’d remember the words you’d said -- “They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.” -- and, like a coward, you were never able to face them.

From the moment you’d left, all you’d wanted to do was go back but it was too late for that now. And so you settled for keeping tabs, helping them where you could, always in secret -- you knew how they owed money, and you didn’t have a lot, but you always anonymously send some the guild’s way in hopes of helping. Sabertooth would kill you if they found out, specifically Sting, but it was your way of repaying all the hurt you must’ve caused them.

It’s why you know their new location. And, without even being there for more then five minutes, you see them.

A blue flying cat, followed by a white one, a tuff of pink hair, red hair, blue hair, blonde and most importantly, him. His dark hair, the fact that nothing’s changed and he looks exactly like he had those seven years ago when you’d wished him good luck on the S Class competition, and pressed a shy, chaste kiss to his cheek, the two of you blushing madly as he left, waving you goodbye.

But, they were there. He was there.

-

“And last but certainly not least, is the team that came first in the preliminaries... that’s right, you know them, you love them! Now, get on your feet and scream for the most powerful guild in all Fiore! The one and only, Sabertooth!”

You wince at the cheering, two steps behind everyone else as Sting makes his grand entrance, looking thoroughly most pleased and proud of himself then anyone else. However, even you can see the smirk on Rufus’ and Orga’s face. 

If anything, it’s you and Rogue that don’t look all that excited.

And you, for a specific reason. One that stares you right in the face the second you walk into the arena.

Elfman, Erza, Lucy, Natsu, but more importantly, Gray all look at you the second your team arrives. You can even feel Fairy Tail team B, and the rest of the guild up in the stands watching you and only you. You also notice with disdain that Sting had purposefully made way for you to be seen, even if you hadn’t been that hidden, you would’ve rather remained in the shadows.

That, and you’re not exactly sure what to say as they all stare at you.

“Y/N?!”

It’s Natsu who yells it, but it’s Lucy who steps towards you, baffled and confused; “Y/N, what’re you...”

But you only lower your gaze, eyes falling shut as Sting pulls you into his side, laughing loudly. “What a reunion!” He cheers, pumping his fist in the air, before turning to you. “Isn’t it so great to see all your old guildmates, Y/N?”

You meet their eyes, just as the announcer calls out;

“What’s this? A reunion? Could it be perhaps that Sabertooth’s own Y/N Y/L/N was once a member of Fairy Tail? What a twist on her debut in the Grand Magic Games!”

“This is so not man...”

Turning your head at the sound of Elfman’s voice, your breath catches in the back of your throat.

“Elfman,” Erza says sharply, pulling your eyes back on her and thus the rest of them, noticing with a thick swallow the way her eyes have never left your own. “I’m sure Y/N has her reasons.”

But as she stares at you, waiting for you to say something, you simply turn, walking off.

“I didn’t know you used to be in Fairy Tail,” Rufus drawls to you when you pass him, and your shoulders tighten.

That’s right... now, everyone knew.

“You never needed to know,” you say simply.

“Y/N.”

“It seems Fairy Tail’s Team A Gray Fullbuster approaches Sabertooth’s own Y/N Y/L/N, and the crowd watches in anticipation at the clear tension amongst the two of them--.”

Everything freezes. Shoulders tensing, you slowly turn, meeting Gray’s eyes -- the one you’d been specifically avoiding.

“We won’t lose.”

I know, you want to say. I don’t want you to, you want to tell him. I want Fairy Tail to win, you want to plead. But instead, knowing the eyes that watch you, you simply say; “neither will Sabertooth.”

-

This had to be some cruel joke.

Your punishment, maybe.

Sabertooth’s Y/N Y/L/N versus Fairy Tail’s Team A Gray Fullbuster

That’s what the board said, that what that God awful announcer calls with clear joy in his voice -- your first battle, the second day of the Games, and this way the turn out.

There was no way you’d win. 

Ignoring the fact that you had no doubt Gray was stronger then you -- you simply just couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Not against Fairy Tail and certainly not against Gray.

“Good luck, Y/N,” Sting calls as you move to make your way towards the arena. “Though I doubt you’ll need it.”

You hate his words, hate the way he knows, hate the way he seems to get such joy out of everything that had happened. This was his fault. His fucking fault that you were here, and that this was happening.

Though, of course, even you knew that was true.

“Sabertooth’s Y/N Y/L/N has never been apart of Sabertooth’s team, but we can expect something great from Fiore’s strongest guild, needless to say. Do you know anything about Y/N Y/L/N, Yajima-san?”

“I don’t know much about Y/’N now, but in her Fairy Tail days, she never really made a name for herself, but I do distinctly remember her powers being incredibly unique.”

“Ah! A mystery then. And of course, Fairy Tail’s Gray Fullbuster is a Ice Wizard, but after his performance in day one’s Hidden Competition, the crowd’s not too sure what to expect. Nonetheless, it should be an intense match between old guildmates now turned enemy’s.”

“Shut up,” you hiss to yourself, nails digging into the palm of your hands.

“Ah, I see you’re just as chipper as you used to be.”

Swallowing thickly, you inhale sharply as Gray comes to a stop a few feet before you. It’s closest you’ve been to him since that first day, and more importantly, then in seven years. You’d already known since that day, but he really does look exactly like he had that day. Hasn’t aged a day. You don’t know the story, you don’t know how he’s back, but you know you’ve heard the term ‘seven year blank’ echoing around.

That makes more sense as you stare at him now.

Still eighteen, you’re now older then him then a year younger like you had been before. 

Remaining silent, your head tilts back, where you know Sabertooth is, chest tightening.

“Y/N.”

Turning to Gray at the sound of your name, your lips part when you noticed the way his eyes have softened, even if only a little, like he caught something in the past moment you’d turned away from him. He looks so much more... concerned then he had the first day, and that was only yesterday. When he’d called for you, he’d looked so angry...

Now, he only looked worried.

“What happened?”

Swallowing thickly, you try to appear unbothered. “I left.”

“There’s more to it, I know there is,” Gray shakes his head, “the others told us about the day--”

Eyes clenching shut, a simply jerk of your head has Gray flying back. It causes a roar of gasps, surprise and anticipation in the thought that the fight is finally starting. But you know, unlike them, that it won’t get farther then that -- at least not from your end.

Gray hisses, slowly crawling to his feet, before he smirks at you; “you’ve gotten strong.”

“It’s been seven years.”

“Still,” he shrugs, stopping before you once again. “You have control now.”

You shrug, mimicking him with a smirk, “it’s been seven years.”

However, the facade falls all too quick when he takes a step towards you. Your body tenses, fists clenching as he continues to make his way towards you until he’s directly before you. He eyes you for a moment, quiet, carefully, and you nearly break then and there.

“It may have been seven years, but I know you best,” he whispers, voice low, “I know you’re lying.”

You shake your head, pushing his words away from your thoughts; “attack me.”

And he blinks, surprised; “what?”

“I need you to attack me,” you repeat, keeping your eyes trained downwards, refusing to meet his eyes. “I... I just need you to.”

And part of you expects him to -- you deserve it, you know, after all you’d done.

But, a second later, Gray’s stepping back, pulling your wide eyes on him as he shakes his head; “Fairy Tail doesn’t attack their own friends, Y/N. You know that.” And your breath hitches when his hand moves to raise.

“No!” You yell, before you can help yourself, eyes flashing a bright gold, like they had seconds before, holding Gray’s arm in place as he blinks back at you. Letting out a soft whimper, one you hope he doesn’t hear, you hold his arm in place, eyes falling shut as your own arm raises, the crowd falling eerily silent.

“I give up.”

And you knew, even as you feel the glares on your back, that there really wasn’t any other outcome that could’ve happened. You’d never hurt Gray, you knew, and you refused to hurt Fairy Tail anymore.

You were destined to lose this match.

-

“What’s so special about those fairies, huh?”

Wincing, you gasp at the squeeze on your throat, trying to suck in air that won’t come as your eyes fall on Sting’s own narrowed ones, glaring down at you. The brick of the wall behind you bites into your skin, and you know his grip will leave bruises, but even as you gasp for air and it feels like your vision is closing in on you, you have no regrets.

You never would, even if it’ll get you killed.

“What’s so fucking special about them?”

You refuse to respond, even if Sting wasn’t blocking off your air way you wouldn’t. Even if you could easily knock him away, send him flying, you don’t -- you’ll only pay for it more later.

“What’s so special about him?!”

He drops you then, and you fall to your knees with a thud, a cry leaving your lips as he sends a sharp kick to your gut, causing you to double over. It takes you a moment, a solid minute to catch your breath, and even then you’re still gasping, voice raspy as you raise your chin, eyes narrowing as you say the words you’ve been wanting to say to Sting for years.

“Fairy Tail is the guild Sabertooth could never be,” you hiss, your voice pathetic but your gaze menacing. “And Gray is a better man than you’ll ever be. All of them are. You’ll never be as good as Natsu.” You hit him where you know it hurts, the words having been on the tip of your tongue for years but you’d always held back in fear of what would happen.

Well, you’re no longer afraid. You’re too far gone now.

Sting’s eyes narrow and his face twists, ready to explode, before he breathes, and a smirk curls onto his lips. “You’ll never be apart of your pathetic guild again,” he hisses, “you’ll be stuck in Sabertooth for the rest of your life. Only, Master will make sure your life is a living hell.”

He sends another sharp kick at your side, but says nothing more as he turns, walking off with a huff.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself, slowly pushing yourself up to your knees where you stay, chest heaving, the pain radiating across your entire body, fingers finding your neck and touching the offended skin gently as you hiss in response.

You didn’t regret surrendering, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of what would happen when you walked into the inn that night.

You never should’ve left Fairy Tail. It was a regret you’d probably take to your grave.

“We actually have points thanks to you.”

Blinking at the sound of Gray’s voice, you slowly glance up at him, arm still wrapped tightly around your stomach as you stare up at him.

“I’m glad,” you whisper, smiling gently, “Fairy Tail deserves to win.”

Gray sighs, and stepping towards you, he reaches a hand out; “here,” he says softly, voice a mere whisper. You meet his eyes, before glancing at his hand for a moment, slowly slipping your own in it. He helps you to your feet, holding you up as you waver, hissing in pain, and then, before you know it, before you can even help yourself, you fall against him, forehead pressing against his shoulder as you let out a whimper.

“You know,” Gray says after a moment, “I still remember that kiss.”

Shaking your head, you let out a quiet, somewhat forced laugh.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“You were gone,” you whisper, finally answering. “You all were, but you were too. And... And I couldn’t handle staring at those doors everyday waiting for you to walk through them, only for you never to.” Pulling back, you meet his eyes, “I love you, I wanted to tell you that day, and it crushed me that I never did.”

Hands falling on your waist, Gray shakes his head; “no one would tell me where you were when we came back. It’s like every time I asked, this look would come over them and everyone would fall silent. When I learned it had been seven years, I wanted to see you first and tell you... tell you, I love you too.”

Biting your lip, “it’s too late,” you whisper. “The others must hate me and I... Sting will never let me leave.”

Gray’s grip tightens. “They don’t hate you, Y/N. Everyone misses you. I miss you,” and then, he shifts, cupping your cheek to pull your eyes on his own again. “I need you to come back.”

“But... Sting--”

“We’ll figure it out, Master will figure it out,” Gray argues, shaking his head. “The Guild needs you. I need you.”

Lips parting, you try to find the words, only to realize there are none. So, instead, you simply fall into his arms, holding him tight against you and hold on to his promise.

[mystic-shadows42]

Holding Out Hope

A/N: This was just a simple quick write so there are probably mistakes.

Pairing: Clark Kent x reader

Warnings: Language

Summary: Clark has a hard time trying to find his place in the world but when he takes a job he’s unlikely to stay in for long, there’s an unexpected person there that he can’t simply walk away from.

Joe.

That’s what he said his name was. When you first met him, you didn’t think it suited him. He was a tall dark-haired, muscular, blue-eyed man with a gentleness to him.

Right away he stood out.

Joe was brought onto the crew by your father, the captain. He was quiet but observant. He always listened and remembered things that other people would long forget about.

He wasn’t the type of man you’re used to seeing on your father’s crew. He was actually nice and not handsy like the others.

You met him on his first day and told him of the small shop you worked at and he made it a habit to go whenever he was back from his fishing trips.

During his visits, you’d both make small talk. He was private about his life but was definitely curious about yours. You wanted to respect his privacy so you told him the truth of yours.

You were the youngest child of four. All of them had left to start their own lives elsewhere but would call occasionally. The home life wasn’t too great. Your mother had left and your father was a drunk. He would only stop drinking when he had to work and needed more money for it.

There were times when you’d ramble on and sneak a look over at him to see he was hanging on to every word. 

Occasionally, you’d treat him to lunch but even then you could tell he was still putting up a front as if he couldn’t simply relax. Sometimes he’d even leave abruptly after apologizing profusely.

It was understandable but after what seemed like the umpteenth time you started to think it was because of you. Perhaps you weren’t as good company as you thought.

Joe must’ve noticed your uncertainty because he would sometimes surprise you with gifts. Needless to say, it didn’t take much for you to fall hard for him. 

There were obvious signs there for something to flourish between you both but he was always the one to pull away.

So when you were on your break outside the shop with him you asked him what you’ve been dying to know.

“So, I have to ask. Why have you stuck around doing this job? Most people leave after the first week.”

He looked away and smiled then looked back at you. At his expression, you nudged his arm playfully.

“I find that staying here a little while has its benefits.”

You gave him a look which he knew what you meant. He didn’t give you much to go off of.

“My dad doesn’t pay you enough to think like that.”

“It’s not always about the pay.” He threw you a look that simply melted your heart. “Would you believe me if I told you the best part of my day is coming into the shop and seeing you?”

You slightly tilted your head not expecting the deemed quiet man by the crew to actually say this to you. Joe was far too handsome to be into you. Just by looking at him, you knew he didn’t belong in a less than ideal place with nothing to offer him whatsoever.

“Well, I don’t actually believe you.”

He had a faint smile on his face. “Open your hand.”

You held out your hand and he took something out of his back pocket and placed it in your hand.

“A gift?”

He nodded and gestured for you to look at it. You opened the small bag pulling the strings apart to see pearls inside.

They were beautiful and bigger than any you’ve ever seen. You inspected them more closely.

“These are South Sea pearls. I only know because my father obsesses over finding some one day.” You looked up at him astonished. These pearls were worth a good amount of money. “There’s no possible way you found these fishing.”

He put his hands over yours covering the pearls.

“I’m going to be leaving soon. Use these to get out of here.”

Your heart sunk at the news of him leaving soon. He was the whole reason you got excited for the day and dressed up. 

Just seeing him affected your whole day in a better way.

“I can’t. This is too big a gift to have.”

“They’re yours now.”

He said it so calmly as if obtaining them wasn’t a big deal. Even though you knew people would kill just to get their hands on them.

“How’d you get them?” 

“I flew,” he said, a small smile gracing his face before he turned his back to you.

“Joe.”

Even as you said his name he didn’t react. He hardly ever responded to it. You always suspected he was hiding something. Nobody simply ignores their name when called.

“Wait!”

He turned and you ran to catch up to him.

“At least tell me your real name.”

He sighed and you knew then that he wouldn’t. It did hurt a little that after all these months of knowing him that he didn’t even trust you enough to know his name.

It made you sad that nothing significant ever blossomed between you both though you knew he could feel the connection too. You didn’t think it’d hurt this much to lose a person you hardly knew anything about.

He lowered his head when you started to drop yours in disappointment. He looked genuinely concerned. It was hard to determine if he would even miss you or even thought of you the way you did him.

“I promise you that one day when I’m not running anymore. When I find out who I truly am, then I’ll find you and tell you my name.”

You shook your head. “That’s impossible. How will you ever find me?”

“Don’t lose hope.”

He moved closer to you and leaned down a little to be leveled with you. Your lips parted and your heart started to race at how close he was. He had his eyes closed already so you closed yours as you moved forward.

You were finally going to kiss.

“Hey, dipshit! It’s time to go!”

You groaned and opened your eyes to see he already opened his and was watching you.

“I have to go.”

You reached out for his hand and saw him smile down at your joined hands. He gave yours a small squeeze in reassurance.

“Captains tired of waiting! Hurry it up!”

His hand slowly slipped from yours. He smiled sadly and turned his back to you as he began walking away.

****

In your time of finding a place, you were tracked down by a determined reporter named Lois Lane. Her presence took you by surprise especially when she shared her story with you.

He was going by the name Liam. She told you briefly of her findings and how he saved her life with his ‘abilities’ yet somehow you began to think over your encounters with him.

