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chatterbox-73 · 2 years

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.The ‘perfect’ girl.

.Part I.

.Iida Tenya x fem!reader.

.Teacher’s Pet.

By .Melanie Martinez.

Potentially graphic content, please read texted below.⬇️

Series summary: A seeming quirkless girl draws a lot of attention from her classmates and the other people surrounding her, after growing a cold and dismissive attitude towards her admirers, it begins to pull aggressive outbursts from them. This eventually leads to the girl discovering her quirk, ‘everlasting’. After a horrific “accident” which leads the girl to becoming a hero in training with the Hero Commission and finds herself becoming a UA hero course student… Will she find her place amongst the other heroes in training or will her misfortune get in the way of her’s and everyone else’s success?

This series is a character x reader multi part story, there will be graphic descriptions of disturbing content, so please reader the Content and Trigger warnings before reading each part, I do want to advise minors not to read this series. Thank you☺️❤️

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

⚠️READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED⚠️

A/N: I’ve been really into junji ito’s work’s recently, particularly ‘Tomie’. So it kinda gave me the idea for this fic. There will be multiple parts, however I’m unsure how many.

Summary: "It's for all the right reasons. Baby, don't care 'bout grades, just call me your lady. If I pass this quiz, will you give me your babies? Don't call me crazy. You love me, but you won't come save me. You got a wife and kids, you see them daily. Don't know why you even need me"

Word count: 1.5k

TW: grooming, pedophilia, cheating, slight bullying, death threats, arguing, toxic “relationships”, underage smoking and drinking, implied intercourse, violence, blood and injury.

Friday evening you had just finished sweeping the classroom floor, as the your best friend, who happened to also be your cleaning partner finished moving the desk and chair to either side of the room. “Hey, I have to pick up my baby bother today, can you take the keys to Sensei Hasegawa?” Rei asked as he pressed his hands together, you nodded and waved your friend off as he ran out of the classroom, you grabbed your bag before stepping out of the classroom and locking the door.

The school was quiet as you walked down the corridor, stopping at the staff room you took a moment to fix your hair before knocking and entering. As you walked in you noticed there was only one teacher occupying the staff room, “Sensei Hasegawa, I have the keys to the classroom and storage room for you” you walked over to the man stopped next to him, he hadn’t made an effort to look up from his phone as he spoke. “Good, give them too me” he held out a hand and waited, you smiled while placing the keys in his hand, “I made sure everything was clean and put back in the right places when I was done” you hummed and the teacher only nodded.

You hated when he’d act cold like this, Sensei’s usually so caring and attentive, but sometimes he’d act like you’re never even there, especially when others are around.

“You’re not wearing you wedding ring, what’s the occasion?” You asked and this caused the man to look up at you, he then stood up and towered over you. “What do you want? A cookie or something…” Sensei slammed his phone down on his desk as he snarled at you, you stumbled back slightly in shock. “If you must know I lost it yesterday when I was with you, did you take it?” The man continued to loom over you as he grabbed your shoulders and shook you slightly, you gasped and trying to wiggle out of his grip but it was too tight, “that hurts, I- I didn’t take it” you stumbled over your words as you began to cry, “please let go, don’t touch me” you sobbed as the man’s grip on you loosened and his features softened. “Oh I’m really sorry… I’m so sorry princess… I don’t know what came over me” the teacher hummed as he cupped your face and wiped your tears away with his thumbs, “you’re such a meanie” you sniffed as you grabbed his wrist, the man smiled and spoke softly “I know… I’m really sorry… but my wife is on my back about that ring” he sighed as he let go of your face and sat back in his chair. “Would you like me to help you find it?” You smiled as you wiped any tears still sitting on your cheeks, the man chuckled and shook his head no, “I have another way you could help me” he smiled and grabbed your hands, Sensei Hasegawa pulled you down to your knees then placed your hands on the tops of his thighs. “I’m so stressed, you’d be doing me a real favour” the man hummed as he leaned back in his chair and undid his belt and pants.

You briskly walked towards the bathroom holding a hand over your mouth, once in the bathroom you ran into the toilet stall and throw up, you loved sensei Hasegawa and that’s why you put yourself through doing such a disgusting thing, because of love, love was the reason that vial taste sat on your tongue and that scratchy ache stabbed the back of your throat, you loved him so much. After stepping out of the stall you watched your reflection; your once neat hair, tangled and out of control; your once crisp ironed shirt, unbuttoned and wrinkled. Not one part of you looked the same as when you walked into that office, but it didn’t matter to you because Sensei Hasegawa was happy, as long as he was happy it didn’t matter.

You fixed yourself up and washed your mouth out before going to the locker bay, as you got to the lockers and opened yours, you were met with the site of your shoes filled with nails, thumb tacks, razor blades and lying next to that was a note calling you a quirkless whore and instructing you to drop dead. You empty all the stuff in your shoes into your empty thermos and slipped the note into one of you notebooks, you then changed into your shoes once you were sure they were empty and then made the journey home.

Sitting on the floor of your room you grabbed a medium sized wooden box out from underneath your bed, you opened it and grabbed the stack of papers, photos and envelopes adding the new letter to it and before putting them back, you opened the thermos full with nails, tacks and blades and added them to the already large collection of sharp items, you then returned the papers back and closed the box before hiding back under your bed with a smile.

.One week later.

Walking out of the hotel’s bathroom dressed and clean, “the bath tub is so big” you smiled as you towel dry your hair, Hasegawa chuckled as he smoked a cigarette, “well of course it is, it’s meant for two… or maybe more if someone’s into that” he took a large puff of his cigarette. You took a seat next to him and watched his movements, “I’m really grateful, though I can’t help but ask, why did you take me here, Sensei?” You quickly looked down at your lap, you felt the man pull you onto his lap and forced you to look at him, “I’ve told you before it’s Haruto, and I brought you here to show you how sorry I am for a week ago” Hasegawa smiled and kissed your forehead, before taking another large draw of his cigarette this time he puffed the smoke into your face. You coughed and tried to fan the smoke out of your face, “hey hey, don’t do that” the man grabbed your wrist before repeating what he previously did but this time he blow the smoke directly into your mouth, you coughed more as you suffocated “here take a puff and you’ll make me so happy” he hummed as he placed the lit cigarette between you lips. You did what he asked of you, you did more then what he asked of you, you’d finished the cigarette for him, it was all to make him happy and it worked, for the rest of the night every time he lit a cigarette he’d also light one for you as well.

That wasn’t the only instants, it became regular thing for him to light you a cigarette whenever he was having one, he’d also started giving you glasses of alcohol whenever he had some for himself. However as the weeks past on you began refusing at you started to feel incredibly ill, you started feeling dizzy and nausea all the time, to the point you had trouble keeping down food, though you still continue to feel sick. Soon enough everything click, you were pregnant, you had to have been, you were so excited you almost couldn’t wait to tell Sensei but if you called him, he’d probably get in trouble with his wife. You went to bed that night planning how to announce it to him.

“Sensei Hasegawa wait a moment, may I speak with you” you called out as you walked up the stairs to meet the teacher who was coming down the stairs, you heard whispers from your classmates as they started to slowly walk to your homeroom. “Can I help you?” Sensei ask in a serious tone and you smiled before speaking in a quiet tone, “I’m pregnant… now you have a reason to leave your wife and be with me” you beamed, however your happiness was short lived as your heard stomping up the stairs, you turned to find your friend Rei and it the blink of an eye he was in your face, “are you crazy?!” He shouted and grabbed your arm, “have you lost it?! He’s too old for you, you need to get rid of it” Rei continued to shout now gaining the attention of the rest of the class, “mind your own business, I can do whatever I want!” You hissed and tried to pull yourself from Rei’s gripped, “why would you waste your life like this?!” He grip tightened and you twisting both of you around and push his chest, this caused him to lose his grip and you fell back. Your body tumble down the stairs and soon your body laid at the bottom of the stairs face down, limp and lifeless.

“An ambulance..! Call an ambulance!” Rei ran down the stairs to kneel next to you as a pool of blood started around your head, as your other classmates began gathering around you, Rei continued to plead for someone to call an ambulance. A girl in your class pulled out her phone and began dialling the number but she was stopped.

“Wait, don’t call…”

.The perfect girl. Masterlist

.The perfect girl. Spotify Playlist (coming soon)

Next part: .Favorite Crime.

#iida tenya #tenya #Iida #mha tenya #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #bnha #mha #bnha tenya #bnha iida #mha iida #fem!reader

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the-final-sif · 2 years

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My other AU I mentioned yesterday was my own Dreamon AU. I think a lot of Dreamon AUs are cool, but the part that I always get hung up on is why. Frankly it’s what gets me hung up on demononic possession in general. What’s the point of it all? Just to start chaos? Just to hurt people? To what end?

Well, I thought about it for awhile and ended up coming up with an answer of sorts; “Dreamons” or demons are parasites that infect hosts and feed off of them before taking control of their life in order to infect the people who are emotionally close to the host. This allows for reproduction and for the parasite to spread itself further.

Going with a sort of realistic-minecraft style, close relationships between players create connections in code that a specific kind of dreamon (akin to a computer virus) can exploit to infect other players regardless of physical distance between the host and infectee.

It can even infect these players across servers, and added to the fact that this type heavily prefers to infect admins, it’s particularly deadly.

The process usually takes a month or two for the dreamon to prepare the other players for infection, and then in a period of a few hours it exploits the connections and wipes out anywhere from hundreds to thousands of players.

At that point, a select few number of those players have their physical bodies used like puppets to move to new servers and infect new admins.

c!Dream gets infected not long after he opens up his own server, he doesn’t realize it until it’s too late. Until he’s lost most control over his body.

He’s trapped inside his own head with the Dreamon, with only very limited bursts of control.

Dream realizes very quickly that he’s in the worst case scenario. He’s heard storiesof dreamons like this, and he knows what happens next.

Past admins have tried everything. Every cure, every combination of potions, every attempt to rip the Dreamon from their code. Nothing has had success in the past. Nothing saved their servers.

But c!Dream has something that no admin facing this challenge before him had:

A willingness to commit to incredibly stupid sounding impluses regardless of the cost to his wellbeing.

Because listen, he doesn't have zero control, he just has very little control.

And sure, he could probably communicate that's he's infectes to the rest of the server, even if the Dreamon would fight him on that.

They could try to do the impossible and find a cure, and most likely fail.

Or, Dream could speedrun ruining every relationship he's ever had so the Dreamon loses the ability to infect others.

Is it a sane plan?

No.

Does Dream have any real idea how he's going to pull it off?

Also no.

But goddamn it, Dream is going to try! He has to. Because if he does nothing, quite literally everyone whose ever loved him dies.

#dreamons #c!dream #demonic possession #dream smp #dsmp #the dreamon hates all of this btw #but the thing is #it doesn't want to be detected #because after the first little while #when Dream initially tanks his relationships #the Dreamon doesn't really know what to do #Dream manages to convince it that his friends would send him to limbo to avoid infection #and also manages to create DreamXD to lock away his own admin abilities #now the dreamon usually infects admins specifically so it doesn't have to fear death #but without admin abilities #it actually doesn't know if it could avoid limbo #(also a new concept compared to normal server deaths)#so Dream can grab control of the meat suit for a minute #say something fucked up #and then the Dreamon has to try to 'yes #and' him #in the Weirdest improv game of all times #sif speaks #my headcanons #dreamon improv au #anyways I mostly like this AU because it means most of c!dream's actions are still kind of his #but it's got a purpose behind it

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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kuromochimi · 3 years

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From Yesterday

XIX: Come Clean

Suna x Reader

♡ You were particularly fond of collecting antiques and by some twist of fate, you ended up buying an antique box filled with mysterious love letters. Trying to find the person who wrote the letters, unexpected detours and bonds were made. Something more was found. And even more at risk of being lost.

Series Masterlist

Content & Warnings: angst, fluff, alcohol drinking, suggestive (and possibly sexual) themes, college setting, use of curse words, mutual pining eventually. Please tell me if I missed any! Pls ignore time stamps! Excuse my typos too :>

It there was anything to be grateful for today, it was tsukishima kei. You were sitting on the passenger seat of his car while he silently drove. You turned his way when you realized that he took a turn out of your regular route home. “Kei?” ; “we’re going to get some food. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

When he stopped to park at the diner’s parking lot, it was nearly empty. It was pretty late after all. He told you to wait for him before he stepped out of the car and entered the diner. He came out a few minutes later with paper bags at hand. He set them down on the hood of his car then he opened the door for you and motioned for you to take a seat on the hood which you did. He took out his fries and drinks then he handed you your usual order. You both ate quietly for a while. “kei why are we eating out here? They’re still open for dine ins” Tsukishima looked at you for a second “Because you might cry. And I know you hate it when people see you cry. Except me of course”. He wasn’t lying. You were indeed on the verge of tears and you didn’t even notice your tears flowing out of your eyes while you continued to eat. Tsukishima, who already had his handkerchief on his lap, took it to wipe your tear stained face. “There you go. So? Are you going to tell me what happened? It’s okay if you still don’t want to talk about it” you shook your head “maybe tomorrow, kei”. When you both finished eating, you immediately fell asleep once he started driving back home. He draped his jacket over you. He also dropped you off at yachi’s place. Tsukishima knew that your brother would be mad if he saw your puffy eyes so he covered up for you and told daichi that you were at yachi’s for a sleepover. He was driving back to his place when he caught sight of suna’s car parked in front of your house. Tsukishima pulled over and approached suna who was leaning against his car, standing there alone.

“What are you doing there?” Suna stiffened at the monotonous question tsukishima let out. “I’m waiting for yn, is she home? She won’t answer my calls.” Tsukishima stared at suna for a good few seconds before answering. “She won’t be coming home tonight. Do you need anything?” He wasn’t even trying to be hostile but even the usually stoic tsukishima kei couldn’t hide the tinge of venom in his words. “I need to see her. Talk to her, just tell me where she is”; “No. you know what, suna? You’re a good guy, yeah? But I’ve had to pick her up from your place twice. Both times she was a crying, emotional mess. I was holding back because I knew you made her happy but you made her cry twice in a month’s time. What the fuck are you doing?” It was an understatement to say suna was taken aback. But he knew tsukishima was right. He couldn’t deny the bespectacled man’s claims and he didn’t know what to say. “Look, I swear, I didn’t mean to make her cry both times. Please just tell me where she is so we can talk about it. You can even be there if you want, listen to everything” ; “That’s not my decision to make. I don’t intend to find out what happened. I just want you to stop hurting yn. Stop half assing your feelings for her”. And once again, suna’s words were caught in his throat. He couldn’t deny the words that tsukishima threw at him. While wallowing in his thoughts, suna didn’t notice tsukishima returning back to his car. “Give her time, suna. I feel like you fucked up big time. Giving her space is the least you can do”.

