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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough.

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you… their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they?

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them.

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in.

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in.

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought.

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet.

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it?

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it.

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway.

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them.

Love them.

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…”

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips.

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear–

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well.

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one.

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question. His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound.

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through.

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast.

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done.

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you.

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you.

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate.

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to.

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you.

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead.

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough.

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.”

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think.

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders.

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it.

#yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere bakugou katuski x reader #yandere kirishima eijiro x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #tw non con #tw kidnapping #tw blood #it's like one mention but still #me posting this when my dash is dead instead of at 2am #more likely than you think

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bistevethor · 3 years ago

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Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

#steve rogers #fic rec #pro steve rogers #i guess i'll tag the ships #samsteve #thundershield

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

Text

Our Little Secret: Part Eight - A.R.

LAST OF THE SERIES

Word count: Summary: 5 years later...

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MURDER AND SEXUAL ASSAULT (basically everything Arvin and the preacher did in the movie is touched on).

5 years later

"Well, y/n, your application is outstanding. We'd love for you to work here." The headteacher spoke to me from across his desk.

"Really? Wow! Thank you so much!" I beamed.

"The new school term starts in August and the kids really need a well-taught, professional, young teacher who can help them grow as children. I think you're perfect for the job."

"Thank you so much, that means a lot. I can't wait to start."

Teaching. Teaching year 1. It was my dream to work with kids and now finally after 4 years of college I could do it.

I've been living in Cincinnati since I left high school 5 years ago. I needed to get out of that town as soon as I could. Everywhere I went it would remind me of Lenora...and Arvin.

I kept in touch with Emma, though. We still chatted at least a few times a month on the phone and she told me every time how much she missed Lenora and how much she missed Arvin. Though it was easier with Lenora because she knew what had happened to her - well, not fully - but she knew that she was gone. With Arvin, she didn't know why he was gone, what he was doing or had done and if he was still even alive. I didn't tell her about what Arvin told me on our last night. I promised him I wouldn't.

But every time I called her it was like I was being set back on my journey of grief and getting over him. I was with a lovely guy called William and we've been together since my last year of college. He didn't know about Lenora or Arvin or the Russell's.

But he did come with me to my father's funeral a few months ago.

Daddy had gotten worse and worse since being in New Coal Creek. We thought he was going to get better once we got him into hospital but it didn't make a difference. And when I moved to Cincinnati, I hardly ever saw him and Ma and I's row got in between Daddy and I's relationship.

So I went to his funeral feeling like the worst daughter on the planet. And I felt as if I was losing everyone I had ever truly loved.

Will was lovely and he worked in the same position Daddy used to work at. We had a house together and we lived there comfortably. It's much like how I grew up living. A big house with no one to fill it with. We didn't even have a dog or a cat because of his allergies. We were engaged to be married and he had bought me a very expensive and big diamond ring which was nice but I had no interest in.

Of course, I accepted. But as soon as he asked me the million dollar question, the first person that popped into my head was Arvin. And then Lenora. And then Daddy.

Wedding planning was very stressful when you don't have many friends or family around to help.

And after my meeting with the headteacher I was heading into town to find my wedding dress.

I was dreading it.

Ma was coming down to help and we'd meet at the place.

I thanked the headteacher and walked out excitedly, ready to start my teaching career. I got in my car and I drove into town. The closer I got, the worse I felt. I didn't want to get a wedding dress and I didn't want to get it with Ma either.

I parked outside of the dress shop and reluctantly got out. The shop was extravagant and elegant. I dreaded going inside. But my feet took me in as my brain lusted for home.

"y/n!" Ma exclaimed, shuffling up to me, already carrying dresses in her arms.

"Ma, hi." She nearly winded me as she embraced me.

I lightly put my hands around her but she tore away quickly.

"This place is just wonderful! I've already found a few you'd look great in!"

"Ma, I'd love if I was the one who would get to pick out my own weddin' dress." I raised a brow.

She sighed, "Fine. Yes, of course. Go into the changin' rooms and I'll follow."

I rolled my eyes and walked to one of the rooms where a consultant with a pearly white smile greeted me.

"Miss y/l/n, lovely to meet you. I'm Angela and I'll be helpin' you today! Are these the dresses you'd like to try?" She chirped, referring to the dresses in my mothers arms.

I sighed, "Yes."

"Great! Come on in."

I stood on the podium in front of the wall-length mirror with the fourth wedding dress on. It was a column dress that fell straight down with only a slight cinch at the waist. It had long sleeves and a high neck and lace covered the bodice. It was not my style.

"You look beautiful!" Ma complimented.

"I don't like it, Ma." I shook my head, twisting and turning to look at it.

"It's your fourth dress and you haven't liked any of them."

"They're just...not my style." I sighed.

Ma rolled her eyes and stood next to me, "It's not about your style. It's about looking gorgeous on your wedding day."

I furrowed my brows, "It's my wedding dress and it's my wedding. I want to love my dress."

"Well you are not the one paying for it." She brushed over my hips.

I felt rage bubble inside of me.

"Fine. We'll take this one then." I stated with a scoff and returned to the changing room in a huff.

"Okay, your fitting will be next month and that's when you'll get your dress home, alright?"

"Thank you." I smiled weakly at the consultant.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day!"

We waved goodbye and began walking out the shop. I placed my white gloves on and adjusted the white hat ornamented with a flower on my curled hair. I smoothed out my white and pale blue polka-dotted dress and adjusted the sky blue belt around my waist. Ma opened the door for me and I thanked her before leaving and hearing the click of my heels on the ground.

"y/n, I won't keep you long, but...you're a woman now. You're 23, you're getting married, you live away from home, you're getting a job. You're a woman. But just because you are older, does not mean I stop being your mother. I will always be your mother whether you like it or not and you have to treat me as such." Ma said, folding her arms over her red, floral tea dress.

I took a deep breath and looked at her.

"You took away my freedom when I was a teenager and because of that, I lost time with - not only Lenora - but Arvin, too. I don't know where he is now. No one does."

Just as I was about to talk about our last night I remembered she still didn't know I snuck out.

"I lost my best friend and the love of my life in the space of weeks and you kept me locked away until there was no one left. I'll never forgive you for that." I said, my head held high.

Ma took a few seconds to process the information and then nodded.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I had no idea. I love you, y/n. I will always love you, alright?" She held my shoulders.

I swallowed and nodded, not looking at her.

"Congratulations on your new job, honey. I'll see you soon." She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek then turned and walked away.

I took a few deep breaths as I watched her, guilt and anger washing away gradually. Part of me didn't want to go home. I wanted to escape for a while. I didn't want to have to go back and sit alone in a huge house I didn't like and I didn't want to wait up for a phone call from Will. I wanted to be by myself. I needed to. I looked around and at my car before deciding I'd go into town for a while.

I left the car and stuffed the keys further into my handbag. I clicked down the pavement until I reached the main road of shops, leading to a lake and a park where families would walk and eat ice-cream.

It was summer, so the sun was out in full, the trees swaying in the warm breeze and the sound of a few buskers playing accompanied by the noise of town people roaming around filled the warm air.

I smiled and said good mornin' to people as I walked by, waving at a few kids and cooing at some babies. I'd never really spent much time in town. I was always working or at the house with Will. It felt good to be out and alone. I wandered around, looking in some shop windows and wishing for the dresses but deciding against it.

It wasn't until I passed a shop and briefly glanced in it that I actually stopped to look closely. I took a double take and stood in front of the window, looking up at the displayed mannequin. It was a white blouse paired with a white tennis skirt and blue ribbon tied around the neck. A fond grin grew on my face. It reminded me of high school. Though I never wore mine on my neck, I still wanted it. I never wore ribbons in my hair anymore.

I couldn't help myself but go in. I entered the seemingly quiet shop and found the nearest shop consultant.

"Hi! I love that ribbon you have on show, is it for sale?" I asked with a smile.

The woman looked almost confused, "It's a ribbon...it's for decoration?"

"Oh...well, I'd still love to buy it. Name a price." I smiled again.

She looked at me dumbfounded for a moment but then shook it off and walked to the mannequin. She untied the silk and walked back over with it, placing it into my hands.

"It's free." She smiled.

"Thank you so much. I love it." I grinned.

"Have a nice day, now."

"I will." I beamed, walking out the store.

I felt giddy with nostalgia and excitement as I pulled my hair back under my hat and tied it with the ribbon, giving it a delicate bow. I checked it in my compact mirror and smiled with joy. I felt closer to myself.

I continued walking down the road and then to the lake. I stood and leaned against the railing, watching the elegant swans float by, their white feathers contrasting beautifully against the dark blue of the water. I watched them for a while, probably for about 10 minutes before I felt a light tug on my dress.

I got a fright and looked down where a young girl was standing next to me. I immediately smiled with relief and stood back.

"Hello," I waved.

"You're very beautiful, ma'am." She complimented in a strong southern accent.

"Why thank you, Mrs." I grinned.

"Would you like some bread to feed the swans?" She offered, holding up a chunk of bread.

"I would love some. Thank you." I graciously accepted the bread, holding it in my gloved hands.

The girls' mother called her back. She looked up at me and waved.

"Bye!" She said, before running off to her mum.

I smiled and laughed a little before turning back to the swans. I broke a piece of bread off and threw it in the water. I threw some more pieces in and watched as they all swam to the food, fighting over who got what.

Once I was out of bread, I sighed, leaning against the railing by my forearms. I took in my surroundings. I looked to my left where children were playing with each other as parents stood or sat on benches, resting. A few elderly couples walked by, hand in hand, arm in arm, chatting about everything and nothing.

A girl on a pink bike caught my eye. She was gorgeous and sat atop the seat with joy and pride as she rode by. My eyes followed her as she rode behind me and kept going.

But my eyes shifted focus when she rode by someone.

Someone who looked eerily familiar.

He had brown, woven, checkered trousers on and a white dress shirt with sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows. Brown suspenders hung over his shoulders and a white vest peeked out from the unbuttoned shirt.

But the dark eyes with the brown, slicked back hair and the cigarette in his mouth gave him away.

He was already looking at me, however. Like he had been for hours. I turned slightly, feeling my heart beat rise as he threw his cigarette on the ground.

It can't be him. It's just a lookalike. It's because I've been thinking about him today. It's not him. He's not here.

He walked closer to me but stopped about 2 metres away, hands in pockets with his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine.

I could feel my chest heave against my dress as I stared at him, trying to decipher if that was truly him or if I was just dreaming.

"y/n?" He finally said, unsure of whether I was who he thought I was.

"A-Arvin?" I whispered.

A smile began to grow on his face and I knew it was him. It was him. Arvin.

I dropped my handbag and ran towards him, throwing my arms around his neck a our bodies collided, nearly setting us back.

His arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me up, making my legs pop up. He still smelled the same and he still felt the same. He felt like home.

"I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling a tear fall down my face.

He placed me back on my feet and I looked at him, cupping his face with my hands. He held them, stroking my thumbs with a smile.

"Why are you here?" He asked softly.

"I-I live here. I have since...since high school." I gulped.

He raised his brows, "I've been here for four years, y/n."

My mouth dropped open, "What?!"

He grinned, his hands squeezing mine, "We've both been livin' here for four years but not ran into each other."

I stuttered, "Wh-what? How is that- oh my gosh." I laughed, bringing my hands away from his face.

"I can't believe you're here, Arvin." I gulped, my chin quivering slightly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying in public.

"Hey, shh." He brought me into him, cradling my head against his chest.

"We're here. I'm here." He said softly.

We decided to walk around the park to catch up which seemed both amazing but alien at the same time. We were still us but we had changed so much.

"Still wearin' ribbons I see." He grinned.

I laughed, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. I always loved them." He smiled.

I blushed and looked to the ground.

"So, why Cincinnati?" Arvin asked.

I sighed, "I couldn't live there anymore after school." I gulped.

"It was just too hard. And I got accepted into college here so I decided to move."

"You'll be finished school now, right?" Arvin queried.

"Yeah. I just finished and I actually just got a job today, so." I smiled.

"That's amazin'. I'm happy for you." He grinned.

"Thank you..."

We walked in silence for a little longer than I would have hoped. But he broke it again.

"Why're you in town today, then? Considering I spend every day here and I've never seen you leads me to believe you don't come here often." He chuckled.

I nodded, "Yeah, I never get the chance too. But I was uh...I was actually in town for a dress fitting." I coughed, looking down at the floor.

"Goin' somewhere nice?" He asked.

I scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, "My wedding."

He stared at me in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open, soaking in the information.

"Y-you're engaged?" He croaked.

I nodded, removing my left glove to show the sturdy ring that sat on my finger.

"W-wow. I mean...he must be rich if you got a ring like that." He swallowed, looking down at his shoes.

"I mean...yeah, I guess." I shrugged awkwardly, putting the glove back on.

"How long have you been-"

"Uh, since last year. We met in college. He was doin' finance and Daddy actually put in a good word for him and he got his old job."

"He got your daddy's old job?" Arvin repeated.

"Yeah...yeah once uh...once he passed, they needed someone to fill his shoes so." I gulped.

Arvin stopped, "Your Dad passed? When?"

I chewed the inside of my lip, "Earlier this year."

"y/n, I am so, so sorry." He placed a hand on my arm.

"No, don't be silly. It's fine. He just never got well after he took a turn in Coal Creek." I said, beginning to walk again.

"I remember how sick he was..."

My chest fluttered. It was as if our past was an alternate universe. Like we never really lived it. It was just a different version of ourselves that did. Because now, we were here and it didn't feel the same. Not completely.

"So...should I ask how you ended up here?" I asked cautiously.

He tilted his head from side to side as if trying to figure an answer out himself.

"I don't think you'd like the details." He stated, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Did you..." I stopped, looking around us before lowering my voice.

"Did you do what you implied you would?" I asked, looking into his seemingly innocent eyes.

He inhaled some smoke and then exhaled, turning away for my sake.

"I did what I implied." He stated simply.

My stomach turned. I kept chewing my lip with nervousness, looking into his eyes. He didn't seem like a killer. He wasn't a bad person. I knew him. I knew who he was. And a murderer was not in his description.

I wanted to know about it. About him. I needed to know. So, impulsively - a word I hadn't used since our last night in Coal Creek - I invited him back with me.

"Would you come home with me? I live 15 minutes out of town and I'd really like to talk but I don't think a public park is appropriate." I said in a hushed tone.

He thought about it before nodding, "Sure."

The drive to my house was a little awkward. The radio played at a low hum while we sat in near silence, only the sound of the wind and other cars passing by filling the air.

"Used to be me drivin' you everywhere." Arvin commented with a chuckle.

I smiled, "Oh, how the tables have turned."

He laughed and so did I, then we resumed our mutual silence.

When we got to Will and I's estate, I drove through the gates of the house to the driveway where at the top, a large house sat - much like the one in Coal Creek.

"Our drivin' might've changed but this certainly hasn't." Arvin sighed, almost as if he was disappointed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged, "Feels all too familiar, that's all." He said before getting out the car.

I screwed my face up at his comment but decided to let it slide. I got out of the car and locked it before following Arvin who seemed as if he knew the place, up the steps of the porch.

"Is your fiancé home?" He asked the ground, hands in pockets.

I shook my head, "He's out of town for a weekend with work."

I stuck the key into the lock of the wide, white front door and opened it. I walked inside then held it open for Arvin.

He walked in and looked around, taking in his new surroundings.

The hallway was wide and white, only paintings filling the wall space and a large staircase to the left winded up to the next floor.

"Wow...I mean, you've done well for yourself." Arvin scoffed a laugh.

"Thank you." I smiled weakly, taking my hat from my head.

He looked up at the high ceilings, appreciating the chandelier that hung above the doorway.

"Come on through. Do you want tea? Coffee?" I offered, walking down the hallway and into the open kitchen/living room area while taking my gloves off.

He walked in behind me, looking around the new room he was in before following me into the kitchen.

"How about a scotch?" He asked with a smirk.

I smiled, "That'd be appropriate, I think."

I got the crystal decanter and two glasses from the tray that sat atop the kitchen table. I poured us two glasses and then handed Arvin one. I brought the decanter with us as we migrated to the couch.

I slipped my heels off before sitting down, my dress puffing and fanning out over my lap. Arvin sat opposite me, his ankle resting on his knee comfortably.

"So..." I started.

"So." He repeated.

"I think I might have more questions about you than you do about me." I smiled weakly.

He nodded, "Probably right."

I took a deep breath before asking any questions.

"Who got Lenora pregnant?" I asked.

I thought that would be a good starting point. It was what started everything.

"Reverend Teagardin. The new preacher that came to town." Arvin answered.

My eyes widened, "What?!"

"He took Lenora - and other girls - into the woods," Arvin began to explain.

He stared at the crystal in his hands and the liquid floating inside of it. He didn't once look up at me.

"He'd make them pray before they got started and he'd take advantage of them."

"Didn't he have-"

"A wife? Yeah. But he was abusin' her at home, too." He gulped.

"Oh my god. That's horrible." I sighed, my stomach feeling uneasy.

He finally looked up at me and I could feel his curiosity burn into me.

"Do you...do you still talk to Grandma?" He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

I smiled and nodded, "Yeah. I talked to her last week."

A slight smile grew on his face with relief, "How is she?"

"She's okay. She always talks about you and Lenora. Mostly you now, though. I mean, I never told her a thing about our last night and she still doesn't know about Lenora's pregnancy. She knows just as much as when you left."

He licked his teeth and nodded, "Thanks for keepin' in touch."

"Of course. I said I would, didn't I?" I grinned.

He nodded with a smile.

"So how about you? Livin' here in this big house with a big-shot fiance. Must be nice." He quirked his brow, taking a sip of his drink.

He was trying to pry something out of me, I could feel it.

"It's good. He takes care of me and we're happy." I stated.

"It's not boring?"

"No." I lied.

He tilted his head, "I can tell when you're lyin', y/n."

I scoffed, "You haven't seen me in five years and you think you can just come back here and tell me you know me so well? Don't start with that bullshit, Arvin."

He furrowed his brows, "Are you mad at me? What did I do?"

I rolled my eyes, "You don't know me, Arvin. So don't act like you do."

I sat my glass down and swiftly stood up from the couch. He did the same.

"I might not have seen you in years but I think I know you better than anyone on this planet. Am I right?" He asked, watching as I paced up and down in front of him.

I scoffed and shook my head.

"You're tellin' me that this guy- this guy - knows you better than I do?" Arvin lifted a picture of Will and I up to demonstrate.

"Yes. He does."

"Bullshit." He spat.

"You don't get to say shit like that Arvin. You know why?" I challenged, standing close to him with my hands on my hips.

"Why?" He retorted.

"Because you left! You left to murder someone! You'd have rather been a killer livin' with guilt for the rest of your life than to be with me." I shouted.

I didn't notice how close we were until he laughed and I could feel his familiar breath on my face.

"I had to do it. That preacher was no good. And neither was that cops sister and her dirt-bag husband." He snapped.

I blinked at him in confusion.

"Wh-what do you mean the cops sister and her husband?" I asked in a soft tone.

He looked away from me and gulped.

I gasped and held my hands over my mouth, "Did- did you-"

He grabbed and held my hands, "They were gonna kill me, y/n. They would take hitchhikers and murder them to take pictures with their dead bodies. I wasn't about to be the next one."

I widened my eyes, "They did what?!"

"And then I got caught out by the cop...his sister was the wife. He followed me to Knockemstiff and tried to shoot me with a shot gun. I had to, y/n. He was gonna kill me I-"

I could see the tears and the panic in his eyes. I just reached my hands up and wrapped them around his shoulders, bringing him into my arms. His face went into my neck and I could feel tears drip onto my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair.

"I'm a bad person, y/n. I killed four people..." He sniffed.