The constant short meet-ups with him weren’t excuses. He was actually going out and saving someone’s life.

It just all seemed fitting for him. 

A savior.

Lois had questioned you explaining that his time fishing was the longest job he stuck with and she suspected it was because of you. She kept smiling at the stories you’d share of her with your encounters with him. 

There wasn’t much to go off because he was so discreet but it was the way he made you feel that made it seem everlasting. That much she could tell in your eyes and words alone.

Before she departed her last words to you were that he’d definitely find you again.

The idea lifted your spirits but you certainly missed his company.

After about a month and a couple of weeks you still hadn’t found a place to settle in. Nothing ever seemed like home to you.

You felt like a ghost going from place to place. Seeing a new area was nice but there was still that never-ending feeling of being alone.

The thing you missed from your old town was the view of the ocean. So that’s what led you here, to the beach.

You were walking aimlessly on the shoreline when you looked up after a huge sudden gust of wind hit you.

You gasped at the sight of ‘him’ standing just a few feet in front of you. He was smiling once he saw your reaction. He looked the same, only he was clean-shaven and he seemed more relaxed.

He began making his way to you still having his bright smile on his face. You immediately dropped your sandals and ran into his arms. He hugged you to him feeling his deep chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I told you I’d find you.”

You pulled back but still stayed in his arms.

“Now I know how you got here. You flew,” you chuckled remembering his words from before. He brushed the hair in your face back and smiled. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“So are you going to tell me what your name is or do I have to keep calling you Joe?”

“My name’s Clark. Clark Kent. As you may have heard, I’m not of this world but raised into it.”

“I’ve heard some stories.” 

You didn’t quite know what he was or how he came to have these abilities but all you knew was that you cared for him deeply. Nothing else mattered.

“How are you liking your new life?”

“I felt like how you used to. Not really belonging anywhere. Going from place to place. Missing you and our annual strolls.”

He rubbed your arms once you started to get goosebumps. His touch felt safe and warm. Something you could get used to. Everything about him captivated you in every way.

“Close your eyes.”

You took a deep breath and closed them. 

After a couple of seconds, he told you to open them. All you did was stare at him admiring just how handsome he truly is. He chuckled seeing your entranced state and told you to look down.

Confused, you looked down and saw that neither of you were on land anymore. You were both floating and had a vast view of the landscape.

Naturally, you gasped wrapping your arms around him thinking you were going to fall. You could hear him laughing but the thought of being so high up had overtaken your thoughts.

To capture your attention, he turned your face to him and looked down at your lips as if silently asking for your permission. You nodded and that was all he needed to kiss you. 

His lips were soft but the force was rough. You both had been desperate for this moment. It had been put off for far too long.

“I’ll never let you go. Never fall, never get hurt, and never leave you all alone again.”

His words were tender and sweet.

“Would you like to come to Kansas with me?”

This time you were the one with the permanent smile on your face chuckling. You had unshed tears in your eyes at how happy you were.

“I’d love to go to Kansas with you, Clark.”

[keijifairy]

accidentally hitting your face with a volleyball 〃

♡  miya atsumu, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi

genre. fluff

-`,✎ ❝ hi! i saw your "accidentally hitting your face with a volleyball" hcs and i was wondering if you could do it for miya twins and sakusa too? have a nice day ♡ ❞ @wansseul

author's note. this took a hot min 😔 but thank you for waiting 💞 miya twins and omi ?? yes please 😽

+ this was a bit different than the first one but i hope u still like it !! 💗

༘ miya atsumu

━ you've met miya atsumu before, and you like to think it was some sort of cute meet you read about, but looking back into it, bumping into him in a hallway at nationals when you only wanted to refill some water bottles was kinda embarrassing, and the sweat dripping down your temple and your hair a hot mess was definitely not cute at all.

━ so you don't think about how he handed you the water bottles with your fingers making contact as he flashes you a stupidly boyish smirk, saying something along the cliche lines of "be careful next time. wouldn't want ya falling for someone else." and his eyes lingering on you a bit longer than you could handle as if you're in some fanfiction.

━ you only bowed your head hastily, trying to hide the flush on your cheeks as you thank him for what seemed to be the millionth time and run away. because you're not going to see him again, right?

━ but then you remember! that handsome man with an awfully familiar black jersey that you made a fool of yourself in front of…is from..inarizaki..and karasuno is competing with them...aaaand he's just standing across the court...

━ you try to erase any memory of your little encounter with him not even fifteen minutes ago, as you busy yourself with your team and hopefully, he doesn't spot you. little did you know though, he didn't miss you cheering for his opponents (well, duh) on the corner of his eye. (how could he miss you? you were a bit obvious with how you sneakily catch glimpes of him, and mayhaps, that inflated his ego a bit).

━ hear him out! he was only trying to impress you, okay? but that didn't really work out as luck didn't seem to be by his (and your) side today as the ball he slams onto the other side of the net doesn't land on the court, but instead on your face.

━ there was an attempt. a for effort!!

━ "nice going, dumbass." osamu deadpans from behind him, some trying to stifle their cackle at their teammate's poor attempt while the rest wince when they hear you groaning in pain.

━ the karasuno boys immediately start rushing towards you, but when they see miya atsumu strolling towards them, they halt in their tracks. (don't be fooled, he's close to melting into a puddle in shame under all that suave exterior).

━ he holds his hand out with concern masked by the same stupidly boyish smirk that's been taking up your mind as you purse your lips and reluctantly take his hand — and you suddenly feel like passing out any minute (the ball in your face may not be the reason).

━ "this must be what fate feels like." 

━ you warily chuckle, letting go of his hand as you clutch your forehead. "if a ball getting slammed into your face is what you call fate, then i guess...yeah."

━ honestly, you're just thankful the cameras aren't rolling. there might be some people recording this ridiculous scene, but you think you're way past the humiliation.

━ "sorry about that." he silently winces as he not so subtly stares at the patch of red on your skin. "let's take ya to a nurse."

━ "it's fine," your shoulders lifted in a shrug, "and no thank you. i don't think my boys would...like that—" you look over your shoulder with a giggle and atsumu follows, only to see karasuno (not so subtly) glaring daggers at him— "and it seems like your game is starting soon anyway."

━ he only chuckles, turning his focus back to you and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. "let's see who you'll be calling your boy later then."

━ you sputter out a laugh in disbelief, as he shoots you a wave with his other hand resting on his hip. "cheer for me, yeah? i'll help ya get that treated once we're done."

━ "this is embarrassing." osamu murmurs to himself in the background with a roll of his eyes.

༘ miya osamu

━ you were only wandering around inarizaki after your own after school club had ended while waiting for your friends, but as you pass by the open doors of the school gymnasium and hear voices that seem to be fighting, you sneakily poke your head in.

━ "why do you look like that???" 

━ "we're twins, dumb fuck."

━ you raise your eyebrow, stifling the chuckle from your throat in amusement. are they the miya twins the girls are obsessively squealing over in their daily hallway gossip? they seem...entertaining. huh, you probably should've paid more attention to your classmates.

━ too busy with their bickering, the twins and the other boys don't seem to notice a random student hanging by the doorway. you should've made your presence known, because it is the volleyball club and that means balls would be flying around the gym.

━ osamu throws a ball in atsumu's direction, but the latter quickly moves out of the way. "hey!"

━ and there comes the ball flying towards you. 

━ "who's the dumbass now?" 

━ "still you."

━ osamu ignores how his twin flips him off as soon as he turns his back on him. he quietly approaches you, reaching out his hand. "sorry, that was meant for that idiot—" he juts his chin at atsumu's direction— "over there." 

━ "it wasn't me who hit them!"

━ you blink, mindlessly clasping your hand with his as he lifts you up. warm. you think to yourself, feeling heat creep up your neck. but he lets go as you get up, and you weirdly come to miss the feeling of his hand with yours.

━ perhaps the ball might have hit your head a bit too hard but you suddenly wonder, did you always have an attractive boy like miya osamu at your school?

━ "you have really pretty eyes," you mumble, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could even process what's happening and certainly loud and clear enough for him to hear. a twinkle of amusement flashes in his eyes and you see a small quirk in his lips. "i must've hit ya harder than i thought."

━ your eyes slowly widen, finally snapping out of whatever love at first sight moment you just experienced. it dart anywhere, anywhere but that growing smirk in his lips that mimick his twin's (but atsumu looks like he's about to have a laughing fit any second).

━ "i...i mean..." stop talking "im to-totally fine! a-okay!!" a-okay???? "don't wor...worry it's uh not that bad… um i think i uh have to g-go n..now…"

━ osamu tilts his head, and you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest because you didn't think he would be this cute !?? UM ?? those girls weren't exaggerating ???

━ "your eyes are really pretty too." 

━ he simply nods his head like he didn't just make your heart race with one simple sentence, turning his back away from you but you don't miss the small smile tugging up his lips.

━ he walks back to the court, with atsumu saying something to him that's surely about what just happened but you don't care, you think.

━ miya osamu just accidentally hit you with a ball and called your eyes pretty. 

━ you purse your lips, trying to suppress a squeal as you slowly walk away and exit the gym.

━ "that was some shitty romcom scene that i almost barfed. i was hoping for more action." atsumu's laughter boomed around the walls, and osamu shut him up with a ball in his face.

༘ sakusa kiyoomi

━ "omi, can you teach me how to spike like you?"

━ "no."

━ you gasp dramatically, clutching your shirt where your heart is supposed to be for extra effect, but kiyoomi doesn't even spare you another glance. "tch, rude."

━ shouyou runs up to you, a ball in his hands and a smile reaching up to his eyes. "i'll teach you, y/n!" 

━ you childishly stick your tongue out towards kiyoomi, who does nothing but continue to ignore you as he fixes his stance in the court. huffing, you turn back to shouyou and mimic his smile. "heh, thanks!"

━ you are the beloved manager of the msby black jackals, and it's kinda like babysitting grown men plus not so secretly crushing on the gorgeous sakusa kiyoomi, but it's a job that you've grown accustomed to and actually enjoy. they're taking a well deserved break, but kiyoomi is still practicing his spikes while shoyou try teaching you how to do them. honestly, were you even listening to him? not really. 

━ you're only nodding wordlessly as your eyes shamelessly focus on how kiyoomi rears his hand back as the ball seems to be falling in the air, slow motion style (and that makes it cooler, you know?). you swear your eyes are sparkling as he flicks his wrist and effortlessly hits the ball.

━ you don't know when you've moved close to where he's spiking, but he only notices you still dazed just as the ball slams into your face.

━ "WAAAH, [Y/N]!!!" the impact of the ball had you dropping to the floor, and you feel your eyes immediately tear up. the boys run towards you, with koutarou placing your head on his lap as he cradles your face in his hands like you're a small child. "where does it hurt???"

━ you wince as he squishes your cheeks on his palms. "my face, duh."

━ "rule one, don't aim for the opponent's face." you look up to see kiyoomi towering over you, and you don't know if you're hallucinating but you swear, his eyes soften.

━ "oh," you jut your bottom lip, sitting properly with koutarou supporting your back, "so that was part of a lesson?"

━ "no." he heaves a sigh. "i'm sorry."

━ you bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to show as you suddenly feel weirdly giddy after getting hit by a ball. nonetheless, you wipe the tears in your eyes with the back of your palms as you bounce back to your feet (well, wobbled, but the boys supported you <3), and you really couldn't hide the smile at this point. "it's okay, omi."

━ his brows knitted in a frown. "...are you okay?"

━ "aw, you do care~"

━ he blinks. once. twice. (the boys don't really do a good job in stifling their laughter). sakusa kiyoomi does care actually, but that's not something he's just going to say right in your face, you know?

━ you playfully roll your eyes, flashing him a thumbs up. "it actually doesn't hurt like i thought it would!" even as you rub your forehead to try and soothe the pain, the smile doesn't leave your face and kiyoomi feels his heart hammering in his chest like some lovesick fool (and that, he definitely isn't!) "well, it does hurt, but i feel energized more than anything!"

━ you're pretty weird, he thinks, but it's quite endearing in a way and it's something that he adores about you. so for now, he swallows the words he's been dying to say, picking up the ball as he looks straight into your eyes. "come on, i'll show you the proper way to spike."

[beyondspaceandstars]

Take Me Away

Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: slight angst, eventual fluff Summary: Royalty!AU - You and your lady-in-waiting Wanda have been in a secret, forbidden relationship but everything gets tested when your father, the King, announces you are to be wed to a prince from a neighboring country. A/N: i’ve been loving royalty!au stuff lately and wanted to take my own stab at it. it’s not the most complicated, spectacular piece but i enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

Wanda always arrived to your chambers right at the crack of dawn. Ever the punctual one, your lady-in-waiting never wasted a second once that bright light of a new day came through the windows. Sometimes she was even tasked with waking you up, ranting and raving about how your gown was going to take forever to lace up or that your hair wasn’t going to be dry enough to meet your family for breakfast.

Her frantic attitude always made you laugh. You thought her worrying heart was so silly and to show for it, you’d sometimes make it a point to shut her up with a kiss. One thing would lead to another until you two were lost among the silk sheets.

That all, though, had come to a stop today. Wanda was late this morning and you sadly knew why. Her heart must’ve been breaking, taking all her energy to pick up the pieces one by one this morning. You didn’t blame her, really, you felt the same break within you.

It had all fallen out last night. Your father, the usually benevolent King, had held a feast for your court and the royal family of a neighboring country. This wasn’t unusual for him as he very much loved to entertain. Everything had been going smooth. You were lost in the dancing and laughing with the patron, eagerly showing off the brand new dress your tailor had delivered that morning. You even got to sneak some cheeky glances at Wanda who stood off with the other servants, ready when needed.

Everything came to a screeching halt the second dinner had concluded. In between the refills of wine and arrival of dessert, your father had a surprise announcement to. It was as if a million bombs were going off. He revealed you were set to be married to the bordering country’s Prince. No one had told you, not even a hint from your mother, just this public declaration. You looked towards the king and his son — your soon-to-be-husband — and they were just beaming with joy. All plans and politics were falling into place for them while your world was crumbling.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom where you vomited profusely. Wanda, though, didn’t arrive to help. In fact, she didn’t arrive to your room for the rest of the night, sending one of the temporary servants instead.

You fell asleep feeling the loneliest you had felt in a long time. And those feelings certainly weren’t subsiding as you sat at your vanity the next morning, still waiting for Wanda.

You had been sitting alone for so long you thought she had abandoned her duties — or maybe she had just straight up retired last night and you were waiting on nothing — but then there was the unmistakable sound of your heavy door creaking open followed the gentle clicking of it closing. You peered into your looking glass, shifting it so slightly to show you the presence behind you.

"Wanda," you sighed, her naming falling from your lips as if it was the sweetest honey.

"Your Highness." While unsurprising, her cold and stoic response cut you. Your body tensed. Last time she had called you that was upon your very first meeting. Before she was the lover you kept in the shadows. Before there was ever a chance of losing her. The royal title felt like a death sentence now.

After a deep breath, you slowly placed the looking glass back on the table. You felt Wanda approach you from behind with caution. You didn’t know whether to turn around or ask her to begin her morning duties. If you were to be really honest with yourself, you just wanted to grab her and hold one another.

But Wanda seemed to have decided for the both of you. Hesitantly, she reached for the brush on the vanity and gently began on your hair. You wanted to cry.

"Wanda, please," you mumbled. "Talk to me."

"Talk to you?" She repeated, her fingers now running through your hair giving slight pulls as she fixed the curls. The actions reminded you of when she would… "And what would you like me to say?"

"Something, anything!" You were nearly crying, your words coming out in weak begs. "I didn’t know anything about it, you have to trust me on that. I—I don’t want… I could never—,"

"Never, what?" Wanda cut you off, the brushing motions in your hair suddenly halted. "You couldn’t possibly think we could ever be together fully. I’ll admit, I indulged in this fantasies but I’ve stopped. We weren’t meant to be and you sure weren’t meant to be a single princess forever." She cleared her throat. "This was bound to happen, I fear."

"No, no," you fought back, shaking your head insistently. Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you only jumped at the touch, feeling that burning connection between you two. You couldn’t believe how much hold she had over you. How much you had over one another.

"Your Highness, I’m afraid—,"

"We can run away." The words slipped out of you so fast you never had a chance to bite your tongue. It felt like the world stopped, like you had created your own bomb to set off. Wanda’s grip on your shoulder got tighter. You straightened your posture, meaning business now despite the tears still flowing. You placed your hand atop of hers and continued, "I really think we could do it, dear. I can access the family funds, we could pack a few things, then be off in the night. Wouldn’t that just be nice? We could go wherever, start whatever life we want. You’re not wrong to say this was bound to happen but that doesn’t mean we can’t escape it."