Notes:

- We’ve got 6 (or 5?) chapters to go aaaaaa T_T

Taglist: @littlegirlblackheart @darlingkuroo @rintarhoes00 @bakugouswh0r3 @ntimacy @lilith412426 @kenmaslov3r @maadaaaa @yshaaarin @goob-4546 @rintarovibes @ivana-an-iguana @moonlit-island @everytimeswift @ghostlyarcanum @a-katsukitty @kleeixe @kurosin @iworshipyelena @erinoikawa @littlemochi @dominikmagnus @akaaaashit @ahnneyong @stffychn @encrytpta @vivianwritess @daninaninani @certifiedsunarintaro @pagkaiin @liv-laugh-die @rietvellld @youngestdelacour @winunk @advocate-thoughts @gojoussunglasses @xmyshya @sumebreaks

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst #haikyuu scenarios #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna angst #suna rintaro #suna smau

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Shimmering

Jiang Cheng hates to admit it, but he’s nervous. There’s no real reason for it, because the people in his department are nice enough, but he can’t help himself.

Going out for them with a drink is different than working together with them after all.

He guesses the only good thing about this is that Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue will be there as well and he knows them a little bit better already after all.

Both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang have been incredibly nice to Jiang Cheng, helping him settle in after he decided to leave his father’s company—and therefor the family—and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know where he would be right now if it weren’t for them.

He knows Nie Huaisang a little bit better than Nie Mingjue, having somehow hit it off with Nie Huaisang but he knows enough about Nie Mingjue to know that he is everything his employees praise him about and then some.

Jiang Cheng guesses going for a drink with them will not be so bad.

He decides to be the designated driver for the evening though, because he doesn’t trust himself and his competitive streak when it comes to alcohol one bit and he doesn’t actually want to make a bad impression on any of his co-workers.

He shouldn’t have worried about that, though, he realizes somewhere around the three hour mark.

This evening is fun and even though Jiang Cheng isn’t drinking the good mood of the others is contagious and soon enough he’s pretty sure that you couldn’t tell the difference between the drunk ones and him.

It does help that Nie Mingjue keeps by his side all evening, Jiang Cheng has to admit that.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Jiang Cheng says at one point, leaning over a bit so he can at least pretend that it’s a private conversation.

“I’m not, though,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a smile and Jiang Cheng notices with a start that he has laughter lines around his eyes.

He never noticed that before.

“Really, now?” Jiang Cheng asks, the disbelieve clear in his voice and Nie Mingjue smiles even more, adding the dimples to the laughter lines.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. You seemed tense when we first went out,” he tells him with a shrug and Jiang Cheng has to duck his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I’m alright,” he lowly tells Nie Mingjue who nods and then puts a hand to Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yes, you are,” he gives back and then turns back to the table at large.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little bit longer to fully get back into the swing but when he does Nie Mingjue raises his glass at him and Jiang Cheng clinks their glasses together.

Nie Mingjue is smiling a lot this evening and Jiang Cheng can’t seem to take his eyes off him.

He had always known that Nie Mingjue is a very attractive man—only a blind person wouldn’t see that with one look—but now it’s the little things he keeps noticing about him. Like the laughter lines. Or the dimples. Or the way he slightly cocks his head when he listens to someone and the way he tries to give all of them the same attention.

Over the course of the evening Jiang Cheng also realizes that Nie Mingjue’s teeth are very straight and very white and from that point on it’s nearly impossible to take his eyes off Nie Mingjue.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little while longer to realize that beneath the perpetual tan Nie Mingjue seems to sport there are freckles to be found.

They are dusted all across his cheeks and nose and Jiang Cheng has to fight the urge to do something stupid.

He has never seen a man this attractive and he doesn’t even know where it’s coming from because he wasn’t that smitten with Nie Mingjue when he first met him. Or just four hours ago.

But Nie Mingjue keeps smiling at him, keeps including Jiang Cheng into the group even though for once in his life Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel like he’s struggling in a group at all, and it all does nothing but start a low simmering heat in his stomach.

Jiang Cheng tries to stick more to Nie Huaisang after that, because he can’t be fucking this up, can’t give in to something that’s probably unrequited and could potentially fuck up his job but even then it’s still a lot of fun.

They are out until the very early morning hours and Jiang Cheng feels drunk on happiness and the company.

It was a great evening.

He’s still whistling under his breath, walking towards the car, the people he’s supposed to drive home already a little ahead of him, the shimmering moonlight the only light to guide his way right now, when suddenly Nie Mingjue calls out for him.

“Hey, Wanyin, wait,” he says, and he tries to sprint up to Jiang Cheng though the alcohol in his system clearly makes it a little bit difficult.

“Mingjue, careful,” Jiang Cheng says, reaching out to steady Nie Mingjue when he comes to a stop in front of him.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Nie Mingjue asks and he looks so earnestly concerned at Jiang Cheng that he can’t help but to smile.

It prompts Nie Mingjue to smile as well and Jiang Cheng is yet again struck by how incredibly beautiful he is. It doesn’t help at all that he’s also a genuinely nice person and Jiang Cheng enjoys his company.

“I’m very sure. I didn’t drink, remember.”

“Yeah, but it’s late and you must be tired.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng says, though he can feel the tiredness creep in now that they all broke up and he doesn’t have the energy of the group to keep him awake anymore.

“Are you sure?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly still concerned. “Can you text me when you’re home? I just want to make sure you got there safely.”

“Of course I can,” Jiang Cheng says and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I’ll text you.”

“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then has to hurry back when Nie Huaisang yells for him.

Jiang Cheng watches after him, a smile playing around his lips before he gets into the car. His co-workers must not have noticed the little exchange because no one says anything and Jiang Cheng drops each of them off as quickly as he can, the tiredness now creeping up on him as well.

He’s actually glad when the last person leaves his car and he can finally drive home.

Once he’s there, he suddenly feels like he’s been hit over the head with a hammer—or as if he drank a lot of alcohol, which he didn’t—and the only thought on his mind is to get into bed as fast as he can.

He forgets his phone in his jacket.

~*~*~

When Jiang Cheng wakes up he feels like shit. He can barely open his eyes and he feels like he could sleep for at least another whole day, but one look at the time tells him that it’s already nearing midday. He really should get up.

He feels distinctly like he has a hangover and Jiang Cheng mentally goes over the drinks he had the previous night, but he can’t remember drinking anything alcoholic. He probably would have tasted it anyway, even if it would have happened on accident.

“Fuck, I’m getting old,” he grumbles as he hauls himself to the bathroom, but not even a shower really helps.

If this is how sleep-deprivation feels like, he vows to never do it again.

This is worse than having a hang-over, in his opinion, and he slumps over at the kitchen table once he’s dressed and ready.

But making food—or even getting something from the fridge—seems like too much work right now, and it’s not like he’s particularly hungry either.

They probably really shouldn’t have ordered that last round of snacks last night.

Jiang Cheng is still contemplating if it’s worth getting some food inside of him when someone rings at his door.

Jiang Cheng groans and has half a mind just not getting up, but the ringing continues and eventually Jiang Cheng drags himself over there.

“What?” he bites out as he flings the door open, only to blink in surprise when he comes face to face with Nie Mingjue.

All of his new observations from last night hit him in the face at once and he can barely stand to look at Nie Mingjue, that’s how gorgeous he is.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and it’s only then that he notices the panicked look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jiang Cheng asks, and his mind goes over all the possibilities.

He can’t come up with anything more than food poisoning though, and that doesn’t seem to warrant Nie Mingjue’s panic.

“You promised me you’d write when you get home,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng blinks in confusion before all the blood drains out of his face.

“Oh shit,” he whispers and turns around to get his phone out of his jacket.

It’s dead, of course.

“You didn’t write and then I couldn’t contact you this morning and you seemed really wiped yesterday night when we parted, so I got worried,” Nie Mingjue rambles and Jiang Cheng turns back to him.

It really shouldn’t be, but Nie Mingjue’s panic is really sweet and cute and Jiang Cheng is already so lost if he thinks like that, he knows.

“I’m okay, I just forgot,” he tells Nie Mingjue with a wince. “I’m so sorry. It really hit me how tired I am when I got home, and I fell into bed as quickly as possible. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine, that’s alright. I shouldn’t have panicked that hard,” Nie Mingjue says, but he seems reluctant to leave and Jiang Cheng finds himself reluctant to see him go as well.

“Would you—do you want breakfast? Or, well, lunch, I guess?”

“You still seem really tired,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering his question and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Maybe I’m getting too old for days out like this. Now, what will it be?” he then asks and congratulates himself for his braveness.

That happy feeling flies out of the window when Nie Mingjue continues to hesitate.

“I—lunch?” he carefully asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

“As—I just have to—as a date?” Nie Mingjue then gets out and Jiang Cheng goes hot all over.

“I mean—”

“Because I would like that, actually,” Nie Mingjue rushes on, not giving Jiang Cheng time to answer. “But if not that’s okay, too and we can just pretend that this didn’t happen.”

“Are you still drunk?” Jiang Cheng asks him, narrowing his eyes at Nie Mingjue who shakes his head.

“No, of course not. I had breakfast, I’m good. It’s just—I’d really like to go on a date with you and it makes me nervous, I guess.”

Jiang Cheng cannot believe how far gone he is already that he finds that endearing as all hell.

“I’d love a date,” he gives back and pulls Nie Mingjue inside of his apartment. “I was just debating if eating is even worth it today, but with you it definitely is.”

When no answer from Nie Mingjue is forthcoming he turns around to look at him and is surprised to see Nie Mingjue stare at him.

“I really like you,” Nie Mingjue blurts out, clearly as nervous as he said, and Jiang Cheng can feel how his cheeks turn red.

“I really like you, too,” he gives back and then pushes Nie Mingjue towards his kitchen. “Let’s talk about that over lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue gives back and it’s what they do.

They talk about it over this lunch and then dinner two days later and then lunch at the company again and at that point Jiang Cheng happily loses count.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #mdzsbingo #modern au #getting together #fluff #there's really not much to say about this

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

The Only Woman

Pairing: (Henry Cavill!)Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Requested: Yep - “Hello Ma’amMay I request a Sherlock Holemes x Redaer?That when they were younger she was BSF with Sherlock and Mycroft. And all of the sudden they disappeared and never wrote to her a letter or nothing. And she got closer to Enola and when Edoria disappeared she reunites with Sherlock and Mycroft and Reader is Mad and Sad that he left without saying nothing. She always was in love with him and at the end she finds out he also was in love with her! And lots of fluffThank You so MuchAnonymous (she/her/hers)”

Summary: Basically just the request

Warnings: Probably some swearing, some 20th century misogyny, pining, fluff, angst, denial, all that fun stuff, probably ooc Sherlock but we vibe with it because he’s soft af

A/N: My first full length Sherlock fic! I should mention that my requests aren’t actually open right now, especially not for full fics but I was inspired by this request and so decided to make it into a full one! I hope you guys enjoy, please remember to reblog, comment or send an ask letting me know what you think and if you want to see me write more for Sherlock (and Henry and his other characters for that matter) in the future!

Y/N had been essentially another resident of the Holmes household her whole life, having been introduced to the family through the two boys - Sherlock and Mycroft, whom she had run into while out playing in the woods. Her family lived in the house nearest to the Holmes residence, technically making them neighbours.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t exactly do ‘friends’, that much had been clear even to Y/N’s young mind after meeting them. She was a year and a half younger than Sherlock and yet she still knew more about interacting with other people than he did. Not that either of the Holmes boys had ever seemed interested in other people, they had their brains to keep them occupied, and when they failed to find entertainment in learning, they had each other.

Despite this, they took a shine to Y/N when they found her playing make-believe on her own in the woods and insisted that she come over to have dinner with them and their family.

Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone out of their way, following that initial visit, to make Y/N feel as welcome as possible at Ferndell Hall. At first this was simply because they were astounded that their sons had actually made a friend and seemed interested in maintaining this friendship, but then it was partially as a result of the somewhat turbulent relationship that it became clear Y/N had with her family.

Eudoria in particular had ensured that Y/N knew she could always come and visit, that there was a spare bedroom that could be set up should she require it, which Y/N only began to take advantage of as she grew up and the rows with her parents over her future became more frequent.

However, it was always Sherlock that she was closest to. While she considered Mycroft a friend, and he had grudgingly returned the sentiment, they had never clicked in the same way that Y/N had with Sherlock. Occasionally Mycroft would storm off midway through a game, frustrated by Sherlock’s intelligence which so trumped his and Y/N’s, or he would simply decide that he was ‘above’ having friends.

Sherlock never much minded Y/N hanging around though. Truthfully, now that she was grown, Y/N looked back at their years of friendship and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his reason for tolerating her company was because she gave him the awed reactions that he secretly desired from his intelligence.

She had fond memories of her childhood with the Holmes. At Ferndell she never felt the need to pretend to be a young lady ready to be married that her parents so desperately wanted her to be, even as a child. Mr Holmes encouraged her to continue her studies beyond what her Governess would teach her, and Eudoria actively tried to teach her all that she could, going so far as to teach her alongside her sons on occasion - Mycroft wasn’t exactly fond of that, though Sherlock appeared to enjoy her company.

And then there was Enola, a surprisingly timid child considering the family that she had been born into - though Eudoria was convinced that her shyness was a trait that she would soon grow out of. Enola adored Y/N.

While Sherlock and Mycroft paid their little sister no mind, too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge their baby sister’s, Y/N was fond of Enola. Having grown up in a male-dominated household with only brothers for company, she had always wanted a younger sister.

It was Mr Holmes’ death that changed everything.

Not long after his death, Y/N was saying goodbye to her two closest friends as they left for Boarding School. Y/N had promised to write to them and had been encouraged to do so by Sherlock, who seemed thrilled by the prospect of their continued communication and Mycroft had also seemed somewhat in favour of the idea.

Y/N wrote to the brothers for a year after they left. Her letters to Sherlock in particular were long and full of detail about both her life, her parents continued attempts to interest her in marriage and her attempts to further her education, as well as the lives of Eudoria and Enola.

After a year of these letters, however, Y/N had yet to receive word from either brother and thus, with a heavy heart, she had halted her letter writing and turned her mind away from the Holmes brothers.

Eudoria had ensured that Y/N still knew that she was welcome whenever she wanted to come over, however, and so Y/N’s life at Ferndell continued even with the absence of the boys she had considered to be her closest friends.