"Arvin, look at me." I tugged him from my neck and cupped his cheeks.

"You are not a bad person. You were just caught up in some twisted shit and you had no other way. You are a good person, Arvin." I said sincerely, feeling tears spring into my own eyes.

"I lost you because of it, though I just- I can't-" He cried.

"I know." I sniffled, feeling a tear drip down my face.

I looked at him; teary, eyes swollen and red, complexion pale. I didn't know what else to do.

"You're a good person, Arvin." I said again, leaning up on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

He hummed at my touch and I kissed his other cheek, "You did nothin' wrong."

I went back to his right cheek and kissed it again like I needed to feel his skin on my lips once more.

Just as I went to kiss his other cheek, he leaned forward and caught my lips with his instead.

I gasped, pulling away from his body and looking at him, touching my fingers over my lips.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're an engaged woman and I-"

I launched forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and crashing my lips to his. It took a second to make sure it was real. But as his hands slid effortlessly onto my waist, I knew.

"You're the love of my life, Arvin. You always have been and always will be." I whispered, pulling away briefly.

He stared into my eyes but didn't say a word. But I knew what he was thinking. He kissed me again, our lips moved over each other's with fervour and passion, the excitement and thrill of tasting each other again for the first time in years. In too long. He felt and tasted the same but more mature and wiser.

He pushed me back by my waist until my back hit the wall. I let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. He smirked against my lips before devouring me again. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth and I hummed, fully tasting him. My fingers ran through and tugged at his hair, and his hands ran up and down my sides and my back.

His touch felt nostalgic but euphoric and in the heat of the moment, everything was perfect.

"Your lips taste amazing," He said breathlessly between sloppy kisses.

"So do yours." I replied.

He wrapped his hands around my back and skilfully unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor in a pool around my ankles. I brought my hands to his shoulders as our kiss got heavier, teasing his suspenders before sliding them off his arms. I began unbuttoning his shirt in a hurried fashion as his lips started trailing down my jaw to my neck. I was finally able to push the fabric from his shoulders and then pulling his vest over his head.

And as his hands came down to my thighs to lift me up and around his torso, and as he carried me up and into my bedroom; I knew that he was it. He was the person I was destined to be with. He was the love of my life.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

5 years later

(Play ‘That Old Feeling’ by Doris Day now)

I placed the needle carefully onto the record and turned it up.

I walked through the house and got to the porch where I looked out and saw Arvin and Jack playing catch. I stood with a grin as my husband and 4 year old played enthusiastically - the old baseball still intact and very much in use.

I crouched down and placed the 2 year old who rested on my hip, onto the ground. She wobbled slightly but quickly got up and running. She made her way to the stairs which I quickly intervened and grabbed her hand to help her down onto the soil.

"Go get Daddy, Charlotte. Go!" I laughed, pointing to Arvin.

She squealed happily and ran towards her Dad, arms flailing clumsily as she sprinted. Arvin stopped the game of catch briefly as he saw his daughter coming towards him.

"Hey princess!" He grinned, crouching to his knees and grabbing his daughter.

He lifted her up and sat her on his knee, handing her the ball.

"Throw the ball to Jack, Charlotte!" Arvin prompted, pointing to the blonde haired boy who stood confidently.

She babbled a few words and then threw the ball onto the ground. At least she attempted. I whooped and clapped as I walked over.

"Good job, baby!" I praised in a baby voice.

Arvin stood up, letting Charlotte run around with her brother for a while, the dog joining them, enthusiastically bounding around them.

"Hey, handsome." I grinned as I reached Arvin.

"Hey, beautiful." He smiled.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me, tongue briefly slipping into my mouth. I hummed in surprise and pulled away.

"Careful, Arvin or you'll be makin' another one of those tonight." I giggled.

We stood side by side, an arm wrapped around each other's back as we watched Jack attempt to play catch with his sister.

"Why don't we make another one, then?" Arvin suggested.

I looked at him with raised brows, "If you want to push one out of your ass, then by all means let's do it."

He chuckled, "I'm serious, y/n."

I turned to face him and he wrapped his arms around my waist while I played with the bottom of his hair.

"Another baby girl or boy? With a dog?" I laughed.

"Yeah...I mean it's crazy but it's our crazy." He smirked.

"Hmm, depends how nice you treat me tonight." I bit my lip.

He held back a shit-eating grin, "Oh...you're so gettin' knocked up tonight."

I gasped, smacking his chest with a laugh.

"I love you." He smiled.

"I love you, too."

"Forever?" He quipped.

"And ever." I smiled.

And we meant it.

A/N: oh my god. that's the mini-series done! i loved writing for Arvin it was fun with the southern dialogue and the 60s time period! i hope you all enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing. If you'd like to request any one shots, head over to my instagram @tomholland1510 to request!

ALSO!! bonus points to anyone who understands the easter eggs in the kids' names! do they seem familiar? ;)

{Tags: @notandordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy}

#arvin russel #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mini series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #arvin russel fic #one shot #imagine #tom holland imagine #arvin russel imagine

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libra-kirishima · 4 years ago

Text

Three Times All Might Kept Izuku From Losing His Virginity and the One Time He Didn't (Midoriya Izuku x Reader)

Day 13: Corruption/Loss of Virginity

(Hell of a title...)

Reader is All Might's daughter.

This was also originally just the ns/fw scene which I wanted to add more to.

NS/FW Content Warning (loss of virginity, a bit of femdom)

The sound of the doorbell ringing caused your heart to leap out of your chest.

Panic set in as you wrapped your wet body in a towel before rushing down the stairs to the front door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!” You shouted as you made your way down the stairs, through the living room, and into the foyer. “Did you forget your keys again?- Oh.” Your eyes were met not with your father, but Izuku. Green eyes looked your form up and down quickly. Soon after, a fiery blush spread across his face and down his neck. “Hey, Izuku.”

“Hi, (Y/N).” His eyes shifted to keep from staring at you. “I’m, um, here to see All Might.”

“Dad’s not here right now.” Tension formed in Izuku’s shoulders once those words left your lips. He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or grateful. “He’s still at the school, I think. Although he did mention swinging by the store to pick up groceries on his way home, so he could be closer than you think.” Your words sort of fell on deaf ears. Izuku was so consumed by his thoughts of you that he caught maybe every third or fourth word you said. “Come in. Please. Make yourself at home.” You stepped aside to let him in.

“Oh, I shouldn’t.” He answered, though it came out as more of a mumble. He tried and failed to conceal how excited and nervous it made him to think about being alone with you. When you grabbed his hand to lead him inside he gladly went along, lacing his fingers into yours as you pulled him along.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He won’t mind, and neither do I. Have a seat.”

He timidly sat down at the far end of your couch. You smiled kindly at him as you stood in front of him, moving directly between his open knees. Izuku swore up and down that you were trying to kill him. “Besides, I hardly get to see you anymore. You’ve been so busy.” You cupped his burning cheeks in both your hands. It took all of his strength just to look you in the eye. “I’ve been so lonely. I miss seeing you all the time.” You cooed. “I’ll be back. M’kay? Don’t go anywhere.”

You dashed back up the stairs to change, leaving Izuku alone with his thoughts.

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.” He mumbled to himself. “This is not how you should think of your mentor’s daughter!” No matter how hard he tried to push his thoughts of you out of his head, your words still rang like a bell.

I’ve been so lonely. I miss seeing you.

He could still feel the cool touch of your hands on his flushed cheeks. Part of him wondered if things could be different were you not All Might’s daughter. If you were any other girl, he wonders if he could hold you in his arms at night, knowing that he could call you his own. Feeling the love in your eyes and knowing that he was the only man you felt that way about.

“Stop thinking about it!”

“Stop thinking about what, Izuku?”

“Nothing!”

You shot him a confused look, but shrugged and left it at that.

“Alright.” You moved back towards him, taking a seat right beside him. You knew he was trying to keep his distance from you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “See any good movies lately?”

He shook his head hurriedly. You shrugged your shoulders again and resumed watching a docuseries about sea creatures. It was this time while you were distracted that Izuku allowed himself to look at you.

He swears you were trying to kill him. You wore nothing but a bra and pajama shorts, with a flannel loosely hanging off your shoulders covering you barely at all. Arguably less covered than you were in that towel.

You turned back and met his stare with a wide smile. The embarrassment on his face filled you with an odd sense of pride. When he looked away in shame, you smirked.

“Get comfortable.” You encouraged, curling yourself into his side. “You seem so stiff.” One hand reached across his chest to to rub his shoulders. “Think of this place as your house too.” The hand on his shoulder slid up his neck to his cup his jaw again. He leaned into your touch when you used your thumb to stroke his still burning cheek. “My dad says you’re practically his son anyways.” You giggled.

Your laugh was the sweetest sound in the world to him. You were working some kind of magic on him that he couldn’t describe. He was staring again. Equal parts wonder and shame. The implications of his mentor thinking of him as a son while Izuku had fallen for his daugher loomed over him. He could push them aside for a while. “What’s wrong Izuku?” You followed the direction of his stare down to your breasts.

Oh...

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen boobs before.” You added with a small laugh.

“I- uh-”

You cut him off with a gasp.

“You haven’t?”

He shook his head.

“No way!”

Unsure of what to say, he shook his head again.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe- don’t you live in a dorm full of girls?” You asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“It’s actually mostly boys. There are only six girls in my class.” He answered. He missed the root of your question, but you were too intrigued to care.

“I thought you and the little brown-haired girl were a thing.”

“That didn’t really work out.” He admitted shamefully.

“Oh?” You knew you were probing, but couldn’t help enjoying how flustered he got. “Why not?”

“Both of our feelings got... complicated. There was someone else. It kind of drove a wedge between us...”

“Hm...” Your full interest was on him. “Have you even made it to first base?”

Your tone wasn’t condescending or snarky. It was warm and inviting. Smooth like velvet with a charm that made him want to tell you everything without question.

“No.” He answered. Part of him wondered if he should have lied to impress you. He probably would have if he stopped speaking without thinking first. “Not because I don’t want to, I’m just-”

“Scared?”

He chose to respond with silence. You gave him a signature sweet smile.

Just where you wanted him.

“You don’t have to be scared with me, Izuku.” You cooed. “I’ll help you.” You shifted so your breasts pressed right up against his chest. “If you want...”

While his brain was still trying to process what you were offering him, you pushed yourself up to kiss him.

Quick. Chaste. A soft peck to serve as just enough to leave him craving more.

Izuku was stunned into silence, but his strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him. ”I- I’m- I, uh,” He stammered, desperately hoping that the logical part of his brain would return and remind him how wrong it was to form a relationship with his mentor’s daughter behind his back. How if he got caught, he might never be forgiven. He mumbled a weak “We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t-”

“Izuku...” Your body moved to fully straddle his waist. Your other hand reached up to cup the other side of his jaw. “Kiss me.”

Rational part of his brain be damned. What All Might doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He reasoned with himself. It took no time at all for him to melt into the taste of your lips and the feel of your skin. The feeling of your hands in his hair made him regret not bending to your will immediately.

The hand in his hair tugged at the locks, evoking a whine from his lips and establishing yourself as the one in control. “Lay back.” You mumbled against his lips. He didn’t hesitate for a second to shift himself so he was laying horizontally on your couch while keeping you tight over his waist. One of your arms pulled one of his from around your waist and pinned it above his head, lacing his fingers in yours. An oddly tender gesture considering how determined you were to ravage him.

Just as he felt confident enough to slide his free hand from your waist down to your ass, you pulled away. Once you both heard the sound of keys jangling in the door from the foyer, you both scrambled apart and tried to look unassuming.

“Dad! Izuku is here!” You called before rushing off to help him with his groceries.

You turned back to Izuku and shot him a wink before leaving the room.

That familiar warmth rose to his cheeks again. A feeling he would quickly start to associate with you.

II.

The shadow of the Heights Alliance building loomed heavy over your head.

Before knocking on the door you took a deep breath and hoped he was home.

You rapped your knuckles against the door, and after what felt like an eternity the door opened a crack. Three heads popped out from the small opening, one of which was a pretty girl with pink hair.

Before you could speak a word, a voice called your name from behind. You turned your head towards the source, and your eyes were met with brilliant emerald green.

Izuku was sweaty and tired, clearly returning from training with a tall blue haired man in tow.

“Izuku!” You pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was looking for my dad and I got lost.” You lied.

“I think All Mi-” He stopped and shook his head, hoping to play off the panicked glare you gave him at the mention of who your father was. “I think all my teachers are in a meeting.” He corrected himself.

“Yes! Mr. Aizawa mentioned a staff meeting taking place this afternoon for the first year teachers.” The blue haired man added.

“Oh, what a pity.” You pouted softly. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. Apologies for not introducing myself sooner.”

“Iida Tenya. Pleasure to meet you. I take it your father works here?”

“He does, yes. He’s a first year teacher.” You answered with a kind smile and flirtatious eyes. Before your conversation could continue any further, you felt an arm pulling you to the side and the sound of Izuku’s voice mutter “You can come in if you’d like.” You waved goodbye to Izuku’s friend and followed him inside.

He spared you of introductions to his other classmates and pulled you up to his room. You had been there once before, when the walls were still bare and he had just moved in. The room was now undoubtedly his. Uniquely Izuku.

"Sorry, I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Mhm?" You smirked.

"What?"

"Are you sure?" You took a seat at the edge of his bed and giggled when he shot you a quizzical look. You patted the space beside you for him to sit, and he did. "I feel like that's not the whole story. What, with the way your eyes were burning into me while I talked to your friend and all." His expression turned anxious. The panic in his eyes vanished as soon as it came, hoping you wouldn't notice. "I think you were jealous."

"No, I- I'm not- I-" He stammered.

"So you are jealous!"

"I'm not jealous of Iida. He's my friend-"

"Seems a little bit like you are. Unless you brought me up here for another reason?"

"You're safer with me than anyone else in my class while you wait for All Might-"

"Because I'm in so much danger with a class of pro heroes in training..." You drawled.

Based on the way he clenched his fists into the comforter beneath him, Izuku was getting worked up in just the way you intended. Better put him out of his misery sooner rather than later.

Before he could speak another word, you reached over to press a kiss to his lips. Slow and sweet, but still entirely too short for Izuku's tastes. "I think you just wanted to get me alone again." His face flushed cherry red at your accusation, but made no move to deny it. You kissed him again. "Well I think we're alone now."

He was at a loss for words. Thoughts of you took over every corner of his mind and left him unable to form full sentences.

You placed a cool hand on his warm cheek and tilted his head to look you in the eye. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Kiss me."

And he did.

A little uneasy at first, but you gladly took that as an invitation to take control again. Once again, you tugged at his hair to inform him who's in charge.

You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and he soon found himself addicted to the taste of your lips. It was obvious that he didn't know what to do with his hands. You moved to straddle his thighs, breaking the kiss to grab his hands in your own.

"(Y/N), I-"

"Shh..."

You moved his hands up to your clothed chest, resuming the kiss once you felt his hands root themselves there. "Don't be afraid, Zuzu." You assured him. "I don't bite... Unless you want me to."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, my sweet innocent boy." You cooed, hands returning to cup his jaw. "You know, I'd love to show you, but... Can I be honest with you?"

He nodded frantically.

"Um... This is kind of weird but it feels like my dad is watching me corrupt his successor through these posters and I can feel his disappointment from the walls of your dorm..."

III.

Soft kisses trailed down the column of Izuku's throat until you stopped at his collarbone. His eyes opened in confusion until he felt you nip at the skin there, and soon after soothe the bite with your tongue. He wasn't sure what to make of the feeling until you did it again on the soft skin of his shoulder. When you bit at the meeting point between his neck and his shoulder, he let out a small moan.

"Is this what you meant by biting?" He asked curiously. You chuckled against his pulse.

"Mhm." You answered before tilting his head a bit further and sucking a dark bruise into the skin there. Your hands undid the last button of his uniform shirt and pulled it off his broad shoulders.

Once his shirt was off, your hands drifted lower and lower down his skin until they reached his belt buckle. His heart stopped beating in his chest when your cool hands passed his naval. "Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm just-"

"Scared?" You asked. He gulped. You could feel his hands starting to sweat. "I told you, Zuzu, you don't have to be scared with me. Just sit back. Relax."

You pressed soft kisses to his lips as you undid his belt buckle and pulled his aching cock out of his pants. You pulled away to look at him while your hand started stroking up and down his length, using your thumb to smear the precum at the head.

The sight before you was addicting. Absolutely immaculate. You watched his innocence melt away with each stroke. The hungry look in his eyes told you that didn't know how to handle what he was feeling, but begged for more of it.

He felt himself on the brink of orgasm when you heard the front door open. All Might's voice called to you, announcing that he was home.

"Fuck."

Once again, you scrambled to put yourselves back together before you were caught. You kissed him sofly before calling "Hey! Izuku is here for you!" You took his hand and pulled him out of your bedroom, right as your father climbed up the stairs. "I wanted to show him the sad clown painting I bought at the thrift store."

Izuku would be concerned with how good you are at lying, if it wasn't something that worked in his favor.

Ding-Dong

"I'll get it!" You called, racing down the stairs. Your dad answered the door first anyways. "Ugh."

"Young Midoriya!" You heard from the foyer. "I wasn't expecting to see you here-"

"Oh, he's not here for you, he's here for me." You added, stumbling into the room in your heels. "I'm his prom date."

"Oh."

"I told you about this."

"You didn't tell me Young Midoriya would be accompanying you."

"Must've slipped." You shrugged. "Sorry, daddy." You wrapped your arms around Izuku. Besides, isn't it better Izuku than another boy in his class?" You didn't give him the chance to answer before you were ushering Izuku out the door while muttering rushed goodbyes to your father. "Bye dad! I love you. I'll be back... Eventually."

Once you slipped out and shut the door, you shot Izuku a familiar look. He knew at the start of the night that you intended to ravage him. You quickly concealed the look with a kind smile and a bat of your lashes. The perfectly innocent girl everyone thought you to be.

"Let's go?"

"Yeah," Izuku sighed. "Let's go."

The train ride back to U.A. was agonizingly long. Your hand rested on his thigh, just high enough to make him nervous. He couldn't tell if he wanted you to stop or if he wanted more.

Despite the agonizing pace of the trip there, the dance itself seemed to pass him entirely. The last thing he remembered was taking pictures to send his mom before you kissed his lips and pulled him off to the side.

"Look at you, taking initiative, I'm so proud of you." You teased. Your shoe had snapped at the heel moments ago. Izuku lifted you up in response and carried you away from the dance, but where you weren't sure. That was until you recognized the area surrounding his dorm from the darkness. You looked back at his face and cupped his cheek, just as you had a thousand times before. He had to fight off his own urge to look you in the eye. If he met your gaze, he was sure his heart would stop. And he was too protective of you to drop you. Instead he holds you closer to his chest and asks you

"Did you plan this?"

"No." You giggled, burying your face into his neck. "Did you?"

"Not your shoe breaking." He admitted.

You kept yourself busy by pressing soft kisses to the skin of his neck. His blush was so rosy that you could see it even in the dark.

You caught the eye of the brown haired girl you thought was Izuku's crush, with her lips locked on those of a pretty girl in a suit that you recognized from the third year class.

"Oh, that's why things didn't work out."

"Part of it, but I'm not too upset about it anymore." He muttered, rushing you into the elevator and up to his room. "Besides, she helped me prepare. So I really owe her one."

"Prepare what?" You asked. He said nothing as he fumbled with the door to his dorm. He entered without turning the lights on and just stood there, holding you closely with your legs wrapped around his waist. "You can put me down now."

"Oh, sorry." He kissed your lips softly before releasing your thighs. You hit his mattress with a soft thud. Izuku stripped himself of his suit jacket, trying to hold himself back from looking your way. He knew you were watching. The innocent façade was long gone, leaving the girl Izuku has come to know in its place.