"My Lady… There must be some consideration for the prince, the kingdoms, your subjects—,"

"They’re better to have no ruler than one who lives in constant agony."

The declaration was bold but it was the farthest from a lie. You decided to finally turn and face Wanda, your hand now holding hers with the greatest, most loving strength. The first thing you noticed were her eyes. They were so red and heavy, no doubt from hours of crying. Her hair was a mess as well, complimented by the worn down servants gown she wore. She hadn’t put any effort in today, probably dragging herself about as you predicted.

Slowly, you pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Wanda let out a breathy gasp. When you met her eyes again, it appeared the deal had been sealed. But you needed her to say it.

"We can really do this, can’t we?" She asked shyly.

You nodded, a little grin playing at your lips. "I think we could go anywhere," you confirmed. "Maybe we can start a farm, raise some chickens or cows. Or — Oh! We could start a nice garden. I loved the one here but father wouldn’t let me learn how to care for it."

Wanda sighed as she watched you get lost in a new fantasy, one way beyond just being together but having a life. "Speaking of your father, he will send people after us, won’t he? The palace guards will die trying to find us if they have to."

You simply shrugged. Sure, she wasn’t wrong, but this was a big place and who knew what bigger places were out there. "Let them," you finally said. "We’ll be so far long gone before they realize it they won’t know what hit them."

Silence fell between you two.

"You’re going to give up all this for a chance for us to be together?" Wanda finally asked, motioning towards the gloriousness of the castle chamber. She was a very thorough one, extremely detailed-oriented, which made her the best partner-in-crime you had decided before ever engaging romantically. Eventually, it was one of the things that made you fall head over heals. She noticed everything, always the sweet and cool observer. You didn’t blame her for using the skill now.

"Wanda, dear," you sighed as your hand crept its way to her neck. "I’d give it all up a million times over to be with you."

Your sweet lover looked like she was now going to cry so you took the leap to lean up, catching her lips with yours. After a stunned moment, she returned the kiss, your lips moving in a familiar sync. It was electrifying knowing you hadn’t lost her. Knowing she was most likely going to be it for you, forever. Completely devoted to one another, comfortably and freely.

Wanda’s hand begin caressing your cheek when she pulled away slightly. Your foreheads were touching now but it still wasn’t close enough for you.

"Let’s do it," she whispered. "Take me away."

Words seemed so hard, something only the presence of Wanda could do to you. Unable to figure what was right to say now, of all times, you nodded and wrapped one arm around her waist. You pulled her into you, hugging her with all your might. She didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, soaking each other in.

"Of course, dear," you eventually said. Such small words they held the mysterious beginning and marked the glorious end.

[industriallyinsecure]

Do you still take requests? 👉👈 If so, would you like writing headcanons for a darling that doesn't understand the situation and is too trusting for their own good? Like, they got knocked out on the street by their yandere but when they wake up they believe that they just fainted on the street and the yandere is not their kidnapper but their "savior" looking after them while they were out cold?

I do still take requests! Unless it’s stated otherwise somewhere like the top of my blog or in the master list section, requests are always open!

Formaggio doesn't really know what to expect, but you wrapping his knuckles up and fretting over him like a hen was certainly not it. There’s a certain cheekiness to him, but nothing too overt. It’s hard for him to keep it a secret, so if you asked what happened he won’t hesitate to regale you with an exaggerated version of what happened. He really hopes you won’t ask, though. It’s hard for him to think on his feet when he actually needs to, but he always comes up with a witty deflection that keeps your mind off of it. Tries to use his wiles to keep you around for as long as possible until he is forced to shrink you and keep you tucked away in his underwear drawer.

It takes Illuso every ounce of self control he has to not burst out laughing. Instead he quickly puts on a concerned façade and acts like this was just a random act of kindness. He insists that you stay with him until he’s sure you won’t go blacking out again. You don’t exactly have a choice in the matter regardless because Illuso can schmooze anyone into getting what he wants. He forces friendship on you and, hey, why not just stay over here for a while? You live so close and he’s obviously just looking out for you. Soon enough, you have a very toxic attention whore of a ‘friend’ that insists on controlling every aspect of your life. But, he was looking out for you, right? He saved you that day. He must only want what’s best for you.

Pesci doesn’t really know what to do. It was a moment of panic. He calls Prosciutto and is crying over the phone until his big brother finds him and helps him deal with it. Soon, you’re whisked away to a hotel room while Prosciutto looks for nearby apartments that Pesci could afford. He can’t bring himself to settle in next to you while you sleep, the guilt is overwhelming. When you wake up, he’s overjoyed that he didn’t accidentally kill you and that you seem to like him as well! More accurately, you were thankful that he saved you from being killed or worse, but to Pesci anything positive meant that you obviously reciprocate his feelings. Like Illuso, a toxic co-dependent relationship forms and soon you find yourself at the mercy of his constant self deprecation and gaslighting.

This was worse than Prosciutto thought. Part of the reason he took you was because he didn’t trust you to not get taken advantage of. Better him than someone who had nefarious intentions (ahem), right? He handles the situation well for the most part and frequently has to stop himself from taking you by the shoulders and shaking you so hard your brain rattles around in your skull. The way you shyly snuggle into his shoulder and thank him profusely tugs at his heart and confirms that this was the right choice. He’d enjoy this gentle domesticity in the moment and deal with your tears later if he needed to. It would be easy to subtly age you and bring you back into his arms if you felt well enough to leave, chastising you about taking better care of yourself until you were ready to go home. It’s sort of munchausen by proxy, but he’s not delusional enough to believe there’s something legitimately wrong. He knows it’s artificial, but he does play it up when he sits by your bedside and gently dabs a cool cloth on your face.

Melone treats it like a Misery situation. ‘It’s storming so hard outside and you’re pretty roughed up. All the power lines are down and the hospitals are full. I’ll take care of you’. In reality, he used a throwaway Junior he made just for this occasion to break your leg and incapacitate you. He’s not stupid enough to reveal that he’s your stalker, though. He prefers the part of the Good Samaritan that took you in and is taking care of you. He’ll milk the situation for as long as possible until it turns into an actual Misery situation where he has to break your legs again to bring you back. When you wake up the second time, he’s much more comfortable being lovey dovey and smothering you with love and attention. The first time was a trial run, but now that he tested the waters, he’s more comfortable snuggling close and watching movies with you while you recover, and he might even rub your feet if they’re sore from disuse. If you end up falling for your caretaker, Melone will be overjoyed!

Ghiaccio is afraid you’ve caught on to his ruse and prepares to incapacitate you again. In his time in Passione, he’s learned that no one is what they seem. But you’re oddly compliant when he tells you that you can’t leave just yet. Not that you could find your way back to Firenze, he brought you to the Alps for a reason. Yeah, it was a shitty little place next to a sheep farm and it was cold as all hell (not that he personally minded), but with the low temperatures it would be easy to catch you. He concocts a lie about how he was visiting the city and he couldn’t just leave you there. And you believe him. He then tells you it would be a while before you could go back because the roads were iced over and he couldn’t get his car to start. And you believed him again. As long as you’d blindly believe his words, he could keep you snug and safely nestled away in a little Alpine village until you eventually return his love. You’re obligated to, after all he’s done.

Risotto is always in combat mode, never once letting his guard down. When he slips his arms around your waist to reciprocate your hug, he’s actually just preparing to overpower you and crush you under his weight. He does enjoy the warmth of your body snug against him and the way you nuzzle into his neck. It makes his heart ache when he realizes you weren’t the slightest bit scared of him, and only makes his obsession worse. He knows very well that part of the reason he’s the way he is (meaning yandere) is because of the social disconnect in his childhood because of how he looks. But all he sees is gratitude in your eyes, and it fills his cold, thought to be long dead heart with a giddiness befitting of a child. He can’t help it when Metallica springs into action when you leave, but he’s quick to catch you before you fall, tutting and informing you that your foot must've been hurt when you fell the first time. No worries, he’ll keep it wrapped up and keep you at his dingy little apartment that he may or may not have bought for the purpose of keeping you tucked away.

Sorbet and Gelato take advantage of the situation. Gelato tries to exaggerate what happened and make it seem like they saved you from an onslaught of mafiosi, but Sorbet reigns him in without giving too much away or letting you know that it’s a fabricated story. Gelato uses any opportunity to invade your personal space and cuddle up close to you under the guise of taking care of you. Sorbet is always more subdued in his affections, preferring to just check on you and take your temperature once in a while. But if you finally ask to go home, they’ll let you go. They always enjoy a game of cat and mouse.

[slashbitch2]

Wavelength

slight nsfw warning ;)

Eve had always felt that she stood out from those around her. That in every situation, in every group and at every point in her life, she was walking round on an entirely different wavelength. Although, living this way wasn't as direly lonely as it sounded, rather she learnt to appreciate the few and far apart moments with company. When someone would, for just a split second, understand her.

The first person to ever make her feel this way, and regrettably the only for a very long time, was Ted. He'd swept her off her feet and into a less isolated world, a concept so unfamiliar at the time that she'd allowed herself be dragged out to sea. Then there was Brandon, who she was told would change her whole world. And he did, for a while.

Brandon was her life preserver until his priorities changed; until Mother's day cards became Valentines day cards, movie nights were exchanged for house parties and homework for alcohol. But Eve wasn't the kind of mom to act as though this behaviour was unwarranted and abhorrent, so she let him wedge the door shut and clear his search history. She could cope with a little more distance.

Then along came Ted's affair, their crumbling marriage and eventual divorce. Before she knew it, she was drowning.

The all too familiar feeling of solitude reappeared, completely devastating for her when Brandon left for college. However, this time she swore that she wouldn't let it overwhelm her, and did everything possible to prevent herself from sinking. Which initially started with a class at a community college, and ended with her lying in the arms of both her colleague Amanda, and classmate Julian. And yet, after they'd hurriedly packed up their things and left, she felt no better.

Brandon was sitting on the porch when she found him later. His back was turned to her, but the hunched up posture and awkward shuffling said more than enough. In that moment, Eve reverted back to her old way of thinking. She came to the conclusion that she'd failed as a mother, that her mistake was unforgivable despite the years of morose behaviour and selfish demeanour Brandon had subjected her to.

For retribution, she removed Julian's number from her contacts, predicting that he wouldn't be able cope with remaining friends. He too immature, still in that irrational sulky stage of adolescence. Next, she specified to Amanda that what happened was a one time thing, though she was already way ahead of Eve, chatting casually like nothing had taken place that weekend. Her easy-going reaction was a nice break from the prevailing tension with Brandon, which she then mentioned to her friend.

She tried to casually bring the subject up in the same manner that she imagined Amanda would if the roles were reversed, acting like the issue was nothing to do with her.

"As much as I hate to use such an outdated phrase," Her friend said. "boys will be boys. "

Eve chuckled, though the general concern weighing down on her shoulders meant it came out as more of a scoff. "You can say that again."

There's a brief lull in conversation as Eve disinterestedly taps away at her phone while Amanda sips thoughtfully at her coffee. The silence is only invoked by an awareness of social standards, since there's much Eve wants to talk to her friend about, but feels would be inappropriate in public.

Eventually, Amanda's the one to break the silence. "Are you still looking for someone to fill in for Sarah?"

Eve's attention flickered back to the woman sitting opposite. "I am." She replied hesitantly, knowing that she ought to have posted the job advertisement weeks ago, but had forgotten.

"I know someone who'd be good." Amanda was sliding her phone across the table before Eve got the chance to respond.

The screen displayed what she could only assume was a job application, though the font was too small to actually read. Squinting, she picked up the device to try and glean some information about the potential applicant.

Amanda continued as Eve scrolled. "She hasn't worked with seniors before, but has managerial experience."

"Are you sure she'd want this job?" Eve asked apprehensively as she set the phone down. "Seems a little over-qualified to me."

"Yeah, she's serious about it." Amanda's expression grew more determined. "Y/N just moved here. Mentioned she was looking for a more lowkey kind of job."

Eve remained doubtful.

"She's travelled a lot. Had a lot of different jobs." Amanda took another sip of her drink. "But she said she wants to settle down somewhere. Get a job that'll take her to retirement- which was an exaggeration, but you get the gist."

"Well." Eve sighed. "You can't get much closer to retirement than working at a nursing home."

"Exactly. So can I pass on her contact details then?"

"Sure." She shrugged. Assuming that her friend's recommendation was genuinely helpful, then she would be saved from suffering through the tedious interview process, which was worth taking a risk for.

---

As Eve sat at her desk, the world around her faded into obscurity. Without Sarah as the assistant manager, she'd been suffocating under piles of neglected paperwork, only now forcing her way through it. The main thought motivating her was that you were due to arrive any minute, for what she'd described as a first informal interview. The idea of conducting anything more formal this late into the evening was unappealing. So, based on the unusual circumstance by which you'd applied, and the strange time slot reserved, the interview would be more casual.

Finding that her eyes were starting to strain, she granted herself a quick break to look round the office. Eventually she settled on looking out the window, content watching the world pass by. The day had been unexpectedly hot, and some of that humidity still lingered, but judging by the gentle breeze filtering in through a crack in the window, the evening must've started to cool. A soft pink colour filled the sky, darkening to orange where the sun had just set over the horizon. From the other direction, a deep blue had begun to filter into view, the only indication that night was approaching.

When her gaze drifted back to the room, she realised that the pink light was cast around the room, bathing every surface in a delicate glow. How the simple beauty of the evening had previously escaped her attention was a mystery. One that prompted Eve to take a break to admire it.

The break was short-lived, however, as a sharp knock at the door quickly stole her attention away.

"Come in." She called out but found her voice hoarse from disuse. She frantically cleared her throat as the guest entered.

Eve looked up at you and smiled politely, then down at her desk, then did a double take. Although she hadn't given enough thought to form any preconceived image of what you might look like, she certainly hadn't expected someone quite so attractive.

As soon as the label crossed her mind, she was already berating herself for it. You'd barely entered the room and were here for business, she couldn't let herself think of you in that way. It was wrong. Both professionally and morally.

"Evening." Your voice was deep, smooth and with an accent she couldn't distinguish.

Eve tried her best to smile amiably, though she was sure the emotion wasn't reflected in her eyes. Instead she scanned your body from top to bottom, lingering on your neck, and then your hands. The action was automatic. An unintentional response to her attraction- and there it was again. She'd allowed herself to get distracted barely ten seconds later.

"Hi." Eve was too quiet, her tone lacking the necessary command. She swallowed. "Please, take a seat." And smiled, this time more genuinely.

"Thank you."

She watched you stiffly slide into the seat, effortlessly demanding the attention of the entire room. Although Eve had known you for less than a minute, she'd already decided that there was something hypnotic about the way you moved. From the slight twitch in the corner of your lips, to the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Every movement, regardless of it being barely perceptible, had her mesmerized, however she was mostly fixated on your hands. How they couldn't quite settle in your lap, rather were wrung about anxiously until abruptly stilling.

Your hands falling limp dragged Eve back into reality as it dawned on her that she'd been staring for a little longer than appropriate. She literally had to shake herself out of the senseless state and clear her throat once more before she was ready to continue.

"It's nice to meet you." Jolted into reality, she outstretched her hand, which you eagerly met. Your grip was firm, matched with a confident yet humble smile that looked well practiced.

"And you."

Eve already understood how you'd succeeded at accumulating such an impressive employment history, as every second of the interview so far, you'd acted perfectly. Like you'd written the book on 'How to Handle Job Interviews.'

"Just call me Eve." Separating from the handshake, she dismissively waved her hand, unable to hold the eye contact for any longer. There was an inquisitive manner to the way you were watching her, as though you were trying to ascertain the most information possible from appearance alone. Being exposed to your scrutinising glare caused Eve to shift in her seat, though not from discomfort or uneasiness, rather from inadmissible lust.

As the interview progressed, her eyes continued to occasionally stray toward your hands. Despite how hard she was trying to stay focused, she kept catching herself unintentionally imagining how they'd look gripping her waist, pushing apart her thighs. And if she blocked out this particular fantasy, then her attention would shift to your neck, and how she'd love to bite down on the supple skin presented to her.

She'd hoped that her fling with Amanda and Julian would've suppressed her incorrigible longing for pleasure, yet still found her thighs pressing together as her imagination overpowered reason. All the scandalous scenarios flashing through her mind only grew more vivid, more frequent. An incessant stream of borderline pornographic images, which worsened her guilt as she struggled to focus on what you were saying.