Y/N had been the first to be informed that Eudoria had disappeared, Enola having ran over to her house the day of her sixteenth birthday in a state of distress, imploring the older woman to help her. They had agreed that it was best for Sherlock and Mycroft to be contacted at once, with Sherlock’s career, Enola had been certain that her brother would make himself indispensable.

Y/N had been less keen on writing to the Holmes brothers, dreading having to see her old friends again, still far more hurt than she could care to admit about their silence following their departure. Every time in the past week that Enola had brought up the topic of her brothers, Y/N had been quick to change the subject.

A decision that she was coming to regret now that she approached Ferndell to find an automobile parked outside of it. Y/N bit back a groan, aware that its presence more than likely meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would be waiting inside.

Y/N didn’t knock before she entered, she never had as she had basically been a part of the family over the past few years.

She could hear the low mumble of voices coming from the drawing room, which were becoming steadily louder and Y/N’s expression dropped into a deep frown as she stepped towards the room, recognising Enola’s voice, breaking with emotion, even through the closed doors.

Before she could place her hand on the knob, however, the door was flung open and Enola rushed out, crashing into Y/N, who almost dropped the bags she was holding.

“Enola?” Y/N breathed, her hands gripping onto the young girl’s shoulders, steadying her.

“Y/N!” Enola embraced her tightly, though not before Y/N caught sight of her face, flushed red and eyes shining with tears, her expression the picture of distress.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why are you… in your undergarments?” Y/N asked in a rush as Enola pulled away. The teenager wiped fiercely at her face, clenching her jaw.

“My brothers are here…” Enola seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before shaking her head. “I wish to be alone.”

With that, Enola pushed past her and shortly after Y/N heard footsteps on the stairs. Y/N looked back to the door to the drawing room and caught a glimpse of a man holding a book, chestnut curls falling over his forehead, his brown eyes just visible, his brow furrowed as though he were frowning.

Sherlock was recognisable immediately. His eyes moved over to the door, away from the chair Y/N knew to be facing him in the room which she assumed seated Mycroft, and his book lowered, his head raising and his lips parting in slight surprise - an expression that Y/N had never seen on him in the entire duration of their friendship.

Before he could say anything, however, Y/N turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said from where she was kneading bread dough on the kitchen counter.

“Morning, Mrs Lane - I see that Enola’s brothers have arrived.”

“Yes, they got here yesterday,” Mrs Lane confirmed as Y/N placed down the bags of food she had bought and began to unpack them into the pantry. Knowing how overworked Mrs Lane had been, staffing the house alone, particularly since Eudoria’s absence, Y/N had taken to doing the food shopping for them.

“Enola seemed very upset,” Y/N said, unable to conceal her worry.

“Yes - Mr Mycroft has been less than impressed by both the state of the house and Enola herself.”

“Why?” Y/N demanded, her frown deepening, the beginnings of anger festering in her stomach.

“He doesn’t think Mrs Holmes did a good job of raising her,” Mrs Lane looked equally disgusted by the words even as she spoke them. “He wishes to send her to a finishing school to turn her into a proper lady.”

“But can’t he see that she’s happy here?”

“I don’t think Mr Holmes much cares,” Mrs Lane admitted.

“What does Sherlock think of all of it?”

“He has been rather silent on the matter, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said, shaking her head and sighing. “I fear Enola has been rather disappointed by the brother she so idolised.”

“She said she wished to be alone for a while,” Y/N said, leaning on the counter and rubbing her forehead, wanting to ease out the deep concern she was feeling for the girl she had come to think of as a sister. “I’ll try and talk to her in a little bit,” she decided and Mrs Lane nodded her approval.

Y/N ventured out into the garden half an hour later, figuring that that was ample time for Enola to think it over for herself. Y/N knew exactly where the Holmes daughter would be, she knew that Enola had a favourite tree in the garden where she would go, should she want to get away from the house for a little bit.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find Sherlock walking back from the direction of the very tree Y/N knew Enola to be hiding in. He looked deep in thought, but there was no denying the very slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Y/N allowed her head to fall, her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that there was even the smallest chance that Sherlock may not notice her.

“Y/N - it was you I saw,” there was an edge of something like delight in his voice as he spoke and Y/N wanted to look up, to see his expression, to confirm that he was smiling as he acknowledged her.

Instead, she chose to ignore him and attempted to continue walking.

“Y/N!” Sherlock called, and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her arm, pulling her ever-so carefully back to stand in front of her.

“Mr Holmes,” Y/N returned his greeting, lifting her head to watch his features fall into a slight frown.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be here,” Sherlock said, his eyes searching hers.

“I was always welcome at Ferndell,” Y/N responded stiffly. “Now I must go and speak with Enola,” she said, turning ready to leave him.

“Y-” Sherlock cut himself off from saying her name. “Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected, and Y/N risked a glance at her old friend over her shoulder, seeing his brow crinkled in confusion, an expression that she had rarely seen during their childhood.

“Yes, Mr Holmes?”

“How have you been?” Sherlock was floundering, that much was obvious. All the articles about him that Y/N and Enola had read, all her memories of him from her younger years had always portrayed him as being calm, collected, ready with his words. Seeing him now, in this state of uncertainty, caused by seeing her for the first time after so many years, it brought her a sense of satisfaction.

“Fine thank you, now if you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t give Sherlock a chance to respond, walking away from him as quickly as possible, though she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left him behind.

Enola was sitting on the grass at the base of the tree, her back pressed up against it, her sketchbook balanced on her lap but her eyes were glazed over and looking at the scenery rather than at the pages.

“Can I join you?”

The teenager started, her eyes widening in slight shock but then she relaxed as her eyes landed on Y/N, who she offered a small, tired smile and nodded her head. Once Y/N had seated herself on the ground, Enola scooted over to rest her head on her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I’m glad to see you’ve put on clothes now,” Y/N finally broke the silence and the younger girl laughed a little.

“Apparently my proportions are incorrect,” Enola informed her.

“Yes, I often find myself thinking that,” Y/N teased and Enola giggled again, playfully elbowing Y/N in the side. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to go to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School for Young Girls.”

“Finishing school is the worst,” Y/N agreed.

“I remember when you went,” Enola murmured. “Mother said you hated it.”

“I did,” Y/N confirmed. “I begged my parents every holiday to not send me back, I think I even asked your mother at one point to adopt me so that I wouldn’t have to go,” Y/N chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. “It was a source of great amusement for my brothers.”

“Mine too,” Enola said darkly. “Mycroft is an utter pig, you know.”

Y/N laughed again at the choice of words.

“Family reunion didn’t go quite as planned, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a hat or gloves,” Enola sighed.

“So off to finishing school?”

“The only logical course of action,” Enola agreed, her tone biting. “You were friends with them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, wary of where this conversation was going. “But I stand no chance of changing their minds. Mycroft was always stubborn, even when we were children, and I haven’t seen them since they went to boarding school.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help,” Y/N said, her heart aching for the young woman.

“It’s okay,” Enola murmured. “I was just wondering, though… Sherlock was talking about me as a child - you must have known me at the same time as him, yes?” Y/N nodded her confirmation. “I think I have more memories of you than him or Mycroft.”

“I spent a lot of time with you,” Y/N shrugged.

“He said that I used to drag a pinecone around with me.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing as the memory struck her.

“Oh yes - a little pinecone, wrapped in wool that you dragged around on a string because of Queen Victoria’s spaniel. Called… Dash? I think?”

“That’s what Sherlock said, yes,” Enola straightened up, a slight grin on her face. “So it’s true?”

“Yes, you were rather obsessed with the thing,” Y/N confirmed, still chuckling a little. Silence fell between them, comfortable and thoughtful.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What were my brothers like growing up?”

Y/N thought hard before answering, her mind going back to her childhood.

“They were fun,” Y/N said at last. “They both knew that they were smarter than me, and I think that that was at least part of the reason they kept me around. Sherlock would teach me things - things that my Governess wouldn’t have thought I ought to know…” Y/N trailed off. “They were kind,” she admitted at last. “Albeit a little aloof at times, a little arrogant, they were always kind to me. I think Sherlock could tell immediately that I was unhappy with my family, and that was why they brought me to Ferndell,” Y/N confided.

“Mycroft was kind to you?” Enola asked, staring at her wide-eyed.

“He didn’t know any better until he went out into the world,” Y/N replied, smiling a little.

“I won’t let him send me to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School For Girls,” Enola stated defiantly.

“No,” Y/N agreed. “I don’t think that you should.”

///

Y/N was reading outside when the maid came to see her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there’s a Mr Holmes here to see you,” Freya spoke, her eyebrows raised just a tad in a teasing way, indicating that she thought it was a romantic house-call. Y/N frowned in return.

“Mr Holmes?” She repeated. “Not Enola?”

“If it’s Enola then she’s certainly changed a lot since I last saw her,” Freya said. “Mr Holmes is in the drawing room.”

Y/N closed her book and stood, following the maid inside, through the house and into the drawing room. She pushed the door open, still confused as to why either of the Holmes brothers would feel the need to make a house call to see her.

Sherlock was standing in the drawing room, his back to her as he stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. She closed the door as quietly as she could, but the soft sound caught the attention of the detective anyway. Sherlock turned and offered her an unsure, gentle smile.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes,” Y/N said, bowing her head just slightly towards him. She thought she saw Sherlock’s smile falter just a tad before he returned her greeting. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m afraid I bring some bad news,” Sherlock said, walking away from the fireplace. Y/N stepped further into the room and indicated a chair. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down, Y/N seating herself in the armchair across from him. “Enola has run away.”

“Is that really all that surprising?” Y/N sighed, though his words did immediately cause her to worry for the young girl.

“Were you aware of what she was planning?” Sherlock asked.

“No. It just doesn’t surprise me.”

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, seemingly analyzing her expression and finally he gave a slow nod of his head.

“So I take it that she hasn’t contacted you at all?” He asked.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday when I left Ferndell,” Y/N confirmed, attempting to keep her features as neutral as possible.

Sherlock frowned at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Even if she had, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But you can’t blame me for that. We both know that Finishing School is not where Enola’s time would be best spent. Besides, from what she told me Miss Harrison seems a foul woman.”

She thought she saw Sherlock’s lips twitch as though he wanted to smile, but then he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.

“You know, there was a time when you would tell me everything,” he reminded her.

“And there was a time that you found me utterly insufferable for that,” Y/N countered, her words sounding like she was spitting venom at him.

“I never found you insufferable,” Sherlock said, a chuckle in his voice.

“Is that so?” Y/N mused, quirking her eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps a little slow at times, but I wouldn’t take that personally,” she hated how teasing he sounded, as though nothing had changed since he left. Sherlock clearly picked up on the anger festering in the pit of her stomach and spoke again before she had time to lash out. “But I never found you insufferable.”

Y/N made a noise conveying how unconvinced she was by his words and she stood from the chair.

“If that’s all…”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed with something similar to disappointment before he, too, stood and adjusted his suit jacket slightly.

“Yes… that’s all,” he said. “I thank you for your time.”

Y/N nodded and watched as Sherlock crossed the room to stand in front of the door, reaching out a hand towards the doorknob. Before he could turn it, though, Y/N was hit by a sudden wave of concern.

“Mr Holmes?”

The man paused and looked back at her over his shoulder at her.

“You… if you find her, or here anything… could you let me know? She’s only young… I worry about her.”

Sherlock bowed his head in a sign of consent.

“I will keep you updated, I promise.”

“Thank you… Sherlock.”

Just as Sherlock had promised, he kept her updated on the situation with Enola as best as he could and she received letters from him every other day, even if he had found no new leads.

On the days that he had nothing new to report, his letters were filled with updates about his own life, general musings, his theories about both Enola’s whereabouts and other, unofficial cases that had caught his eye.

In short, they were the most un-Sherlock-like letters that Y/N could have ever imagined receiving and every time the post came she felt her heart lift in hope that there would be another one for her.

The only letter that Y/N had replied to, however, was one dated about a week and a half after Enola’s disappearance, in which Sherlock told her that he had asked Mycroft to pass over his duties and to make Enola his ward, filing Y/N in on the details about what had happened with Enola and the case of the missing Maquis. Sherlock had also let her know that he had attempted to make contact with his sister via newspaper and that she had indeed come to the meeting spot but had been disguised.

From the tone of that letter, it had been clear to Y/N that Sherlock truly cared for his younger sister, and that he knew that she would be capable of taking care of herself despite the worry that he so clearly felt over her.

After having received a response from Y/N after that letter, Sherlock had implored her to keep replying, but Y/N had not. She was afraid of falling into the same trap that she had when they were kids - of allowing herself to get too close to him, to feel something for him, when it was never going to go anywhere.

Y/N had allowed her heart to be broken by Sherlock Holmes once before, when she was too young to truly understand matters of the heart. She wasn’t going to do it again.

About a week after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Enola and Tewkesbury, however, Y/N got another surprise in the post. A letter from Enola herself, detailing Y/N with much of the same information that had already been given to her by Sherlock, though with more detail and far more reassurance that she truly was safe and secure and comfortable in her newfound lodgings in London.

In the final paragraph of the letter, there was a plea from Enola, imploring Y/N to go and visit her in London - she had attached a date for the following week and the address of a cafe that she said she thought Y/N would appreciate.

And so Y/N found herself boarding a train the next week, ready to meet Enola in London, agreeing to stay with her for a couple of days so that they could properly catch up.

Just as she was settling into the carriage, the train about to leave the station, the door slid open again and a familiar face appeared.

“May I join you?” Sherlock asked, a somewhat nervous smile on his face. Y/N returned it and nodded her head.

“Of course,” Sherlock entered into the compartment, closing the door behind him and placing his bag onto the overhead luggage rack and taking the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that you were back here?”

“Only for a night - Mycroft demanded my help,” Sherlock explained. “I thought about visiting you, but I was unsure of how much it would be appreciated,” he added. Y/N bowed her head a little, finding herself unable to maintain eye contact with him. “You didn’t reply to my letters.”

“Yes I did.”

Y/N risked a glance up and saw Sherlock’s lips quirk a little, holding back a smile.

“I apologise - you replied to only one of my letters.”

“That’s one more than you replied to of mine,” Y/N pointed out, raising her eyebrows challengingly. Sherlock didn’t even attempt to keep his smile at bay, grinning at her in the familiar cheeky way that Y/N remembered from their childhood.

“I wasn’t aware of how good you were at bearing grudges,” he mused, leaning back in his seat.

“Well perhaps if you’d come to visit you would have realised,” Y/N muttered, opening her bag that rested on the chair beside her and pulled out the book she was reading.

Before she could open it, though, Sherlock’s hand pressed down on the cover, preventing her from doing so.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” he whispered and when Y/N met his eyes again they were so filled with genuine apology and concern.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what an apology was,” but she smiled a little, seeing how Sherlock’s eyes brightened

“Well I’ve been attempting to catch up on them as of late.”