"Prepare what?" You asked again.

"Oh! I want to show you something." He moved frantically across his room before you could say anything, stumbling over a pair of his shoes on the way. He flicked the light switch on to reveal a setting completely different from what you were expecting. The walls were draped with dark fabric. Sheets, you presumed. Christmas lights were hung up around his room with push pins, casting a warm, dim glow in the room. He sat beside you on his bed as he spoke.

"I wanted you to feel comfortable." He admitted. When you met his eye you almost burst into tears. He watched you with all the love in the world. To Izuku, you held the stars in the sky. You were the reason the sun shines and the rain falls.

He loved you already and he'd show you every day until he was confident enough to tell you.

"Izuku..." You looked around at how pretty everything looked, amazed that he did this all for you. "Izuku, I-" You started, but you were completely at a loss for words.

"Too much?" He asked nervously.

"No! You didn't have to do this all for me." You swallowed your emotions and looked back at his nervous expression.

"I'm gonna ruin you." You told him in the sweetest softest voice he's ever heard. You moved to pounce on him, but he stopped you before you could take things any further.

"Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?"

"Oh..." You laughed softly and he stared to panic again. "I thought I was already your girlfriend." You admitted. "I was actually going to ask if you thought we should tell my dad about our relationship when you took me home." Izuku buried his face in his hands.

"Yeah we probably should."

You smiled softly as you undid the buttons of his shirt.

"You can go back to what you were doing now," He assured you. "Girlfriend."

"Good to hear." You said against the skin of his neck before leaving a purple bruise there. "Anyways, boyfriend," You tugged your dress off before fully straddling his waist. "I'm gonna ruin you."

#precursor to my ''all might has an american daughter'' fic idea but some things are different #i should rlly come back to that #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia #bnha smut #ns/fw

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embrassemoi · 4 years ago

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 17

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors A/N: slight head-hopping

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 17: The Stalking Map

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January 31st, 1976 | 11:30 pm

“Move your arse over!” Lily whispered. Moments after the lights went out, she crawled out of bed, her silky nightgown dragged across the floor as she walked over to Y/N. In one hand, she held a pillow, the other, Toulouse.

Y/N giggled, scooting over. “Can't get enough of me?”

“Hush! You know what I mean,” she blushed. Lily slipped in, the bed dipped as she wiggled around, making herself comfortable. But the small size didn’t help as they were slightly cramped together, leaving little space for either girl to move. Y/N made a note to herself to charm her bed so it’d be larger.

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February 2nd, 1976 | 12:23 am

“You really shouldn’t cram studying like this.”

A candle burned brightly inside their closed curtain drapes as Y/N continued to stress over an upcoming test.

“You’re smart — but you’re lucky if you manage a troll.”

“Be anymore encouraging, will you?” Y/N muttered out sarcastically.

Lily rolled her eyes, getting up from her pretzel seated position as her hand reached out, disappearing beyond the curtain drapes. Leaning over and supporting herself by gripping the bed frame, she grabbed a coffee pot and two teacups, pouring a steaming amount into each. She handed her one, Lily’s eyes squinted, her tongue poking out in thought before beginning. “So, five birds will be ejected from the wand with a blue light…”

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February 4th, 1976 | 1:12 am

They stared at each other for a moment before Lily’s mouth twitched upwards. The silence only lasted for a few beats before they both erupted into roaring laughter so strong that they had to lean into each other to prevent themselves from rolling off the bed.

“No. You. Didn’t!” Y/N exclaimed.

“What was I supposed to do? Not punch him?!” “Precisely!”

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February 5th, 1976 | 10:59 pm

Lily danced, jumping around on her bed. Her bright hair bounced around wildly whilst Y/N held her wand, pretending it was a microphone. One earbud was in Lily’s ear, the other in hers.

‘Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted!’ They mouthed to each other, despite there being a silencing spell around Lily’s bed.

‘Blue since the day we parted,

Why? Why? Did I ever let you go?

Mamma Mia now I really know!’

Y/N took her hands, pretending to play chords as if she were in front of an actual piano, mimicking the erratic backtrack. Lily shook with laughter before she slowly sank onto the bed as her hair sprawled out.

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February 9th, 1976 | 12:17 am

“Ginger —”

“I consider that harassment and bullying. Do you know how many detentions I can give you?”

“Haha — ginger.”

“Ten points from Gryff —” “No —” “TWENTY POINTS FROM —” “I’M SORRY!”

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February 11th, 1976 | 1:37 am

“What do you wanna know?” She whispered.

Speckles of starlight slipping through the cracks of their drapes. Lily, for whatever reason, seemed restless. It always seemed like whenever it was extremely early in the morning, there was a change in Lily’s demeanour.

Lily averted her gaze, biting her bottom lip, “Tell me a secret.”

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February 12th, 1976

After almost two weeks of their almost nightly rendezvous, they’d gotten closer than they have in the past six months and it seemed like Lily knew her better than she did at times.

Lily was practically bouncing off the walls. Every day, she seemed to become more radiant, happier, bubblier and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what caused such a spike in her mood.

The redhead wove their way out of the bustling crowd, her arm linked with Y/N’s. She’d caught a few times, Lily looking at her every now and then before she seemed to stare for a little longer than what was considered polite. She’d forced a cough, fiddling with a strand of hair with her free hand; looking everywhere — or at anything, but her.

Sometimes Y/N felt and sounded like a broken record.

Repeating her thoughts over and over again, analyzing herself and the people around her; overthinking causing loads of unanswered questions… It was a problem that she didn’t know how to switch off.

Sometimes, it’d become too overwhelming, even to the point of tears in frustration and the constant overthinking. It would start with a flicker of interest, morphing into a spiral of questions, then irritation before spreading through her veins like a wildfire, spiking with anxiousness or fury. But recently, her over-thinking wasn’t necessarily overwhelming or maddening, this time it was purely curious. It was as if she blinked an eye; suddenly Lily would be acting fine — normal to becoming strange and skittish within mere seconds.

Perhaps it was stress?

February began and the workload for the OWLs was beginning to wear down on everyone. To be dramatic, every day became a blur, all merging into one blob: wake up, head down to the hall, class, lunch, class, study — then become too overwhelmed from studying and have the urge to cry or yell, dinner, study more, then sleep. With hardly any time to retain the information and the OWLs set to start late May, Y/N’s main goal was to memorize every bit of information rather than learn what it meant; that was for another time.

Whenever the fifth or seventh years weren’t in class, they were studying in the library, the hallways, even at dinner or lunch. It was so busy that the Marauders made it a point to swing by — even Mary and Marlene were becoming frequent visitors too. Mostly, they studied, but other times it ended with Lily constantly threatening James with detention (which he already received one and lost around forty house points after starting a small fire — which nobody knew how it even happened), Peter brought baked goods but ended up spilling a cup of tea over his notes and robes; Sirius and Marlene often mucked around while Y/N and Remus begun migrating to the common room after Pince threatened to throw them all out (and honestly, they were tired with everyone else’s shit).

And it had been taking a toll on Lily. She’d lost sleep and was slightly more agitated when it came to those around her and overall seemed to become quieter than usual.

Yeah, it was probably stress, but it didn’t answer her happy mood. Whatever it was, it looked good on her.

That day, they decided to eat lunch away from the Great Hall. They sat on a nearby window ledge, watching students idly as they passed back and forth, all having their own little lives. Y/N’s back was pressed against the window, her knees bunched together as Lily guessed the lives of people around them.

Young students, old students, some smiling, some frowning. Usually, Hogwarts was almost too overbearing. The swarm of bodies clung together like magnets, hard to separate, hard to pull yourself away from because soon enough, you’ll be roped into another set of magnets. While Hogwarts had been smaller in size and population compared to Ilvermorny, you could never catch a break here.

But, in times like these, they were able to come down from the high. It was fascinating and oddly calm; the noise, the chatter, it all became background noise.

And like a magician, Remus popped out, walking towards them. Lily waved Remus down, inviting him to sit with them. Although, Peter wasn’t that far behind as he came bouncing up behind. A few people waved to him, he’d even stopped a few times to catch up with a few students that passed.

Remus took the free seat next to Y/N, Peter next to Lily.

“Bloody cold here,” Peter said, rubbing his shoulder up and down, handing each girl a muffin before Remus, but he declined, waving around a small bag of blackberries.

Lily and Peter quickly fell into a conversation while she and Remus turned to talk. His leg brushed against hers before ripping away quickly. Even with just the slightest touch, Remus was a furnace. Y/N quickly looked up to him, their eyes meeting shortly. Her eyebrow curled up at him, wondering why he was so warm; had he been sick? He didn’t look bad…

She hadn’t been spending that much time with him as of late, aside from the study groups. But he smiles broadly. There was a weariness on his face that seemed to have chased away immediately. “Noon.”

“Noon! How have you been?”

His smile turns even brighter, so much as he could rival the stars. There’s a certain playfulness in his eyes, devilishly and sly. He looks too eerily like James, but it only tells her that he’d come up with another prank recently.

“Great,” there is amusement in his voice, so smug, so confident. “Came up with a new prank idea.”

Bloody knew it, as he’d would say.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, let’s just say that there’s going to be a lot of dungbombs, Polyjuice potions and probably explosions.”

“Explosions?!”

“You’ll see.” Again, sounding so confident and smug. It put a smile on her face. “So what about you?”

Her mind racks around for a while; nothing much has happened recently; she’s stumped.

He considers her for a moment with a soft gaze, completely understanding. “We’re planning to mix in Polyjuice potion with pumpkin juice on Valentine's day at dinner. When the person drinks it; they should turn into who they fancy.”

“So where do the explosions come in?”

Remus gives a deep chuckle, “Now I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?”

But before she could make a witty retort, perhaps even convincing him to spill his deets, Peter calls out to Remus, pointing discreetly to a girl looking at them directly from the other side of the corridor. They all recognized her from the study group, a fourth year that comes on Wednesdays. She waved over to them — well, actually just at Remus as her other hand grasped an item behind her back.

He waves over, hesitantly getting up, “I’ll be back.

This wasn’t unusual — since he ran most of the fifth year groups, Remus constantly had younger students approach him in the halls. Although, they were all starstruck; after all, he was tall, a bit scary and a part of the oh so intimidating Marauders.

Their eyes were glued to his back as they watched the interaction play out. The girl tipped back and forth on her feet, swaying as she shyly looked up to him. She went on to a small monologue before pulling out a heart-shaped box of chocolates and holding it in front of herself.

Lily sucked in a sharp breath, a hand flying to her mouth to prevent giggling to seep out and the young girl overhearing, but it was out of entertainment rather than any malicious intent. Remus, however, did not look too phased, however, gave a pitiful smile, thanking the girl for her confession but letting her down softly. Within a second, the girl’s face contorted, her eyes swelling up with thick tears as she threw the chocolate box at Remu’s chest — but missed, scattering to the ground, as she bolted down the corridor.

“Blimey,” Peter breathed out, “That’s the third one this week. He’s going to beat Sirius for Valentine’s day confessions at this rate.”

“Well this is awkward,” Remus said, coming back to the group. He had picked up the box, an uncomfortable grimace on his face as he turned it around. Y/N looked up at him; he was flustered, unsure what to do. So, she patted his shoulder, gaining his attention and slid the box out of his hands and cracked it open; they were all sorts of different chocolate, milk, white, dark, truffles, shavings, even some had coconut while others were biscuits covered in it. It was intended for Valentine's day judging by the intricate and soft velvety packaging but she assumed that poor girl simply couldn’t refrain.

Yeah, she definitely should’ve waited — or not have said anything, but at least she had nerve. It felt like Y/N lacked the so-called Gryffindor trait often, so if anything, she applauded that fourth year.

The group looked at her oddly as Y/N shrugged, plopping a piece into her mouth. “What? Expensive chocolate is still expensive chocolate.”

She took the box, stretching her hand out, offering it to the group.

“Nu-uh,” Lily blurted, her wands waved out in front of her, “There’s no way I’m eating that.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you feel bad?! And that must be bad mojo! You broke her heart; why did you take the box?”

“Surely you saw her throw it at me! You didn’t expect me to throw it back at her?”

Lily stopped her scold, suppressing another fit of giggles before letting out a very loud snort. Y/N and Peter howled together at careless, ‘improper’ lady laughs that Lily usually didn’t make. Y/N liked the change, she seemed freer.

“Well, do you fancy anyone then?” Lily retorted as she composed herself.

Remus snorted too, scooted over to Y/N as she offered him the box. He nodded, grabbing a small bite-sized chocolate piece. He rubbed at his collarbone in a sheepish manner, cracking it which made Y/N and Peter's face scrunch up. “What do you think?”

“You should go and date around. Honestly, you have all these women at your feet and you’ve never gone on one.” Peter added.

“Yes, yes!” Lily urged, “Listen to him!”

“You guys care more about this than I do.”

If James and Sirius were the most popular students, James being goofy while Sirius was a playboy, and Peter had the most friends, Remus was definitely the most well-liked Marauder and the one with the coolest reputation; something that James was certainly jealous of. But the fact that he seemed oblivious to it, Y/N found hilarious and humbling, very unlike his friends.

His head shook. “Well then, what about you two. Do you fancy anyone?”

They both went red immediately. Peter bit the inside of his cheek before Y/N shoved the tray of chocolates his way; he grabbed a handful, eating them in complete silence. Lily, well, she went completely still, almost as if Remus had shot a spell at her. She coughed, looking away uncomfortably as a nervous chuckle embedded its way out.

Y/N��s eyes widened and she and Remus immediately whipped their heads to look at each other. Their mouths gaped, closing and opening like goldfish. Both of their minds reeled, thinking about the same thing. Remus snapped his head back to Lily, his finger pointing at her. “Godric! You do!”

“I-I do not! I don’t fancy anyone!”

“Spill! What’s he like?” Remus asked. They kept probing her for questions, in hope of an answer but she wouldn’t budge.

“Is it Potter?!” Peter asked, his happy mood dimming but he forced a chipperly grin.

Remus was choking on air itself, “You’re taking the piss!”

They all looked at her in burning anticipation. If it was true, James was going to have a field day. Lily’s eyes widened, reaching over to grab the lid of the chocolate box and wacked Peter with it.

They were a mess of giggles, particularly Remus and Y/N who watched Lily berate Peter for the sheer mention of James. They basked in the safe feeling of the sunlight on their skin, the warmth spreading through them and rivalled the bitter chill.

As more laughter erupted, memories created, chocolate eaten, the bell eventually rang. Lily parted off with Marlene and Peter, both in the small class, as Y/N joined Remus.

“You think it’s Potter? Can’t be, can it?”

“I think he’d cry if it was.”

“Truly, he’d go mental.”

“Or maybe Lily’s gone mad.”

Remus shrugged, a smirk tugged at his lips, “Perfect match then.”

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Y/N slumped over her textbooks, watching as Bowie the Bowtruckle climbed into her hand. She hardly paid attention to what Kettleburn droned about.

“Alright! My pupils, listen up; next week, we’re starting a group project for the OWLs. But, I will be the one assigning the partners — oh don’t give me those faces! I have picked your partner based on grades and strengths. Ultimately you will both work together on hatching a Puffskein and care for it. It will be ongoing alongside the rest of your OWL studies and other projects I will assign.

“You will be graded on the overall health and happiness of your Puffskeins. We have gone over their care for a while and I think we’re ready to start. Remember to refer back to your books and do not hesitate to ask me. I have all your equipment ready to go next week.”

Kettleburn coughed, unfurling a piece of parchment with what the class assumed was a list of names.

“To start, Dorcas Meadowes and Lucinda Talkalot —”

Great.

Kettleburn continued to list name after name. Y/N brought a finger to Bowie, letting him touch her gently.

“ — Crabble and Evan Rosier.

“Amita Patil and Edmud Brown.

“Sirius Black and Y/N L/N.

“Susan Chang and Agnes —”

Wait.

Her eyes widened, sharply turning to Sirius who already stared back. Both of their mouths were agape. She hadn’t heard wrong.

“Now, don't ask me to change partners. I will do no such thing. We'll talk more about this next week. Class is dismissed — don’t forget about your paper due on Tuesday!”

Y/N watched as the class got up from their seats, her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Quickly, she stood, walking to the door and pushed the assignment quickly out of her head. But once reaching the door, a Slytherin knocked into her. His hands were pushed out, causing her books and notes to sprawl over the floor as he scoffed down.

“Sorry,” she groans out, “I didn’t mean —”

“Watch where you’re going, stupid Muggle.” With a sharp turn, Crabble walked away with a nasty smile.

Sirius had seen the entire ordeal go down, finding himself stuck at a crossroad; it took all the effort in the world to prevent himself from walking straight up to the boy, hexing him beyond belief, but casting a glance at her, struggling to process what just happened caused him to reassess his thoughts. Instead, he took a deep inhale, noting to himself to take care of that later, and strode towards her, dropping down as he picked up her books, shoving them neatly into her bag while collecting any loose sheet of parchment.

“You okay?” He asked with a voice so gentle it could have been mistaken for a whisper. He turned his head upwards to look at her.

Her eyes were foggy, a faraway look in them, completely in shock.

Sirius wasn’t sure what compelled him to, but his hand reached over, picking up her hand delicately in reassurance. His thumb stroked over her soft skin and helped to pull her to her feet.

The touch broke Y/N out of her daze; the physical contact caused both students to have a fuzzy, odd feeling settling at the pit of their stomachs.

His touch was so soft, so gentle despite his eyes brimming with rage that almost seemed feral.

But, she hardly noticed it as she nodded weakly, jaw clenched. Her mind reeled, attempting to process her emotions — completely baffled and shocked. It was so sudden she felt like she hadn’t had time to digest the situation. Muggle… the Slytherin used it in such a derogatory manner. A word meant to simply describe her sounded bitter — disgusting and low.

Sirius pulled back quickly, the hand flying straight up to his hair. A thought passed through his head, he wanted to reach out again, but he squashed it for more important manners.

“Are you okay?” He repeated.

“Why are you helping me?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. It was the only coherent thought she had at the moment. Sirius out of all people should be laughing at her, shouldn’t he? Being a Pureblood and all…

The comment and the way her eyes judged him quickly told him all he needed to know. A panged sigh went through him.

“Look,” Sirius grew stiff, “I —” he paused, “I may not particularly like you, but I don’t like blood purist arseholes who push women more.”

With another once over, Sirius checked for any scratches or injuries before calming down. “I can take you to the Hospital Wing. It was a nasty fall.”

She shook her head again. The last thing she wanted was for them to get along only out of pity. Sirius understood, handing over her bag and walked away. She watched as his hand clutched the straps of his bag; his grip was so tight that his knuckles were white. His other hand, the one that he touched her with, flexed several times before curling into a fist.

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Currently, she sat by the window ledge in the common room, writing a letter to her mother. Although, her mother hadn't responded to her letters since December. In fact, her mother had only responded to two of her letters throughout her stay; about six months. It made Y/N bitterly press her lips into a thin line. For once, it’d feel nice for her own mother to prioritize her, to make her feel more important than her work.

Blood-red silk curtains nearly swallowed her whole, letting in the little light from the stars outside. The fireplace and chandelier were lit and she could scarcely make out the familiar figure of messy hair, two tufts sticking out like always, swinging an arm over her shoulders. He whined, “Oi! Evans has been stealing you! I feel like I’ve hardly talked to you the past week!”

“Jealous much?”

“Of course,” he said sarcastically, “Anyway, I, the James Potter, your best friend —" "Right." "— am inviting you on a prank. In or out?”

“In,” she said without hesitation. After the Muggle situation, she would do anything to get it out of her head, even for just a few hours. She immediately got up from her seat, walking out the portrait hole. James threw his invisibility cloak over them.