The cool breeze from earlier seemed to have vanished, replaced by unbearable humidity. She could feel herself sweating bucket loads, and only flushed more upon realising that she must've looked a mess; with stray hairs framing her face, an inability to sit still and a layer of perspiration covering her entire body. You'd probably noticed by now.

"God it's been hot recently." You commented, playing with the neckline of your shirt.

Had Eve not been observing you so closely, she would've guessed this was general small-talk. But judging on how you'd acted so far, this was a strategically placed act of mercy, a way of excusing her, no doubt, dishevelled appearance.

"Yeah." Eve chuckled, twirling a strand of hair round her finger. "We could move outside." She suggested, then quickly added. "If you wanted to, that is." Her desperation to please you came as a surprise. The roles should've been reversed. You should've been trying to impress her.

Eve had undeniably lost all authority in the situation, which simply excited her further.

---

When Eve laughed, she scrunched up her face and closed her eyes, which was inconvenient even at the best of times. Right now, however, she'd never despised the quirk quite so much.

As inconsequential as the current circumstances would look to any passer-by, she wanted to commit every detail to memory. From the lingering pink hue of dusk, to the way you threw your head back as you laughed. In fact, she wanted to memorise everything about you. Since leaving behind her stuffy office, conversation had flown easily between the two of you, the matter of employment seemingly dropped in place of getting to know one another. You'd indisputably gotten the job. Eve knew it. You knew it. So both were happy to indulge in a lighter tone of conversation.

The topic had turned to worst first date experiences, so she had very few to share with you, though that didn't stop her from enjoying listening to your little anecdotes.

"What about you?" Taking a calming breath after an outburst of laughter, you paused to ask her the dreaded question.

In comparison to your story, her worst date was relatively tame. "Well." She scratched at the corner of her eye, considering whether she could exaggerate in some way. "I went on a date recently that I had to walk out of."

"Really?" You folded your arms, leaning back against the brick wall. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess it just didn't feel right." She shook her head, hoping to deter any more questioning.

"Fair enough. Sometimes you just know- right?"

Eve drew her eyes away from being locked on the ground, finally summoning the resolve to look directly back at you. She bit her lip, compelling herself to nod.

There was something about you that was pure ecstasy to her. While looking at you, she could feel herself falling deeper into the hypnotic state she'd been in earlier, unable to tear her eyes away and unwilling to try. In spite of the normality of the situation, it felt meaningful. Eve didn't feel so alone, so out of place. Which made no sense to her as she'd known you for barely over an hour.

"What did you do after?" Your voice was somehow deeper, eyes lidded and posture relaxed. "After the date." You clarified.

The inquiry was personal, even without context that could be inferred. Eve hummed, delaying her response long enough to consider how much she was willing to divulge. "I-" She laughed nervously, suddenly embarrassed to confess. "I went swimming."

"Swimming?" Your eyebrows shot up, amused by the many connotations of her vagueness. "Where?"

Eve scuffed the heel of her shoe against the concrete ground, shamefully incapable of returning the eye contact. "Here." She admitted quietly, grinning as if in disbelief that she'd actually done it.

"Wow. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that." You took a deep breath, rendered speechless for a second. "So, you have access to the pool?"

Eve shifted restlessly, hesitant to pursue the topic any further. She knew where this was going, and that she shouldn't endorse this type of behaviour. But the heat wasn't helping, and neither was her overactive imagination. She was supposed to be responsible, but then again, so were you.

Inevitably the possibilities of what could be overpowered her better judgement. "Yes." She reached into her pocket, producing the coveted key ring and hanging it on her pointer finger.

Upon glancing up, she discovered you were watching her intently, indisputable lust reflected in your eyes. Eve found herself in one of those rare moments where she felt understood, on the same wavelength as someone else. The logical part of her brain argued that you were basically a stranger. That if she followed through on your shared idea, then your hiring and subsequent job experience would be forever tainted. But the possibilities were too tempting to ignore.

So when you asked. "Want to go swimming?"

She couldn't refuse.

---

You'd held her hand as she'd lead, the reasoning being that most the facility was shrouded in darkness. Though Eve liked the weight of your hand in hers, so she didn't bother to turn the lights on until reaching the pool. Only then did you separate, crouching down to check the temperature. You beamed with childlike joy as you waved your hand around in the water, skimming the surface then diving deeper down.

Eve grinned. Your pure happiness was infectious, the effect it had on her similar to being drunk. She was intoxicated from exhilaration. She would've been content watching you relish in the feeling of water running through your fingers for eternity, though to her dismay, you soon grew bored. And then to her surprise, you unabashedly began to strip. Her eyes were glued to the expanse of your back as you pulled your shirt over your head, and to the revealed skin as you tugged your trousers down.

She had to stop herself from stumbling back as the strange reality of the situation suddenly dawned on her. Instead, she reacted by comically clutching at her heart, clawing the fabric of her own shirt.

You turned to the side, looking at her out of the corner of your eye. "You coming?"

She chewed on her lip, pondering the two words in greater detail. This was you asking for consent, giving a final warning. You were both aware that this was an incredibly outlandish idea, an extremely irresponsible one that should've discouraged Eve. Yet it had the opposite effect.

Before she could overthink the consequences, her shaking hands were clumsily unbuttoning her blouse. At the unspoken confirmation, you smirked back at her, then without warning, threw yourself into the pool. The splash echoed round the room, proceeded by carefree laughter as you resurfaced and began leisurely swimming away from her. While you were busy, Eve took the chance to continue undressing without interference.

Her insecurities didn't emerge until it was too late, resolved moments later as she dove into the pool. The water was colder than she'd anticipated, but her burning desire dulled the intensity. Breaking through the water's surface, she inhaled deeply, grateful for the supply of oxygen. However, her breath was soon stolen from her as she noticed you were treading water directly in front.

Somehow, you looked even more beautiful now. With the wave's reflections dancing across your skin, your hair drenched and dripping. She wanted to chase after the droplets with her tongue, despite knowing she'd likely be met with the bitter taste of chlorine. But what really flustered Eve was the way you were staring at her; the hunger in your eyes that hinted at your intentions.

Your stillness was teasing her, the water practically stagnant around you both. Eve was becoming increasingly irritated, the heat between her legs only growing. So it didn't take long for her to snap. She lunged forward in an attempt to grab hold of you, though her hands couldn't quite clutch onto your slippery skin. She stumbled to the left, floundering around until you grabbed hold of her.

Upon securing her grip, she froze, due to both the sensation of your body pressed up against hers, and her embarrassment. She couldn't bare to look up, to face her awkward failure. After a beat of silence, she heard you laugh lightly. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant or mocking, but she insisted on keeping her eyes locked on the wall. That was, until your lips gently brushed against her ear.

"Were you trying to kiss me or drown me?"

She snorted, the tension leaving her body, then turned to rest her forehead on your shoulder. "The former. Definitely."

You laughed again. This time Eve joined in, happy to ignore what'd just occurred.

"Want to try that again, then?" You kissed just behind her ear, causing a shiver to suffuse across Eve's body. She waited a minute, expecting more before realising you intended for her to make the next move.

She glanced up at your face, fixating on your lips. You were so close. All she had to do was lean forward ever so slightly. One final glance to your lidded eyes confirmed you wanted the same- all she had to do was close the distance.

Taking a shaky breath, Eve shifted a hand up to cup your cheek, her thumb softly stroking your skin. There was no rush; you both wanted the same thing and were eager to revel in the experience. So, when her lips finally grazed against yours, there was no deep sigh or sudden change in pace, rather a blooming warmth in her chest. She was floating, both literally and metaphorically in a sea affection.

She kissed you again, this time with more conviction. Then fell backwards, her feet now comfortably resting on the bottom of the pool, her back hitting the wall as your grip on her waist tightened. You dragged a hand across her chest, causing her to gasp. Your touch was scolding compared to the cool water. A perfect balance between lustful heat and a mind-numbing, all-encompassing chill.

She raised her arms, flinging them around you and exhaling as her impatience reappeared. Though thankfully, you didn't make her wait long. Soon enough, your mouth had latched onto her neck, leaving messy kisses from behind her ear, to down by her shoulders. The feeling was pure bliss, encouraging her to lean into you and press your bodies closer together.

She didn't need to say anything. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Like you had her body memorised: every caress was perfectly placed, each touch just what she needed. It didn't take long for Eve to reach her pleasure, although she did spend a while in a dazed state of satisfaction, simply drifting in your arms. Eventually, she regained awareness to feel you tenderly nibbling on her lower lip, and eagerly reciprocated the kiss.

Motivated by the sudden fervour, she switched the positions, pushing you up to the wall.

"Get on the ledge." Eve murmured against your lips. She looped her arms under your thighs, ready to lift once you'd agreed.

Surprised by her abrupt confidence, you quirked an eyebrow, but obeyed nonetheless.

With you sat before her, she knew the evening was only just beginning, and judging by your breathless expression you felt exactly the same. This was one of those rare moments where Eve felt completely understood.

[drabbles-mc]

Burnt

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager)

Inspired by Day 16 of the July Prompts: sunscreen

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Me? Back at it again with another slice of life fic? It’s more likely than you think! In my head this takes place on the same day as my other SOA Beach Day fic Say Cheese but the stories exist separately from one another. Also, if you’re interested in this pairing you can check out these fics: X X

SOA Taglist: @garbinge​ @masterlistforimagines​ @adela-topaz-caelon​ @chibsytelford​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @jitterbugs927​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)

“Dad,” she aggressively shoved the bottle of sunscreen into his hand, “Dad just put it on.”

“No,” Tig tossed it over onto the towel, “I’m not putting that on. I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”

Rolling her eyes, she picked the bottle back up. She squeezed a generous amount onto her hand and then proceeded to slap it onto his chest, “You’re tough but you’re not tougher than the fucking sun. Get over yourself.”

He groaned as he looked down at the mess of lotion that was on him now, “You fucking kidding me, T?”

“Nope,” she shook her head as she rubbed some into her own arms and legs.

Once she was done, she looked around to see who else was close. She loved all the boys in the club, but she would be the first to tell them all when they were being idiots. She was adamant about the whole sunscreen thing ever since they all decided to do a beach day together. The guys had given her shit about it at first, wondering when she became so concerned with those kinds of things, but when it came down to it the last thing they wanted was the pain that came from serious sunburn. So, most of them silently put some on, refusing to make eye contact with each other and acknowledge the situation.

“Kozik!” she called over to the man who was laying out towels for each of them.

His head whipped up, instantly looking over at her, “Yea?”

“You got some on?” she waved the bottle in his direction.

“Let him get burned,” Tig mumbled under his breath as he wiped away the last of the lotion that his daughter had caught him with.

Tawnie ignored the comment, shaking her head slightly as she waited for Kozik’s answer. He made his way over to her, reassuring her that, yes, he had put some on the second they got to the beach. He knew that there was no way she was going to let him get away with anything else, and she was the last person that he wanted to be pissing off.

“Can you get my back?” she asked as she handed him the bottle, pulling her hair out of the way.

“Um,” he could feel Tig’s eyes boring into him, “sure.”

Kozik silently prayed to whatever gods there were that Tig wasn’t going to pick him up and drown him in the ocean. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but he also wondered if that would make things worse. And she must’ve sense the tension, too, because she glanced back over her shoulder and looked at her father, eyebrows raised.

“You want him to get your back too, Dad?” she asked.

Kozik’s entire body froze up as he waited for the fallout. Surprisingly enough, Tig just sighed and shook his head before turning and walking down towards the water, “Those hands go below her shoulders and you’re a fucking dead man, Kozik.”

She chuckled quietly as he finished applying the sunscreen, “He’s full of it. You know that, right?”

“You sound pretty confident but I’m not so sure,” he chuckled as he closed the bottle and tossed it back into her bag.

“If he was going to kill you, he totally would have done it already.”

“That’s…that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

She laughed as she pressed her palms flat against his chest and pressed a light kiss to his lips, “Just relax. Who knows when we’re going to be able to all have a fun day together.”

“And what are you going to spend your fun day doing? Besides assaulting people with sunblock?”

She gave him a playful shove, “Shut up. I’m gonna go fucking swimming, duh. I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” she paused, tilting her head slightly, “What’re you gonna do?”

“Watch you swim,” a smirk crept across his face.

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. It’d been an interesting, and slightly bumpy, road for the two of them to get to where they were at now. But she was happy about it, about him. And despite the constant pushback from her father, there was a certain type of ease and comfort that came from being with him. She knew that she wouldn’t have ever been able to be with someone who didn’t understand the type of life she lived, and no one understood it better than a man who was actually SAMCRO. But as she stood there looking at him, smiling with a few streaks of sunscreen still on his cheeks, he was more than just a guy from the MC. She never knew what it felt like to date someone who was your best friend until then.

She snapped herself out of her sappy thoughts with a shake of her head, “Don’t let my dad catch you leering.”

“I thought you said he was full of it?”

“I mean,” she laughed as she skipped off towards the water, “nothing is a hundred percent.”

He shook his head and watched her as she took off to go swim and cause whatever kinds of trouble she could manage to stir up along the way. Being with a Trager was a lot of things, but it was certainly never boring.

The afternoon sun was beating down on all of them. Most of them had found their way back to their chairs and towels and started digging into the food and drinks that they had brought with them. Tawnie was camped out on her towel, watching the volleyball game that was happening. Her father and Opie were pitted against Jax and Kozik, and to all of their credit it was shaping up to be a pretty competitive game. But she did notice the fact that Tig’s shoulders were getting redder and redder as the minutes went by—clearly he hadn’t put any extra sunscreen on except what she had forced on him. She shook her head silently, a smug smile creeping across her face. He’d have to learn the hard way, the way that he did with most things.

“Game point!” she called out before taking a sip of her beer.

“Better win this one for your girl, Kozik,” Jax quipped with a laugh.

She chuckled but she could see it on her father’s face that he was not at all amused by the comment. He dove, saving the ball from hitting the sand. There was now a new level of determination and desire to win. He never wanted Kozik to win at anything, but now there was an extra layer on top of it all.

The four of them were going back and forth for a while. Tawnie sat back, unable to hide the fact that she was incredibly impressed by them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Kozik jump up, spiking the ball down onto the other side of the net with an incredible amount of force. She couldn’t contain her laughter as she started clapping.

“Way to bring it home!” she beamed over at him.

“Lucky shot,” Tig said, already shaking his head.

Despite the tension that had been present during the game, once it was over everything went back to business as usual, which Tawnie was incredibly thankful for.

Tig was walking ahead, talking to Jax and Opie while she hung back with Kozik. She slipped her hand into his as they walked, smiles on both of their faces.

“You think it’s alright that I didn’t let him win?” he asked with a smirk.

She laughed, nodding, “It’s good for him. I’m thinking of it as karma for not using sunblock.”

“I think the blisters that are gonna be on his shoulders tomorrow will be karma enough.”

“Maybe,” she laughed, leaning against his side.

He glanced down at her, admiring her still-damp hair and the little patches of sand that were still stuck to parts of her stomach and arms. She looked so at home at the beach, and he had never felt more at home than when he felt her pressed up against his side.

“We should do this shit more often,” he said as they walked along the shore, waves lapping at their feet.

“Yea, well,” she chuckled, “When you guys take a break from your life of crime, we can do big family beach days whenever you want.”

“I’ll bring it up in church next time.”

She laughed, “Well,” she lifted their interlocked hands and kissed his knuckles, “you gotta let me know how that conversation goes.”

“If I live through it, you’ll be the first to know,” he smiled as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

The sound of Tig’s voice cut through the softness of their moment, “Hey! I said no hands below the shoulders!”

[hypmicdaydreams]

Hey! can i order headcanons for Gentaro, Jyushi and Hifumi going to the cinema to see a scary movie with their S/Oc please? Have a good night, love your blog <3

(sorry for any error, i'm using google translator)

Ah man, I can not for the life of me watch a scary movie. They terrify me too much haha. But this was very cute to write! Thank you sm for the request anon, and I hope you enjoy 💕 (and dw, there weren't any errors!)