“Enola?”

“I have yet to find her to give her one,” Sherlock confessed, leaning back at last. “You’re going down to see her, aren’t you?”

Y/N knew there was no point in denying it, Sherlock was always capable of telling when people were lying. He had always been particularly quick at picking up on Y/N’s lies as well when they were children.

“Yes - she wrote inviting me down last week,” Sherlock nodded slowly.

“Would you… would you let me know that she’s safe - that her lodgings are comfortable?”

“I’ll let her know you asked,” Y/N said instead, her voice quiet and full of understanding.

“Thank you,” Sherlock swallowed hard.

Silence fell between them. The most comfortable silence that had existed between them since their reunion.

“I did miss you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I left home - I did miss you. I know you think I didn’t, and it’s understandable, but I did,” Sherlock confessed.

“Why didn’t you reply?” Y/N asked and she hated the desperation in her voice, the plea to understand why so many years had passed in silence. “Why didn’t you come and visit?”

“I don’t have a good reason for why I did - or didn’t - do any of it. And I’m so sorry,” Sherlock sighed but Y/N frowned at him, noticing how his gaze briefly dropped her own as he spoke, how his fingers fidgeted slightly on his lap.

“I know you’re the detective of the two of us, but I know when you lie, Sherlock Holmes,” Y/N didn’t know what made her do it, but she lent forwards and grabbed one of his hands between her own. “Tell me the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock studied her hard for a long minute, his eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every inch of her features and there was an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

“Mycroft used to… make fun of me, when we were children. Because he knew how I… how I felt about you. I’ve never quite… understood why he did, he always liked you, even if he never admitted it, but I hated it. I hated Mycroft making fun of me, it made me feel like he was smarter than me…” Sherlock’s cheeks reddened. “I did not mean for that to sound as conceited as it did.”

“To be fair, you were quite a conceited child,” Y/N teased, squeezing his hand and Sherlock chuckled. “But… what do you mean, how you felt about me?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, I always was a little slow,” she grinned, “at least compared to you.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she could barely breathe from the excitement at the idea that Sherlock was hinting at what she thought he was.

“You have to know by now that you are the only woman who I have ever held a place for in my heart.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders bashfully. “Or you were.”

“Enola?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. He lifted her hand tentatively up, pressing his lips gently against the back of it, keeping his gaze lowered. “I just hope that you know you never left it.”

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, the two of them having the final catch up that had been missing for so many years, everything feeling as though it was falling back into place, just like everything had been when they were kids.

By the time the train pulled into the station at London, Y/N had no desire to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, and by the way he loitered with her on the platform, it appeared that the sentiment was returned.

“Where are you headed?” Sherlock inquired. “I know Enola wouldn’t want you to tell me her address, but…”

“I’m actually meeting her at a cafe,” Y/N told him, adjusting her grip on her bag and smiling at him.

“In that case… would you allow me to escort you? London can be rather confusing at times, especially for those used to the country lifestyle,” he suggested and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was blushing a little in embarrassment.

“I would appreciate that yes, thank you Sherlock,” she agreed and Sherlock offered her his arm.

Enola did not seem overly surprised at Sherlock’s presence beside Y/N. There was a slight raise of her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her face and a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she walked over to them, her arms laden with a bunch of yellow roses.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said, completely bypassing her brother and embracing Y/N as carefully as she could with the flowers in her hands.

“I was so happy to hear from you, I was so worried about you,” Y/N told her, pulling away and examining her surrogate sister for any trace of hurt.

“I promise I’m fine,” Enola laughed, holding out the flowers for her. “I bought these for you, though.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

Enola’s eyes slid over to Sherlock at last, who was standing awkwardly to the side. Y/N could sense how his own gaze was flicking continuously between herself and his sister, clearly overjoyed at seeing her again but also wanting to continue the conversation he and Y/N had been holding on the train.

“It’s more of an apology, actually,” Enola mused. “I’m afraid that something has come up and my assistance is required… elsewhere. Perhaps Sherlock would take my place?” She raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“I-uh-”

“Fantastic!” Enola cheered, hugging Y/N once more and giving a nod to her brother before rushing away.

“Did your sister just set us up?” Y/N asked, turning to face the younger Holmes brother.

“I think so,” Sherlock confirmed. “For what it’s worth, she hasn’t gone far, I believe she has every intention of snooping on us.”

Y/N laughed at that piece of knowledge, rolling her eyes affectionately at Enola’s antics before placing her hand once more in Sherlock’s arm. He reached across her to take her bag to allow her to hold the flowers.

“Well we wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?” Y/N said, nodding towards the door to the cafe, not missing the affectionate smile it brought to Sherlock’s face.

As he held the door open for her, Y/N reached up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes imagine #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #enola holmes #enola holmes fanfiction #courts writings

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Tangy Starfruit and White Sea Foam (Tiger!Todoroki x Reader)

Warnings: none, unless you count ridiculous amounts of fluff and shenanigans (oh and cursing). hints of BKDK and Kami x Jirou, pro-hero AU, aged-up!AU, Todoroki’s a tiger as a result of a quirk accident that happened on the job. Todoroki and reader are in a established relationship. Bakugou gets tied to a tree, Shinsou and Tsuyu are good friends, you and Todoroki may have a mishap on your hands in the near future. Featuring the rest of class A + Shinsou.

A/N: third and final piece for @ultimate-astridwriting ‘s hybrid collab!! i had an entirely different thing written out for tiger todoroki, it was 2.5k words full of angst bc real life is shitty atm but then bam, i got an idea while eating dinner and now here we are xD. get ready for sun and sand at the beach with a graduated class A!!

Words: 7k

Golden sun raised high in the sky scorched the earth below, turning the pristine white sand into scalding hot lava. But that didn’t hold back the group of 22 from surging forth.

Happy squeals that tumbled from the girls as they caught sight of the sparkling blue waves dancing on the horizon turned into wheezing laughs and yelps as the sand burned their bare feet.

Jirou whooped, a wide smile stretched across her face as she grabbed Yaoyorozu’s hand. “Last one in is a rotten egg!!”

“No fair, Kyoka-chan!!” Uraraka huffed as she pumped her short legs to go faster and catch up.

Kaminari hollered obnoxiously, screaming all the way into the ocean as he tore right past you.

“Do not run!!!!” Iida yelled, trying to make himself be heard above the clamor but to no avail.

You smiled at him sympathetically but he merely shook his head and followed after them to make sure none of his former classmates hurt themselves.

They’re lucky to have you… You thought to yourself, clapping a hand over your mouth when the sound of him scolding Mina and Sero reached your ears from all the way across the deserted beach.

You had found this isolated spot a long time ago, back when you lived on your own and had yet the privilege of calling anyone family. This was a place of comfort for you, a gem hidden away from the greedy eyes of the world looking to corrupt anything and everything that was pure.

Here, you found solace. You found peace.

After you graduated from UA and everyone was giving each other teary goodbye hugs in the common floor filled with all the boxes of things they all had to move into moving trucks, you offered up one day. One day, if everyone wanted to come, you would show them a place very special to you.

The girls had a vague idea of where you guys were going based on the swimsuit dress code. In all honesty, maybe you should’ve made it a little harder for them, but they were your friends. And you were too excited.

Here, on this beach hidden by dense foliage and sheer cliffs, your little piece of paradise remained a secret. Until now.

“Y/N, come on!!!” Hagakure shouted, waving excitedly for you to join them.

“In a minute!!” You yelled back, looking back to see if your boyfriend was following. “Shouto?”

You spun around in a full circle when you couldn’t find him, a frown twisting your features until Shoji came up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder.

“He’s coming.” He told you, jerking his chin back a few paces the way you guys came to signal where he last saw him.

You shot him a look of relief for his well-timed reassurance. “Thanks.”

Shoji dipped his head, hoisting the basket slung over his shoulder higher as he motioned for Tokoyami to pass you. “No problem.”

A skeptical Tokoyami followed the gentle giant, muttering under his breath why the use of quirks had to be banned for today. Koda waved to you shyly and you smiled.

Iida had made it a rule for the day that no quirks were allowed to be used unless in case of an emergency. This was to do damage control and hopefully prevent a fight between Bakugou and literally anyone else.

No one had any arguments. They were all here to relax, not think about their work life. All villains and life outside of this paradise was put on hold until tomorrow came.

You decided to wait until Todoroki caught up with you, and since everyone had raced on ahead, eager to soak up as much sun as they could on the one off day they were all able to get off together, you leaned back against the rough rock and tilted your head up to the sky.

Sighing wistfully, your eyes fluttered shut as the sun’s blazing afternoon rays warmed your body.

You knew what showing them this place meant, and you knew that your friends were fully aware of it. It had been something so special to you for so long that you sharing it with them meant that you trusted them a great deal.

They were honored.

As rising pro-heroes in the world, they were constantly swamped with malicious villains, endless paperwork, press conferences and training the next generation. There was no time for rest.

But your former classmates were insistent that time be taken out for that purpose amidst all the craziness, especially Bakugou.

Down time was important. It was necessary. Or else you all would burnout and then none of you would be any good to save anybody.

This is why you chose this place.

It was secluded enough where there was no paparazzi, no cameras, no exposure and no one was the wiser. Here, you guys could be as loud and as free as you wanted because there was no one around to threaten that fragile bubble of happiness.

Heaving the bulging bag full of food and other amenities that you had swiped from Yaoyorozu as soon as you guys arrived higher on your shoulder, you wiped the bead of sweat from your forehead as it started to drip down your face.

“Shouto, c’mon!!” You encouraged aimlessly, since you didn’t know where he was. “Don’t you want to join the others?”

A faint rustle came from the bush a yard away from you and then it stilled. “No.”

You fought back a smile at the curt reply. You could almost envision that pout on his lips. Cheeky boy.

“Shouto~” You sang, fishing out a piece of his favorite food and waving it in the air, knowing that he could smell it. “I have a present for you…”

A beat of silence passed, and then two fluffy ears, one white and one red, poked out from the brush.

You suppressed a smile, knowing that would only make him leave in a huff and then his stubbornness wouldn’t let him come out and joy you for another hour. You couldn’t do that, he would miss all the fun!!

Waving it a bit more so that the enticing scent of the delectable food encouraged him out of his hiding place, you opted to hold your ground. “C’mon, Shouto. I promise, no tricks.”

His facial expression didn’t change but his ears perked up a bit and you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you. He was adorable.

Todoroki’s face fell the second he heard you laugh. “You’re laughing at me.”

You stopped immediately and straightened up, shaking your head. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He pushed back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stepped out of the bush with stray leaves clinging to his fur and branches sticking out of his head. Plopping down on the dirt, he puffed out his cheeks.

Your eyes softened and you set down the heavy bag, keeping your form relaxed as you tuned out the splashing and shrieks of laughter coming from the ocean.

“I’m sorry I laughed.” You apologized sincerely, never once breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. “I just thought you were very cute.”

Todoroki snorted, a sound so unlike his normally stoic and guarded demeanor, burrowing his face into his arms resting atop of the knees tucked into his chest. “That’s not funny…”

Your smile saddened a fraction as a memory washed over you as though it just happened yesterday.

Trouble had a habit of finding your beloved boyfriend and last week was no different.

The villain he was fighting against had a particularly interesting quirk, since he could manifest certain traits of people into their animal counterpart based solely on their personalities.

Todoroki wasn’t put off until someone pointed out that he must have rage like a tiger, making him internalize everything and now a good seven days later, he still had yet to come to terms with his appearance and strange habits involving a diet of primarily meat.

Fuyumi had sobbed how grateful she was that you were willing to take care of her brother in your apartment until the effects of the quirk dissipated. He was arguing with his father a lot more than usual and the tension in the Todoroki home had skyrocketed.

You brushed it off, merely telling her it was the least that you could do.

Your boyfriend had a tough time adjusting to his new normal. Things were hard for him to grab and he couldn’t cuddle you like he was used to. He liked walking on all fours since he found he could go a lot faster when he used all his appendages instead of only half.

His quirk, however, had been giving him a particularly rough time and the finesse he had honed of over the years disappeared overnight.

To say that Todoroki was upset about it was an understatement.

He would do nothing else but sit in his room for days when you brought him home with you, refusing to let you in unless you came with a peace offering.

That always smoothed things enough for you to talk to him and you were hoping it wouldn’t fail you now.

Todoroki eyed the fish skeptically, tilting his head curiously when you offered it up to him once more. With the pace of a snail, he uncurled from his protective ball and padded forward slowly, raising his nose in the air to sniff.

“Hungry?” You asked sympathetically.

Todoroki hesitated a second before nodding slowly.

Your shoulders dropped and you knelt down, holding it out to him. “Here.”

His eyes lit up and his tail flicked back and forth, gaze darting to you instinctively as though to ask if it really was okay.

You bit back a smile but the corners of your eyes still crinkled and you inclined your head to give him the go ahead.

Before you could blink, the fish was swiped from your hand and as soon as your eyes focused, you burst out laughing.

There, Todoroki crouched on the ground, chomping on the tasty treat.

Wiping off the palm of your hands on your hiking shorts, you beamed down at him, offering out your hand for him to take. “Feel better now?”

“Maybe…” He mumbled quietly as he polished it off before reluctantly accepting the invitation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or love to shower you with affection, it was just that he was used to doing all of that when he was fully a human, not a hybrid.

It was weird.

He found himself clinging desperately to your old t-shirts when you left the home to go on patrol, waiting around for you to come back. He heard when your heartbeat would speed up whenever he was around and how your breath hitched when he leaned in to kiss you goodnight.

Ever since the start of your relationship, he had been the one to take care of you. And he liked it that way.

This dynamic was foreign to him. And he wasn’t sure if it was because he truly disliked you taking care of him, or if it was because of something else.

Todoroki was broken out of his deep thoughts the instant you came to stand right next to Iida.

Before he knew what he was doing, the edges of his mouth pulled back in a menacing snarl and he pounced.

The unsuspecting Iida landed hard on the white sands with an ‘oomph’.

“Todoroki-kun!! Please control yourself!!” Iida shouted, doing his best not to hurt him as the tiger hybrid clawed at him.

You gasped. “Shouto!! Oh my gosh, Iida, I’m so sorry!!”

Pulling him off of the other, you went rigid as your boyfriend whined in your ear. The sound was too low for anyone else to pick up on, but you heard it.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered as Iida brushed off his swim shorts, thrusting his hand straight up into the air to stop Kaminari from drowning himself in an attempt to prove to Sero and Mina that he could hold his breath longer than they could.