“What are we doing? Is it Remus’ prank we’re doing now?”

James turned to her, his eyebrows deep in confusion. “He told you about that? He hardly tells us before the day of the execution. Anyway, anything you want.”

“Anything I want? What about your boy band?”

He looked over to her in confusion, sliding out a small bag filled with both of their favourite snacks, tossing it to her. “Not coming, just us. Although Remus is on patrol tonight and his mini-gift to you — or er — us, he’s making sure that the Gryffindor and Slytherin floors are cleared from teachers. Should go off without a hitch. So, I’ll ask you again, what do you have in mind?”

“Pranking the Slytherins,” she said without a pause which caused James to grin.

“Atta girl! Learning from the best!”

The prank itself was small in comparison to the prank she helped with on Halloween. Y/N decided on having the prank in the Great Hall for everyone to see. James produced about a dozen dungbombs from his bag, setting it under the Slytherin table and placing a timer on it, ready to be set off in the morning.

But she insisted on the one Slytherin from earlier. Crabble, was it? She asked James to help her give him a little bit more misery than the others. They placed a dozen hexes and jinxes on his usual seat: hair lost jinx, jelly legs, horn tongue hex, Engorgio, twitchy ears, bedazzling hex —

Right now was not the time for Y/N to forgive and forget — revenge was beautiful, fulfilling; she couldn’t wait.

But, their only downfall was that they weren’t on the floors Remus had cleared out for them. So when Mrs. Norris came up to them, only to dash out of the hall, it caused the two pranksters to finalize their escapade before James grabbed her hand and fled the scene.

They ran throughout the empty corridors as the clicking of their shoes echoed throughout the corridor. They were both laughing, smiling brightly. They ran past the Bloody Baron and Nearly Headless Nick, woke up most of the portraits before they heard the vague sound of Filch’s screaming.

“COME BACK HERE!”

“YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO CATCH US!” Y/N shouted, which had James snickering.

He whipped his head around and placed two hands around his mouth to make his statement louder, “YOU MUST BE LOOKING FOR A GALLEON, EH?! RENT BOY!”

After an abundance of sharp twists and turns, passing by countless hallways and secret tunnels, James seized a blank piece of parchment from his back pocket. He muttered a few words, opening it and ran down another set of corridors, through a tunnel and outside of the castle.

“What are you doing?!”

“Just trust me!”

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation: Y/N had grown to trust James a long time ago.

They ducked under an overhead from the castle, far away from Filch. Their ragged breaths filled the air before Y/N snatched the parchment from James’ grasp. “What is this?”

A panicked look flashes through James before he reaches over, trying to pry it from her grasp.

“Nu-uh!” She waved in front of her.

He sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to get it back and that lying was the worst possible option. “You can’t tell anyone — my chaps will have my head if you do —”

“Who do you think I am?! Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes at her guilt tripping, “It’s a map we all created — er — Moony was the one to create it. He came up with it and did most of the work. Anyway, it tells us where everything and everyone is at every minute of the day.”

On the front, it read in maroon colours of the boy’s code names, Moony at the very front.

Moony — Remus… always a surprise.

James opened it, flicking it open as he pointed to a pair of animated footprints sprinted around the page hurriedly; Filch's name appearing overhead. His name travelled across the paper at a fast pace, running and zigzagging down the halls in the opposite direction. And by the looks of it, Peeves was following him. Above, they could see Remus’ name close to where they used to be, his name moving quickly in what both assumed was him trying to look for them. He must’ve heard the screaming.

It truly was amazing their little map. She marvelled at the classrooms, every hallway, every inch of ground that covered the surrounding area. Passageways, hallways, doors and abandoned classrooms were all there. Although, a few areas were missing. She noticed how the little nook underneath the tapestry nor a large plot of land close to the left-wing of the castle had yet to be mapped out.

“I proudly present the Marauder’s map.” James boasts.

Her face scrunched up, “You mean the stalking map — perv.”

James faked an offended expression, a hand came to clutch his heart. “I was raised to be a gentleman!”

“Sure thing.”

He was about to make another joke before his face slowly fell upon realization, “Wait, really? Is that why Lily doesn’t like me?” He tugged down on his hair in distress, his eyes looking as if they were to pop out any second. “Do women think I’m perving around?!”

Y/N chortled, prying the map from his hands and slipped back into the castle while having a panicked James follow, completely freaking out in the background, spurting out concern after concern.

She followed the map, walking over to Remus who stood underneath a large painting. He escorted them back to the common room to prevent them from getting any possible detentions and not needing the invisibility cloak. But James continued to babble on about his (alleged and false) creepy behaviour, his emotions spiking while Remus watched the two.

“Okay,�� he sighed, observing James have a meltdown as he clung to Y/N’s arm, spewing apologies if he had ever crossed a line. “What did you do? You broke him.”

"Nothing.”

He didn’t question it but his nostrils flared as he attempted to press his lips in a thin line, his face going as red as Lily’s hair.

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potter-imagines · 4 years ago

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Sunday Morning (George Weasley)

Pairing: George Weasley x reader (y/n)

Prompt: George and Y/n have been dating for sometime now but hardly anyone in Hogwarts knows much about the couple. Everyone loves to make assumptions and imagine what it’s like but only the two of them truly know how wonderful it is.

Disclaimer: if you consider making out and kissing light smut, then this would be light smut lol also I will be posting more Tuesday from previous request !!

Warning: implied smut, mainly fluffy

Word Count: 4.9k

No student in their right mind enjoyed waking up before noon on a Sunday morning at Hogwarts. Saturdays were reserved for Quidditch matches, late night parties, trouble, and day trips to Hogsmeade. Sundays were reserved for recovery. And this morning was no different.

A handful of students were scattered about the Great Hall munching on the delicious food before them. Despite the colorful and bright breakfast lining the tables, the mood was dull and tiresome. Small whispers were heard as well as the pages of a book being turned, otherwise, it was quiet. The Gryffindor table was bare- well almost.

Each table had at least seven students or more but at the Gryffindor table, there were only two. The previous night had brought a never ending line of drinks and laughter. The Gryffindor common room was still buzzing even after the sun had risen. A nail-biting match between Gryffindor and Slytherin had taken place Saturday night. The tension was thick but the win tasted oh so sweet. Everyone was running on a high after the game. As a result of their victory, the fourth-year students and up decided to have a ‘little’ celebration. It could be assumed nearly no one went to bed the night fully sober, not even Hermione Granger. Fred Weasley had coaxed her into trying his beer after spending three hours following her around and pestering her with amusement. The same two Gryffindor’s sitting closely to each other at breakfast were the same two students who turned in for the night at 9pm and fell asleep in a sober state.

George Weasley and Y/n Y/l/n had been a couple for about a year and a half and seemed to only grow more infatuated with each other as the time swayed on. They were a more reserved couple, which surprised most. Fred and George had a large reputation at Hogwarts. Every student, as well as professor, knew their name. Even the ghosts and portraits would greet them by name!

The twins were outgoing, popular, chatty, and loud. They walked the castle with confidence like the prankster kings they are. That didn’t mean they weren’t two totally different people.

Fred took the lead in most situations and George followed after him with explanation. Fred acted on impulse and George put a bit more thought behind decisions. George was also more sympathetic than his twin. It was in these differences and more that Y/n fell for George and why they connected so perfectly. She was similar to him; outgoing, but still solemn and secretive. Happy and bubbly, thoughtful and caring.

When word spread about Y/n and George dating, everyone expected the two of them to be showing off their relationship with fireworks, bright lights, and confetti. Though the pair walked calmly into their class, holding hands and giggling to themselves as they whispered. They didn’t feel the need to show anything off to anyone or prove a single thing. Besides, Y/n didn’t want the whole school knowing her personal business. It felt a little more personal when they saved it for behind closed doors.

This doesn’t mean George wasn’t affectionate with Y/n in public. He always had his hand on her, typically laced within her own. He’d walk with her to every class, leaving her with kiss on both cheeks, her forehead, then lips. He’d flirt with her in class through notes and tease her endlessly. Everyone knew they were a couple deeply in love, they just didn’t know as much as they wanted. Gossip was the devil’s music and almost every student had their radio volumes on high. But George and Y/n refused to give them anything to talk about. It was admirable in the way. Their love was crystal clear, everyone could see that, but there was so much more beneath the surface their eyes were blocked from, and the couple loved that.

George and Y/n spent Saturday night in George’s dorm room, having their own little party. They mingled and socialized with their friends for a good two hours before sneaking away to the boy’s dormitory tower. Y/n managed to swipe a large carton of pumpkin juice to share then chased behind George. A smile kissed her lips when she noticed her boyfriend was having the same ideas as her. In his hands was a stack of cookies, and a bag of crisps.

“Great minds think alike.” He smirked and reached his hand out, eager for her touch again. She accepted the offer and delicately tugged on his hand. George glanced back, curious at her gesture. A gleeful flash crossed her sharp features. Y/n grabbed a fistful of George’s black robes and slammed his body towards her. George gasped slightly at the movement, clutching the food in his arms as to keep himself from dropping them.

Y/n matched her lips with George, dragging the tall Gryffindor down for a kiss. Bent at the knees, George leaned back so her body could rest against his. Y/n’s grasp remained on his chest but her free hand yanked at the back of his neck, deepening their already heated make out. George allowed his hand to slip down her back, the other still holding their snacks. Resting right at the small of her back, George began to lift his head, a signal for Y/n to pull back. A childlike pout seeped on her face while she let out a huff. She knew they would continue with this in his room but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to get a special sneak peek. A chuckle emanated through the grinning redhead. He was still shocked by her boldness- not that he minded. Not in the slightest. George leaned forward and painted a trail of kisses all across her face, not missing an inch of skin. The young witch retaliated the attack with a jab to his side, then a full-on tickle war. Loudly yelping, George attempted to grab her hands, but she was too quick. This was a typical moment between them, but not when they were somewhat in front of their friends. Not that they were paying any attention at all.

The partygoers seemed far too engaged in the music and talk that they missed the sweet entanglement. What a shame, George thought, it was what they had been waiting for after all. Something to talk about. Although the party was sure to give other chatter and topics for the next week to discuss. Y/n slowly stopped, still buzzing with laughter. George shook his head and leaned into the wall, still trying to recover from his girlfriend’s torturous wrath. His warm brown eyes were trained on her. They had been together for a while but sometimes, he still thought it was a dream. George left one last kiss to her forehead whispering against her skin, savoring the moment.

“I love you, darling... you’re so beautiful.”

“Stop it Georgie, you’re making me blush.” Y/n squealed as George grabbed at her waist and gave me a small twirl. Her flats landed back on the stone stairs with a clank. Leaning up, Y/n left one last kiss to George’s pink lips.

“That’s kind of the whole point, you’re adorable when your flustered. Now can I have another kiss, darling?”

“You’re going to have to catch me first!” With a quick giggle, Y/n turned on her heel and sprinted up the steps of the boy’s dormitory. The staircase was spiraled making the chase more difficult. Y/n was well aware she wasn’t going to win, but that was part of the fun. George being much taller took two steps at a time with ease, rapidly catching up to the young witch. This was their game, George could easily pull her back and get a kiss himself, but it wouldn’t be as exciting this way.

Y/n stopped at George’s door and looked behind her only to see George nearly towering over her smiling. He unlocked the door and pushed it open for the pair to enter. Luckily, all his roommates were still wrapped up in the party and wouldn’t be up for a few hours. George led Y/n to his bed, snatching back the covers and practically shoving her on the mattress. Y/n’s glamorous laughter filled the emptiness, warming George’s heart.

Pulling his wand out, George muttered a privacy spell, not wanting anymore to hear your sweet noise that would soon be coating the walls. He set his wand on his nightstand then focused back on the girl laying underneath him. She looked so pure, so dreamy just lying there. George moved forward, unable to resist the gravitational pull. This kiss was different than earlier- more serious and compassionate. Y/n wrapped her hands around his face, desperate to have as much contact with George as possible. They spent the rest of the night tangled in his bed sheets and howling with laughter. They watched the stars outside the small dorm window and held each other for the remained of the night. George’s roommates hadn’t even noticed the pair passed out in his bed when they turned in for the night.

Fred walked over, excited to tell his brother about his snog fest with Angelina but stopped short. His twin was sound asleep, arms secured around the smaller frame in front of him. It was a good thing Fred liked Y/n, otherwise he surely would’ve kicked the girl out. Although he didn’t have the heart to do so when he saw the couple. Y/n’s hands clutched her boyfriend’s grip as her head rested against his chest, buried in a deep slumber.

“Oi’ Fred, leave ‘em be. They’re in love.” Lee, still buzzing off the flowing drink, was stumbling to his bed, tearing off his school uniform in the process. The lights were dim and the rising sun began to break through the dorm windows.

Fred walked towards Lee Jordan’s bed and started rummaging through his dresser drawers. He was in search of something, Lee wasn’t even sure. Soon enough Fred came back to his bed and sat down with a camera in his hands. Lifting the lens to his view, Fred snapped a line of photos of the sleeping couple. Lee chuckled with a roll of his eyes. Fred always loved harassing his twin about how in love he was with their friend. Lee and Fred were happy it was Y/n and not some other girl.

The pictures slowly processed but Fred’s interest had moved on. Lee was already tucked into bed, his eyes closed as his drunk snores shook the room. The alcohol was wearing off and the desire for sleep was settling in. Fred threw on a pair of red pajamas and climbed into bed. He was in another dream land before his head could hit the pillow, which brings us back to breakfast Sunday morning.

Y/n and George enjoyed the lack of life in the dinning hall. They shared a similar group of friends and loved them very much, but it was a special moment when they were able to bask in the light of each other. George’s company was like a never-ending hug. His smile conflicted with the fearless butterflies fluttering in her stomach. No other man had ever had this effect on her. She was weaved into his very soul.

Sitting and chatting amongst themselves, George had an arm thrown loosely around his girlfriend, admiring her morning appearance. Her hair was still messy, needing a brush through. There were tiny lines under her eyes from the lack of sleep she had been getting. George knew she slept best when they shared a bed so he always tried to let her sleep in as late as her vivid mind would allow. For Y/n, sleeping in until 10am on the weekends was considered a treat. She hated feeling as if she has wasted her day away by sleeping. George on the other hand would stay in bed all week long if his professors allowed it.

“Did you hear Lee last night? I heard him trying to get to the bathroom and when he was going for the door, he tripped over Fred’s school bag and took down his nightstand with him! Fred screamed so loud- I can’t believe you didn’t wake up!” Her musical laughter sent tingels through George’s body. It was like a dose of dopamine, his eyes couldn’t resist glancing down at her. George had almost every little centimeter of Y/n’s grinning features memorized in his skull. Although there were pictures to taped to his walls of you so of course that played a role as well. But he often found himself staring at her- sometimes not even noticing the diversion of attention. Most of Snape’s class George spent daydreaming about his future with Y/n. He’d think of their wedding, buying a house together, starting a family, celebrating holidays together, seeking out new adventures and everything in between. He found himself eager to leave Hogwarts for good and move out so you could start that chapter of your life together.

Squeezing Y/n shoulder, George pulled her closer to his side,

“No, I slept like a baby next to you. Can’t believe you’re thinking about other guys while you’re laying in my arms, that’s just heartbreaking-“ “George!” Wide eyed, Y/n smacked her boyfriend’s side. George erupted in a fit of chuckles, rubbing the side of his arm she had attacked. “I’m only teasin’ you, darling. Wish I would’ve seen that though, I’m sure Fred will give him hell for it.”

“It wasn’t a pleasant sight at all. Poor boy just laid there, didn’t even get up for another few minutes.” Y/n took a bit out of her toast absentmindedly. Her thoughts were still on last night and the tumble her friend had taken. It was pretty funny, but she was too tired to humor the moment. Not to mention the moans of pain Lee let out as he squirmed around on the floor. It was an odd method to rid the pain, not that it seemed to relieve anything.

“Sure it hurt his massive ego more than anything.”

Y/n was about to change the subject when the sound of footsteps made the couple turn. By the entrance of the Great Hall was half the group of Y/n and George’s friends. Fred, Lee, Hermione, Harry and Ron found their way to the pair as they entered for breakfast. Ron was visibly excited at the menu for the day. He plopped himself diagonal from his older brother in front of a mouth water mountain of pancakes swimming in syrup and crisp strips of bacons displayed on top. The ginger wasted no time digging into his meal. Hermione squinted her eyes at him but took the open seat next to him regardless. She was across from Y/n and gave her close friend a sweet smile and ‘good morning’. Harry sat next to Hermione and Lee crossed the table to occupy the spot next to Y/n. She looked at him knowingly and before she could ask how he was feeling, the Chip to George’s Dale greeted them,

“Good morning, love birds! Have we missed out on any adorably puke worthy moments yet?”

“Hello Fred- and everyone else.” Fred swung his leg one at a time over the long bench, shoving himself in-between George and Y/n. This earned a harsh shove from George causing Fred to bump Y/n. Her juice splashed onto the table, wetting the front of her notebook. The girl glared at the twins, annoyed by the shift in company. George muttered an apology while Fred simply shrugged and leaned into her.

“How are you feeling after your little accident last night, Jordan?”

“Oh god,” Lee face palmed immediately while Fred started to laugh at the recollection, “Please don’t tell me you were awake.” He said embarrassed. Y/n nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I woke up when I heard you talking about the bathroom then I saw you get tangled in Fred’s bag and fall onto the floor. You also knocked over your stand I believe. Then you just laid on the floor and I reckon you were gonna end it all, felt sorry honestly. I would’ve gotten up but I was too tired to help.” This caused the whole table to laugh in unison at her statement. Lee scurried to explain and calm down his friends,

“You would be right- it’s not funny, guys! I was piss ass drunk and couldn’t tell my right foot from my left.” The giggles continued on for a while as Harry and Ron asked Lee to explain. He told the his side of the event, which created ever more rambunctiousness. Hermione was holding to Harry’s shoulder for stability as her body shook with humor.

“Speaking of last night, you two cuties seemed to have a fun time alone!” Fred sounded a bit too happy for either of the couple’s liking.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Fred?”

“Don’t ask-“ Lee was swiftly interrupted by a gleaming Fred.

“Glad you asked!” He cheered. Lifting himself up, Fred reached into the pocket of his robes and retrieved four square slips. He held the small card like squares in one hand and, much to his brother’s disbelief, wrapped his free his arm around Y/n’s shoulders. George’s eye narrowed at this. What was his brother up to? The mischievous smirk returned to Fred’s face as he looked between Y/n and his brother. It was so hard for Fred to get something good to tease George with. He practically gave him nothing!

Fred turned the squares around flashing the contents to the four friends sitting infront of him. Hermione was the first to react, gasping as she took one of the squares from Fred. Her hand was covering her mouth as she awed. Ron looked… disgusted? It was hard to tell. He looked pleased with the food on his plate and in his mouth, but bitter towards Fred’s surprise. Ron waved his hand, signaling to Fred that he didn’t care.

Harry just smiled then glanced up towards George, then over to Y/n. By this point, Y/n had enough of the mixed emotion stares from her friends and yanked Fred’s arm back so she could see what the pictures were of.

Suddenly, the Gryffindor felt her mouth open in shock as she examined the photo. George mirrored her actions and looked at his twin in confusion.

“You creep! We were sleeping.” Y/n screeched at the image clutched between Fred’s fingers. George attempted to snatch the pile from his hands but being twins, Fred saw that one coming. He pulled them back, there was no way Fred would allow George or Y/n not have the pictures that quickly. Lee Jordan had a similar smirk as Fred, it was amusing for a Sunday morning. Saturday hadn’t given much news for the week so of course their friends were bound to fall back on the topic of George and Y/n. Fred had struck gold with this one. It was harmless of course, but it made the couple flustered to deal with the teasing.