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗼, 𝗛𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗺𝗶, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗝𝘆𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘀/𝗼

-pairings: gentaro yumeno x gn!reader, hifumi izanami x gn!reader, jyushi aimono x gn!reader

-genre: fluff

Gentaro

he wasn’t one to really be frightened by a horror movie as it was nothing more than a story to him, so he found a much deeper appreciation for the storytelling

if a horror movie managed to give him chills or goosebumps (which wasn’t often as of late), then gentaro considered it a success. it must’ve been a rather good watch if he wasn’t able to predict what would happen next or if it managed to catch him off-guard

he adored a good and rather chilling horror movie as much as the next person; unfortunately, however, gentaro found the majority of the more recent horror movies to be nothing but, well, terrible, so it wasn’t his favorite genre

the cheap jump scares or ominous music had no effect on him, and the shallow plot and terrible writing was borderline offensive in his mind. gentaro, more than anyone else, loved a fantastical story with a good plot and stellar writing, and the more recent horror movies were far from that

so when you suggest that the two of you go to the theaters in order to watch the latest horror movie that caught your eye, gentaro is a bit hesitant at first and isn’t expecting much from it

but seeing how you looked quite excited at the prospect of seeing a movie together with him, gentaro agreed to it. this should, at the very least, be fun considering that you’d be with him

when the movie starts, gentaro is watching with an uninterested gaze, already able to tell where this would go, if it was a cliché one or not. and if it was the former, well, he practically zoned out during the movie or tried to rewrite the scenes to make it more interesting

(gentaro never could focus on anything for too long if it wasn’t something he liked)

if you easily got scared by horror movies or if this movie in particular was making you quite frightened, gentaro would catch on to that and discreetly hold your hand in attempt to comfort you throughout, perhaps even throw a funny comment here and there about the terrible quality of it in hopes that’d help (and it lowkey did)

after the movie, you’d be talking about what you thought of the movie, saying how the jump scares took you by surprise and how it took forever to calm your racing heart. when you turn and ask gentaro for his input, he simply shrugs and says that it definitely could’ve better

i feel like he could go off on a whole tangent on how the writing was a bit bland, the characters too two-dimensional, how the horror aspect was clearly lacking. honestly, you’re impressed that he could pick up on all that, though you couldn’t help but tell yourself that it was to be expected

gentaro hated nothing more than a bad story, especially one where it was clear there was absolutely no effort put into it; and as an author himself, it felt somewhat of a personal attack

he never really did talk much, so you’d be surprised if he does start to criticize each aspect of it. though if you were left feeling slightly shaken up by the movie, then it’d help ease you up really. it was sort of a reminder that it wasn’t real

even then, if you had trouble sleeping later that night, gentaro would have no problem reassuring you that he was there and perhaps even tell a story or two of his own

Hifumi

i like to think that he isn’t one that gets scared by horror movies at first glance, instead finding them to be sorta exciting. the jump scares, however cheap, were always thrilling and got his heart racing, in a good way he liked to think

but as night falls, hifumi surely gets a tiny bit frightened as he recalled the events of the movie from a few hours ago. all of a sudden, his slightly open bedroom door and the stillness of the night was just too eerie

still though, horror movies were a guilty pleasure for him, even if they did terrify him a bit afterwards. they were simply too much fun. so when you brought up the idea of going to see a horror movie, hifumi jumped at the prospect of it

he was rather excited, more so at the fact that you guys were going out on a date, and hifumi even suggests the two of you watch it at night in order to heighten the atmosphere and leave more of an impact (a suggestion he may come soon to regret)

hifumi is, well, rather emotive; so throughout the movie, if there was anything that took him by surprise, you could easily tell from the way he slightly jumped or the small, quiet yelps of his that he couldn’t hold back

even then, however, it doesn’t seem to faze him all that much; rather, he seems a bit excited? as if the racing feeling of his heart was way too thrilling

for some reason, i could see hifumi being the type to comment on things during the movie as well, such as mentioning how that particular jump scare took him by surprise or how this scene was giving him goosebumps

it’s not that he’s talkative, but instead, he simply liked to point things out to you

if at any point you were ever starting to feel terrified during the movie, he’d be able to tell and hold your hand for reassurance, maybe even ask with a worried glance whether you wanted to step out or not. hifumi understood that horror movies weren’t for everyone and could make some feel uncomfortable (he’s literally the sweetest, i live by that)

you’d have to reassure him many times that you were fine

regardless of whether or not the movie was bad, hifumi would enjoy it either way. for one, having the experience of watching it on the big screen with you was really what made it special. secondly, it was fun either way

as you guys walk out of the theater, hifumi is talking on and on about the movie and how scary it was, even if it wasn’t that frightening. as aforementioned, he’s quite emotive, so hifumi basically describes how he was feeling throughout the entirety of the movie

and if you admit that you also felt somewhat scared from it, he’d totally agree but then go on to tell you how none of it was real either way, so it was more exciting than anything

despite that, you may find him to be somewhat more antsy at the tiniest noises or find him holding you just a bit tighter when you guys go to bed later that night

Jyushi

needless to say, he and horror movies did not mesh well together, if, at all. just the concept or synopsis of said movies were enough to send a chill down his spine as jyushi couldn’t help but imagine the endless gruesome scenarios that could take place

and at night, well, jyushi could barely sleep without some sort of comfort such as amanda or you since the only thing on his mind was the movie and a multitude intrusive thoughts, not able to help but imagine what’d happen if he or you was ever thrust upon such a scenario (no matter how unrealistic it was)

so jyushi is veryyy reluctant at first to accept your offer to go watch a horror movie at the cinema, especially if it was playing at night. he could barely get through them in the midst of the day; how’d he even fare at night when he could barely see a thing?

but when he saw just how excited you seemed to be about it, especially since you were going to see the long awaited horror movie with your boyfriend, jyushi sorta gave in

besides, he told himself over and over again that it was simply another obstacle for him to grow stronger, a part of his training in a way. it did help ease him somewhat

still though, when you guys finally do go to the cinema, jyushi makes sure that he has amanda with him as well, knowing that he’d need it by the end

when the movie starts, jyushi is pretty much trembling slightly, terrified at what could happen, so you’d have to hold his hand and give him a reassuring smile, telling him that if it was too much, then you guys could leave

this does comfort him, however, and jyushi decides to tough it out and watch it through (honestly, even if you were scared by the movie, jyushi was more so than you)

all throughout the movie, jyushi does have a hard time directly staring at the screen, always shielding his eyes with his hands or closing them each time there was a jump scare of sorts

he was also quite emotive, so each time jyushi saw something frightening, he’d let out a small yelp of sorts, maybe even jump a bit if it really did take him by surprise. it was just a bit too much for him

holds your hand through it all, for good measure, and has amanda close by at all times

at the end of the movie, when you guys walk out of the theater, jyushi is more than thrilled that it’s finally over with, though he did have to admit that it was somewhat fun

when you ask him what he thought about it, despite the fact that jyushi’s emotions are as clear as day given how pale he looked, he’d break out into his v-kei persona and try to put up a front and say that it wasn’t scary in the slightest, if only to impress you, and save for his trembling voice

of course, you can easily see through it, though you may decide to let him have it and tease him by saying how brave he was, much braver than you who got frightened by it (and he certainly grows flustered by this)

afterwards, as the two of you are going to bed, jyushi cuddles you immensely, holding you close and tight given how the movie left him quite shaken up. he may even leave the hallway light on as to provide ample light to ward off the darkness a bit

you might even stroke his hair or give him a little forehead kiss to help calm him, which certainly does do its job. honestly, being wrapped up in each other’s embrace did help ease both of your fears

[bts-hyperfixation]

Noona - kinktober - day 17

Jungkook Noona kink + overstimulation

The minute Jungkook walks into the room you go quiet. You and Joon had been sat on barstools at the kitchen island talking about the disappointing sex you’d had on your date the night before. If any of the other boys had walked into the room you probably would have continued the conversation. Probably would have dragged them into it with you. Not Jungkook though, never Jungkook. In your head, he was your innocent little bunny, despite only having a small age gap. It didn’t matter, part of you still saw him as the maknae from 2013.

Nothing annoyed Jungkook more.

What had started as a small crush, had slowly manifested into a slow obsession within Jungkook. It wasn’t so bad that he was stalking you or anything awful. He just made a point of sitting next to you at every opportunity, laying on you when drunk, holding your hand when walking somewhere. You just found it endearing, he was your little puppy. It was cute. You never really thought that much about it, so the thought had never crossed your mind. The band had certainly noticed. Which is why, as you quieted, Joon thought it’d be funnier to amp up the volume

“So he was really shit in bed huh?” he questioned, just loud enough to prick JK’s ears. You hit him playfully, warning him to shut up. “It sounds like you just need someone to get you well and truly off Y/N” he shoots a meaningful look at his friend prompting you to hit him again.

“Don’t talk like that with Kookie in the room” you scold as you pull the younger man close to you, covering his ears.

“Noona” he whines “I’m not a child” you giggle as his pout suggests otherwise. He removes your hands from his ears and places them in your lap before hugging you from behind making sure your arms were secure so you couldn’t handicap him again.

“Yeah Y/N he is all grown up now, look at him, the boy is a tank these days” Namjoon jokes. It's true, puberty has been kind to the boy, filling him out well. It’s just not something you’d paid attention to. You feel JK flex around you as if to make a point and you giggle.

“Namjoon-ah!” A shout comes from somewhere else in the dorm “Jimin stole my dumplings!” Jin’s voice echo’s through the halls

“Did not!” Jimin shouts in reply. Namjoon shakes his head but gets up to check on them anyway. He pats your leg and winks at Jungkook before leaving the kitchen. Jungkook takes the opportunity and moves into the newly vacated seat at the breakfast bar.

“You can talk to me about that sort of stuff too you know?” he places his hand meaningfully on your leg before his eyes lock with yours. Namjoon’s right, he really has grown into himself in the last few years. You blink a few times to clear your head and push his hand away.

“Oh Kookie you know that I can’t” you try to laugh it off but his serious expression doesn’t change.

“Why not?” the question drips with sincerity. Yeah, why not? It’s not something you ever thought to analyse, it has just always been that way to you. While you are thinking of the best way to answer his hand sneaks back onto your leg, this time venturing up your thigh. The fact that he is refusing to break eye contact has doubt creeping into your mind.

“I...I don’t know, you’re just my baby Kookie that’s all I’ve ever thought about it” your answer is disappointing but he takes comfort in the fact that this time you haven’t moved his hand away.

“Well, maybe it’s time you did think about it Noona” he stands and positions himself between your legs, his spare hand finding its way to your cheek forcing you to return his gaze. His stare is intense, and you lose your train of thought. You’d never noticed how deep his eyes were. Before you can really make sense of what’s happening his lips are on yours. Soft but desperate.

“Jungkook… we shouldn’t” the kiss has left you a little breathless, but you try to keep your head straight. This was your bunny, your innocent Kookie. So why all of a sudden was the idea of his lips all over you sounding like such a good idea?

“Please… let me prove myself. Let me show you I’m all grown up now” he nuzzles into your neck, pressing small kisses into the sensitive flesh. You half-heartedly push at him, trying to regain your composure. He stands his ground, moving to nibble at your earlobe.

“I could make you feel amazing Y/N, I could have you cumming for days. I’ll make your legs shake if you just let me” the low growl that leaves his mouth shocks you enough for you to pull away. You stare at him in disbelief. He had never spoken like that in front of you. The other boys had been telling you for months that he was the filthiest of all of them, but you wouldn’t believe them. Every time they went into grotesque detail about one of their latest conquests, you’d scold them and tell them to be more like Jungkook, take the 'kiss and not tell' approach. Of course, they’d laugh and try to convince you otherwise.

“Come on Y/N what have you got to lose? Let me do this for you… let me feel your release drip down my fingers, let me taste every inch of you, let me drive you crazy.” You could feel your panties sticking to your core at this point, the boy was relentless you’d give him that. You stand and walk away from him. His face falls. He is about to admit defeat before he sees where you're actually headed… his bedroom.

“Maybe it’s time I see you for the man you’ve become,” you say, slipping into his room. He is on you so fast you’ve barely had time to take in his room. It’s a lot cleaner than you thought it’d be. The odd comic or item of clothing is strewn on the floor, but the bed is made. Well, it was made until he had thrown you onto it moments ago. Jungkook was straddled over you, pining you as he kissed you with more passion than you thought possible. He must’ve thrown his shirt off as he walked through the door as you find your hands running along his naked skin. He shivers under your touch. He manages to find enough restraint to drag himself away from your lips long enough to help you take your shirt off. He takes the opportunity to lick a stripe from your belly button to your bra before removing that too. He returns to kissing you like you are his only source of oxygen, one hand on the back of your neck, the other playing with the sensitive skin of your right nipple.

“Can… I… move down?” He asks in between small pecks along your chin. You nod and he wastes no time undoing your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one fluid movement. You close your legs, suddenly very aware of who is between your legs. He chuckles at your suddenly shy demeanour and pries your thighs apart, filling the new gap with his head. He tentatively licks up your slit. His eyes go wide as if has only just realised what he is doing. You are about to ask him he wants to stop when he starts lapping at your folds like a man starved.

The knot in your stomach builds much quicker than you anticipated as the eager boy sucks on your clit. He slips a finger into your dripping pussy and curls it with such precision that he hits your sweet spot instantly. Your moans only spur him on as they get needier. The minute he adds a second finger it's over. Your walls clench and he drags his fingers out, only to replace them with his tongue trying to catch every drop. You expect him to stop here, move onto his own pleasure or stop entirely, he proved his point. It was one of the best orgasms you’d had in a while. As soon as you come down, his movements resume. This time his fingers are rubbing at your clit furiously while his tongue fucks into you.

“Kookiiie” you whine feeling a little too sensitive. You’re not really sure what your whining for... for him to stop? Or for him to go faster? He takes the latter option moving his fingers to join his tongue leaving his thumb to take care of your bundle of nerves. You wriggle as the feeling teeters between pleasure and pain. The hand he’d been using to hold up your thigh moves to keep your stomach pressed down, forcing you to endure this sweet torture.

“Noona” his voice sends vibrations through your core, only adding to the sensation “can you come for me again?” the dark tone in his voice has you so close to unravelling, just waiting to dive off the cliff. “Come on Noona, show me what you’ve got left” this orgasm hits just as hard as the last. Your legs shake, body completely unprepared for the newest wave of arousal that JK once again licks at happily. His head comes back up so it's level with yours, but his hand keeps playing with your clit. Your whines are breathy and small from the overstimulation. He watches you, loving the way he makes your face contort just using his hand.

“Ah... Kook...” the sound of his name tumbling for your lips makes his already painfully hard dick twitch in his pants. You're desperate to reach out and help him but his spare hand pushes you away whenever you try. His ministrations on the small bundle of nerves had your orgasm building again sooner than you would’ve liked. Your body hadn’t recovered from the other two. This one would leave you just a quivering puddle. You start to protest as the knot tightens but he covers your mouth with his, letting you taste yourself on him. Preventing you from stopping the overstimulation. You lose yourself in his embrace and let yourself come undone again. After this one, he finally gives you some relief bringing his hand away and licking the remaining juices off. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them away. He moves so he is hovering over you, lined up at the right angle to enter you. His long hair falls in his eyes as he looks at you for approval to continue. You nod in approval and he pushes himself all the way in before giving you a couple of seconds to adjust.

His thrusts are as brutal as his fingers had been. You feel so full that you think he could split you at any minute. You don’t stop him though. The stretch felt amazing. It doesn’t last too long before he pulls out, finishing on your stomach. He finds a towel somewhere in the room and wipes his sperm away. You’re still shaking when he sits back on the bed. He chuckles and pulls you into his lap holding you close.

“Are you okay Noona?” he asks a little worried he might’ve gone too far. You nod sleepily and curl further into him.

“Never been better” he can’t help smiling with pride at your words.

Kinktober

Masterlist

Taglist

@adventuresinwonderlust @samros95 @thedarkwinterrose

[laviefantasie]

Not A Fan | Luke Patterson

Mini Series

Pairings: Alive!Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader

Summary: What happens if Sunset Curve loses their sound after their bandmate’s betrayal? Will a certain shy songwriter be able to help Luke Patterson, known narcissistic rockstar, find his inspiration before Sunset Curve’s new demo is due?

| MASTERLIST |

| PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE |

Loud screams were heard from the band’s rehearsal studios as the staff of the recording label tried to get the door opened without success. A loud crash was heard followed by an angry grunt, making the security staff break the door’s handle to open it.

The sight that greeted them was an angry-looking Luke Patterson beating the crap out of Bobby Wilson, Sunset Curve’s rhythm guitarist, while Alex Mercer and Reggie Peters tried to pull them away from one another.

To say everyone was confused was an understatement.

The security staff snapping out of their confusion to run to pull apart the bandmates, although the brunette didn’t seem willing to stop punching the dark-haired boy.

“It’s done, Luke!” screams Bobby once he is set free, “There’s nothing any of you can do! It’s over! They’re my songs now!”

With an angry grunt, Luke tries to set himself free from the guards’ hold making Bobby run out of the door.