Todoroki wrapped his arms around your waist, mouth pressed in a thin line as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You allowed yourself to relax against him as he pawed feebly at your sides, getting as close to him as possible.

With the increase in physical contact, the tension melted away from Todoroki’s broad form and you heaved a sigh of relief.

“Awwwww~” You cooed teasingly, reaching behind you to pinch his cheek gently and tugging until his smile morphed into a scowl. “Who’s the big scary tiger?”

Todoroki swatted you away, scrambling back until he was free from your affectionate hold on him. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t control his protective instincts and it certainly wasn’t his fault for reacting the way that he did when he smelled Iida’s scent all over you. You were his.

Of course he was going to protect you.

Baring his teeth at the tease, he hissed, tiny fangs on display.

You shouldn’t have found that as cute as you did.

Two more bodies shouldered their way past you and you grinned.

“Took you two long enough.” You smirked, wrangling your boyfriend back when he struggled in the firm grip you had around his arms to prevent him from knocking another person over.

The power couple had a habit of falling behind their ranks while getting lost in their own world. It was disgustingly cute.

Bakugou rolled his eyes angrily and gnashed his teeth. “Now you’re counting, dumbass? You’re worse than the shitty nerd.”

Midoriya ignored that comment as he sidled past you warily, forest green eyes sympathetic once they fell on your significant other. “Todoroki-kun still hasn’t changed back yet?”

He had seen the news coverage on it when the incident happened. Luckily, he wasn’t physically harmed, just physically altered, but it didn’t look like it was going away anytime soon.

Planting your hands on your hips, you yelped as Todoroki ripped himself from your grasp to tear off after Shinsou and tackled him next when he got too close to you. “No, not yet.”

Spraying white sand everywhere with his hind legs, it was almost endearing how his head raised and heterochromic eyes blinked back at you as soon as your voice sounded, silently begging for permission.

You followed his gaze to the ocean spray behind you and shook your head fondly, suppressing a smile as you jerked your head in Yaoyorozu’s direction. She would watch over him and make sure none of the other boys bullied him.

“Go on.” You encouraged softly, and that was all he needed.

While Bakugou set up the tent for him and his boyfriend so that Midoriya wouldn't get sunburnt, not that he would ever admit to doing it for that reason, your best friend eagerly asked for updates on all the latest changes.

Whipping out his hero notebook, his eyes shone with enthusiasm. “What has he been eating?! Does he prefer tuna or white cod? Oh, oh, oh, is there a difference in his quirk?! How does it impact his—”

Midoriya’s endless and excited rambling was cut off by his fuming boyfriend as he smacked him over the head and he cried out in pain, clutching his head. “Wahhhhh, Kacchan!!!”

“Shut the hell up, Deku.” Bakugou snarled, stomping past him to throw a bottle of sunscreen at you. “Put this on, shitty woman.”

You grinned, already squeezing the tube to squirt some onto your hand and slathered it on your arms. “Aw, you do care.”

“Go die.” He hissed, turning on his heel so abruptly that he almost slipped.

You refrained from giggling as he furiously, yet meticulously, took out various food items from the picnic basket that he had brought with. No matter how much he claimed he didn’t care about any of you, actions sure spoke louder than words.

Class A had graduated from UA all together and each and every one of you had secured a spot as a sidekick for many top pro-heroes all around the country. Before a year had even passed, all 22 of you had made a name for yourself, so much so that you were all almost as famous as the pros.

Midoriya was the first one to start his own agency, no surprise there. But what was a surprise was Bakugou following right after to build one right next to his.

The general public suspected it was because that area where their agencies were was riddled with violent crime, but you knew better. You all did, really.

How could anyone miss the lingering gazes filled with adoration and passion?

“Y/N, come on!!” Shinsou hollered, ducking under Shoji’s arm to sprint back towards you. “You’re missing all the fun!!”

“Be right there!!” You shouted back, rearranging the tablecloth on the ground so that it would lay flat.

You still needed to grab the bag you left at the foot of the cliffs because it was getting too heavy for you to carry. But you chanced a glance up and the glimpse of your friends had a wide smile breaking out on your face.

Todoroki was splashing in the shallows, completely soaking his fur. Jirou and Hagakure shrieked as Mina chased the two of them around, sparking an impromptu game of tag. Koda was in the middle of showing Tokoyami his seagull friend when Uraraka bumped into him.

Tsuyu and Kirishima were beachcombing for shells a little bit away when Kaminari skidded to a halt in front of them with Yaoyorozu in tow.

Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Iida and Mineta were playing beach volleyball with the inflatable ball that the former class president had brought along with them.

Dragging the beach bag behind you over to your spot that you set up far away from the shore so that when the tide came in, it wouldn’t wash everything away, you took out an array of towels, more sunblock, floaties, snacks, water bottles, coverups and a pair of sunglasses for Aoyama in case he forgot his again.

Standing up tall, you cupped your hands over your mouth and yelled, “Lunchtime!!!”

Several whoops and hollers pierced the salty air and you snorted when Midoriya almost tripped over his boyfriend’s outstretched feet in his haste to get there first.

Amidst the clamor and friends swarming around you, you twisted around, looking for your tiger hybrid boyfriend. “Shouto—”

“I’m here.”

You jumped as the low rumble sounded right by your ear, shivering unconsciously as his warm chest pressed up against your back.

“Hey…” You murmured as he mashed the top of his head in between your shoulder blades before planting a soft kiss there. “Did you have fun?”

He nodded, resting his chin on your shoulder to look over it as everyone rearranged themselves in a large circle.

You and Bakugou took care of the food prep while all your friends engorged themselves on the pre-made sandwiches and finger food.

“Oi, half-n-half bastard.” Bakugou growled, breaking the bubble of peace you two had with his temper that came out the longer your hands stayed motionless. “Stop bothering her, she’s not doing shit.”

Normally Bakugou’s crude language didn’t bother or upset Todoroki in any way, so you were shocked with a snarl echoed, washing over the group and effectively silencing them.

You squeaked as his arms tightened around you almost protectively and landed with an ‘oof’ as he pulled you to the ground.

“Shouto?!” You cried out incredulously as he unabashedly nuzzled his face into the hollow of your throat, setting his thick thighs on either side of you.

You rolled your eyes when Bakugou went rigid with anger. You could feel the heat emitting from your beloved’s glare as he locked stares with the pomeranian who was furious that the dumb extra thought he was flirting with you.

“That’s enough.” You scolded, though it was unclear who you were really talking to.

Neither wavered.

“Icyhot, you dumb fuck.” Bakugou spat, never once breaking eye contact, even as the chatter picked up again.

Todoroki snarled but the expression of rage contorted into meek sheepishness as you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, being mindful of his ears.

Humming softly, you coaxed him back down to earth long enough for common sense to return to him.

Todoroki bundled you up in his arms, tail swishing back and forth lazily as he held you. “Sorry.”

You shook your head at his apology, knowing he couldn’t fully control his impulses sometimes. “Not your fault.”

Bakugou snorted, smacking Kirishima in the face with a fish fillet when he asked to see what he was cooking. “Yes it fucking is.”

He just barely managed to dodge the shoe you launched at his head, straightening up with an enraged scowl etched on his features.

“OI!!!!”

You giggled, wiggling back to get comfortable against Todoroki’s chest. “You deserved it.”

“TAKE THAT SHIT BACK!!!!!” He thundered, smoke coming out of his ears.

“Kacchan!!” Midoriya cried out, wrestling back his boyfriend before his temper tantrum could reach the two of you.

He begged Jirou or Kaminari to help him but the two of them simply flipped the bird to Bakugou, and he exploded.

Literally.

What happened next was a flurry of the class rep containing the situation and a spark of green lightning before it was over as quickly as it started.

“I’m going to fucking kill all of you.” Bakugou seethed angrily, eye twitching from where his loving boyfriend had used One for All to pin him to the ground, tying him to the trunk of a nearby coconut tree until he calmed down.

“Ah…” Midoriya winced sheepishly as his glare turned on him. “K-Kacchan—”

Jirou’s loud slurping of the smoothie that Sato just made interrupted him and she regarded the fuming grown man disinterestedly. “Who’s up for a game?”

“Oh, oh, oh, meeeee!!!” Hagakure shouted, raising her hand high in the air alongside Uraraka and an intrigued Tsuyu.

“MEEEEEE!!!!” Mina screamed, nearly blowing out Kaminari’s eardrums as he collapsed on top of his girlfriend.

Jirou pushed him off without hesitation, fighting back a smirk when he let out an overexaggerated whimper of pain, knowing full well that he wasn’t actually hurt.

Shoji stopped what he was doing to pay attention and even the usually shy Koda looked interested in her proposal on how to deal with the tied up pomeranian thrashing in place.

Jirou raised an eyebrow slyly and everybody held their breath in anticipation.

One.

Two.

Three.

“PIN THE TAIL ON THE BAKUGOU!!!!!” Jirou screamed, holding up a sticky dart that they all regularly used for training.

How she managed to sneak equipment out of the agency she worked at was beyond you.

Jirou whooped, scrambling forward and held it up high. “I’m going first!!”

“Me next, Kyoka-chan!!!” Uraraka pleaded.

“Class A, this is highly inappropriate!!!!” Iida shouted, trying to curb the situation before it got out of hand.

Too late.

As the girls, save for Yaoyorozu, clustered gathered around a livid Bakugou, Tokoyami uncrossed his arms and pushed off of his post from where he had been keeping watch over the perimeter of the beach.

“I will join.”

You and Todoroki were both surprised, not expecting the normally reclusive individual to join in on the shenanigans.

Your dropped jaw caught Tokoyami’s attention and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“I find great satisfaction in tormenting the souls of the wicked.” He declared impassively and a light bulb went off in your head.

“Ahhhhh,” You drew out with a grimace. “I get it.”

Back when you guys had lived in the dorms, Bakugou had made the fatal mistake of scaring Tokoyami during Halloween, making the latter let out an inhuman scream that traveled all the way across campus. Even though he had sworn to the moon and back that it was accidental, that there was no way he was actively participating in the game that Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face had going on, Tokoyami never forgot it.

And now it was time for his revenge.

Tokoyami caught the tomato that Sero threw his way and tossed it up in the air with the most menacing glare on his face as everyone advanced to the struggling pro-hero.

“Bakugou, you ready?!” Kirishima shouted excitedly, removing the gag from his best friend’s mouth.

“PISS OFF, SHITTY HAIR!!!!” Bakugou exploded once he was free, yanking at his restraints even though he had no chance of getting out of them.

His boyfriend tied them.

Hagakure tapped Jirou’s shoulder warily. “You think we should’ve left it on?”

The other girl shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered by the rage rolling off of him in waves. “Eh, he would’ve found a way out of it eventually.”

Shinsou twirled a piece of Tsuyu’s hair that he was braiding, boredly looking on at all the chaos as they all pushed and pulled each other. He had asked Aizawa to teach him how back when he lived in the dormitory so that he could do it for Eri whenever she came over to visit.

“Shinsou-chan, are you going to take a turn?” She asked curiously, staying still so that he could braid her long hair properly.

He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t really see the point in it.”

“Kero,” She ribbeted thoughtfully. They were the only two not contributing to the shouting other than you and Todoroki. “I see.”

“Ehhhh?!?!” Kaminari exclaimed, losing his footing as he accidentally tripped over Kirishima’s foot and crashed into Shinsou.

Shooting him a sharp glare as all his hard work undid itself, Shinsou pushed himself off the ground, not sparing him a glance as he marched back over to the frog girl to fix it.

You giggled to yourself at Kaminari’s expression of mock hurt but pursued your lips quickly when his head snapped towards the sound. Pure smile dripping with innocence, your shoulders shook with laughter when he turned all the way around suspiciously, piercing gaze landing on his girlfriend as she doubled over with laughter at something Yaoyorozu said.

Bakugou thrashed helplessly against the coconut tree. “I’M GONNA FUCKIN’ KILL YOU, EARPHONES!!!!!”

But Jirou’s boisterous chortling was all that answered his threat.

You sank back against Todoroki, sighing blissfully despite the war raging on as they started the game, Bakugou protesting violently all the way.

Angling your head up, your eyes squinted against the sun but you still smiled as soft fur brushed your cheek.

“Are you happy, Shouto?” You asked softly, quiet enough to not catch the attention of the others as they yelled for Midoriya to keep his boyfriend still.

He paused, choosing to play with the fringe of your shirt instead of responding right away. “Right now?”

Your smile dimmed a fraction, not expecting that answer. “... I suppose I meant just in general, but you could answer with whatever comes to mind…”

You trailed off, leaving the question itself open ended so that he could opt not to answer it if he didn’t feel comfortable.

Todoroki hesitated. “Where… Where is this coming from?”

Outright frowning now, you pushed off his knee so that you could sit across from him to see him better.

“I was just wondering...” You said slowly, trying to keep the defensiveness out of your voice.

Was he not happy? Why did he hesitate? Would he be happier with someone else? Did he not want to be with you anymore?

You shook your head at the insecure thoughts invading your head. That wasn’t right. He would’ve told you if he didn’t want to put work into this relationship anymore. You two had made that pact when you started dating, to break it off if one person no longer wanted it instead of stringing the other along and ended up hurting you both in the long run.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down from spiraling too far, you steadied your heart before opening your mouth again.

“I asked because I wanted to know.” You told him honestly, speaking from the heart. “Your happiness matters a lot to me, I always want you to be happy. That’s why I wanted to ask.”

Placing a hand on his knee, you smiled apologetically at him and the shenanigans from your friends faded into white noise as you tuned out everything else besides him.

Your Shouto. The person you loved the most in this entire world. The one who had been with you through thick and thin and the one who swore he would never abandon you.

He knew what those words meant to you. He had your heart.

And you had his.

Todoroki’s heterochromic eyes softened a fraction and his ears and tail drooped as he realized that he had acted so defensively out of reflex.

“I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You reassured him swiftly, clearly. You knew what he was going to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Todoroki’s rapid heartbeat steadied at the loving conviction in your voice and a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in whooshed out of his lungs.

Reaching out, he laced his slim fingers with yours and tugged you closer to rest his forehead against yours.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I am happy.” He murmured quietly so that only you could hear him, emphasizing the soft declaration with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I feel… the most when I am with you.”

Despite his words growing softer and softer, you still heard them and your heart leaped in your throat.

Swallowing thickly, you gave him a wobbly smile at his admission and fought to keep the tears at bay as you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips, commending him for his bravery and vulnerability when it came to expressing his innermost thoughts. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to do.

“I’m glad.” You sighed, trying not to get too caught up in the moment so that your emotions didn’t run away from you. “And I’m honored you feel that way around me. I will continue to do my best to make you happy.”