“I told him to leave you guys alone, but knowing Fred, this is nothing. Actually quite a cute little moment-“ Hermione interrupted Lee with an excited voice,

“Oh my god, Y/n! This is so adorable. I have to show Ginny!” She flashed a grin to Y/n and exited the hall with a speed walk. Y/n let out a groan. Hermione would show Ginny plus some, Ginny would show Alicia plus some, and so on. She didn’t care so much as she was annoyed to have attention drawn to her relationship with George. It happens to a lot of couples at Hogwarts. It’s a big school, but the students are close. Couples get a little more attention among the students. Watched with more scrutiny by students praying for drama, sadly there was an overcrowding of these students at Hogwarts. Talk spread like wildfires, and in the process, words get manipulated. Rumors ensue and drama explodes. Y/n and George were happy- in love. The last thing they wanted was talk around the castle.

“Girls…” Ron mumbled and shook his head.

“Really, Fred? You know I’m going to make it my goal to get a picture of you snogging Angelina. At least people know I’m dating Y/n, wait until they get ahold of you and Angelina! The gossip! I can already hear it.” George’s threat came with a devilish smirk to his lips. On the other side of Fred, Y/n felt her body calming at George’s words. He was cracking playful taunts and was somehow enjoying the situation.

“Ah it wasn’t that bad, relax. I’m just giving the people what they want! You two are so secretive- everyone wanted to see more! I mean, you guys are basically the topic of everyone’s discussion lately. It’s sickeningly adorable so chill out. You don’t need to take it that far.”

“For once, he’s right, George.” Y/n squished Fred as she leaned across his body causing him to move back so she could squeeze George’s hand. “I think it’s cute. You look so soft and peaceful when you’re asleep!”

The four boys watched hesitantly. There were rare instants like these where they got a glimpse into the layers of the couple’s ways. This also means they had a feeling where this was about to turn, and none of them wants to deal with any sappiness before noon. Just as predicted, George slides his hand from Y/n’s up the side of her arm to her neck, where he held a half grip for composure and control. Nudging her forward by the back of her neck, George linked his lips to Y/n and kissed her with his twin still leaning back. This time, Fred did not want to sit in the middle of them. A chorus of protests could be heard as Ron threw a piece of bread at George. Harry stuck his tongue out in an overexaggerated expression of disgust. Hands secured around his face. Lee opened his fingers to peek through waiting for the heated embrace to wrap up.

“Well how could I not when I have the most beautiful girl in the world laying in my arms?” This was their favorite game to play. George would over play his cheesiness until his friends would lose interest and demand the cuteness to stop.

Y/n batted her eyes up at George, bathing in the reactions of her friends. They made her and George uncomfortable more times than she could count so it was self-rewarding to turn the table on them.

Fred place one hand on Y/n’s shoulder and the other on his twin, shoving them apart in one motion,

“Okay, ew.” A grimace covered Fred’s features. He found himself wished he had stayed in bed instead of coming to breakfast. It was far too early to see this much love. George’s plate was nearly empty, and he was finishing up the last bit of his omelet. His coffee cup was bone dry, having been that way shortly after they sat down. It was no secret he had a bit of an addiction of caffeine. Y/n sipped from a small glass cup. The dark blue liquid was sweet and smooth. Blueberry juice was a rarity she had only stumbled upon at Hogwarts. She could recall the look of cluelessness her muggle cashier had given her when she asked for a gallon from a supermarket near her home.

Y/n chewed on the last piece of her toast while George gave his brother innocent eyes,

“What? I’m just giving the people what they want, what they’ve been dying to talk about! You said it yourself, Freddie.” Fred shot sharp daggers at George for his wit. He knocked him on the side of the head a replied,

“Okay, I take it back then. I’d rather not know, and you can go be all lovey dovey in private, away from me please!” Lifting his hand, Fred started shooing his hand and motioned towards the staircase outside the large doors.

Harry and Lee paused their side conversation and Ron sat down his fork for a moment. Ron grasps his chin and slides his lips to the side of his mouth, as if deep in contempt. He then remarked,

“Agreed.” Harry and Lee chuckled and shrugged.

More students had started to flow freely into the dining hall. Y/n figured the more Gryffindor’s that swept into the hall, the less occupying the common room. The gentle brown orbs of George found their way to Y/n’s every few seconds. When their gaze met, her bottom lip drew back as she bit on the skin subconsciously, George noticed this. He shifted forward not realizing he was leaning in towards her. Fred shouted a quick ‘no’ not wanting a repeat of the previous scenario. Y/n made kissy faces at Fred, mocking his displeasure. At the same time George brought his finger up to his twin’s head and delivered a hard flick. Fred reached for the side of his head, glaring at George.

“C’mon, George. I think we have some business to attend to, in private.” Y/n winked at her boyfriend who had a cheeky smile plastered to his lips. George sprung up from his seat and quickly got off the bench and extended his arm. A light tint popped on Y/n’s cheeks as his thoughtfulness. Wrapping her arm around his, she accepted his help and climbed over the seat.

“Couldn’t agree more, love.” George and Y/n started walking away from their friends and heading for the common room. They hadn’t made any plans for the day anyhow so spending it next to the fire or in his room sounded more than appealing. George stopped their pace just as they reached the massive doors of the Great Hall. Bending slightly at the knees, George pressed a feather like kiss to Y/n’s forehead, then on the tip of her nose, earning a wave of giggles from the girl. It was his favorite sound. George attached his arm around hers once again and set back off for their destination. Before they could make it out free, the familiar voice of Fred shouted across the hall,

“You better keep it on your side, George! And not on my bed or I swear to Merlin I will hex both of you!”

George waved back to him, giving him a thumbs up with a less than confident expression. His hand trailed down from her back to the curve of her ass and started to grab at the skin until she swatted it away, feeling the pairs of eyes glued to them. It was bold, undoubtably hot, but there were far too many students in the hall for Y/n’s liking to continue it there. His touch creates a pit of warmth in the bottom of her stomach. They didn’t show any of this in front of their friends, so it was exciting in a way but worrisome at the same time. Y/n had no intentions of turning a PG-13 situation R in the Great Hall with most of her friends and a bunch of second- and first-year children trying to enjoy breakfast. Didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling a bit frustrated and wanting to throw that feeling back on him. Fred scowled but sat back down. They were twins, he knew George wouldn’t but that didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed by his mockful antics.

“Not nice, George. You’re so mean to poor Freddie. I think I should go talk to him and make it up to him… for how rude you were.” Her words dripped with witticism and a sweet passion burned in her eyes. George knew that look; he absolutely loved that look.

“No, you’re not making anything up to him. You’re mine, not Fred’s or have you forgotten? Now go up to your dorm room and meet me in mine in twenty.” There was a difference to the twinkle in his eyes. Darker than before, more fired up. Y/n’s hand shook at his words, noticeably flushed and taken aback by his strong words. They had only recent started being intimate a few months ago so they had been finding out new things about each other every day. This, this was definitely new. And Y/n found herself weak at the knees by it.

These moments were not too common, but she loved them. It was fun to see George getting worked up by just her teasing words alone. He shifted as he picked up the pace. The material of his jeans growing constrictive and uncomfortable with every step. Y/n was practically being dragged down the long hall until George came to a halt, then abruptly turned to head back in the direction of the Great Hall. Before walking off completely, he left one last peck to Y/n’s warm cheek, then dart off.

Lost at his change, Y/n furrowed her brows in question, “Where are you going?”

George’s body swirled around at her request. He didn’t stop his pace, now walking backwards towards the dining hall. Shoving his thumb to his back, he gestured to their previous spot,

“I’ve gotta tell my roommate not to come back to the dorm for a few hours. We’re going to be quite busy, darling. It seems there’s a lesson that you’ve forgot. I’m going to have to teach you and knowing how stubborn you are, it could take a while.” With a wink he rushed into the hall and disappeared. Y/n didn’t need to be told more. She started walking again- or rather running towards her dorm room to freshen up. Based on his words, she knew it would be one hell of a morning.

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years ago

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Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

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I don't know how much i can endure this - Yakko

“Yakko I don’t wanna go,” Dot complained, pulling on her itchy and puffy black dress that was just a little too tight.

“We all have to go, Dot, it’s not up to us,” Yakko sighed, adjusting the bow tying her ears together.

“But this dress itchessss,” she whined, tugging on the sleeves.

“You’re going to stretch it out if you keep that up,” Yakko warned.

“Why do we have to go?” Dot continued with her complaining.

“Because Grandma said so, and what grandma tells us to do now... we have to,” Yakko glanced at his younger brother who was leaning against the wall and not facing them.

“Why?” Dot asked.

“Because mom and dad can’t help us anymore,” Yakko sighed, taking her hand and walking towards Wakko. Wakko muttered something under his breath.

Thankfully, Dot didn’t ask “why” again.

“You ready?” Yakko asked Wakko.

“Yeah,” Wakko said. Yakko rolled his eyes, noticing his brother’s shirt was buttoned all wrong.

“Grandma would kill you if she saw you like this,” Yakko sighed, fixing it. Wakko muttered yet again.

“What on earth are you muttering about?” Yakko shot him a look.

“Nothing... nothing,” Wakko looked away. The older prince sighed. He really didn’t have the energy for this.

Then again, he could hardly say he had the energy for anything anymore. The most sleep he had gotten the past four days was when he got knocked out by the assassins. Other than that, he was unable to sleep, the words of his mom ringing in his head.

“Let him go! It’s me you want, not him!”

He shivered.

“Let’s just get going... the sooner it’s over, the better,” Yakko said, offering a hand to Dot and Wakko. Dot took it, but Wakko crossed his arms.

They carried on.

“Ready, you three?” Their grandmother asked, making that the fourth thing she had said to them since the day after the attack.

She still hadn’t taken off that stupid thick black veil.

“As we’ll ever be,” Yakko said, giving Dot’s hand a squeeze.

Slowly, the grand doors to the overcast courtyard opened, and Yakko’s eyes quickly went to the two caskets.

“Who’s in there?” Dot pointed as they went to their spot, which Yakko quickly made her put down.

“Not mum and dad,” Wakko mumbled, and Yakko gave him a look as their grandmother went to the podium.

“My people, we are gathered here today to do something no mother should ever have to go through. Today, we honor and mourn the memory of my only child, Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second, and her husband, Sir William the Good,” She said, her voice cold and numb to the ears.

Yakko felt a wave of anger wash over him. She had no right to speak in that way.

She hired the assassins. She wanted them dead and gone. It was all her fault.

“It is with a heavy heart that I am forced to retain my throne until my grandson, Prince Yakko, is of age,” she gestured to him. He didn’t know what to do, so he just nodded, trying not to let his rage consume him, allowing the numbness to take over once more.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure this.

His grandmother continued on with her speech, but Yakko paid it no mind, his eyes stuck on the empty caskets.

Wakko was right, his parents weren’t in them. Nobody told them why, but Yakko was smart enough to realize that just meant the assassins either burned them, threw them in a river somewhere, or buried them in the middle of the woods somewhere far, far away.

In some sense, Yakko was glad the caskets were empty. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to look upon the dead faces of his mother and father, and he was much more sure that seeing that wouldn’t be good for Wakko or Dot.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and heavier is the heart of one who has lost a child,” he heard her say.

Yakko growled, but controlled himself, burying the anger deep within himself.

Eventually, she was done, and other, more boring people spoke. There was a song and Yakko really wanted nothing more in the world than for this to end so he could go back into his room and be alone for just a moment, not standing in front of thousands feeling empty and hollow and numb.

The queen chose to stand on the opposite side of the podium than the trio of children. She had been distant ever since the attack. Yakko suspected that was likely to change very soon, but for now he was grateful. The last thing he wanted to deal with was her complaining that Dot was crying too loud.

Poor Dot... she was still too young to really understand what death was, no matter how Yakko tried to explain. All she knew was that they were gone, and they weren’t coming back. At first she thought it was because they abandoned them, but Yakko was quick to explain they’d never do that to them. After that though, she started looking around corners for them, expecting them to be there any minute...

Every night, Dot would wake up and start crying for them, but they never came. Instead, Yakko could come in and take Dot to his and Wakko’s room, and he’d cuddle with her until she fell back asleep.

It helped him with his nightmares too.

“Yakko, we’re going, it’s over,” Wakko said, snapping his older brother back into reality.

“Right, yes,” Yakko shook his head, taking Dot’s hand again, and they all went to the great hall for refreshments, though Yakko hardly had the appetite.

However, Wakko did have the appetite, so he stayed anyway, though he was unfortunately placed right next to his grandmother, looking evermore cold and blank behind that veil. He could hardly make out where her eyes were, until she looked at him, then he looked away.

“It’s rude to stare at a woman in mourning,” She said.

“Mourning my ass,” Yakko thought. He was so done pretending to care about her.

“Sorry,” he said instead. Knowing the new lengths she was willing to go to to get rid of people and things she didn’t like reminded him to keep his mouth shut.

“That brother of yours is causing a racket. Fix it,” She waved her hand at him, and Yakko looked for Wakko and whatever racket he was supposedly causing, but all he was him and a few other random boys lauhging and playing a game in the corner. Yakko frowned.

“I don’t see what the matter is?” He scratched his head.

“This is a funeral, boy, you aren’t supposed to be playing games,” She seethed, and Yakko left without a word, sensing her anger.

“Wakko, c’mon,” Yakko went to his brother.

“What? I’m in the middle of a-”

“Now.” Yakko snapped, stepping out into the hall. Wakko quickly followed.

“What did I do this time?” Wakko asked as the door closed behind him.

“This is a funeral, Wakko, you can’t be playing games with strangers,” Yakko pointed out. “Or did you forget why we’re wearing these black uncomfortable outfits?”

“I didn’t forget,” Wakko rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Because it really seems like you have,” Yakko stepped forward angrily. Wakko blinked, not understanding where this anger was coming from.

“W-well... it’s not my fault it doesn’t actually feel like a funeral. I-i mean seriously Yakko, they didn’t even find their bodies,” Wakko crossed his arms.

“Wakko... they’re dead whether you like it or not,” Yakko said, feeling a lump in his throat.

“No,” Wakko shook his head. “I don’t believe it. If they were dead, they’d’ve been in those boxes.”

“Wakko, i know i-it hurts, but-”

“but no! They aren’t dead! Th-they can’t be dead b-because if they were-” Wakko paused from his shouting.

“I-if they were...”

“It’d be my fault...”

Yakko blinked. “Wh-what?”

“I-it was my idea to run i-in the garden a-and I ran through the flower b-bed and I tracked in the mud, a-and she took me to the tower a-and Dad broke me out a-and grandma g-got mad at mum a-and th-then everything was b-bad a-and n-now they’re gone,” Wakko shouted, a waterfall of tears streaming down his face.

“Wakko, that isn’t true,” Yakko was mortified.

“If they’re dead it’s my fault, it’s true,” Wakko didn’t listen, shaking his head and closing his eyes tightly, putting his hands on his head. Yakko quickly hugged him.

“It’s not your fault Wakko,” He stroked his head.

“It’s my fault- I’m such a screw up,” he continued to cry.

“Wakko, you are not a screw up and you are not an idiot,” Yakko adamantly denied.

“Th-then why are they gone?” Wakko looked up at him, tears still pouring. Yakko bit his lip.

He could tell them. He knew why, he had seen the letter.

But that would make them angry, and anger would cause them to lash out at the queen, which could get them hurt or far, far worse.

“Because evil people decided to hurt them,” Yakko sighed. “I’m sorry, there’s nothign more to it than that.”

“I’ll kill them,” Wakko sniffled and buried his head in Yakko’s shirt.

“I know Wakko, I know,” Yakko patted his head. For a long moment, the warner brothers remained in their embrace.

“S-so... they’re really... dead?” Wakko glanced up.

“Y-yeah... they’re really dead, Wakko.” He paused, before adding, “I’m so sorry.”

Wakko sniffled. “You don’t need to be sorry, it’s not your fault either.”

Yakko hesitated at that. It made sense, of course, but.. he sighed.

“Worrying yourself to death isn’t going to do any of us any good.” His mother’s voice reminded.

“Yeah... you’re right,” He sighed. “There’s no point in guilt anyway. We’ll just... have to move on.”

“...I miss them,” Wakko whispered.

“I miss them too Wak, but they’re gone, and there’s nothing we can do expect move on, okay?”

Wakko slowly nodded.

“Okay...”

.o0o.

“We’re almost there, I promise.”

THey had traveled for goodness knew how long, ignoring the stings, the rips, the sprains that burned throughout their bodies as they trudged through the snow.

Of all of the years for it to snow early, did it have to be this one?

Well, then again, the snow had been their savior, the ice caused their carriage to overturn.

That didn’t mean they weren’t injured in their escape, one was barely holding on as it was.

“We’re almost there.” the stronger of the two repeated.

“I-i can’t. It hurts too much,” they nearly collapsed into the snow, had it not been for the other catching them.

“Just a little bit further, please,” The stronger pleaded. The weaker shook their head.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“They need you.”

“You don’t think they need you too?”

A pause.

“I’ll carry you.”

“Y-you can’t-”

“I can and I will-”

“Your arm-”

“I don’t care,” The stronger made their decision. They braced themselves, and with tremendous effort, picked up their dying partner, and continued trudging through the snow.

Slowly but surely a small town swelled on the horizon.

They had made it.

They carried on as fast as they could manage, ignoring the flairing pain shooting through their entire body when finally, they arrived.

With their free hand they pounded on the door. Shuffling noises came from behind, and eventually, a familiar curvy blonde woman answered the door.

“Dr Scratchnsniff’s Office, how can I- William?! Princess? What on earth are you two doing in Acme Falls? What happened?”

“We’ve had one hell of a week.” William responded, before collasping onto his knees, and passing out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

#my fics #animaniacs #angelina 1 lives au #yakko wakko and dot #wakko warner #yakko warner #dot warner #tw injuries #queen angelina i #queen angelina ii #william warner #tw funeral #angst

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

Text

Only One Choice, Chapter 7

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Saturday brings an unexpected heat wave, the high temperatures uncharacteristic even for D.C. Dana has grappled all week with how to explain her Saturday evening plans to Ethan. Her instinct is to lie, to tell him she’s getting dinner with Missy or has to go into work for an emergency autopsy. But lying makes it impossible to tell herself that what she’s doing isn’t wrong; if she has nothing to hide, why would she be hiding it? In the end, she goes with vague truth and tells him that she’s meeting up with a colleague to discuss some interesting new research they shared with her. Never mind that said colleague is a very handsome and apparently very single man. Never mind that she feels a rush between her legs whenever she pictures his cocky smile. Meeting with a colleague. Interesting research. Nothing more.

She and Ethan spend the morning lying around in their underwear, too overheated to do anything else. The air conditioning hums and sputters, trying to keep up, but it's no match for the sweltering heat.

“Do we have ice cream?” Ethan asks, splayed out on his back against the hardwood clad in green boxer shorts.

“Nope, I ate it all when I was PMSing last week,” she replies from the couch, arms and legs draped off the sides so that no part of her body is touching any other.

They are quiet for a bit.

“Wanna have sex?” Ethan asks offhandedly, and she feels a flush of dread.

“Too hot,” she replies with an equally offhand tone, glad he can’t see her face.

They are quiet again.

“Are you okay, Dana?” he asks hesitantly, his eyes on the ceiling. She waits a little too long to answer.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just...you don’t seem like yourself. Since we got engaged, I mean. You seem kind of distracted. Distant, maybe?”

She takes a steadying breath. She knows he’s right. If she were honest, she’d tell him that she feels crushing guilt for being so infatuated with another man. That she feels like a horrible girlfriend, fiancée, almost-wife, for continuing to seek out interactions with him, but she can’t bring herself to stop. That she loves Ethan, so much, but can’t deny the pull that Mulder has on her. That she feels like she’s cheating when they have sex, because Mulder invariably takes his place in her mind. But she can’t tell him any of that.