Alex and Reggie staring at the way he left with hurt in their eyes. Bobby Wilson had stolen Luke’s songs, the ones that hadn’t yet been recorded by Sunset Curve, and gone off to Convington’s Records.

He had stolen all of Luke’s feelings and the band’s hard work to make a name for himself, not caring about the many years of brotherhood he was throwing away. 

“Wha...What do we do now?” Reggie questions softly.

The songwriter lets out an angry scream as soon as the guards let him go, pacing around the room with many emotions running through his body. Betrayal being the one that stands out the most.

“I’ll... I’ll just write new songs” Luke states, “Better songs. Ye-yeah, I’ll write better songs”

The other two boys look at one another with uncertainty, both knowing this cut them all deeply in different ways. Especially, since they considered each other family after everything that had happened with their own.

Meanwhile in Los Angeles, Y/N was walking through the halls of Los Feliz High School with Julie Molina by her side. Since the loss of both of your mothers, you both had lost interest in music. Julie being able to reconnect with her love for it through her mother’s former band demos. You didn’t have the same luck as your dad wasn’t truly supportive of it.

Meanwhile, you continued to avoid playing an instrument or even singing softly in the car. It just didn’t feel right anymore, not without her. Though that didn’t stop you from writing songs, although you always said they were just poems.

Poems that helped you expressed everything you felt without actually having to say it.

The curly-haired girl was trying to convince her best friend to sing at Mrs. Harrison’s music class, afraid the girl was going to lose her spot on the music program for refusing to even play an instrument.

Either way, Y/N didn’t care.

You were ready to be kicked out of the program so your friends could stop trying to push you to sing. You couldn’t do it, you had tried. 

“Y/N/N” calls Julie softly as you open your locker, “I know it’s hard, but you have to sing today. Mrs. Harrison was very patient with the both of us but I don’t think she can wait much longer”

Before you can asnwer the Molina, Flynn appears on the curly girl’s side with a big smile on her face, eyes shining brightly as she shows you both what she had opened on her phone.

The Band is Back!

Los Angeles’ very own Sunset Curve comes back! Rumor has it the band is coming home to reunite with their roots in hopes of inspiration for their new album.

We all know that after Trevor Wilson, a.k.a Bobby, left the band our favorite boys fell off the radar, but now they’re back and they’re coming home! 

We certainly cannot wait to see what they have in store for us.

Julie smiles excitedly over the article the braided-girl shows them while you simply roll your eyes. Sunset Curve was everyone’s favorite band of the moment, the eighteen-year-olds being revolutionaries with their rock music and 90′s looks. 

Even better, they were old students of Los Feliz High School. Their music was good, but honestly, Y/N didn’t see what made them so captivating other than that. 

So as Julie and Flynn gushed about the returning superstars, Y/N concentrating on getting the books she would need out of her locker. Her e/c eyes falling on her dark blue songbook at the end of her locker, hesitating you shake your head before closing your locker. 

You didn’t need that anymore, no need to torture yourself by having it near you.

Reggie and Alex kept their eyes on Luke as the boy once again ripped a page out of his songbook in anger. Right now they were on their tour bus on their way back home, hoping that being back where it all started helped their brunette songwriter finally come up with something.

So far, the lead guitarist hadn’t been able to even write a single verse. Somehow, Bobby’s betrayal had messed him up in more ways than he had realized, making it hard for him to write something.

“UGH”

Luke throws his black songbook across the bus, almost hitting Reggie in the head. The bass player looks at his best friend with disbelief.

“Sorry, Regg”

Both bandmates look at the boy in worry as he goes to grab his songbook, neither knowing how to help him. Bobby had crossed the line when messing up with the brunette’s songs, if there was something that was very intimate for the Patterson boy it was his songs.

It had been a low blow from Bobby.

Before Alex can open his mouth to try and make his best friend feel better, Reggie’s eyes catch sight of a place he had missed after they had left two years ago to follow their dreams as sixteen-years-old against their parents’ approval.

“Guys!” He calls getting closer to the window “It’s Los Feliz!”

Both missing members run to Reggie’s side to look at the place where they had fallen in love with music for the first time and where they had met one another. The sight bringing smiles to their faces.

Before anyone can say something else, Luke is already screaming at the driver to stop.

“Let’s go say hello, boys”

You were skipping your last class before the music program, deciding you needed the time to decide what you were going to do. Were you actually ready to finally give up music completely?

With a sigh, Y/N opens her locker to grab her dark blue songbook. Staring at it with a troubled look, so concentrated in making up your mind that you don’t notice the three teenage boys that are running your way with their eyes set on one another.

It is not until you fall to the floor with a loud thud that you realize you had been walking while staring at your songbook, proving once again that not watching where you go is never a good idea.

“Oh shi- Are you okay?”

You look towards the voice finding yourself staring at bright green eyes, in confusion you look towards the other two boys behind him recognition flashing across your eyes as you’re reminded of the article Flynn showed you that morning.

You’re about to open your mouth to say you’re fine, but the brunette that’s kneeling beside you covers your mouth in a fast move.

“Please don’t scream!”

You frown with disbelief before biting his hand, making him take his hand off his mouth while letting out a grunt of pain.

“First of all, it’s not polite to cover a stranger’s mouth” you snap before standing up, “Second, I wasn’t going to scream. As unlikely as it is, I’m not a fan, all I was gonna say is that I was fine”

Luke stands up with a frown on his face, looking towards his best friends in confusion before turning to look at you once more.

“Not a fan?” He asks with disbelief, “We’re Sunset Curve”

“Tell your friends” Adds the one with the leather jacket.

You roll your eyes, “I know who you are, my best friends love you”

Luke lets out a scoff before pouting at you, Alex trying -and failing- to keep a smile off his face at Luke’s obvious tantrum over you not being a fan of the band. 

Reggie giving the teenage girl his own pout as he realizes the same thing. Alex being the only one who finds the situation amusing.

With a sigh, the h/c girl looks at her things on the floor rushing to grab them. Making sure to throw her songbook inside her backpack before looking towards the band once again.

“Thank you for the fall” you smile sarcastically towards the brunette boy, “Hope to not see you again, boy band”

You continue your way towards the library hoping to catch some sleep before having to go to the music program, ignoring the looks you’re giving by the boys.

“WHO YOU CALLING BOY BAND, SHORTY?”

You roll your eyes as you hear the band’s lead singer scream after you before you disappear from their view.

Luke scoffs at your disappearing figure muttering angrily under his breath about the fact you were not a fan, kneeling to grab his own songbook that fell during the fall only to find a dark blue one instead of her black one.

Staring at it in confusion, the songwriter turns to his friends before realizing you must’ve taken his own songbook by accident. He’s about to run to try to catch up with you when curiosity gains the best of him.

Opening the blue songbook, his green eyes catch sight of an interesting title: Finally Free. Reading through it he cannot help the smile that grows on his face, Alex and Reggie soon appearing by his side as soon as they see their best friend’s eyes shined brightly in a way they hadn’t shined since Bobby’s betrayal.

The three read the lyrics with disbelief. The song was absolute killer, with the right melody they were sure it could be a hit. Maybe, just maybe, he could help you finish it.

But how could he find you again?

[wakeup-wakeup-if-its-all-you-do]

I was trying to imagine what Deku v. Kacchan part 3 would be like and it quickly turned into a whole fic lol! Anyways here it is...

A Hero Distracted

(now on ao3 by pearl_sailboat)

word count: 2,641

tags: manga spoilers, izuku midoriya / katsuki bakugou, angst with happy ending, vigilante deku, deku is going through it, soft bakugou, cursing

summary: takes place right after Deku leaves All-Might and the bento. But he doesn't know that Kacchan will bring him back one way or another.

Deku zipped through the sky, using blackwhip to propel himself forward, so he could put as much distance between himself and his mentor. He didn't look back, he couldn't look back. Whatever scene he'd left behind had to stay behind or else he might lose his nerve and go back to the teacher, the father-figure, who had already given him so much. Deku would not let All-Might give his life too. End of discussion.

He could actually feel the anxiety rolling off the vestiges as they watched him fly across the skyline. They were silent, probably still trying to figure out how to tell him to go back. But it didn't matter what they would eventually say, nothing was going to change Deku's mind. Nothing. 

Deku was so distracted by his resolve to keep moving forward that he didn't notice the three figures floating ahead until they'd launched themselves at him. It didn't matter though, he was no longer the helpless kid he used to be. He'd left behind everyone in his life and that meant that the only one in danger was him. Yes, he thought as blackwhip shot out of him in all directions, let me be the only one who gets hurt. Let me take all the damage, let everyone else stay safe. 

The thought was so all-consuming that his landing was a little rough and he flinched a tiny bit when his legs absorbed the shock. But smooth landings were at the bottom of Deku's priorities… right now he had to incapacitate these three so he could keep moving. He turned to look at his attackers, still entrapped in blackwhip, but… they were already knocked out? And when did they get so many cuts and bruises? Had they been this badly beat up when they first attacked him? Hmpf, maybe they fought over who would get to take me in… Guess there must be a pretty great reward but, still, it's odd…

Before he could finish his thought, he felt a searing pain against the side of his face and the explosion made his ears ring. Dammit, what now? He shot out blackwhip in all directions but before he could even get up, he felt a boot kick him in the shoulder. Hard.

"ARGHHHH," he cried as he moved to grab the leg attached to the boot.

He still couldn't see his new attacker but dammit, it had been a really long day and he was starting to get mad. His hand latched on to the leg and he was about to send his attacker flying over his shoulder when he felt another boot smash down on his wrist. This time he yelled so loud it almost drowned out the sound of his wrist breaking. Who was this person? They were certainly more skilled than the last three...

"You done, nerd? Or am I gonna have to break your legs too?"

That voice… I know that voice… But why? Why is he here? He can't be here… He's still h-

"Dammit, ANSWER ME DEKU!!!" Kacchan yelled behind him as more explosions went off, but this time not aimed at him.

Deku still felt like his wrist was on fire but he made himself get up. He turned around to find Kacchan smiling maniacally, suited up in his hero uniform. No, he's still hurt! He can't be out here! Why did he… oh. All-Might must've sent him. How could he? When he knows-

"Shitty Deku, you never listen, do you? Do. I. Have. To. Break. Your. Legs. Too?" Kacchan said with a small explosion to emphasize each period.

That's when Deku attacked. He didn't want to hurt Kacchan but he knew that the angry blond would never let him go. For some reason, Kacchan had decided that it was his job to protect Deku even if it cost him his own life. Idiot, he thought, not for some reason. He did it because he had too; you were weak so he had to protect you so that All For One wouldn't take the power of One For All. This is your fault. That's why he had to be strong now. That's why he didn't hesitate to connect his fist to Kacchan's face. That's why he didn't hesitate to grab Kacchan's shirt and send him fly- BOOOOM!!!! DAMMIT, how can he still attack when I'm literally throwing him?!?! And the explosion hurt. so. damn. much. Somehow, Kacchan kept firing even when he slammed into the roof's exit door, using his AP shot to blast Deku in the stomach. 

"Is that ALL YOU GOT DEKU??? DON'T TELL ME I CAME ALL THIS WAY FOR YOU TO GO EASY ON ME???" Kacchan cackled. 

He was seriously laughing at a time like this? Deku shook his head, he couldn't afford to get distracted by the Kacchan of it all. He shot out blackwhip again, but Kacchan dodged just like he always had.

"SERIOUSLY, YOU THOUGHT THAT WOULD WORK??? YOU'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO CATCH ME, NERD!!!" 

Was Kacchan actually… enjoying himself?!?!? Deku wasn't surprised that Kacchan would brag about always winning Catch-a-Kacchan but those memories seemed so far away… No, stop getting distrac- BOOOOMMM!!!!! Kacchan had blasted him again, Deku needed to get his act together and quickly! He took a deep breath and just as he felt Danger Sense activate, he dodged Kacchan's next explosion and launched himself forward. He grabbed Kacchan's hair and yanked him downwards so he couldn't fire. Deku was about to kick him when he felt a pain in his legs. Kacchan hadn't been able to fire at Deku's face so he'd fired at his legs instead! Nothing seemed to be broken yet but, god it really, really hurt.

"HAHA I TOLD YA I WOULD BREAK YOUR LEGS TOO DEK-" Kacchan didn't get to finish that sentence because Deku sucker punched him so hard he went flying into the closest building.

Kacchan coughed up some blood before grinning wide, "NOW WE'RE TALKING!!! OHHHHHH BUT I'M STILL GONNA KICK YOUR ASS NERD!!!!!"

But Deku was frozen. No… No, no, no, no, no, no… I - I punched him right where… right where… I wasn't thinking… He coughed up blood… No, no, no, NO, NOOO!!!! He pressed his hands to the sides of his face, well the sides of his mask, as he sank to his knees. This is why he had left in the first place. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt. The people he cared about always got hurt. It was all his f- BOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Deku's ears were ringing so bad he was pretty sure he would never hear again. The flash of the explosion had blinded him, how long it would last was unclear, but Deku knew he'd been blasted onto his back. He groaned as he registered the shape his body was in, thankful that the adrenaline was keeping him from feeling the full weight of his injuries. He lifted his head as he began to blink away the dark spots in his vision. But immediately his head was pushed back onto the floor of the roof. He heard talking but he still couldn't make out the words so he struggled against the hand. He knew it was useless but struggling was all he could do. So he fought against the hand he still couldn't completely see with everything he had.

"God Deku, give it a rest," he heard when the ringing eventually released his throbbing eardrums.

That's when he noticed that it was Kacchan's hand that held his head down and that Kacchan had him pinned to the ground. Wait, where is my mask? Deku's eyes searched for the mask but before he could find it, Kacchan took it out of his pocket.

"Looking for this? Yeah, you're not getting it back, Deku. This piece of shit lets you lock yourself away and I ain't putting up with it."

Deku rolled his eyes. Why did Kacchan care if he locked himself away? Didn't he realize that if Deku didn't, he'd be too weak to stop All For One? 

"Why won't you say anything, dammit? Never thought I'd miss your nerdy mumbling…"

Why did Kacchan look sad as he said that? Nah, that must've been in Deku's head. He didn't answer that question either though. They didn't have the most traditional friendship, but Kacchan was the only one who stood a chance of bringing Deku back and that terrified him. He knew Kacchan would tear apart anything he said and would use it to convince him to go home. Right now, Kacchan was as dangerous as Shinsou; one word and Deku would lose.

"So you're mute now, is that it?" Kacchan demanded. "Fine then, I'll talk and you better fucking listen, Deku! I don't give a crap about your whole I-need-to-save-everyone routine but I thought you did! Isn't that the whole fucking reason you left in the first place?"

Deku's eyes widened in curiosity. What was Kacchan talking about? His emerald eyes were only met with a ruby glare.

"You didn't even realize, did you? Those three extras you pummeled back there, they looked like they could've used some saving themselves."

What are you talking about? Saving? Saving from who?

"So I was right then," Kacchan sighed and then looked towards the skyline, away from Deku.

When did Kacchan's voice get so quiet? It reminded Deku of how he had been at the sports festival… quiet because he was serious. Why did that tone unnerve Deku so much? Why did those words fill him with… dread?

"Deku, you ran away so you could protect people. You ran away so you could focus on defeating All For One. But were you focused when you landed on this roof? No, you weren't... If you had been focused, you wouldn't have had such a rough landing. If you had been focused, you would've remembered to pay attention to blackwhip even if the landing was rough…" Kacchan paused to look back at Deku.

Kacchan's eyes searched Deku's face, piercing into his soul as if searching for something. Then he sighed again. Why does Kacchan look so sad?

"Didn't you even wonder how they got all beat up?"

What is Kacchan saying? Why does he look so sad? Why is… why is his voice SO QUIET??? I hate this… I don't know what's happening… I hate this… I want him to go back to yelling… I want him to stop looking at me like… LIKE THAT!!!!

Suddenly Kacchan's eyes hardened and he moved his hands from Deku's wrists to his face. At first Deku was relieved because maybe Kacchan had heard his thoughts and was going back into angry mode but then he spoke. If Deku had thought that tone was awful before, it was unbearable now.

"You didn't mean for the landing to be so rough," it wasn't a question, "even though you were wearing that stupid mask, only an idiot wouldn't have noticed how you flinched in surprise. It was in that moment that you probably forgot all about blackwhip… quirks are like muscles, Deku, you know that. When you flinched, blackwhip flinched too… you slammed -"

But Deku didn't hear the rest of that sentence. It all blurred away as the realization sunk in. He was responsible for the cuts and bruises on his attackers. He had knocked them out without even realizing. Because he had been distracted. What was he even distracted by at the time? What could be so impor- Oh. That's when he started crying. It was all too much; if he wasn't failing at one thing, he was screwing up another. He had been so distracted by his own resolve to distance himself from everyone that he hurt other people. It didn't matter that they were villains, they were still people. How could he call himself a hero? He was the least deserving person of that title!