This time, Todoroki was the one to frown, his nose twitching in displeasure.

“You do not need to do anything.” He stated matter-of-factly, tilting his head in confusion. “It is your company, I believe, that makes me feel this way.”

That was an understatement. You elevated his heart and spirit in all the best possible ways. With your encouragement and kind nature, he felt like he had the strength to do anything. Including tough out this quirk incident that was causing a huge inconvenience in everybody’s lives.

Todoroki ducked his head and hid a smile, recalling to mind the time you blurted out in passionate fervor that it was not an inconvenience to anyone, let alone you, when he confessed thinking such to you.

You really were too kind to him. He was going to make sure you were protected forever and always.

Nudging your temple softly with his nose, Todoroki purred contentedly as your sweet scent washed over him like the summer breeze.

“Starfruit and coconut?” He questioned curiously.

Ever since his temporary transformation, he had been picking up more and more of what you smelled like, and he loved it. But this certain combination was brand new to him.

The tips of your ears burned red and you gnawed on your bottom lip shyly. “Y-Yeah… it’s a new lotion. I liked the scent.”

Todoroki hummed thoughtfully, another throaty purr emitting from his chest as waves lazily crashed upon the shore. His arms tightened around you in silent request and his ears perked up as you repositioned yourself so that your back was flush against his bare chest.

“It smells good.” He finally admitted, glancing down at you.

You shifted in his hold, stretching out your legs and crossing your ankles. “Yeah?”

Todoroki buried his nose into your soft hair and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he thought about how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life. How much tragedy and hurt he had to go through, what he had to sacrifice almost to the point of giving up, when he met you.

You were his light, his partner, his everything.

Vibrant turquoise and cloudy grey hues softened imperceptibly as they gazed down at you, his tail coming around to wind around your thigh, clutching it almost possessively.

“Yeah…” He whispered, allowing his eyes to finally slip shut as the sun got to him, exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave.

And you, you sat there in his embrace, ready for whatever this life threw at you next. Because in spite of the hardships, you knew that you could face it together.

Playing with his fingers, you relaxed against him and wriggled more comfortably into his side.

“Hey, Shouto,” You murmured under your breath, fully aware that he couldn’t hear you based on the even rise and fall of his chest. “When we get home…”

Hooded eyes darted to the bag you brought with you, honing in on the small cube outline bulging from the pouch on the side. The size of a ring box.

“I have something to ask you.”

Bonus:

Everyone had worn themselves out. Night had fallen, the ambiance only broken by the occasional remark of the ocean spray as they made themselves known.

Stars twinkled high in the sky and the group of 22 felt the most at ease that they had been since they assumed positions in society as top pro-heroes.

Well, all except one.

Bakugou glowered at his boyfriend sitting a couple paces away from him. “Deku, I swear to fucking—”

“Kacchan, shh!!! I’ll never get this opportunity again!!!” Midoriya whisper-shouted at him, furiously scribbling in his hero notebook.

He glanced up once in a while at your sleeping form draped against Todoroki’s white and red fur.

He had turned into an actual tiger halfway through the night when everyone else had fallen asleep and Midoriya had no idea if it was because he felt at ease enough that he let go, or if this was another step in the quirk manifesting itself. Either way, it was incredibly interesting and he was jotting down everything he noticed.

Rolling his eyes when his fanboy of a boyfriend didn’t put down his pen, Bakugou tapped his foot impatiently. “Of course the fucking Number One Hero still is hung up over these shitty extras.”

Midoriya squealed excitedly despite the other’s discontented grumbling, clutching his notebook close to his heart. “Kacchan, it’s so cool though!!!”

Bakugou huffed, turning away but that was so he couldn’t see the pinking of his cheeks.

Alright, look, it wasn’t his damn fault the shitty nerd was so fucking cute when he got like this!!

Tugging at his restraints purposefully, Bakugou burned a hole in the back of Midoriya’s head when he refused to look his way.

“Oi, let me out of this shit.” He demanded hotly, trying to blast his way through, only to find out that the ropes were made of some kind of quirk-cancelling material.

Fuck.

“In a minute.” Midoriya babbled, waving him off as he scrambled closer to his slumbering friend to get a better look. “Todoroki-kun is so cool!!”

Bakugou’s eyebrows scrunched together at that and he frowned. “What the fuck, you shitty nerd?!”

Midoriya yelped as a red aura emitted from him. “Eep!!! K-Kacchan?!?!”

“IS THAT A CHALLENGE, DEKU?!?!?!?!”

“N-No, of course it’s not!!!” Midoriya replied desperately, waving his hands to ward him off and hopefully stop him from waking everybody else up.

That hope was diminished as quickly as it came as Bakugou roared. “WAKE THE FUCK UP, ICYHOT!!!!!”

“I really rather not.” Came the dry reply, catching the both of them off guard.

Bakugou recovered quickly and his expression contorted into fury. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

Midoriya approached him cautiously, hoping to placate him. “K-Kacchan, maybe we should—”

“HAH?!?!” His head whipped around towards him, wrists already chafed from how hard he was yanking against it. “YOU STILL THINK FUCKIN’ HALF-N-HALF IS BETTER THAN ME?!?!”

“I didn’t say that!!!” Midoriya cried out.

Bakugou leaned back against the trunk, vermilion eyes glinting dangerously. Every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to strike. “Get the fuck over here, damn nerd.”

Midoriya’s feet moved before he knew what he was doing until he came to a standstill directly in front of his boyfriend looking at him with an entirely different expression on his face.

One of mild interest and pure determination.

Bakugou smirked. “I’m gonna make you eat your damn words, Deku.”

His eyes lit up at the implication and he ground his fist into the palm of his hand before untying the bonds.

“Bring it on, Kacchan.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TWO DO?!?!” You shrieked, horrified at the sight that greeted you in the morning.

The two of them were covered head to toe in bruises and scrapes, and absolutely soaked.

Iida was the most upset. “NO QUIRKS WERE ALLOWED ON THIS VACATION!!!!”

Bakugou stuffed his hands in his pockets and scoffed. “Vacation’s over, Emergency Exit.”

“THAT IS NO LONGER AN APPROPRIATE NICKNAME!!!!” Iida corrected and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I can’t believe this.” You mumbled to yourself exasperatedly. “You guys actually sparred all night?!?!”

“L/N-san, it was awesome!!!” Midoriya rambled enthusiastically, the glow in his eyes never faltering even as Iida continued to chew out a bored Bakugou. “Kacchan was so cool!!!”

You sputtered. “This was supposed to be a vacation!!!”

“It was!!” Midoriya insisted with a determined pout and you shook your head.

“You don’t understand the concept of a vacation, hospital boy.”

“Hey!!”

Tokoyami nodded, satisfied as Iida punished Bakugou with a week’s worth of chores despite the fact that none of them lived together anymore. “Vengeance is served.”

“Anyone got any food?” Hagakure chirped while Mina whined in the corner about how hungry she was.

Kaminari was already rifling through the beach bag you brought with you, fishing out every single piece of food you had left.

You looked on fondly at them as they handled the food emergency themselves. You were lucky to have friends like these. Ones that could goof off whenever and be as silly as you were, as well as be there when it counted.

Todoroki tapped you on the shoulder with the tip of his tail, offering up a bagel he had managed to snag before everyone else emptied out the reserves. “Hungry?”

You shot him a thankful look, breaking it in half to share with him before munching on your piece happily. “Very.”

The two of you basked in the momentary peace the sunrise brought as Bakugou argued against Iida that he wasn’t even the one to start the brawl, even though it fell on deaf ears.

You bit back a smile as Todoroki’s tail looped around your waist, pulling you into his side and you laughed lightly. “Is this your way of telling me you want to cuddle some more before we have to go back?”

“Maybe.” He mused, gaze filled with adoration and humor as he fixated his eyes on you.

Todoroki blinked slowly, dipping his head down to draw your head close to his. “Y/N?”

You tilted your face up at his inquiry. “Yes?”

The depth of love in your eyes was reflected in his heart.

“Later today, if you get a chance, stop by my agency.” He requested somewhat timidly and you raised an eyebrow in surprise at the odd desire.

“Yeah… okay, sure.” You affirmed with what you hoped to be a reassuring smile to put him at ease, even though you had no idea what this was all about.

Todoroki chuckled softly at your lost expression. You looked cute when you were trying to figure out what he was thinking. No chance though, you could think about this one all you wanted, you were never going to figure out where he was going with this.

“There is something I would like to ask you.” He hinted with a mysterious smile, unlocking his grip around your waist to stroll over to Koda and help him pack up the picnic basket.

It took a second for you to process. And then another passed before you realized what he meant.

“W-Wait a minute— Shouto!!!!”

Ringing laughter was all that accompanied your cries and torrent of questions as you asked over and over again if he was insinuating what you thought he was.

In a moment of bravery, he threw you a wink. “You have to wait to find out, Y/N.”

“No fair!!!”

“Patience.”

“UH UH, YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE A GIRL HANGING LIKE THAT!!!!”

“I don’t see how it’s any different than what you pulled last night.”

“... I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Todoroki shrugged nonchalantly, aiding Iida and Yaoyorozu in packing up the rest of the supplies. “Okay.”

“TODOROKI SHOUTO, GET BACK HERE!!!!”

“Wait six hours, Y/N.”

“SIX HOURS?!?!?!”

Your wailing only made that grin on his face grow. “I could double it.”

You shut your mouth at that ominous threat. Like hell he was going to do that to you.

Todoroki smiled triumphantly but it only lasted for a second when you glared at him.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man, Todoroki.” You proclaimed dramatically, stumbling back when Kaminari took that opportunity to plop a heavy basket in your arms to make you carry it.

Todoroki’s shoulders shook with laughter at your attempt to catch yourself. You were as clumsy as a newborn deer. “I learn from the best.”

Your eyes glittered with mischief and throwing down the basket, you sprinted over to somewhere behind the rocks, disappearing from sight.

But your voice still carried.

“BAKUGOU, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!!!”

303 notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Text

Bad Day - Nolan Patrick

Words: 2.2k+

Type: Fluff and slight Angst

Summary: You and Nolan are very different. Your bubbly personality is something that does contrast with his own. Yet he finds himself lost when that so happy person loses her spark after a hard and sad day.

Warnings: A lot of crying over college stuff (negative grades, overworking, etc.). Affectionate reader. Slight mentions of blood (from falling).

You and Nolan have been dating for almost 2 years, now. Some people do agree that your relationship was quite odd when it began, but those who are the closest noticed how much you two belonged together.

The surprise behind your relationship is mostly around the topic of how your personalities are nothing alike. You are this loud, bubbly, excited and happy human being, and you’re dating this silent, introverted, deep-voiced man. He, obviously, isn’t so silent when he’s with his friends or you only, but people still describe him as so.

Sure, you understand the shock but you two truly love each other. And that should be the only thing that matters, right?

You and Nolan aren’t exactly very active on social media. Yet you post more pictures of yourself than he does. And just by your feed, people seem to notice how different you two are.

Some people find it cute, while others not all that much. So you two try to limit as much posts with the two of you together as possible. And even though that comes with a lot of rumoring of you breaking up, you’re just, honestly, trying to minimalize the hateful words you usually receive.

But, yes, you two are very different.

You can notice that in how the two of you interact with each other. Nolan, being this more closed off person, doesn’t seek that much physical and affectional touch. Not as much as you, surely.

You hug him, cuddle him, snuggle onto him, kiss him, play with his hair, and so on. And you do that while battling his whines right in your ear of how he didn’t want to cuddle at that moment.

Bad thing for him, you look right through his shit. This man loves when you hug him, kiss him, play with his hair, etc.. He just doesn’t like to admit it.

Your affection doesn’t really leaves your apartment, since you two aren’t both two big fans of PDA. But, hand holding or hugging his arm close to you when it’s cold, is almost always happening when out of the house. Again, he doesn’t mind it at all.

And that’s literally how your relationship works - one whines and the other gives hugs.

Yesterday was a Sunday, and it went particularly well. It was Nolan’s day off, so he spent most of his day playing video games with his friends. You worked on an assignment while sitting next to him, and once when you were done, you sat in Nolan’s lap, ignored his protests - which lasted 10 seconds - and just fell asleep against his chest, completely exhausted with everything you’ve been doing for college.

You honestly thought this week wouldn’t be all that bad since it doesn’t all that much going on. Weekend was good, and that usually was enough to set the mood for the rest of the days.

But, you thought wrong. Very wrong.

You went to college around the same time Nolan went to practice, you had breakfast together and everything was good. But that was until your teachers started to announce that they already had the grades of some tests and assignments.

In two of your 3 classes, today, a teacher gave you a grade. Both of them negative grades.

The worst part? You thought these were the two evaluations that had gone well and seemed pretty easy when you did them.

If this is your results to the ‘easy’ ones, what about the ones that you, actually, struggled with?

After college, you walked back to your apartment, eyes already covered with tears over your failed evaluations, and right as you’re about to get home, you trip over your own feet.

Right when you looked down at Nolan’s text.

Even though nobody was in the street to see it, you felt more than humiliated. Your knee was now painted in dark red over the fresh wound, from your fall, and you were in pain.

This is just a whole recipe for disaster.

When you got home, Nolan was still not back. And that just helped you with wanting to break down more as you walked through lobby of your home.

It’s usual warmth welcomed you home but it did not provide any sort of comfort.

You went into your phone to try and distract your mind by scrolling through social media or looking at pictures with your friends and Nolan. But from not the lack of social media in these last few days, you let your eyes focus on old notifications popping up, comments, which are a few days old.

All of them negative.

From how you were using Nolan for his money or fame, to how unlucky he is to be dating someone like you. Insults were just scattered all throughout your feed.

As if your day could get any worse.

After half an hour of crying, you were able to force yourself into taking care of your nasty wound. Yes, there were some more tears and sobs here and there. But you feel more calm than before.

You ended up not texting Nolan since you were too preoccupied after your fall to remember anything. And he found it strange.

He had just texted you saying that practice was over when he got off the ice, and since then, he hasn’t received anything.

He kept on checking his phone. He checked it when he took his gear off, after he showered, when he got dressed, etc.. He kept on doing it, and still nothing.

And now, you are laying on your bed, in way more comfortable clothes, and under your comfortable and fluffy duvet and a blanket over your head. Your lap top is right next to your head and only your face isn’t shielded from any colder temperatures.

Tears would make their way back to you in between every few seconds while you force your mind to focus on a random video of reality show highlights. It’s like you can’t really control your body anymore.

Constantly reminding you of your failures as you keep on trying to focus on something else. But nothing. Nothing is working.