She rolls to her side so she can look at him.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed lately, with work and the wedding. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

He rolls his head to the side to meet her eye.

“So you’re not having doubts? About getting married?” The pain and worry in his voice is like a kick in the gut.

“Of course not,” she implores, crawling off the couch and across the floor to where he lays. She gingerly throws a leg over his hip and straddles him, placing her hands on his sweat-damp chest and leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. “I can’t wait to be your wife,” she says with a soft smile, and the twist in her belly alerts her to the fact that this might be a lie.

They make love, there on the living room floor. She keeps her eyes open, not allowing her mind to wander from this moment, this man. Not allowing herself to admit that this is a consolation, an attempt to prove to them both that she is in this, with him, for the long haul. Her orgasm is weak and brief, not the same. Nothing is the same, anymore. Not since Mulder waltzed into the autopsy bay and complicated her life.

————————

The heat has abated only slightly by 5:30 as she’s preparing to leave her apartment and head to Mulder’s. She debates what to wear for an agonizingly long time; the temperature calls for a dress or shorts, but she fears sending the wrong message if it looks like she’s intentionally bearing skin. She finally settles on a black maxi dress, a compromise in coverage and air flow, paired with flip flops. Casual, not trying too hard, but not frumpy either.

As she makes for the door, Ethan stops her with a gentle grasp on her wrist, pulling her to him.

“You look beautiful,” he says with an affectionate gaze, and that guilty feeling in her belly is back. Their impromptu living room floor love-making seems to have assuaged his concerns over her demeanor for the time being, but it only served to deepen her own inner turmoil.

“Thank you,” she replies before kissing him on the cheek and escaping the emotional heat of their apartment for the temperate heat of the DC evening.

2630 Hegal Place is a stately brick building that has been decently maintained. It’s not as nice as her neighborhood in Georgetown, but it’s hardly the slum that Mulder suggested it was. She feels a little sick as she rides the elevator up to the fourth floor, taking in the dark wood trim against the yellowing walls of his hallway. She finds apartment forty-two and pauses outside the door for a long while. She has a feeling that walking through this door is a decision with consequences, one she shouldn’t take lightly. She realizes she’s not wearing her engagement ring; it’s likely sitting on the bathroom counter beside the sink. A simple oversight; she’s not yet used to wearing it. Certainly not a Freudian slip of the mind...she has the sudden overwhelming urge to flee. Perhaps she knows exactly what she’s doing after all. She turns to walk back to the elevator when the door swings open, startling her.

“Scully,” he says with a lopsided smile.

He’s wearing dark wash jeans, his top half bare, a bag of garbage in one hand. Her eyes immediately light on the broad expanse of his chest, smooth and dappled with a light dusting of hair. His abdomen is solid, sleek and defined. A swimmer’s body, she thinks with a sigh.

“I was just taking the trash out, you’re a little early,” he says with a hint of embarrassment, passing her to stuff the bag down the chute at the end of the hall.

“Oh, sorry, am I?” she looks at her watch; it’s 5:55.

“Or maybe I’m just running a little behind,” he replies sheepishly, then lifts his arm and gestures for her to enter the apartment, “please, come in.”

She enters a combination foyer and dining room, the kitchen tucked off to the left and the living room straight ahead. The ambiance matches the hallway, dark wood and yellow walls, the ceilings impressively high. The decor is sparse; nothing on the walls and only small trinkets littering the surfaces, a fish tank burbling near the window. She waits to see where he directs her to go. The dining room table seems like a suitably professional place for two colleagues to review work files. He brushes past her to the living room, the shower-fresh smell of him drifting into her nostrils; Irish Spring and Old Spice.

“You can take a seat,” he says gesturing to the couch, “let me just grab a shirt and the files.” He disappears through a door that must be his bedroom.

She sets her purse on his cluttered desk and sits on one end of the worn leather couch, looking around at his few furnishings. She startles when a black blur springs onto her lap with a high-pitched meow, and Mulder re-enters the room with a bankers box tucked under his arm, his torso now covered by a black T-shirt.

“Jesus, Priscilla, don’t assault the woman,” he says as he sets the box on the coffee table and plucks the cat off her lap. “Sorry about that, she has an affinity for pretty girls,” he continues, then directs his next comment to the cat. “We have that in common, eh, Prissy?”

She feels a flush to her cheeks and he takes the cat with him to the kitchen, returning with two beers in its place.

“I hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind me borrowing you for the evening,” he says as he hands her an open beer.

She looks at him with a mildly shocked expression, his mention of Ethan feeling out of place and somehow obscene. Noticing her discomfort, he changes the subject as he sits on the opposite end of the couch.

“This is all I walked away with, one box of the best, brightest, and weirdest X files I came across during my time. About half are those I investigated myself, the rest were left from the previous agents who started the division,” he slides the box down the coffee table towards her and she plucks the lid off carefully to see dozens of neatly labeled orange folders. She pulls a random one out from the middle and sets her beer on the coffee table, opening the file across her lap.

“So tell me why the X files division was shut down,” she says as she leafs through the pages.

“Well, the official reason is that an investigation into a man with green blood resulted in multiple deaths, which was just the last in a series of...mishaps. But the real reason is that I was too close to the truth.”

She lifts her head from the file to look at him. He has his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch. He seems so at ease all the time, so comfortable around her.

“The truth about what?” she asks, working to peel her eyes from his plush lower lip.

He takes a deep breath. “A lot of things, but namely a government conspiracy to conceal the existence of extraterrestrial life, even as they’re conducting experiments and research on said extraterrestrials. Perhaps even working with them.”

It’s that same even, factual delivery. Her mouth blossoms into a slow smile.

“Working with the aliens? To do what, open a KMart on Mars?” she teases, and he returns her smile with one that is so devilish it makes her pelvis twitch.

“Read on, Scully. The more you see, the less crazy it sounds.”

He stands and goes to the stereo, and after a few minutes of fiddling around she hears Radiohead begin to play. “You like Radiohead?” he asks, and she gives a half shrug, half nod. Doesn’t love ‘em, doesn’t hate ‘em.

“So this one appears to be about some kind of tree-dwelling insect?” she asks, reading over details of a dead man sucked dry of all fluids and bound up in a giant cocoon.

Mulder returns to the couch and sits beside her, much closer this time, their thighs nearly touching. The heat of his body on top of the warmth of the air makes new sweat prick at the back of her neck.

“Indeed, prehistoric insects that were released from the inner rings of the tree when they were logged. I nearly got eaten up by them myself,” he remarks, reaching over to turn the pages that lie across her lap. She shivers a little despite the heat.

“And what does that have to do with aliens and government conspiracies?” she asks, keeping her head down, knowing that if she looks up at him he would be close enough to kiss.

“It’s not that straight forward, Scully. There are things, many things, on our planet that are unexplainable, and having control over that which can’t be understood by science and intelligence gives you a certain degree of power. Unfortunately, it’s a power that’s most often used for evil instead of good.”

She does turn to him then, getting an up-close look at the greenish, almost-hazel of his irises, the pronounced bridge of his nose.

“There’s nothing that’s unexplainable on this planet, Mulder. Just because we can’t explain it now doesn’t mean we never will. Consider how much science has progressed in the last fifty years alone. Who knows what we deem unexplainable now that will be perfectly understood in another fifty?”

He tilts his head closer to her and her heart speeds up, her lips parting unconsciously. His smirk is devastatingly sexy, and she suddenly doesn’t trust herself.

“May I use your bathroom?” she asks abruptly, looking away.

“Of course, it’s through the bedroom,” he says, hitching his thumb to the door behind and to their left.

She carefully makes her way into his bedroom, which contains a queen size mattress on a mahogany frame, a dresser, and not much else. He’s a man of simple means, it would seem. The bathroom is clean and devoid of skid marks and stray pubic hairs; the seat is even down. When she returns, he’s placed several of the files in a neat stack on the coffee table.

“These are the ones I’d recommend you read. At least they may be the ones you find most compelling,” he says as she returns to her seat, inching just a bit further away from him than she’d been before.

She takes the first from the stack and opens it. “So how’d you get into all this, Mulder? Have you always been into aliens, or did you see E.T. too many times when it came out?”

He doesn’t answer and she looks at him. He’s considering her, pondering. Deciding whether to tell her something.

Continue Reading here

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #xf fanfic #alternate universe

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claymorecut · 3 years ago

Text

YOU KNOW IT’S TRUE LOVE WHEN YOU CAN’T STOP LOVING YOUR WIFE EVEN WHEN SHE GROWS A PAIR OF KINTAMA

A GinTsu fanfic

Word Count: 8072

A/N: This fic is long. And messy. And I wanted to write this for a really long time. Hope you guys enjoy! <3

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

‘Huh? When did I get here..?’

Standing under the scorching afternoon sun, this is the first thought that crosses the silver-haired samurai’s mind. The familiar crossroad bustled with people as Gintoki scrunches his eyes and shields them from the blinding sunlight. Not long ago was he lying on his precious couch in his cozy little apartment, so how come is he now standing on the middle of Yoshiwara? Oh yes, he was already on his way to pay his busy wifey a visit.

‘Must be the heat, I might’ve lost track of when I reached here.’ Rubbing his eyes which seems to itch a little, the man decided to make his way towards the infamous tea-house. It has been months since he last visited Yoshiwara but the true reason he’s here today is because he wants to see his wife. For the last few weeks, Tsukuyo has been coming home late due to work and to his disappointment - and sure enough, hers as well - they hardly get the chance to spend time together.

Of course, like always, Gintoki stays the same, good, supportive husband who doesn’t constantly nag his wife about her workaholic nature and busy schedule but right now, perhaps, he has started to feel a little lonely. And as cheesy as it sounds in his thirty-five years old mind, Gintoki really misses her. Not just the sex or the long, passionate kisses, but he really misses spending quality time with her. Seriously, when was the last time the two sat down and read their favorite manga series together? More importantly, their second anniversary is only a few dates away and this time, he wants to surprise her with something special. Something that can help the Tsukuyo take a break from her job and relax.

The former city of night appears as same as ever with people busy with their daily work. A few Hyakka members patrolled the streets, in case of any transgression. However, far away in front of another tea house, Gintoki catches a small crowd of woman swarming a large, tanned man, most likely flirting with him while he seems to be going along with them playful pokes and giggles. Due to his back facing him, he can’t get a clear look on the unfamiliar man except for his wide back and blond hair which perfectly contrasted his bronze skin. No wonder so many women were flocking around him, he appears to be quite a good-looking man.

“Oh Gin-san, how have you been?” The delighted owner of the tea house was greets him as he walks inside.

“Usual, I guess.” The man simply replied and takes a seat on one of the benches, facing her. “I just saw this guy outside. You guys hired a new bodyguard?”

At his curious question, Hinowa gives him a confused look. “No. We haven’t had new recruits for quite some time now.”

“Oh.”

“So, Gin-san.” Hinowa asks, changing the subject. “What brings you here?”

While Hinowa gives him her signature smile, Gintoki finds the situation quite odd. Wouldn’t a teasing “Here to see Tsukuyo~” with her playful smirk have made more sense?

‘Perhaps, she’s gotten used to it.’ His mind reasoned back as he brushed off the thought.

“Uh…well, I was basically here to meet Tsukuyo but I was thinking of taking her on a trip for our anniversary.” Looking down, he nervously rubs the back of his neck. He may have been a married man now but even still, showing his rather romantic side of his in front of anyone except Tsukuyo makes him a little…flustered.

“You know how she is with her ‘I don’t want anythin’’ and stuff. That woman has been working constantly for ages and she really needs to get some rest! I never thought choosing a gift for a woman would be this tough, let alone surprising her but it’s her we’re talking about after all….So, I thought maybe you can suggest me something.”

After finishing up his chattering, Gintoki looks back up at her with a flushed face, only to find Hinowa confusedly blinking at him. “…Eh? Anniversary?”

The man knits his brows. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

“Forgot what?”

“My and Tsukuyo’s anniversary.”

“But when did you get marri-“

“What’s goin’ on?” A deep and surprisingly familiar voice came from behind the silver-haired man.

“Oh, Tsukuo. Did you know Gin-san got married? He just told me.”

“What? When?”

“I don’t know…maybe he’s talking about someone else…”

This casual exchange of words sounded strange. But what sounded stranger is the name of the man who is talking with Hinowa. Who is now standing right beside him. Perplexed at this sudden change of events, Gintoki slowly turns to his side to find the very same tanned and muscular man he has seen before entering the tea house standing who now looked at him and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Yo, Mr. Husband. Did ya forget to invite us or what?” The man named Tsukuo teases him.

And Gintoki felt all the blood drain off his face.

He knew something was off. Really off. And as he got the closer look of the man’s face, the more he finds himself horrified. “W-who are you?”

The large man quirked one of his brows and then looks back at Hinowa, directing his thumb at Gintoki. “Is he okay?”

“He looked fine before. Gin-san, you look pale. Are you okay?”

No. No, he isn’t. Because this doesn’t look right. And no matter how much he tries, his brain has now failed to process the entire situation as Gintoki finds his eyes fixated at the buff man who looks shockingly familiar. Blond hair, violet eyes, the familiar black kimono decorated with autumn leaves and the infamous scar that he has gotten accustomed to kissing - Gintoki has been seeing all these features for years now.

In his wife.

Pointing a shaky finger at the large man, Gintoki felt his voice turn into a mere, almost squeaky, whimper “Hinowa-san….what happened to my Tsukuyo?” He could no longer contain the shock and disbelief in his voice. No way is this happening!

“Tsukuyo?” At this, the raven-haired woman looks puzzled. “But that’s Tsukuo.”

“I-I know..but…did some strange light fell from the sky and changed her sex? Like how it happened last time in the Dekobokko arc?” Each syllable he stutters makes his heart race a little faster. “What happened to Tsukuyo?”

“….Gin-san, what’re talking about? There’s no one named Tsukuyo here.”

His mouth falls agape. “Hinowa-san, please don’t joke like this.”

“But….I’m not joking, Gin-san….”

“Then…you’re saying my wife…is now…a man..?”

Suddenly he feels a large hand on his shoulder, probing him to look at the other direction which he was so badly trying to avoid. “Are ya outta your mind, ya bastard?” His said wife says up loudly, sounding quite offended by his genuine question. “I’ve always been a man.”

…

‘WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?’

*****

“Of course Tsukuo-dono has always been a man.”

“Who doesn’t know about the King of Night in Edo, Danna?”

“Gin-san~ Why are you suddenly so interested in that bastard when I’m right here~”

“Oi, Sarutobi. I’m right here - By the way, why’re you asking around if Tsukuo has always been a guy or not? Did you lose your memories or something?”

Nobody remembers. Nobody.

For the last three hours, Gintoki has been running around the city of Edo after dashing out of Yoshiwara, just so he can find out whether the unearthly Dekobokko cultist have made their comeback or not. Unfortunately, nothing of that sort has happened. In fact, after asking Kyubei, Saachan and the Shinsengumi who once turned into the opposite gender knows nothing this uncanny event of his wife turning into the male version of her. Actually, his wife never swapped genders even when they did.

And every time he frantically asked the same damn question, their responses also stayed the same - “But Tsukuo has always been a man. We don’t know anyone named Tsukuyo.”

The statement itself is like a tight slap on his face. But what hurts more is that she is no longer here. Nobody remembers their marriage and…nobody remembers her.

His ring is gone.

All the wedding pictures and albums he once had in their little house are all missing.

And now that he looks at the empty shelf where they once had a beautiful framed picture of them kissing on their wedding day, Gintoki slumps down on the floor as he ponders about this absurdity he is currently in. Wasn’t it just this morning when he saw his wife leave for work before giving him a quick peck on his lips? Wasn’t it just a few hours ago when was planning to surprise his wife on their second anniversary? But now it feels like he is in a completely different world. And suddenly he is back to the same ol’ single and unmarried Sakata Gintoki who no longer has the amazing badass blond bombshell of a wife by his side.

In this sorry state, Gintoki recalls a memory from the morning where his favorite weather girl, Ketsuno Ana was announcing today’s horoscope predictions.

“For Libras, today, you may find yourself in an uncanny situation. Perhaps, your love life will be tested today under very confusing conditions but let me tell you, do not give up hope. As long as you believe in yourself and your partner, everything will turn out just fine.” The woman gave a bright smile from behind the screen as he flicked the TV off.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” The utterly confused and enraged man yelled at the ceiling without paying any attention to what his neighbors are going to think. Confusing!? No, this is a hellish situation! “OI WRITER! WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET ME LIVE AS A HAPPILY MARRIED MAN!?”

Even breaking the fourth wall didn’t work. Finding himself alone in the bland living room, Gintoki hopelessly looks down on the floor and then at his empty left ring finger, gently rubbing it. He is not a sappy man, never has been, but truthfully, the empty finger does not suit him anymore.

The day he found out Tsukuyo had been in love with him throughout the runtime of the series was the day realized how much of lucky bastard he has been to have someone like her in his life. Idiot he might have been for not acting on his feeling but the day he took his vows was day he promised he will not let go of her. Ever.

‘Then why the hell is this going on…?’

A knock on his door interrupts Gintoki and he lets out a heavy sigh. If it was any other day, he would definitely have answered the door. But right now, ignoring it seems like a better option. Must be the baba is what he thinks and then stands up from his place to go look for some strawberry milk in the fridge. Maybe that can help him cool down…even just a little. Another two knocks, this time louder, tries to get his attention but he chooses not to respond again. No way is he in the mood to have a chat with someone.

“Oi Gintoki! I know you’re in there!” A voice calls out for him. A very familiar voice that he just wants to…avoid right now.

However, his mission fails instantly when another knock comes in, making him rub his already throbbing temple.

Groaning, Gintoki turns the other way to greet the unwanted guest in his house. Well, technically that was her- oh sorry, his house too, but according to the current situation, calling him a guest seems more appropriate. Sliding the main door open - and deep down, wishing it’s Tsukuyo standing there – he finds the male version of his wife nonchalantly smoking from the signature kiseru with his muscular arms folded under his well-toned chest. His blond hair is now tied in a small ponytail and damn, he is a few inches taller than him.

“Why did ya run away like that?” Tsukuo asks, putting down his kiseru. And while he refuses to admit, Gintoki can clearly hear the concern in his voice which seems so…familiar. But this isn’t her.

“Just had something to do.” Shrugging, Gintoki tiredly looks at the man. “I don’t know what I was saying, sorry about that.” He lies, really not in the mood to explain whatever this is. And possibly, this man will not believe him.

“Okaaay.” Tsukuo trails off, confused at his dismissive behavior. “You okay now? You seemed a little off back in Yoshiwara.”

Oh, can he just stop resembling her so much!?

“Yeah. Can you just leave me alone? I’m gonna get some sleep now, my head hurts” He knows he is being an ass but this is for the better. Tiredly, he slides the door close only to find a tight grip on the doorframe and shoves it open again.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Tsukuo asks, slightly annoyed as he bends a little forward to look into the silver-haired man’s eyes. “First you act like you’ve seen a ghost and now you’re actin’ like an asshole?”

Hearing this, a vain pops in his head. He really can’t catch a break, can he? First, he sees his wife turn into this extremely handsome and muscular man who has lost all memories of their marriage and now, he’s supposed to explain why he is acting like this like a madman!?

“So, how else am I supposed to act, huh!? Act like everything’s normal when it’s actually NOT!?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” Tsukuo snaps back, confused at his sudden outburst. “Isn’t this normal, you moron!?”

“Oh yeah!?” Gintoki grits his teeth, feeling fumes coming out of his ears. “Maybe it would have if my married life hadn’t been suddenly erased from existence!”