"Kacch-" Deku was crying so hard that he couldn't finish before erupting into more tears.

But it didn't matter because Kacchan sat up and pulled him into a hug. He lost track of how long they sat there like that, hugging each other tight like their lives depended on it. And it did, at least for Deku. He knew that if he let go or if Kacchan did, he wouldn't survive. He cried and cried but Kacchan never pushed him away. 

"Kacchan, I - I messed up!" he wailed, "I c-couldn't defeat All- All For One. I d-didn't protect my f-friends. A-and I h-hurt those people. I c-can't s-save the world!"

"No, you can't," Kacchan said.

Deku stopped crying, momentarily shocked. Before the weight of those words could settle over him, he felt a slight pain in his side. Kacchan had jabbed him with his finger, but why? Kacchan broke their embrace so he could hold Deku's face in his hands again. God, those eyes were so intense.

"You can't save the world alone. No one can. It's a big fucking world, Deku! So cut the crap and let me help you already!" Kacchan said, those ruby eyes softening just a little.

Deku shook his head, "But you got stabbed last time!"

"'Cuz you kept on fucking going on on your own!" Kacchan said, jabbing his finger in Deku's side again.

"Ouch! That actually hurt Kacchan!"

"Tch! That'll teach you to pull that crap again, nerd!"

"But Kacch-"

"Shut up! Don't you fucking realize that you trying to do this by yourself is what caused this whole fucking mess in the first place? So just. Stop," Kacchan pressed his forehead against Deku's, "And let me help you, you damn nerd."

Maybe it was because he was still in shock from all the explosions, maybe he was a bit delirious from all the crying, or perhaps it was because he was just so goddamn tired of running. Whatever the reason, Deku didn't freak out like he would've thought he would've if someone had told him he'd be this close to Kacchan. It just felt so… so right. For the first time in a very, very long time, Deku felt safe. 

He leaned his own forehead against Kacchan's to return the pressure and said, "Okay."

They had so much more to talk about later but, for now, this one word was enough. It said everything that Deku couldn't yet; it promised that next time he would not be alone. It admitted that he had been wrong to isolate himself from the people he cared about. It accepted that Kacchan was right, that no one could save the world alone. And though Deku didn't yet know it, that one simple word signalled the birth of the partnership that would one day be known around the world as "The Wonder Duo."

"Okay," he said again before leaning his tired head against Kacchan's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Deku fell asleep almost instantly but not before he heard Kacchan's light chuckle. Not before he felt Kacchan lift him up in his strong, steady arms. Not before he felt the faintest of kisses on his forehead. It had been days since he'd gotten to rest so he was completely knocked out when Kacchan carried him off the roof. He slept through the shocked reactions of his classmates when Kacchan appeared at the hospital, carrying Deku in his arms. He slept through it all, but Kacchan would tell him about everything when he woke up. One day, though that day was still very far away, he would tell their children about how he'd lost his way and how Kacchan was the one who saved him. He'd tell them about how they took turns saving each other so they could save the world. One day, Deku would smile as he told their children the story of how he and Kacchan became the greatest heroes ever.

[rose7420]

Things Get Better

When Y/n gets hurt her only hope is with the god of mischief... requested by @lokiismyhubby

(Y/S/C)- Your skin color

Warnings: Some description about a broken bone

Y/n cradled her arm closely to her chest. While sneaking around, she had lost her balance on the third shelf of Loki’s bookcase. The little literature fanatic had become too enamored by the dozens of books upon the shelves. Now, while the shelf may have been knee height for his imposing frame the drop certainly wasn’t a short one for a person of Y/n’s stature. Her foot slipped off the side as she backed up just a little too far attempting to read the spine of an eye-catching book and consequently she fell towards the hard ground holding her arms out to break her fall. Her outstretched limbs prevented her face from slamming hard into the wood but took a lot of damage. Her arm was at a very unnatural angle, tender and warm to the touch. There was no way she’d be able to fix this on her own.

She looked over to Loki’s desk where he was slouched over, staring intently at papers before him with a scowl. His head was propped up by his hand, arm resting on the table. She took a deep breath and tip-toed her way towards him. A part of her wanted him to notice her steps and the other part wanted to dash in the opposite direction.

It didn’t take a genius to guess which instinct was stronger at the time for the borrower.

She had watched Loki for a while now. The man was intelligent, cunning, and mischievous. But she still trusted him for some unknown reason. Perhaps because of the way his green eyes never missed anything, or how she felt he knew what people were thinking with a glance. No matter the fact that she was pretty sure this man was a literal wizard.

No literally, she’d watched him make books and animals appear out of thin air. Or how he’d glamour himself as a completely different person on some occasions.

Now that was creepy… but cool.

She approached his black boot that was anxiously tapping away, sending tremors through her body. Her eyes followed the extent of his form. Even sitting his frame was unfathomably large, towering over her without effort. A shiver ran through her body as she thought of all the ways he could effortlessly kill her.

Suddenly, his foot shifted and came close to knocking little Y/n off her own feet. She squeaked in alarm, drawing the attention of the giant above.

Loki’s attention was lost from the paperwork in front of him and drawn to the noise he heard below him.

How odd, he thought.

Peering down at his feet, his eyes widened at the sight of a minuscule figure standing beside his boot.

“Oh my.” He whispered.

He slowly stood up out of his chair, towering over the little being. He quickly knelt down to lessen the distance between them. He reached out a curious hand but stopped his movement when the person shouted something he couldn’t make out. As he looked closer he saw that the person was a female, and seemed to be holding their arm as if she was injured.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

The girl nodded, “Yes sir...I-I was hoping you could help me.” She stated with hesitancy, heart pounding. Could hearts pound out of your chest?

Hopefully not.

Loki’s tough facade softened immediately, knowing that such a tiny soul would ask him for help out of all people.

“Of course dear, let’s move to a different spot.” He lowered his palm before her, flattening his fingers to offer an easier step up.

Oh hell no, she thought; scrambling away from the outstretched hand.

“Hey now… I’m not going to hurt you. You asked for help, right? I’m here to help. I promise no foul play.”

He watched as she approached his hand cautiously and experimentally sunk her own hand into his skin. He held back a smile from the ticklish sensation. He was awed by the fact that this girl was no taller than his thumb, standing at most of two inches tall. She paused for a moment looking back up at Loki as if asking for permission. He nodded trying to lessen the intimidating expression he usually wore into a softer, more trustable one. Her tiny weight upon his palm tickled even more as she scooted closer to the middle of his hand. Seeing that she was settled, he curled his fingers around her but left her a good amount of breathing room.

“What’s your name dear?” He questioned, holding her at chest level.

He watched her mouth move not being able to hear her clearly. Slowly he raised his hand bearing her closer to his face, able to hear and see her clearly.

“I was not able to hear you down there, could you repeat that?” He said, missing how tense his simple movement had made the small girl.

“M-my name’s Y/n.” She stuttered, her hand of her uninjured arm twiddling with her threadbare shirt.

“Well Y/n, let’s get you fixed up, shall we?” He lowered his palm to the desk he was sitting at previously, removing all the papers with one large sweep of his arm.

Y/n was curious as to what the papers were for. She remembered watching him earlier and how agitated he’d looked while staring down at them.

“What are those papers for?” She asked innocently.

Loki looked at her confused as to why she would want to know as he sat down.

“Just paperwork.” He said simply.

Paperwork? What did that mean? Her confusion must’ve shown on her face when Loki spoke again.

“You do know what that is now Little One?”, humor coating his voice.

Rather embarrassed, Y/n’s cheeks flushed but she shook her head.

“Let me see your arm dear,” Loki ordered kindly, changing the subject. Y/n held it out hesitantly, the pain was almost unbearable as she moved the unstable limb. She cried out in pain, prompting Loki to lean in closer and pinch her slight wrist in his large fingers.

He was once again awed by how he couldn't even see the small hand between his fingers. He did however feel the dainty tendons and bones moving under his tender, gentle touch.

“How did you even manage to hurt yourself?” He asked with curiosity and worry.

“I fell off your shelf,” Y/n said meekly, ducking her head. Loki didn’t overlook her shyness, in fact, he wished to comfort her but he had to take care of the primary problem as of right now. He closed his eyes, imagining the bones mending back together and the arm reverting back to its (Y/S/C) tint. He opened his eyes and her arms were back to the original.

Y/n looked down at her arms in amazement. She turned her forearms upright and down. Looking up at Loki, who was already staring down at her she felt a smile stretch across her lips. Without thinking much of it, she jumped up enthusiastically and ran to his nearby hand. She threw her arms around his thumb.

“Thank you, Loki!”

Loki smiled and chuckled at the girl’s heartfelt actions. He curled his fingers in and wrapped her in a hug; the best he could offer at their different sizes.

���So Little One… you like books and you know my name; without me informing you of it… I must say you interest me very much so.”

Y/n immediately let go of his finger, backing away with dread. Before she got too far away she bumped into a wall… of skin? Loki’s hand blocked her from going any further, the huge palm thrice her own height.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked quizzically.

“Well, I invaded your privacy. I didn’t think humans liked that.” Y/n stated as a matter-of-fact her voice shaky.

“First of all… I am not a mortal or human as you say and secondly, it doesn’t bother me if you looked at my things. I’m rather happy to know someone likes literature as much as myself. Why don’t we settle down and find a good book to read?”

Y/n nodded still processing that he wasn’t human. That explained all the magic stuff. She watched as Loki strutted to the bookshelf bending down to look for the perfect book. Once he’d made his selection, he walked back to the desk and scooped Y/n up, holding her in a protective cave of fingers against his chest. He sat down on the plush bed and reclined his back against the headboard letting his legs stretch out. Y/n was astounded by how tall he was. The simple length of his legs surpassed her own house! He let Y/n crawl onto his chest, who found the fabric of his cotton shirt soft and warm. She snuggled in the blanket of his shirt and listened to him read. His voice was soothing as the deepness of it reverberated through her entire being. He let the book rest upon his upper stomach where she could see the page clearly but the words were still printed too big for her to read properly.

A little way into the story, an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation started on her back. She looked over her shoulder to see the tip of a large finger making circles on the itty width of her back. The rumbling beneath her stopped as Loki paused his reading. She turned all the way around, to face Loki. He stopped rubbing her back momentarily.

“Is everything all right?” He asked.

Y/n thought about that simple question. This kind giant had helped her immensely. The kindness in Loki’s heart surpassing even his immense stature. She smiled shyly back at him.

“Everything is all right.” And it truly was.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed like and reblog!

[c-rose2081]

A Letter from Grace

—

My life, as most people’s do, began at an ungodly hour on October 31st, 1918. Father admitted once that it was the longest witching hour of his life, and that he hadn’t slept at all the days prior due to worry over the birth. I was born three months earlier then expected, and mother liked to say that I was the smallest, most fragile little baby she’d ever laid eyes on. Just the size of a decent eggplant from the market; perfectly suited to sit in the palm of your hand.

Tension was high that night, as Influenza had already taken many infants in the local Hospital. So I was born in the dark privacy of my Grandfathers New York Estate, passed down for three generations already. Father was excited to have a fourth Generation to which he could pass his legacy, or so I was told. Swaddled expertly by a matron of almost sixty years who Mother claimed to trust with her life, for a single moment everything was perfect; just my parents and their little baby girl who they named Grace.

But my weakness would not be chased away so easily.

Though I don’t remember much of the early years, I recall father once telling me that I had broken two fingers, and cracked my head open before I could even walk. Doctors who came to the house claimed my bones simply weren’t strong enough yet; that I needed more calcium which my mothers milk couldn’t seem to provide. But by the time I was on my own two feet, tottering about the manor as most young children do, bruises, breaks, and scratches had the staff and my poor parents on edge. It was around this time as well my own heart decided to betray me. It wasn’t normal for such a young child to be fatigued as quickly as I was, nor was it normal for her breathing to sound like the hard start of an automobile.

Up until the age of six, when I begin to remember some (if only a little) of my childhood, no one - no local physician nor expert - could figure out what was wrong with me. Everything, yet nothing, was the matter. Mother - who was a journalist for National Geographic - traveled and was away for long periods during this time. And though I can recall day dreaming of the many fantastic and wondrous locales she must’ve seen, it left my worrying father to…well, worry about me. It seemed falling down the stairs face first at my local day school and not only cracking my head open again, but also breaking two ribs and promptly becoming unconscious, was enough to send him reeling over the edge of hysteria for my well-being.

During my long and tedious recovery from that single incident, I caught a devilish sickness. No one knows where it had come from; another student in my school perhaps, or from a simple passing stranger. But Father claimed he had paid a fortune in phone calls to Africa in order to speak with mother who was (at the time) photographing Elephants. She came straight home of course, only to find her little girl pale and as close to death as one could be.

It’s all a bit hazy, as my brain was still young; feverish and half-delusional. But I can remember the lingering smell of tobacco on fathers hands and ground into his silk lapels as he cradled me, rubbing my back as I coughed and struggled to catch a breath. And I can still hear mother’s voice as she sat by the bedside, telling me of the many animals she had seen while in Africa. I dreamed of lions and elephants in those hours, blearily staring at nothing as lamplight flickered across damp windowpanes from an evening rainfall. I recovered slowly but surely, but that first flu had taken something out of me. Something I wasn’t ever able to get back, even as I grew older.

I was just about to turn seven, finally healthy again, when I was no longer permitted to leave the grounds. Mother and Father had a very long, loud conversation about it in the library, to which I listened in through the mahogany door. There was to be no more school; just private tutors who I would soon come to spite. No more Summer games in the park, or long nights under strings of electric lights at the carnival. No possibility of family trips, or late night escapades to the Ice Cream parlor for frozen cherries and whipped cream. There was to be no world for me beyond the fence of the Estate.

To keep me safe, Father claimed.

It was only a day after that the wheelchair made its first appearance in my life. Father insisted it would help with my heart; protect it from beating to fast from running, or walking about to quickly. Mother disagreed with the notion, I could see it on her face as I was settled into the wicker seat for the first time, but she said nothing. I hated it instantly. I wanted to run and play, and roll about in the grass like the kids at my school could. I used to envy their ability to get high, high up into the branches above the schoolyard, perched at the top with the world at their feet. I never dared try for myself, lest Father decide to cut all the trees down if he ever saw me in one.

It wasn’t bad at first; Mother stayed with me those beginning months, occupying my mind with stories of her travels and long games of chess. She began me in piano lessons, and helped with my cursive. But it wasn’t long before she once again had to leave; India this time, to photograph wild tigers. The day she left it felt like some huge part of me went with her. Father tried his best of course, and I remember riding on his shoulders or in his arms with fondness. But he was a busy man, often called away to the city for one thing or another.

The staff of course did their best, but babysitting a squirmy young girl certainly wasn’t in their daily agenda. My nursemaid - the same woman who birthed me (nasty old crone) - was a harsh matron who allowed for little beyond what was deemed safe and allowable by my Father. It was always lessons in the morning; the usual subjects of maths, geography, history, natural sciences and the like. This clockwork schedule was followed by etiquette and tea time, piano lessons, art, literature and penmanship.

I did get some exercise, but I was always well watched by Matron and at least two other members of staff. Some days it was a casual swim, no longer then half an hour, and on Saturday it was a light waltzing lesson (privately taught of course). And - on the rare occasion I could bully the other staff into it - a game of croquet or darts on the lawn. But there was little time for fun, despite my Fathers pleasure at my supposed ‘safety’, and I each day I felt some small part of me die.

I was 13 when the next incident occurred. Some local boys who I’d never seen before wandered close to our garden fence. Matron had left me to my afternoon reading as to fetch coffee (which I had come to prefer over tea). Mother - according to her letters - was someplace in China, hunting down Rhinoceros. Father had left earlier that morning to meet with investors at his office in the city. It was a rare moment I was truly alone. The boy, who’s name I can’t recall now, smiled at me. It was a cute, boyish grin and I can still remember how startled I was by it. After all I hadn’t seen anyone in what felt like years (at least six, to be exact). He urged me close to the fence.

At that point I was desperate to be out of my wheelchair, so I walked to him. He nodded to the lovely apple tree which I had been sitting under, and asked if I could climb it to fetch him one of the fruit. Of course I said no, as climbing was strictly prohibited, but he was quite a smooth talker for a boy so young. He called me pretty, and dove, and all the sweet things one calls a girl to make her waver in her convictions. And so - stupidly, might I say - I climbed the tree against my better judgement.