Over the loud background music and the dramatic screaming from your lap top, you don’t hear the front door of your apartment opening.

Nolan stands by the door, closing it behind him. He walks slowly to your living room, finding an empty couch. He checks the kitchen, still nothing. So he walks to your bedroom.

It’s awfully strange to not have you right around the corner to welcome him home. He had never noticed it before, but it had become apart of his routine already.

He opens the bedroom door slowly and his eyes finally find you. The slight creak of the door makes you look away from the screen and look up to find your boyfriend staring down at you.

To Nolan’s confusion, you didn’t do your usual ritual of when you spot him. You didn’t get up from your bed and gave him a kiss or a hug, you just continued to lay there.

Your eyes go back to the screen, fighting off your tears once more, and you hear Nolan start taking his shoes off.

He doesn’t say anything, filling the room in its natural silence, and walks to your side of the bed.

“Scoot over.” He whispers over the sound coming from your laptop.

You move your computer first, moving it to Nolan’s side of the bed, as you crawl to the middle. He slides under the duvet and blanket and you turn around, deciding to face him.

Nolan lays on his side, elbow on your pillow as he holds himself up and rests his face on his fist. His eyes are on you, studying your face, the way your eyes are slightly swollen and watery and how your lips seem to always curve in a small pout.

“What happened?” He whispers, not wanting to break the silence.

“Had a bad day.” You whisper back, blinking your tears away.

“Was it college?” He asks, you nod, “A test?”

You nod again and soon his face changes into a pitiful scowl. He feels bad for you, especially after yesterday, when you were so excited to finally have time for yourself. All of it ruined just because your grades are coming back to you as negatives.

“The other assignment I did, like, 2 weeks ago?” You ask him to see if he remembers, and he nods, “Failed that one too.”

Your voice is broken, your chin is starting to shake. You’re a blink away from breaking down again and Nolan feels so helpless. He wishes he could help you with college, but his knowledge in whatever degree you’re dating is close to nothing.

“-And I fell outside, too.” You break his train of thought.

A dry chuckle escapes your lips as you bring your hands up to wipe away your tears, as if you’re forcing yourself to laugh at your problems.

“On the way home?”

You nod and wipe your tears again, soaking the ends of your sleeves.

“My day has just been so awful.” Your voice breaks, making Nolan’s chest squeeze in pain at the sound of it alone.

Without knowing what to say, Nolan wraps one of his arms around you and pulls you in closer. The feeling that comes with not having you hug him back right away is strange. It almost makes him feel heartbroken.

As your face rests over Nolan’s shirt, it’s like your body just gives it all out. You start crying again, sobbing as you let all your worries out, mumbling some stuff you’re not even sure what they mean. And Nolan just holds you close, resting his head against yours while laying kisses over your cheek, neck or over your hair.

It’s so hard to see you like this. It has happened before, it has, but it’s never this bad. Which doesn’t make it that easy to deal with.

Your sobs stop after some time, your breathing slows down back to normal and your body stops to shake. Nolan still holds you, comfortably smoothing your back with one of his hands over your sweatshirt.

You, finally, wrap one of your arms around his torso and just rest your body against his a little, while in complete silence.

“When’s your next test?” Nolan asks against the skin of your temple.

“In 4 weeks.” You answer.

“Any assignments between today and that test?” He asks and you shake your head, “Okay, so you have more than enough time to get prepared and do amazing on that test.”

A sudden warm, giddy feeling runs through you at his words, yet you only nod at what he says.

“I wish I could help you study, but I’m clueless with half of the words in your notes.” He jokes and your lips curve into a grin, “I can always be your reminder to go back to studying?”

“You’re going on a roadie next week.”

He shrugs.

“I can still call.”

You smile and lean your face back onto his chest.

“What about that fall? Are you okay?” He asks, lifting his head again to take a look at your face.

“I’m okay, now, yeah. It was just really embarrassing,” You answer back.

There’s a quick silence and you lift your chin to stare up at Nolan.

“Did something else happen?” He asks, just to make sure.

You do a quick shrug.

“No- I mean,” You correct yourself, “I did check my Instagram after getting home...”

“And... what happened?”

“Just- The usual stupid comments.” You whisper at him.

He analyzes your face for a few seconds and brings his hand up, wiping with his thumb the rest of the tears under your eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t have looked at them,” You scold yourself, “But I didn’t exactly do it on purpose. They were just... there, when I wanted to look back at some pictures.”

Nolan nods understandingly and rests his hand against your cheek, cupping it as his thumb caresses your skin continuously.

“What type of pictures?”

“Like, with our friends or just the two of us,” You shrug, again, “I was just looking for something to cheer me up, you know?”

He nods at you and a small grin lifts over your lips.

He doesn’t scold you in any way. Doesn’t judge you for being stuck in the middle of the hateful comments that don’t do nothing but bring others down. He sometimes finds himself in those black holes without even realizing, and when they do bring him down, you’re there for him to remind him who he really is. Not letting the comments get to him. He can’t do anything else but the same. Return the favor.

“Do you feel better now?” He says at a low voice, almost in a whisper.

“A bit, yeah.” You nod, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He answers.

In the comfortable silence and under his smoothing and loving touch, you prop yourself up with one arm, so your face is in front of Nolan’s, and you peck his lips. It’s a quick kiss, but one that makes you grin back at him.

“I love you.” You tell him.

“I love you too.”

You kiss again but this time, he holds the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him, making the kiss longer and letting it actually evolve into something more than a peck.

You kiss him back as his lips start to move against yours and your, only vacant, hand find its way to his side, almost as if pulling him in closer to you, even though you’re already glued together.

Nolan pulls back and looks back at you for a second.

“Want to go get lunch and then watch a movie?” He asks and your smile finds itself back on your face.

“I would love that.”

Is this good? I wrote it in between classes, while bored, so I hope it’s not too awful.

*First time writing for Nolan... I just had to do it, okay?*

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick imagines #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick x you #nolan patrick fanfic #nolan patrick fanfiction #nhl imagines #nolan patrick blurb #nolan patrick one shot

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trilliastra · 3 years

Text

a series of firsts

[5 first times + 1. Shinwoo x Taekyung. A light on me fic.]

“What is this?”

“Flowers.” Taekyung states, matter-of-factly. Shinwoo rolls his eyes, unimpressed, but he can feel his ears turning red as he watches Taekyung’s lips turn up into a smirk.

Taekyung likes teasing, Shinwoo has come to realise. He likes pointing out the redness of Shinwoo’s ears, remembering his inability to hold a proper conversation when they first met, leaning in for a quick kiss when Shinwoo least expects.

It’s infuriating and adorable and Shinwoo wishes he could tease him back, but all his thoughts leave his mind when Taekyung smiles, batting his eyelashes sweetly as if he did nothing wrong. It’s a problem.

“What for?” Shinwoo asks, looking at the potted plant in his hands. He doesn’t know what kind they are, never really paid attention to flowers before, but knowing his boyfriend, they probably hold some obscure (or cute) meaning.

“Our anniversary.” Taekyung explains.

Shinwoo almost drops the plant, surprise and panic growing inside him.

“One month.” Taekyung adds.

Oh, oh no.

He remembered it, of course. Shinwoo has been counting the days, the weeks since they first got together. He put a heart on his calendar, marking the day forever, and now, every morning when he wakes up, the first thing he sees is the calendar on his wall, the red heart smiling at him. It’s a good way to wake up.

“I -” he falters. Damn it, he can feel his ears getting hot, “your present, I-”

“You didn’t remember it, did you?” It’s not really a question and Taekyung reaches out to touch Shinwoo’s ears fondly.

“I did!” Shinwoo argues, “I always remember, I put it on my calendar just in case -” Shit, he notices Taekyung’s eyes widening at the confession and Shinwoo looks around, swallowing heavily. Is he a bad boyfriend for thinking about running away?

“Really?” Taekyung smiles, not that teasing smirk, but a gentle smile, sweet, fond. Shinwoo has noticed that he only smiles like that when they are together.

“I -”

“It’s okay.” Taekyung interrupts his apology with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I didn’t really expect you to buy me something.”

“But you did!”

“It’s my mom’s.” Taekyung confesses. “I didn’t think I had to buy anything but then Namgoong texted me and I panicked.”

Shinwoo blinks. “Oh.” He feels even dumber now, because he got the exact same text from Namgoong and the only thing that crossed his mind was ‘I’m gonna walk Taekyung home today’.

“Oh.” He repeats, gathers his strength to ask, “I guess we should talk about this, right?”

Taekyung frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been in a relationship before, is this - is this something we want to do? Monthly gifts?”

Taekyung’s expression goes pensive and he shrugs. “Isn’t that what people do?” His boyfriend gives back. Shinwoo gets distracted by the way he bites his lip, blushes when Taekyung notices and snaps his fingers in front of his eyes. “Shinwoo.”

He clears his throat, looks away. “I - yeah, some people, I guess. But, do we want to do it? Because,” he shrugs back, “it’s sweet, but -”

“It’s a lot of work.” Taekyung completes and Shinwoo sighs, relieved. “I couldn’t even think about that to give you now, I can’t imagine doing it every month.”

“And the money.” Shinwo adds, smiling when Taekyung nods, resolute.

“Once a year is enough, right?”

“And birthdays.” Shinwoo adds after a minute.

“That sounds fair.” Taekyung agrees, smiling, and Shinwoo kisses him to seal the deal.

“You should take this back to your mom.” Shinwoo says after a, admittedly, long time. Well, it’s not like Taekyung wasn’t kissing him back.

Taekyung hums in agreement, cheeks pink and mouth red from all the kissing.

They get lost in each other sometimes, Shinwoo hopes this feeling won’t ever go away.

“Soon?” Shinwoo asks.

“Soon.” Taekyung agrees, already pulling him back in for another kiss.

Taekyung isn’t at the student council room when Shinwoo arrives after his math class. He closes the door back again immediately, running towards the exit.

He thought they could talk after school, but Taekyung is still avoiding him. Shinwoo was dreading this moment as much as he was anticipating it, but he realized that being without Taekyung is so much worse than apologizing for a mistake.

It was their first fight.

He was stressed with his school work and he had a fight with his mother yesterday morning, his mood was sour and Taekyung ended up paying the price. Shit, he was so stupid.

“Can you leave me alone?” He had said, already regretting the words the moment he said them. He meant it, though, and Taekyung knew it as well, he always does.

Sometimes, when things are hard and he is feeling particularly bad with himself, when his self-deprecating thoughts invade his mind and he can’t push them away, he just wants to be left alone to deal with it by himself, to curse his choices, his abilities, his brain.

He snapped at Daon once, when his friend tried to cheer him up, and almost made Namgoong cry when his friend heard Shinwoo call himself a useless piece of shit. They worked it out, Daon patting his back when he apologized and Namgoong making him promise not to say anything like that ever again, but Taekyung - Taekyung doesn’t deserve someone like him.

He was waiting for the moment Taekyung would notice he’s not good enough to be with him, but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. His boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) at least deserves an explanation.

‘It’s not your fault’, he wants to say, ‘it’s me, I’m the idiot’.

“Shinwoo.” Namgoong follows him outside. “Taekyung is looking for you.” He pulls him by the arm, practically dragging Shinwoo back into the school building and leading him towards one of the empty classrooms.

“He is?”

“Duh.” Namgoong says, shaking his head. “He is worried.”

“He is?” Shinwoo asks again, dumbly.

Namgoong sighs, frustrated, and lets go of his arm. “Remember what I told you the last time?” Shinwoo frowns. “I said I was going to smother you with kisses and hugs until you believe you are worthy of love. But that was when you didn’t have a boyfriend.” He shoves Shinwoo inside a room. “He’s gonna do that now.” He says, punching his shoulder - hard - and closing the door in front of Shinwoo.

When he turns around, surprised and confused, he sees Taekyung waiting for him.

“I’m sorry.” They say at the same time and Shinwoo falters, heart skipping a beat. There it is - the end, three months and five days after the first time Taekyung took his hand, called him his boyfriend and accepted the goodbye kiss in front of his apartment.

Three months and five days and Shinwoo will be alone again. He knew it was going to happen, knew it was inevitable and yet the pain is stronger than anything he’s ever felt.

Taekyung stalks towards him, determined, as Shinwoo takes a step back, slamming his back against the door. He could run, he thinks, eyeing the exit, but suddenly Taekyung is right there, hands on both his cheeks, eyes shining with a fire so bright that it scares Shinwoo.

“Why do you look like this?” Taekyung asks, turning his back from one side to the other, leaning closer as he seems to be inspecting Shinwoo’s face. “Are you sick?” He stops. “Your ears aren’t red either, what’s wrong with you?”

Shinwoo blinks once, twice, three times before he gathers the courage to ask. “Why did you apologize?”

It’s Taekyung’s turn to blink confusedly. “Because! You were upset and wanted to be left alone and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry.”

“But -” Shinwoo feels the cracks in his heart mending, the fear that once consumed him being replaced by hope, “I yelled at you. And you’ve been avoiding me since yesterday, you - why are you not breaking up with me?”

“What?” Taekyung tilts his head to the side, lets his hands fall. “I was giving you space! Isn’t that what you wanted?” He blinks, brings his hands to his hair. “Ah, I’m so confused!” He then turns to Shinwoo, points a finger at his face. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” Shinwoo answers immediately. “I thought you did! I mean, you should! Because I yelled at you!”

Taekyung sighs again, turns around and starts pacing around the room. He whispers to himself, words that Shinwoo can’t hear or understand, before he schools his face into something less confused and more annoyed, turning to Shinwoo again. “I have no idea what’s happening,” he confesses, taking Shinwoo’s hand and pulling him to the nearest chair. He forces Shinwoo to sit down, hands on his shoulders and then sits on the chair opposite him, face determined. “Explain.”

The earnest look on his face, the eagerness to understand Shinwoo, to solve this misunderstanding, it’s enough to make Shinwoo nod and start talking, ears burning red with shame and fear, but when the tears start streaming down his face Taekyung wipes them for him, and somehow Shinwoo knows that they will work it out.

Three months and five days and one fight later, Shinwoo finally breaks.

“You can tell me if you need to be alone.” Taekyung whispers in Shinwoo’s ear as they hug. Taekyung walked Shinwoo home this time, the reversal of roles made Shinwoo feel cherished as if all he needed was someone to take care of him for once. “And you can tell me when you don’t want to be alone.”

“I will.” Shinwoo promises, tightening his hold on Taekyung’s shirt. It’s late and his parents have texted him many times, but he doesn’t want to let go. Ever.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Taekyung pulls back, but Shinwoo doesn’t have time to mourn the loss of heat before his boyfriend is squeezing his cheeks with both hands, smiling fondly. “I love you.” He confesses.