“And when the hell did you get married!?”

“ ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO ON 21ST JUNE, AT THE END OF SPRING!” Gintoki screams out, making the passerbys look above at the two men who are now engaged in a heated argument.

“What the-!?”

Scoffing loudly, Gintoki throws his hands up in the air in utter defeat. “See! This is what I’m talking about! A few hours ago, I was a happily married man, planning to surprise my wifey for our second marriage anniversary and suddenly, I see everything is gone! Poof! Vanished in thin air like it NEVER existed!! And the worst part- nobody remembers my marriage, NOT EVEN YOU!”

Tsukuo only returns him another puzzled look. “And how the hell would I remember that!?”

“Because you’re the one I’m married to, damn it!” Frustrated, Gintoki jabs his pointer at the man’s well-built chest, only to realize what just he said and immediately rephrases his statement to, “Or should I say the female version of you.” and awkwardly pulls back his hand. “And now, suddenly she looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger and I’ve no fucking idea how or when it happened! I don’t even have any evidence to prove myself in this…this crazy situation and damn it, this all sounds so ridiculous!”

Silence follows and the two men stare at each other, one giving an extremely baffled look while the other groans in embarrassment. This is not going anywhere.

Covering his face his hands, Gintoki breaths out a long, exhausted sigh. “Listen, I think I need to clear my head. Can you just…go?”

The man doesn’t reply for another few seconds. Perhaps, he’ll just leave him alone now.

“….I’m not going anywhere.”

Gintoki’s ears perk up. Did he really just..?

“And I think it’s better if we talk properly.”

Finally, he looks back at the man’s earnest face. “Eh?”

“Let’s get outside.” His said wife suggests and turns to walk down the stairs. “I think you should tell me what exactly happened. Maybe that can help you clear your head.”

“You believe me?” Gintoki calls out, baffled at how serious he sounds.

“Not completely.” Tsukuo looks back as he steps down the last stair. “But I do know you’re not lying.”

*****

Tsukuo is popular, just like his wife. Very popular.

But fun fact, unlike Tsukuyo, who makes every other lecher look the other way with her intimidating glares, Tsukuo doesn’t seem to mind all these flirtatious wink and compliments that keeps coming at him from the opposite gender.

“You seem to have quite a huge fanbase in Edo.” Gintoki inquires. The two has been walking down the streets of Kabukichou for quite a few minutes now and the extra attention the tanned man keeps garnering is making the silver-haired samurai a little distressed.

“Well, can you blame them?” Tsukuo looks at him, smirking proudly.

“No.” Gintoki shrugs, glancing at another group of women eying Tsukuo, who literally has the body and face of a Greek god. “But I never thought you’d enjoy so much attention.”

“I don’t exactly.” The man casually replies. “But when someone wants to talk and spend time with me, I can’t just say no to them.”

“And you just said the typical playboy line. How convenient.” Gintoki mumbles, not audible enough for the man beside him to hear. He remembers the first time when he met this version of Tsukuyo back in chapter 441 in the Dekkobokko arc. To watch the serious, tsundere woman suddenly turn into a player who shamelessly flirted with his female version was such a shocker.

“Flowers have no beauty nor ugliness. If such a thing does exist, then it’s in the looks of a man that cannot admire both equally.”

“HEY, WHO IS THIS GUY!? A VIRGIN WOMAN SUDDENLY TURNED INTO A PLAYER!!!”

Gintoki lets out a sigh. Even though back then such a thing happened, the situation was, more or less, temporary. Tsukuyo’s sudden personality change was only limited to that one arc. However, from what he has come to understand here, this Tsukuo has always been…Tsukuo. Sneaking a glance at the man, he again finds him smile at another woman on the sideways who flushes bright red and shyly hides her face behind her palms.

‘Yup, this is not Tsukuyo…’

After another few minutes of silence, Tsukuo asks. “So, you were saying I’m your wife?”

“No. I’m saying my wife got replaced by you.” Gintoki replies bluntly.

Unnoticed, the man rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Do you remember what exactly happened?”

“What do you mean what exactly happened? I was on my way to meet my wife, but then I see you and suddenly everybody has forgotten about Tsukuyo and our marriage.”

“Yeah, you already said that. But I’m asking did something happen when you were on your way?”

Gintoki knits his eyebrows. “…Huh?”

“Did you meet any…shady fortune teller on your way?” Tsukuo inquires seriously, glancing at him.

“Umm..nope.” Comes his honest answer.

“Then did you inhale or drink something strange before?”

“Nooo….”

“Then what about the headaches you were getting?”

“Most probably because of stress. What about it?”

Tsukuo shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought maybe it’s some sort of a side-effect of some ‘magic spell’ you’ve been put into?”

“This doesn’t make any sense, you know.” Gintoki scowls at his absurd speculations.

“Well, this is Gintama. Remember when the animation staff decided to freeze you for an entire episode due to budget issues?” Tsukuo points casually.

“Yeah, I do remember tha-“

“Plus, this is a poorly written fanfi-“

“Please don’t mention the obvious to our readers so casually. It can ruin their reading experience.”

Tsukuo sighs. “So, nothing out of ordinary happened?”

“No.” Except for his horoscope coming true which he cannot tell him.

“Tsk. That’s a very cheap way to move the plot though.”

“Would you stop being fussy about the plot already?”

“I was just pointing out the errors.” Tsukuo says as a matter of fact.

“You’re starting to sound like Onishi-kun now.”

Tsukuo grumbles. “Fine, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Even like this, the nitpicky and logical side of her is still clearly there. And a part of him feels happy that it is there. As the two continue to stroll around the streets of Edo, Gintoki finds his lips curl upward for the first time in the last few hours, unaware of the blond man looking at him with him own small smile.

*****

The afternoon heat is now replaced by the breezy evening evening as the two make their way to a public park. Gintoki has no idea why they are still hanging out together. Or why Tsukuo still hasn’t left for work? Or why they are suddenly in a park and why does it feel like a date? Well, obviously he does not mind spending time with him – it’s actually quite refreshing – but still, Tsukuyo has always been a busy woman, a workaholic who doesn’t leave her duties behind, so, shouldn’t Tsukuo be like that too?

“Why’re we here?” Gintoki asks as he watches Tsukuo taking a seat on a nearby bench and stretches out.

Tsukuo, to his question, gives him a blank stare. “Because I’m tired of walking.”

“You aren’t even wearing any heels!” Gintoki frowns, pointing at his zori. “Tsukuyo can jump twenty buildings on her four-inch heeled leather boots and won’t even beat a sweat.”

Listening to his sudden proud comment about his wife, Tsukuo gives an amused smile. “Oh, that sounds interesting. That’s what I expect from the female me.” He gives himself a few pats on his shoulders.

Gintoki scoffs at his prideful gesture. “You’ve no idea how she’s like.”

Scooting a little to the side, Tsukuo taps on the empty seat right to him. “Wanna tell me how she’s like then?”

There is a moment of silence between the two before Gintoki walks towards the bench. “Oh, she’s just…amazing.” Taking a seat beside him, he grins widely, suddenly at a loss of words to describe his wife. “Sometimes even I end up thinking how I landed a woman like her.”

“You sound like a love-sick puppy.” Tsukuo chortles lightly.

“Well, I am a lucky man.” Gintoki shrugs, surprisingly unabashed by Tsukuo’s previous remark. There is a familiar sense of security in his company even though the man is the very much different from the woman he has fallen for.

“Well, you did marry me. Of course, that makes you a lucky man.”

His cocky response made Gintoki scoff in dismay. The moment he was starting to think they were a little alike, Tsukuo once again made him rethink his words.

“I didn’t marry a smug bastard. She’s the complete opposite of you.” Gintoki proudly replies, ready to explain his point. “Beautiful, serious, workaholic and definitely not a flirt - that woman can kill a lecher just by looking at him her venomous stare. And she’s called the Shinigami Tayuu in Yoshiwara. Well, formally, but you get how scary she is by that name. Hell, even I once became a victim of her wrath for ‘accidentally’ groping her before we started going out. Fortunately, she didn’t kill me then….”

Memories of the time flash in his mind as a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Actually, it was my fault so I really can’t blame her….There’s always been so much more. She’s always been so strong and kind and…so different from me. Someone that I thought a broke man like me could never have. But she still stayed…right there with me….That’s what made me fall for her.”

“…You really love talking about her, don’t you?” Tsukuo asks, smiling at the man.

Gintoki sighs, smirking proudly. “Boasting about my wife once in a while isn’t bad.”

Soon, silence falls between them. Without having any idea of the kind of face the man sitting beside him is making, Gintoki lets his eyes stay fixated on the bushes right across their seat. For some reason, he has been rambling quite a lot today. Was he always this chatty? No, as far as he can remember, he was not. Probably, it’s the heavy feeling in his chest that’s making him so talkative.

“…and, who proposed first?” Tsukuo first breaks the silence.

This catches the silver-haired samurai’s attention.

“Of course, I did.” Gintoki replies, turning to see the man giving him a shocked look that made his eye twitch. “Oi, don’t gimme that look! I saved for the ring!”

At this, Tsukuo gives him an impressed smile. “Who’d have thought, Sakata Gintoki would become such a hopeless romantic for his precious wife?”

This time, the playfulness in his voice makes Gintoki grunt in embarrassment but he chooses to answer anyway. “For her, it’s worth it.”

“Umm-hmm. But I’m pretty sure she made most of payment during the wedding.” Tsukuo cleverly remarks.

Gintoki sighs, nodding in agreement. “Yes. Yes, she did.”

Sneaking a glance at the blond man, Gintoki finds the blond blankly gazing up at the sky, a small smile adoring his lips as he closes his eyes and breathes heavily. Albeit all the striking differences, he couldn’t help but find a sense of secrecy surrounding him, much like her. And right now, his serene expression reminds him of the way she would sometimes get lost in her thoughts.

“Missing her?” Tsukuo asks after a moment of silence.

Upon hearing the question, Gintoki sadly smiles. “Of course…Plus, we haven’t been spending much time together recently because of her work so….yeah.”

“…you still don’t know what’s going on?”

“Nope. But my horoscope did say it’s gonna be a strange day.” Gintoki confesses as a dry laugh escapes his lips. However, Tsukuo doesn’t inquire him any further.

Suddenly, a sense of uneasiness envelops Gintoki. He quietly watches the kids run back to their homes while the sky now appears to be painted in a deep shade of orange, the sun slowly disappearing in the broad horizon. It is strange how everything seems so normal to everyone but him; everything here feels like a strange dream he is unable to wake up from.

For the last few hours, being in Tsukuo’s company didn’t make him feel lonely in any manner. No matter how different he is here, there is a sense of peace in with him.

However, this is not his reality. This is not the place he belongs to. And this person, at the end, does not have any feelings for him.

“I think I should go back.” Standing up from his seat, Gintoki decides to take his leave. A part of him fears if he stays any longer, he would forever remain stuck here.

As he walks away, Tsukuo call out to him. “Oi, where are you going?”

Gintoki can hear his footsteps now. “Home. And I’m hungry.” He replies without turning back.

This still doesn’t stop the man from following him. “How about you come with me to Yoshiwara? It’s better than staying up like some loner in your little house.”

This time, Gintoki turns around, skeptically looking at him. “Don’t you have work?”

“Nope.” Tsukuo shrugs and walks to him. “Hinowa told me to take the day off.”

Well, that kinda hurt. He didn’t even come on his own accord, that’s how bland their relationship seems now.

“Well. You’re free to return back to work, then.” Gintoki waves his hand dismissively, ready to leave again.

“There’s a new izakaya.” His immediate response stops Gintoki on his tracks as he hears his stomach growl hungrily. “My treat.”

*****

By the time the two reached Yoshiwara, it has already turned dark outside as the full moon shone brightly above, illuminating the night sky. The streets appear busier than it was during the afternoon as the two make their way to. But before that, Gintoki gets to hear all the Tsukuo fangirls welcoming him back to Yoshiwara after his oh so long, tiresome day. Damn, nobody even bats an eye on the Savior of Yoshiwara anymore.

“Tsukuo-sama, how about you spend your night with me?”

“There’s a new kimono I received, I’d love~ to show it to you~”

“But I wanted to serve you sake and enjoy watching the full moon with you~”

Damn it, he hated how Tsukuo is like a chic magnet. Yes, the man is handsome and of course, he cannot blame the ladies for being smitten over him but he has been seeing since the afternoon and now all these flirty gestures are starting to get on his nerves. First, he brings him here – basically bribes him with free food - and then, pulls off this shit!

Picking up his pace, Gintoki makes his way through the crowd, leaving Tsukuo behind. If that blondie is going to take his sweet time with his precious ladies, he might as well search for this new bar and get something to eat all by himself.

“Oh Gin-san!” A familiar voice call for him. His mind was so delved into Tsukuo’s apparent bachelor life that he forgot to notice he was passing by the teahouse. “Are you doing okay? ” Hinowa asks sweetly, walking towards him.

“Um…yeah. I’m-I’m fine. That was- I was asking those questions f-for a friend of mine. Sorry for leaving like that.” Gintoki nervously chuckles, scratching his head. It’s better if he just stay quite instead of bombarding her with another set of ridiculous questions like before.

“I see. That’s good to hear. I was worried.” The rave-haired woman politely smiles.

“Um, yeah. Tsukuo mentioned.” There is a hint of disappointment in his voice as his eyes fall on the dusty street. “But you didn’t need to tell him to take day off for me.”

“Oh, but he was way more worried than me. At first, he just simply went back to work when you left. But I could tell how much he was worried.” Hinowa instantly replies, catching Gintoki’s attention. “You know how that man is. Always working and acting like he doesn’t care when he actually does.”

Baffled, Gintoki looks back up to find the woman giving him her signature smile. “You mean-”

“AHHH HINOWA!” The loud voice quickly interrupts their little chat as Gintoki finds a heavy arm casually crash around his shoulders, making the poor man wince. “I’m treating this dude for dinner at Sato-san’s place.” Tsukuo fakes an excited grin.

Not noticing the slight blush on Tsukuo’s face in the dim light, Hinowa beams excitedly. “Oh, that’s great! Their bar is right around the corner. You must taste their kushiyaki, Gin-san -- Tsukuo, don’t forget!”

“Yes ma’am!” Tsukuo obediently notes and starts dragging Gintoki by his neck. “Now let’s get you something to eat!”

“I can walk on my own, damn it!” Comes Gintoki’s grumbling as he frees himself from Tsukuo’s death grip.

“Yeah, yeah, ojii-san.”

“Who’re ya calling ojii-san, bastard!?”

As the two continue their banter on the way, Hinowa lets out a chuckle, waving at them. “Enjoy you two!”

A few moments later, the two enter the new izakaya which appears quite crowded due to its growing popularity. The interior seems to be pretty much similar to Otose’s snack bar – with a bar counter stretching to their right and a few dining tables to their left with customers enjoying their meal – the lively atmosphere feels refreshing. But what catches Gintoki’s interest is a savory aroma of grilled meat around the room that almost made his mouth water.

Walking up to the bar counter, Gintoki takes a seat on one of the stools with Tsukuo sitting beside him. He watches the man take his kimono off and place it on lap, exposing his well-toned biceps that can make every man in the bar look away in envy. Yes, even him.

“Ojii-san, two beef kushiyaki and one sake.” Tsukuo signals the old man behind the counter who quickly responds with a “Coming right up!” with a big smile.

Gintoki gives him a surprised look. “You don’t drink?”

“Nope. Never have.” Tsukuo honestly replies. “Does Tsukuyo?”

“Oh, yes! She loves drinking.” the silver-haired samurai exclaims, remembering all the times when they trashed countless bars together after getting wasted. “But that woman is terrible at handling her liquor.”

This catches his interest. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Gintoki shivers at the thought of his drunken wife’s face. “Give her one drop of alcohol and she turns into a savage beast! I got my head smashed by a bottle of sake when we first had a drink together.”

Tsukuo lets out a chortle. “Damn, I guess it’s better for me to not drink then.”

“Good choice. I call her ‘the drunk terminator’.” Gintoki proudly declares the infamous nickname he once gave to his lovely wife.

The old man places their order in front of them to which Tsukuo gives him a generous nod before turning his attention back to their little chat. “That’s why you called me Arnold Schwarzenegger’s lookalike back when I came to your house.”

Gintoki chuckles and picks a kushiyaki from his place. “Who else am I supposed to compare the brawny male version of my wife with, then?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” With that said, the two dig in to their plates. “Itadakimasu!”.

Taking a bite of the flavorful kushiyaki, Gintoki hums in delight. “This is really good - Ojii-san, I’ll have another of this!”

“You really don’t say no to free food, do you?” Tsukuo shakes his head, not surprised by this habit of his at all.

“Well, you offered.” Gintoki slyly replies with a mouthful to which Tsukuo feels his lips curl.

The two then continue to eat in silence, with Gintoki sneaking a few glances at the distracted man who now has again started smoking from his kiseru after the old man offered his an ashtray. Something about this entire day feels off and yet, with him, he felt at ease. Still does, actually. Perhaps, it’s because Tsukuo’s the only one who knows about his condition. Or perhaps, he’s just trying to deny the fact that he’s, at the end, the same person deep down inside that he has always felt at ease with.

Gintoki recalls the horoscope news– your love will be tested – that’s what it said. Maybe, now he understands what the test really means. But to say it out loud to him; wouldn’t that make things awkward? Because, at the end, this Tsukuyo has no reminisce of the things they have shared together…And the last things he wants to be called is a creep by his own wife.

‘Just talk to him, damn it!’ Slapping himself inside his head, Gintoki pours a glass of sake for himself and chugs it down in one go, loudly exhaling at how unusually strong it tastes. However, before he could bring up the subject, he watches a middle-aged woman wearing a lavish kimono walk to their direction.

“Tsukuo-san, I didn’t expect you to be here.” The woman stands to his right, her silky tone didn’t going unnoticed by Gintoki as she casually puts a hand on Tsukuo’s shoulder.

Something inside Gintoki catches fire.

“Oh, Kirishima-san, what brings you here?” Standing up from his seat, Tsukuo places his kimo and generously greets the lady who, not so surprisingly, reminds Gintoki of a jorogumo. What about personal space- she even has the audacity to stand so damn close to him.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” The said sophisticated Kirishima-san replies as she coyly places a hand on his chest. “You haven’t been here the whole day, I was looking for you.”

Gintoki chugs down another cup, the burning sensation in his body no longer because of the alcohol.

“Oh, um, I’ve been a little busy.” Tsukuo nervously glances at Gintoki who seems to have been declared invisible by the woman while he continues to drink his sake. He looks furious. “Is there something that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, yes. Regarding the donation work.” Kirishima-san says courteously. “If it’s okay, would you like to come outside for a little?”

“Ah, yes, I almost forgot about it.” Tsukuo apologetically says as he escorts the vixen-like lady outside of the bar. Whether it’s just work or not, this Kirishima-lady definitely has ulterior motives.

From the corner of his eyes, Gintoki watches the two chat about something that’s pretty much inaudible to him. The woman says something and Tsukuo nods. Then Tsukuo says something and the woman flirtatiously giggles. From this little view, he could say how badly she wants to get into his pants. However, he feels his blood boil when the woman starts to seductively rub her hand over his left exposed arm, as if he’s her little plaything. And Tsukuo doesn’t seem to mind at all!

‘Hah! He really is a player!’ Immediately, Gintoki looks away before he could see that Tsukuo has politely taken the woman’s hand off his arm.

Scoffing, he drinks up the rest of the liquor from the bottle, sighing in satisfaction. Again, this wasn’t the first time he is seeing this side of Tsukuo but it would be a lie to say none of it…disturbs him. Not even a slightest. Of course, he understands the two are different and never can he ask the person to be someone else but still, isn’t this the same person? At this point, he really cannot comprehend any of such thoughts. And by now, he can feel the alcohol kick in, making his mind all dizzy and muddled.