Three shiny red apples were tossed easily over the fence, one for each boy. They gave me a wave goodbye and ran off to do whatever they pleased. And then there was me, a fragile, tiny girl stuck up in a tree with no way down. Of course I didn’t mind at first, I was actually elated I had made the climb at all. I finally was able to see what my schoolmates had all those years ago. I could view the entire estate and beyond; I could stare at the horizon; seemingly endless in its reach. But as much as I yearned to stay above and away from my tiny world forever, Matron would soon return.

Getting out of the tree was much more complicated then climbing into it.

I remember the horrible feeling of miscalculation; falling and hitting the soft earth with a terrible grunt. Something inside me cracked, and my lungs exploded with fire as I wheezed out a cry of pain. I don’t remember now who had seen me first; one of the yard staff perhaps, but Matron was furious. Once again I was bedridden, pretending to sleep as Father puffed on his favorite ivory pipe just outside my bedroom door. He mentioned to Matron the idea of adding straps to the wheelchair, as to keep me from falling. I remember whimpering under the blankets at the thought of being tied to the thing, and sobbing myself to sleep that night.

The years came and went, and I felt more and more heavy with each passing hour. I didn’t leave the wheelchair again until I was 16, and simply couldn’t stand the bloody thing anymore. I would sit in chairs, or on window sills. I’d spend time in the woven hammock in the garden, or lounge across the evening sofas. Any place I could sit, I would, simply to avoid being stuck in the contraption I loathed. I got sick more often during these middle years; on again off again fevers and dizzy spells that left me dazed and began the chain of worrying my father and caretakers all over again.

There were endless nights alone where I’d stare at my naked form in the mirror in golden lamplight, using a finger to count the ribs poking from under my paper-like skin. It’s true my body was changing into that of a woman, but it hardly mattered when the lightest of touches could leave a mark on me the size of a continent.

Mother was traveling again, to and from as she always seemed to do. Letters and phone calls were exchanged often, and I often studied the places she traveled when she was away in my geography lessons. But it often felt like it was just Father and I against the world. He was dear of course, moving his work to the home office as illness became more common. He’d bring me gifts from the city; strings of diamonds and beautiful mink furs. A brand new motorcar, just for my use (not like I could ever go anywhere). But there really wasn’t much that could bring a smile to my face.

Burning the wheelchair and the Matron in a fire the size of Connecticut might have done it. But I didn’t have the heart to ask.

Father even hosted a large ball for my Birthday that year, with dancing and music and people. But even that couldn’t seem to bring my heart from its dark and lonely place. Only when Father allowed the wheelchair to be folded up and hidden away in the closet after almost ten years did I finally feel whole again. I was more careful after that; I did little to aggravate my condition. The fevers and fainting spells were still present, but the bruises and breaks healed. I took a fondness for the writings of Edgar Allen Poe, and Lewis Carroll’s Alice. I read the articles in National Geographic which Mother had sent in her letters over the years, and sketched the animals which she herself had photographed. For a while, everything finally seemed ok.

Until Mother returned home from her second trip to Africa deeply ill.

For the first time in my life, I finally felt what father must have for me every time I lay bedridden. I was only allowed to see her from the doorway, out of fear of me catching the disease as well. I wasn’t allowed to speak with anyone who entered or left the room, and Father had to bathe and keep his distance whenever he came to see me. I was 18 when she finally died in the night. This year. Though it feels like just yesterday.

Yellow Fever they said, from a mosquito bite in Africa.

Nothing - not the breaks, bruises, fevers or constant illness - prepared me to see my own mother dead. I wasn’t even allowed to see her; to say goodbye. I could only watch, held back by three of the staff, as she was carried out under a sheet. The Doctor had to sedate me for my own health after I managed to break loose and nearly fell down the stairs after her corpse. I woke up numb, and couldn’t convince myself to move for days after that. I knew I should’ve been grieving with father, but I couldn’t manage it. There was so much pain. The wheelchair came out of the closet again, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

The funeral was attended, and the casket buried. Father and I didn’t speak much in those long weeks after; in fact I wondered if I even could. It felt like I hadn’t spoken in years. There was just a horrible, overwhelming chill in me, and I grew weaker with grief. After a few months, Father became worried for me, as did the house staff. They opened the windows, and trimmed the gardens. The rooms were dusted, and filled with light. I was taken outside the fence for the first time since I was a girl, in the automobile which I hadn’t ever used. But there was still only emptiness.

After four months, Father left the house to attend a meeting in the city. He returned with a man whom I didn’t recognize; a fancy man who bowed and kissed my hand and smiled from under his white mustache. He said his specialty was in dealing with those lost in grieving, and that perhaps it would be best if we (my father and I) left New York and all it’s memories behind. Naturally I was appalled at the idea, but couldn’t seem to match my face to my feelings.

Before I knew it the house was emptied out, packed into boxes and taken away by trucks and wagons. Anything not moved was sold at auction, and the house was passed on to the highest bidder.

“New Orleans, my little Bluebird,” Father told me as we settled in for the long journey by car across the country, leaving New York behind, “truly a city of culture. I’ve bought us a beautiful new home just outside town; you’ll love how big it is.”

And big it was. The old Hatchaway Estate was an ivory mansion in a traditional New England style. Surrounded by the most beautiful trees and well kept fields, it was a far cry from the fenced in world back home. The staff, pre-hired, were a gloomy looking bunch dressed in green and black stripes. But father liked their quiet (somewhat somber) fortitude, and so I said nothing as they helped us settle in. There was something…unusual about the new house. I could feel it the minute I walked through the door. A heaviness; like someone was watching me. It was just enough unease for me to forget my quiet grief for a moment.

I learned quickly that the house itself was seemingly unnerved. The first week I had seen at least two items move on their own, and heard giddy singing from the back garden only to find no one there. The staff was practically ghostly, saying very little to us, let alone one another. And I spent a lot of time exploring the grounds on my own. It was a few weeks after moving in, about a month before my 19th Birthday, that father hired two new drivers; a Mr. Harrod Fairchild, and Mr. Rudolph Martin to tend to the cars.

And this, my friends, is where I find myself now. Writing this overview of where I’ve been so far, and now disclosing with utmost discretion my newfound interest in the man father has hired in my name. Mr. Martin is…how to describe him is a puzzle. Handsome? Certainly. Charming? Quite so. I find myself endeared to his presence despite myself, and I grow weary of this…this little tickle of something other then emptiness that has suddenly flared up inside me. Have I once again caught ill? How to explain to father (or anyone really) this fever in me whenever he’s nearby. I’ve barely spoken to him, but have watched him tend to the car and grounds from the windows. I know he’s gentle, but still quite strong. I can sometimes hear him singing down there, leaning against the porch as he plays the banjo for the staff keeping the porch.

Every time I do get close, or think about approaching him myself, I feel that fever begin to rise and I wonder if something is truly very wrong with me. It feels like I’m dying, and I can hardly stand it. I’m bewitched. Perhaps it’s this terrible heat? What’s wrong with me?

I wish mother were here, she’d know what to do.

Eternally yours, dear reader

Grace

[draqcnheartstrinq]

Hate That I Want You (Part 6)

Sirius Black x Pure-blood!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: At first it’s hate, then it’s confusion. It grows into a healthy amount of curiosity until it turns into hate once more. But not towards each other, more towards the idea of wanting what you’ve tried to avoid all your life.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, emotions, anger.

Note: It's been a long wait but suddenly got a lot of inspiration and got back into my Hogwarts feels! I miss this magical world so badly.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

HTIWY Masterpost

You weren’t used to visiting the Headmaster’s Office and yet that’s exactly where you were called to as soon as you entered Hogwarts Grounds. You imagined Dumbledore wanted to talk to you about your leave, how you will continue classes now you’re back and maybe about how you experienced the funeral.

Maybe Professor Dumbledore would be the kind listening ear you so desperately needed, no one else had ever bothered being that person for you… Except for Grandma.

But you knew that was wishful thinking, besides it would probably be highly unprofessional for a headmaster to get involved in pupils’ private business.

Seeing the big gargoyle statue, that was supposed to be the entrance to his office,  extremely intimidated you and as no one was there to guide you inside you waited whilst taking deep breaths. Five minutes must have gone by before you heard stone moving against stone and the spinning of the gargoyle caught your attention. A staircase appeared from the ground up.

Knowing no better you placed yourself on one of the moving steps and let yourself be carried upwards.

“I see you made it back to school, Miss (Y/L/N)”, you heard an old deep voice say as soon as you reached the top, the stairs underneath you locked into place. The big wooden door was already opened and through it you could see a beautifully decorated desk, Dumbledore partially leaning against it.

You walked inside, looking around like a tourist in London and finally answered after taking in the grandeur of the interior. “Yes I did, Professor. I hope nothing important took place whilst I was gone?”

The old man smirked at you, looking over his glasses as if your question sounded funny to him. Nonetheless, he seemed friendly about it all.

“No, nothing too important and certainly not as eventful as before you left.”

That statement made you look up, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. You could’ve been mistaken for a deer in headlights.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t think I understand…”

“Miss (Y/L/N), I know about everything that goes on in this school’s hallways and I know about everyone that resides here. You’re not going to tell me you thought I was going to do nothing about what happened between you and Mr. Black.”

Your mouth now fell open and your eyes widened until you almost believed they would fall out of your skull. Great, The Headmaster knew about the howler and probably every word that your mother had written inside of it. Everyone would be stamping you as a follower of The Dark Lord, a Mudblood killer, a believer of purity. Now even your headmaster knew about the dark family you were born in.

He probably knew about them for a long time but now? There was no doubting he would judge you too…

“Miss, how did the funeral affect you? Was your grandmother very dear to you?”

This question threw you even more, surely he wouldn’t actually be asking you if you were okay. The confusion must’ve been evident on your features as Dumbledore started smiling again.

“I loved my grandmother, more than I loved anyone else probably.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss then. I hope you can find some comfort between these walls.”

More than I could ever get at home, you thought.

The funeral was very small, your parents and other relatives didn’t want to catch a lot of attention from outsiders and most probably didn’t want to pay for someone as ‘not important’ as your grandma. You were the only one to buy a bouquet of white and yellow flowers for her, the ones she always said she loved so much.

The look on your face must have screamed all the things you were feeling for the headmaster took it upon himself to talk some confidence into you. It was nothing but unexpected, the way he seemed to care for one of his students, let alone you.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I doubt anyone in Hogwarts is left to wonder what your intentions are. The most wonderful and strong souls hold the most painful secrets after all.”

It’s those words, spoken by a man you barely knew, that have brought you the most comfort in the past five days. He said it softly but with determination, it made you believe what he said, no matter the words he spoke. It made you wonder.

A silence fell over the room. Whilst you were fighting through thoughts in your head, thinking about yourself, your grandmother, what was to come your way here at Hogwarts, Dumbledore walked to the other side of his desk and sat himself down on his big almost golden chair. It could resemble a throne if you didn’t know any better.

The man intertwined his hands and sat there for a little while, looking at you over his glasses like a grandfather would at his grandchild.

“You must be a little lost right now but don’t worry, everything will fall back onto its feet. In the meantime I’m sure young Mr. Black will do everything in his power to make things right.”

“I’m sorry headmaster, but I highly doubt that”, you answered, genuinely convinced Sirius couldn’t care any less about what happened to you.

“I guess you will have to take my word for it then.” And once again Dumbledore spoke with such confidence in his words that you couldn’t help but doubt your own opinions. Maybe all the rumors were true, maybe this man in front of you really had a third eye seeing everything all at once. Even in the magical world you lived in this was something to be admired.

“Please close the door on your way out, Miss (Y/LN), and give my regards to your dormmates. Also say hello to Sirius downstairs.”

Your eyes went wide because just like that the conversation was over. A little overwhelmed and at the same time underwhelmed you made your way back down the winding staircase. Out of all the things the headmaster could’ve said, he stayed vague, didn’t say a word about the classes you missed and what in the bloody Merlin’s beard did he mean by Say hello to Sirius downstairs.

You couldn’t even finish that last thought before you saw two exhausted grey eyes looking back at you. Two lips parted, panting away as if the guy had run his lungs out of his chest. After a few seconds the rustling of paper caught your attention as you looked down towards his hands. They held a bundle of parchment, tightly almost like a lifeline.

When you looked back up at his face Sirius started talking, no, more like rambling. With every word your anger grew.

“I talked to your friends, well, the girls talked to your friends and I stood there listening, but they said you would need detailed summaries of the lessons you missed this week and I thought maybe some more from me would help. Maybe your roommates missed out on some stuff so I wanted to make sure to give my notes on top of theirs because maybe you would need them… And I know it’s not much, but I- I really hope you’ll take them because I don’t want you to lack behind because of this situation you’re in and… I’m sorr-”

“Save it, Black.”

Your hard and unforgiving tone made him look up from the ground he was rambling towards. He finally met your eyes and saw the anger you held in them. He didn’t blame you, he understood, he was prepared for it because of the thousands of times he played this moment in his head the last few days.

He was prepared for the frown he saw, he had imagined it to be so much worse than it was. But he wasn’t prepared for the other emotions he also read on your features.

Sorrow, grief, fatigue, exhaustion, loneliness,...

The list could go on but none of the emotions were anything positive.

He could probably write an essay about all the things he saw by just looking at your face. Sirius wondered how long you had been dragging these feelings along without ever giving them a voice, without ever breaking your front. The first time he saw you break was in The Great Hall after receiving your howler but your act was quickly regained, the second time was in the hallway when you looked at him like he broke your entire world, after the news of your grandma had been revealed to the whole school. And now a third time.

It took him more than six years to see what others had long before him. It took him six years to see an ounce of humanity in you. Now that he did see, he saw more than he could bear. More than anyone should have to carry.

“Please, I- I just want you to take my notes. It’ll help you, it’ll give me a peace of mind.”

“And where is my peace of mind?” you questioned him, less angry and more disappointed this time. Another emotion Sirius didn’t like to see.

Your voice quivered just enough to reveal a whole new load of feelings. Your eyes searched his for something he couldn’t decipher, they looked pleadingly before closing and your chest rising with a deep shaking breath.

When they opened again your whole demeanor was as unreadable as all those years before. Not a single sign of any emotion left. You looked just… indifferent like always.

Sirius didn’t know which of these states of yours he disliked the most. The one where you let go of everything, showing all the things you feel in one single look at your eyes or the one where you show absolutely nothing at all.

“I don’t want your notes, give them to one of your latest conquests.”

With those words you took off towards the dungeons, steady pace, the sound of your shoes echoing.

The guy you left standing there nothing more than a boy watching his hopes walk away from him, papers still crumbling in his grip, regrets still twirling in his mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A long while later Sirius finally entered the Gryffindor Common Room again. He sat himself on one of the couches away from the hearth, throwing the papers onto a nearby table to rest his head in his hands.

He had expected this to go so different from the way it actually went. He had hoped for an acceptance of the notes he took, maybe a loud argument or a back and forth of shouted words. That way he would’ve at least known you had your energy back, he would’ve seen that burning fire like every time you would normally cross him in the halls.

Instead he got the ashes of a fire that lost its last substance to burn. A wood that had been exhausted, burned to the ground, wet with rain from a storm. Nothing left to give.

“I take it she didn’t want the summary”, Remus came to sit next to him on the red cushions. A quiet chatter finally reached Sirius’ ears as he realised they weren’t the only ones still awake. He looked around him, before turning his attention on Remus and his face back to the floor with his elbows on  his thighs, supporting himself.

“No, and honestly I don’t blame her.” It came out as a whisper, not enough energy left in the boy’s body to speak any louder. “I’m mentally exhausted and that doesn’t even begin to describe how she is feeling, Remus, she looked so… so… I don’t even know if there are words to say how she looked.”

“You’ve finally seen what we’ve seen for a few months now, some of us years.”

“I think even a blind person would’ve seen it before I did.”

“Most probably”, Remus chuckled and threw his arms over the back of the couch. “She’ll come around, she’ll forgive you if you keep it obvious how sorry you are.”

“Will she?” Sirius let that question linger between them for a little, he let it sink in. “Because I sure wouldn’t forgive me.”

It was Remus’ turn to sigh. He too had his doubts but wanted to keep his friends’ hopes high.

“No, You’re right, I wouldn’t forgive you either.”

They looked at each other, Sirius slumping his shoulders. Remus then watches the stars outside of the window and the deep blue sky visible from the inside of the common room.

“Let’s hope she’s a better person than we are.”

HTIWY Masterpost

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