“Ya know, Ojii-san, I’ve a wife! She’s jus’ the best in the world!” Gintoki slurs in front of the old man, his mind now all foggy. Never had one bottle of sake been enough for him. But tonight, it’s somehow started to show its effects.

“You are a lucky man, sir.” The old man smiles at him.

“Right~” Gintoki hiccups, a goofy smile now plastered on his flushed face. “And she’s called the Shinigami Tayuu, isn’t that cool!?”

“That’s a very great name, sir.”

“Wanna show me where she is?” Ginotoki giddily whispers, just like a little child who has found lost treasure.

The man politely nods “Of course.”

Directing his thumb outside the door, Gintoki points at the Tsukuo with lopsided grin. “There! That man with the blond hair my wife!”

Hearing his little declaration, the old man laughs rather awkwardly while Gintoki continues to ramble. “Isn’t that funny? Like, she was this really sexy, badass woman before but poof, she’s a sexy, badass man now! And seriously, I don’t ‘ave any problem with tha’. But she doesn’t even remember anything! She doesn’t even love me anymore and is now flirting with other girls!” Slapping the counter loudly, he lets out a dry laugh, making the customers nearby look at his direction.

“Sir, I think you’ve had enough drink today. It’s better if you return back home with Tsukuo-dono.” The old man politely says, now giving him a concerned look as if he is now some drunk who has lost all his senses. Seriously, who was he kidding? There is no chance anyone will ever believe his words. And truthfully, a drunk’s confession is generally considered gibberish.

Exhausted and slightly dizzy, Gintoki stands up from his seat. “That guy will pay.” With that said, he leaves the bar quietly.

*****

Staggering on his feet, Gintoki somehow manages to get out of the flashy and lively streets and enters a dark, deserted alleyway. The full moon shines brightly above him, fortunately enough for him to not lose his steps and stumble down on his face like some cheap, homeless drunk. His head aches and at this moment where he has no solution to whatever-this-is, giving up seems like the only option.

“Oi, Gintoki!” The familiar voice call to him…yet again. And just like this afternoon, he wants to avoid it.

“Will ya just wait!?” Tsukuo yells again, his breathing heavy as Gintoki finally stops at his place and faces him.

“…What do ya want?”

“Why did you leave like that?” Tsukuo asks, slowly walking closer to him.

“You seemed busy with the pretty lady so I left.” Comes his cold response, making Tsukuo stop just a few steps away from him.

Gintoki expected a cocky laugh. Instead he finds Tsukuo gravely looking at his direction.

“…it was work. Really.”

Oh yeah, sure it was work. It’s always work. Whether it’s in here or there, it’s always work! And goddamn it, he was so tired of listening. All he has been trying to do for the last few weeks is to be a good, supportive husband who does not nag his wife for overworking or not spending enough time with him. If he’s being honest, he was angry, really angry at everything. But the moment he tries to make things better, some stupid horoscope predictions decides to test his affection for his wife and now, he’s stuck here with an alternate version of his wife.

Despite all this, he decides to stay quite again. No way is he going for another round of ranting session. Exhaling sharply, Gintoki rubs his temple again. “You know what, instead of doing all this, I should be looking for a way out. But for some dumbass reason, I ended up spending the entire day with you and watched you smug ass getting constantly flocked by your fangirls who you just shamelessly flirt with while I’m constantly reminded that you are not the person I love when I know it’s not true!”

….He failed. He ended up rambling again.

And so to calm himself, Gintoki breathes in. A long, deep breathe. While the man standing in front of him freezes on spot, dumbfounded and speechless.

“…were you jealous?” Tsukuo finally finds his voice back and carefully takes a step forward.

“Of course I was jealous!” The permhead finally admits.

“Why?” And another step forward…

Gintoki scoffs. “Really? You’re asking me ‘why’?”

“Yes.” And another…

He sighs loudly. “Because I love you.” And Tsukuo smiles.

“Even when you are this flirty, cocky man! Even when you don’t remember a thing about us! Even when I know that you don’t love me here! Because whether you’re Tsukuo or Tsukuyo, deep down, I know it’s you. It will always be you. The same person that I happily devoted my heart to and there’s nothing that I ever want to cha-“

Before Gintoki can finish, Tsukuo’s presses his lips against his, shutting him up in an instant. And Gintoki freezes on his spot, his hands awkwardly dangling around his sides while his eyes widen in surprise. There is nothing too fierce and hungry about the kiss; it feels like the ones they always share after waking up, chaste and full of love. Slowly, Gintoki closes his eyes and returns the kiss back with the same favor as his. Unlike the soft and pink ones, his lips are slightly chapped. And yet, the taste and smell of smoke he has so gotten used to is enough to tell him that yes, he’s kissing the right person.

Shortly later, the two pull back. Panting, Tsukuo puts his head on Gintoki’s shoulder, hiding his now flushed face as they silently stand there, savoring this little moment.

“It’s good to hear that you still love me.” Tsukuo is the first one to break the silence, his voice a little muffled.

‘Still?’ Gintoki knits his brows, confused as he recalls the strange horoscope predication.

“Guess I’m bound to fall for you no matter what.” He can hear the relief in his voice as Tsukuo slowly raises his head. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

The test, this strange world…His smile said everything. “You knew…?”

Tsukuo doesn’t answer his question. Instead, he just lovingly smiles at him and says something else as Gintoki feels his vision get blurry, his face slowly disappearing before him as his voice gets replaced by the one he has been hearing for years.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve got something to tell you.”

*****

The stiff sofa cushion has made his back ache painfully as Gintoki slowly sits up, stretching his arms and legs to loosen up his sore muscles. Sluggishly, he scans the surrounding to find the bulb above him glowing and outside the window, its pitch black, suggesting its night by now. He doesn’t even remember when he fell asleep. The TV is right around the corner as always and so is the little shelf. And there are two frames kept there- one of the Yororzuya and the other of his wedding day…

“You’re awake.” His eyes snap open at the familiar….and feminine voice of his wife who emerges from their bedroom right behind him. Turing around, he finds Tsukuyo walk up to him with her nightgown on.

In an instant, Gintoki jumps up from his seat and rushes to his wife, embraces her in a tight hug and almost making her lose balance. “OhmyGod, Gintoki! What’re you doing?”

Even her yelp didn’t make his huge grin disappear as he held his wife close, breathing in her freshly bathed scent. “I missed you!”

“H-huh? W-what’s the matter?” His sudden confession made the woman turn a deep shade of pink.

Pulling back from the hug, he lovingly presses his lips against hers. “I’m saying I missed you, woman!”

Watching the joyous smile on her husband’s face, Tsukuyo feels her lips curl up too as she caresses his cheeks affectionately. “I missed you too, you foolish man.”

“I just had the strangest dream ever. All just to see that no matter what or who you are, I will always end up falling for you.” Placing a hand on her heart, Gintoki looks at the love of his life with the brightest smile on his face. “It practically called you my soulmate.”

Hearing this, Tsukuyo lovingly holds her husband’s face in her palms, her amethyst eyes and soft voice entrancing him for the rest of his life. “Soulmate or not, I’ll always fall for you, too. No matter what.”

This makes the man exhale a sigh of relief. “I love you.” Gintoki says and leans in to touch his forehead with hers.

“I love you, too. And I’m sorry I couldn’t spend time with you for the last couple of weeks. You even came to meet me today but I couldn’t make it.” Tsukuyo apologetically says and closes her eye, finding comfort in his embrace.

Instead of asking when he went to meet her, Gintoki gently presses a kiss on her forehead and looks back at her. “Don’t apologize. Just…don’t overwork yourself, okay? And take a break. I was thinking of keeping it a surprise but let’s go somewhere for anniversary, on a trip.”

To his offer, Tsukuyo happily hums in response. “Okay. Let’s go.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him for a hug which he happily accepts.

Gintoki doesn’t remember what exactly happened here; the dream is only that he has memories of. And yet, there is a part of him that knows that wasn’t just a dream. However, instead of pondering about the past, he’d rather live in the present. After all, he deserves this moment of happiness his wife after getting his mind bombarded by a strange ‘test’.

“By the way, I think I’ll have to take a longer break.”

At this, Gintoki pulls back a little, slightly confused. “Huh?”

Looking down, he watches Tsukuyo take his hand off her waist and slowly bring it to her belly while Gintoki looks back up at her, astonished and completely speechless.

“Looks like you’re gonna be a father again, Sakata-san.” Watching the sexy smirk adoring her beautiful face, Gintoki feels his face go from surprised to purely ecstatic. And in an instant, he sweeps her off her feet, spinning her around in exhilarating joy while Tsukuyo giggles warmly in his arms.

“WE’RE GONNA PARENTS SOON!”

“Hahahaha! Gintoki, stop it!”

“WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS SOON , BABY!”

“Yes, yes! I know! Now put me down!”

In between their giggles and joyous laughs, the two stop midway in their little celebration as Gintoki carefully brings the woman down. His wide, goofy grin never leaves his face and he once again presses his lips against hers, which she wholeheartedly returns. No way can he ever explain how happy he is now. After years of running away, after years of calling himself unworthy of love, he finally found someone who now shares her life with him. And never in this lifetime or any other, would he like to change that.

“Thank you for making me the luckiest man in the world.”

#gintsu #gintoki x tsukuyo #gintoki x tsukuo #sakata gintoki #tsukuo #tsukuyo #my fanfic #gintama

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monellabella · 4 years ago

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Here’s pt.1 1/2 (sort of) of “Fight or Flight”!! You can read pt.1 here . Enjoy!

Fight or Flight

Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

Warnings: cursing, food mention, injury/ injury mentions

Taglist (Just send me an ask to be added or removed) : @krasivayadarling @amourtentiaa @plant-flwrs @pineapplesandpinas @wonderfilworld @fictionalwhores

Something's gotten into you You don't really look at me the way you used to And I'm hoping it ain't true Every single rumor that I've heard of you say

You were off with someone that I don't know Calling other people on your telephone Kinda wish I didn't know

Since first year, Fred was always pulling pranks on y/n, but she refused to retaliate because then she felt like she’d just be a hypocrite, as she was always complaining about how stupid and immature Fred and George’s pranks were.

But by fourth year, after Fred had pulled a prank on y/n that ended with her being thrown into the black lake in the middle of JANUARY, she couldn’t take it anymore, and it was Game. On.

Y/n started out with the classic colored shampoo prank- Fred’s hair was turned a ghastly shade of yellow for over a week.

Fred got her back by transfiguring every one of her quills and pens into worms.

The pranks kept getting more and more outrageous as they kept trying to outdo each other.

While George and y/n’s friends initially helped them out and kept them in check, it got to the point where there was nothing ANYONE could say or do that would stop them- including the teachers.

They couldn’t care less about the myriad of detentions they’d each get whenever they were caught- in fact, they actually started COMPETING to see who could get the most by the end of the week.

This turned into them seeing who could get into the most trouble without getting expelled.

By April, this had led to a prank war between them that got SO bad, Dumbledore himself had to intervene and make them put a stop to it when one of the pranks resulted in a number of student getting injured- I’m talking broken noses, twisted ankles, chipped teeth, a black eye or two, and one poor kid even broke his wrist.

Needless to say, they both felt terrible.

They were brought to Dumbledore’s office and threatened with expulsion if they didn’t sort this out.

So right then and there, they agreed to a truce- promising to stay as far away from each other as possible, lest one of their arguments leads to other people getting injured.

They each received a month’s detention and were made to personally apologize to every person they’d landed in the hospital wing- not that either of them minded.

As promised, they also started ignoring each other entirely.

It was hard at first- y/n still thought he was a complete asshole and she wanted to remind him every chance she got- but she knew she was on incredibly thin ice with Dumbledore and was already threatened with expulsion, so she held her tongue.

For Fred, it was equally difficult. When him and George purposely made their potion explode, causing the entire dungeon to be filled with a thick, violet smoke and subsequently evacuated, he was so used to y/n chewing him he’d already thought of a response that was sure to get her riled up.

But then he was reminded of their truce.

While waiting for Snape to come and take away god-knows how many points from Gryffindor and give him and George detention, he saw her standing by the wall, arms crossed, not even bothering to look his way. She was chatting with Alicia as they waited with the rest of the crowd to be let back into the classroom to collect their things.

They would always complain about each other. Y/n was always more than happy to remind Fred that he was brainless fuck after every stupid comment or irritating remark.

Fred could write a ten-page essay on how much of a nagging cunt y/n could be sometimes.

There was no question- they hated each other. They didn’t “miss” talking to each other. And the fact that they hadn’t spoken in nearly two weeks was NOT the reason they’d both been acting strange:

“Hey, y/n,” said Alicia. Y/n’s head jerked up, “Hm?” “Are you alright?” Alicia asked, “You’ve been picking at your food for the past 20 minutes, you’ve hardly eaten anything.”

“Oh, um,” y/n sat up and cleared her throat, “sorry. I just sort of spaced-out I guess.” she looked back down at her plate and carelessly pushed the food around. Angelina and Alicia shared a look.

“Y/n…” Angelina began, “Are you sure-”

“Ange, I’m fine, okay?” y/n interrupted, “I’m just tired.” Angelina and Alicia looked at each other again. Y/n noticed it and felt a surge of anger start to bubble up in her chest.

Y/n’s jaw clenched, and she forcefully dropped her fork down over her plate. The resulting clatter grabbed the attention of a few students nearby. She pushed herself away from the table and stood up.“I’m going to bed.” She announced.

As she started walking quickly out of the Great Hall, Angelina and Alicia started getting out of their seats, “Y/n, wait!” Angelina called out after her.

But y/n just sped up, “Good-night!” she called out, lifting her arm up and giving a sarcastic little wave before dropping it down and exiting the Great Hall in a huff.

Fred was no better- he seemed angrier and more easily frustrated these days, and the dark circles starting to form under his eyes were a clear indicator of his recent lack of proper sleep. He was more quiet nowadays, which was extremely odd indeed. He’d constantly space out, and sometimes he’d catch himself staring at y/n in class, both of them quickly dropping their gaze any time their eyes met. Most noticeably though, was that all this had started to affect his Quidditch abilities.

“Oi, Fred, s’everything alright, mate?” George asked after practice one day.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, why?” he replied flatly.

“I dunno, mate, you just seem really distracted. You hardly ever miss a bludger but lately…” George trailed off. Fred sighed exasperatedly, “Look, I just have a lot on my mind lately, okay? For fucks’ sake there’s still some sort of bloody monster loose in the castle! a-and all this bollocks about me nearly getting expelled, I just-” he sighed in defeat.

“Well, d’you want to talk about it? Might help.” George suggested.

“It’s fine, mate. I just need some time alone.” Fred answered, lugging his broom over his shoulder and walking past the locker room as he made a bee-line for the castle.

Fred and y/n were enemies- it was a known fact. So then why was this sudden separation taking such a toll on them? The fact that they had an excuse not to interact anymore was a good thing…right?

About a month or so after the incident had passed, and y/n FINALLY had her free time back after serving all her detentions, y/n often found herself on the Quidditch pitch. She was hoping to join the team the coming year, and she wanted to get in as much practice as she could.

Late one afternoon after practicing with Angelina and Alicia, y/n decided to stay on the pitch after they left. She said she wanted to work on some new strategies, but really she just wanted some time alone.

While she was hanging on her broom by her knees, hovering a few feet above the ground, a voice called out “Nice trick.” She was so startled that she slipped off and landed headfirst in the sand.

“Oh shit,” the voice said as they rushed over to her, “Oh my god, I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you like that. Are you okay?”

She was ready to start screaming at whoever it was that made her nearly break her neck, but when she came face to face with Cedric Diggory, a look of genuine concern in his eyes, her rage seemed to subside a bit. A bit.

“Um,” she said, sitting up slowly, “Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?”

“No, no it’s okay.” Y/n replied. She turned her neck slightly and winced. “Um, actually, could you bring me an ice pack? There should be some in the locker room.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course. Er, I’ll be right back.” and with that, Cedric practically sprinted across the field. Y/n smirked, and couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at his fervor- but it was short lived as she felt another pain at the back of her head.

“Ow,” she mumbled. She gingerly placing her hand at the sight, where a small bump was beginning to form.

Luckily, Cedric had just come back with several ice packs.

“Thanks.” She said shyly. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked. “Yeah I’m fine, just a bit of a bruise probably.” Y/n replied, holding the ice pack to the back of her head. “Well, I’ll stay with you just in case.” He said.

“I appreciate it.” Y/n said chuckling slightly. Cedric slowly lowered himself onto the ground and sat next to her.

“So, um, just curious,” Cedric began, “where’d you learn to do that little trick on the broom?” Y/n laughed, and she began to explain where she’d learnt her unusual talent.

Long story short, they ended up talking until it was pitch black out and they were both shivering from the cold night air. Cedric walked her back to her dorm, using the excuse that he just wanted to make sure she didn’t have a concussion, though they both knew she was perfectly fine.

They walked as slowly as humanly possible across the grounds. When they got to y/n’s dorm, their conversation ended, and they both stood there awkwardly as each of them tried to come up with something to say.

Y/n was still holding the ice pack, which had long since melted, and was now slowly dripping onto the floor.

“I should probably get back to my dorm.” Cedric said, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck while attempting to avoid y/n’s gaze.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course,” she stammered, “yeah, no, don’t let me keep you.”

Cedric chuckled. He suddenly seemed to remember something and he looked back up at y/n. “Oh! Um, mind if I take a look at your head one more time?” He asked. “Just to be sure there’s nothing there.” He added quickly.

“Oh! uhh...yeah!” she said slowly, “Yeah, sure.” Y/n turned around so her back was facing him.

She then felt him gently pushing her hair to either side, his fingertips brushing over the back of her neck. She felt a shiver run down her spine, and she knew that goosebumps had risen up where his hand had been, though she prayed he didn’t notice.

“Where was it again?” He asked. “Oh, um,” y/n brought her hand up to where the injury had been, “ ‘round here somewhere, I think.”

Cedric placed his hand diagonally over hers, their fingertips at the same spot. “Here?” He asked softly. y/n felt heat rushing to her cheeks.

“uM,” her voice had gone up about five octaves. She coughed and corrected herself, “um, yeah. About there.”

Cedric chuckled lightly, and she felt his breath fan over the back of her neck. She quickly brought her hand back to her side as Cedric inspected the injury. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up.

“Well,” he paused, “I don’t see a bump or anything- maybe a bit red where you fell, but other than that, I’d say it’s fine.” Cedric took his hand away, then carefully reached over and pulled y/n’s hair back into place.

Y/n gave a sharp inhale and cleared her throat, “Well, um, thanks.” She said. Y/n turned around and looked up at him, “for, um,” she gestured towards the back of her head, “y’know, making sure I was okay and all.”

Cedric cleared his throat and blinked a few times,“Um- yeah! yeah, of course. No problem.” He said, a blush creeping up over his cheeks.

Y/n looked down and smiled to herself. “I’ll see you around then, yeah?” She asked.

“Yeah, definitely.” He replied.

“Okay, yeah, cool.” Y/n said, her brow slightly furrowed. “G’night, then.” She added. Her face relaxed as she glanced back up at him, trying to subdue her grin. “Goodnight.” Cedric replied. He nodded to himself then flashed her a soft smile as he turned on his heel and walked away with his hands in his pockets. Y/n bit her lip and grinned as she watched him walk away.

She felt her heart beating a little faster than normal, but she didn’t mind one bit. Feeling like her head was stuffed with candy floss, she turned to the portrait of the fat lady and gave her the password; still grinning softly as she walked through the portrait hole and into the empty common room.

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