Shinwoo thought he was all out of tears for tonight, but the words make his eyes water again. “Not fair.” He mumbles, sniffing pitifully, chest so full of love he feels like he’s going to explode in a million pieces. Taekyung laughs softly, his own eyes filling up with tears. “I was going to say it first.”

“It was my turn.” He teases, sneaking in a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Shinwoo sniffs, squeezing his hand. When Taekyung turns around, he calls him back. “I love you, too, you know?”

Taekyung laughs, loud and carefree. “I know.”

They are alone in Shinwoo’s room, his parents gone for the weekend. It’s not the first time Taekyung stays over, but the air is heavier now, the tension building up since he closed the door behind them.

He thought about this, Taekyung in his bed, smiling at him teasingly, hands sliding down his back, under his shirt, inside his pants-

“Do you-” Shinwoo forces himself to say, “do you want to eat something? I could-”

Taekyung shakes his head, shy in a way Shinwoo has never seen before. Taekyung likes to tease, he is playful and honest and straight-forward, rarely timid in front of his friends. “Okay.” Taekyung says, looking down at his own hands as if they are the most interesting in the world. Shinwoo sighs.

“Hey,” he kneels in front of his boyfriend, “we don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Taekyung confesses, cheeks a delightful shade of pink. “But I- I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know either.” Shinwoo says. “Never been in a relationship before, remember?”

“Yeah, but-” Taekyung looks up, blushing harder when their eyes meet, “you never - with anyone?”

Shinwoo shakes his head. No one has ever made him feel like this, no one will ever make him feel like this. There is only Taekyung.

“Oh.” Taekyung whispers, shoulders relaxing. “So you don’t know what you’re doing either.”

Shinwoo huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “No.” He reaches out for Taekyung’s hands, but stops before they touch, waits for Taekyung’s permission. When his boyfriend nods, he takes his hands, brings them closer and presses a kiss on each palm. “We can stop any time, you just have to say it.”

Taekyung nods. “You too.”

Shinwoo smiles and stands up, pulling Taekyung with him. “Let’s eat first.”

His boyfriend smiles and follows.

It’s hot and messy and they laugh for a long time when Shinwoo’s first attempt to open Taekyung’s pants fails. Taekyung blushes when Shinwoo kisses his neck, chest and lower, but he doesn’t tell him to stop, only moans softly and then louder when Shinwoo touches him.

When he’s taking out his shirt, Taekyung doesn’t look away, lets out a huff of frustration when Shinwoo slows down, fumbling to open his own pants. “Too slow.” His boyfriend whines, hands touching his chest and trying to pull him closer again. Shinwoo gasps when their bodies touch, skin to skin, as they kiss deeply.

They’ve touched each other before, in Taekyung’s room, but it was rushed and messy because they knew Taekyung’s mother could come home any time. Shinwoo loved listening to Taekyung, watching his face when he’s close, laughing together after they crashed on the bed, holding hands and enjoying each other in the afterglow.

But this is different, it’s new and weird and amazing all at the same time. Shinwoo is gentle, careful in his touches, even when he feels Taekyung’s nails scratching his back, even when his boyfriend asks for more, he tries to make it last.

They will have other opportunities to try different things, to discover what they like and don’t like, but they will never have their first time again.

“Shinwoo.” Taekyung moans when he comes with Shinwoo’s lips on his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin.

“I love you.” Shinwoo whispers when he comes, holding Taekyung tightly and wishing they could stay like this forever.

Taekyung looks like his mom, Shinwoo notices. They have the same eyes, their noses looking a bit similar as well. That does nothing to ease Shinwoo’s nerves though, because her cutting glance is as intimidating as Taekyung’s when he is annoyed.

“Shinwoo,” she says, assessing. When he nods, bowing again, she narrows her eyes at him, “Taekyung’s boyfriend.”

Taekyung visibly squirms from his place next to her, as if he wants to join Shinwoo but doesn’t dare move away from his mother.

“Yes.” Shinwoo nods again, eyes going from Taekyung to his mother and then back to Taekyung. Taekyung’s father is still nowhere to be seen, Shinwoo doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. He doesn’t think he will be able to handle another meeting. “Noh Shinwoo.” He clears his throat. “Nice to meet you.”

“Uh-huh.” She says, calmly, as if this is just another day at the mall and not the most awkward moment of Shinwoo’s life.

“Mom,” Taekyung calls, “stop, he is going to pass out.” Shinwoo touches his ear, he can bet they are as red as a tomato.

“Alright.” She sighs, then opens her arms, smiling brightly and pulls Shinwoo into a hug. “Hello.” She says, voice soft and cheery and Shinwoo really feels like he’s going to pass out.

They had talked about this, Shinwoo wanted to meet Taekyung’s parents, he really did! But it never worked out as they planned, work emergencies, family problems, once Taekyung’s mother burned dinner and they had to cancel because she would not dare ‘serve burned food to my son’s boyfriend’.

So, months passed, close to a year and though Taekyung met Shinwoo’s parents on multiple occasions, Shinwoo ended up never meeting Taekyung’s.

Until today, when Shinwoo is shopping for Taekyung’s birthday. His luck, really.

“Is that for Taekyung’s birthday?” She asks, eyeing the bag Shinwoo has tried to keep hidden from his boyfriend. Taekyung left them alone while he went to the bathroom and Shinwoo has been trying really hard not to run away.

“Uh, yeah.” He looks around, lowers his voice. “It’s a drawing kit, he said he wants to try drawing again.”

“Ah, yes, he told me.” Her eyes soften and she smiles at him again. “You’re a good boyfriend.”

Shinwoo clears his throat, embarrassed. Her smile widens when she notices his red ears. “Ah, thank you. I- I try.”

“I hope Taekyung is a good boyfriend, too.”

“Yes.” Shinwoo rushes to say and his voice comes out louder than he expects. “Yes,” he closes his eyes, counting to five in his mind, “he is.”

“Good.” She says. She’s still smiling, Shinwoo notices, but her eyes are somewhat sad and, with a heavy heart, Shinwoo notices that she’s mourning.

“He- he is great, the greatest person I’ve ever met.” He confesses. Taekyung’s mother blinks, surprised. “It’s- it’s because of you that I got to meet someone so special,” he takes a deep breath, “thank you.”

When Taekyung comes back from the bathroom, he takes a look at his mother’s red eyes, Shinwoo’s red ears and gives them both a curious look. “What?”

“Nothing.” His mother answers, wiping away her tears. “I’m just really happy you found each other.”

+1.

“Why are you crying?” Shinwoo asks as Taekyung sniffs against his chest. “We will still see each other.”

“Not everyday.” Taekyung answers, pulling back and slapping Shinwoo’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t forget me.”

Impossible, he doesn’t say, but Taekyung knows, they’ve talked about this. And it’s not like he isn’t scared either, going to university, meeting new people, learning new things. It is scary. But he trust Taekyung’s feelings, he trusts his own heart.

They will be okay.

“I love you.” He says again, will keep repeating it every day, every year so that Taekyung won’t ever forget or doubt how much he is loved and cherished.

“I love you, too.” Taekyung answers back easily.

#light on me #shinwoo x taekyung #taekyung x shinwoo #my fic #hi hello it me

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lovelytarou · 3 years

Text

kiss me thru the phone — bakugo katsuki

— katsuki always calls you on the phone, making sure that it's his voice you hear when you wake and the one you'll listen to as you fall asleep.

pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

tags: established relationship, swearing? cuz this is bakugo hehe. not proofread!!

genre: fluff, kinda angst

word count: 1.4k

a/n: 1/7 of the 200 follower event, i can just see him doing this lmao. sorry if the header doesn't look good, i tried my best (˘･_･˘) not at me saying i'll upload this yesterday night but it's already 2am here. it is what it is.

bakugo katsuki is a busy man.

even when he was in his UA days, you always see him training by himself and excusing himself early to go study and then eventually, sleep. his friends often tease him for being a grandpa and not having time to go and have fun, but when he met you that's when he really started to let himself free and experience fun things with his friends albeit he's masking it as having “no choice but to join” under the guise of watching over his friends as to not make themselves look like idiots, but you know better. you know that when he says he doesn't care, you understand the meaning that he actually does. and deeply too.

he's just a big tsundere who cares a lot for the people he loves.

now that he's a pro hero working his way up to the top, hectic times and cancelled dates cannot be helped. he has to always excuse himself and apologize over and over for not going to the date you both planned as promised and you always have to say that it's alright, that you understand over and over. and if anyone knew bakugo, it's that he would never settle for less. a simple ‘okay’ isn't enough for him.

so when you woke up one morning to the ringing of your phone and the rare photo of your lover smiling instead of your cacophonous alarm, you knew it had to be one of those days where bakugo was feeling particularly soft for you.

rolling over on his side of the bed, you answered the call with a smile on your face despite him not seeing it. the warm streaks of sunlight coming through the windows illuminated your face, making you shut your eyes for a moment.

“hi, baby.” you croaked, voice scratchy and raspy upon waking.

you heard his chuckle on the other end before he greeted you as well.

“good morning, sleepyhead. it's 10am already, you should be getting your ass out of bed,” he scolded you. you rolled your eyes as you lied on your back, staring up at the ceiling while you twirled a piece of your hair like a lovestruck schoolgirl talking to your crush.

“i know, i know. but the bed's still warm and i wanna stay in bed for a bit.” you whined, even pouting for effect that you knew he wouldn't resist.

you heard him click his tongue in annoyance at your statement. knowing him, he's probably shaking his head in disapproval at your lazy behavior.

“get the fuck out of bed or else your breakfast will get cold. you don't want to eat cold food, do you?"

“wait, you made me breakfast?” you felt your stomach do flips at the thought of bakugo waking up early and even having the time and effort to cook for you.

you heard him scoff at that, “course i did. i know your dumbass will complain about how i didn't cook you anything before i left if i didn't. so eat up, okay? i know i'm not always at home to eat with you and this is the only thing i can do to make you feel that you're not alone. and i'm sorry about that. i promise one of these days, i'll take you out for dinner, alright?”

he can only hear sniffles and soft sobs on the other end as you nodded.

“oi, are you crying?!”

“yes! why the hell are you so sweet? and it's too early for me to be crying like this!” you wailed, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall, trying your best to wipe them away with your night shirt.

“i'd like that very much. you're the best, katsuki. take care and good luck at work!”

“i know i am, babe. take care as well, don't wait up for me tonight, i'll call you.” you both bid your goodbyes with words of love before he hung up to do his hero work and for you to get ready for the day. you ate your breakfast with a smile on your face and heart feeling much fuller than your stomach with the thought of katsuki.

some days, when he's away on a mission, he'd love to call you randomly and he wouldn't even care if you're doing something or if you're busy. what he knows is that he needs to hear your voice more than anything.

on a particularly busy and dreadful day, bakugo had called you during work and you picked it up without second thoughts, worry already clouding your mind.

“tsuki baby!” you greeted in a joyful tone. your smile evaporated when he didn't return the sentiment.

“katsuki? are you okay? what's up, baby?” you tried to make your voice as soothing as possible, knowing that any other unwelcoming approach might set him off.

he sighed on the other end, and you can only guess what happened.

“i'm fine...just...i missed your voice,” his own had a low timbre to it, sort of a deep vulnerable tone he only let you hear when he wanted you to see his true self without the facades and the mask.

“i'm here now, katsuki. do you wanna talk?” being a pro hero can be stressful as much as he loves it. he's also human, and he can only handle as much when faced with a lot of obstacles in life.

“yeah, that'd be nice. tell me about your day, how are you?” he might be diverting the topic towards you instead but you indulged him in his request and started to tell him about your day – from the time you wake up to the time you arrived to work.

“oh! and um, i also bumped into my old friend a while ago. they asked me about you and i told them that we should meet up someday, you know, like a double date?”

“sure, yeah. i'd love to meet them. they seem like a cool person.”

“they are! anyway, what about you? anything happened in there on the mission?” you waited patiently for his response which he appreciated a whole lot than what you realize.

“it was okay. the mission was going smoothly with everyone helping and then...i just, we rescued this man and his...wife got–” he faltered, you heard him choke a sob through the phone and you can only wish you can hold him right at that moment if you weren't only miles away from each other.

“it's okay if you don't wanna continue, tsuki. i understand this is heavy for you. i'm sorry you have to suffer through that alone. i wish i can be there for you,” in your head, you're imagining that you're comforting him and kissing his worries away as he's nuzzling into your neck. and you'd tell him that everything will be alright and that you'll always be there for him.

“i'm sorry...thank you, for staying with me and being in my life. i wouldn't know what i'd do without you, honestly. maybe be the same asshole that i was before we met,” he joked, chuckling at the fond memory that felt like ages ago today.

“no worries, babe. you know i'm always here if you want to talk. i'll listen and you can never talk my ear off because i love listening to you sexy voice.” you teased, knowing it would make him as red as a tomato. the both of you laughed and it felt like you're together, probably at home as you lounged in the living room without worrying about anything.

“whatever. i like hearing your voice too, i guess. anyway, i gotta go in a few minutes. i'm calling again later before you sleep, make sure you don't doze off on me!” you can practically imagine the smoke coming out of his ears as he yelled at his phone.

“yes, yes, i will. i already told you i'm sorry! go kick some villain ass in there, baby. i'll be waiting for you back home.”

“good. goodbye, i miss you. stay safe and always lock your door and the windows! don't stay up too late or i'll swim there to make you sleep myself–”

before he went on a tangent about his usual scoldings you told him that you still had work to do and he can save them for later, but you felt warm inside knowing this is how he tells you he loves you without really saying them. time and distance may keep you away from each other, but your love can travel through great distances and defy all odds.

Taglist: @chibishae34

#sorry for posting late! 🤧#ugH what i wouldn't do to hear his voice through the phone <3 #tarou writes 🌹#tarou at 200 🎉#bnha #bnha fic #💫. bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki

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spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

How I Long for Yesterday • S.B

(Gif not mine) (I’m so sorry)

Request: Nope, just my brain at 3am saying I should write this.

Summary: What do you do when you witness the love of your life die?

Warnings: Major character death, canon death, depression, numbness, grief, mention of blood, panic, crying, please don’t read of you don’t want to relive Sirius’ death

Word Count: 919

A.N: I want to preface this by saying that this isn’t well written. This isn’t some poetic take on Sirius’ death or grief. This is just a written record of my thoughts. I was heavily inspired by Grey’s Anatomy, the whole Izzie thing really shook me up when I watched it years ago, and I thought about it in the context of Sirius’ death. So don’t expect anything great or particularly heart wrenching. This is a short thought that I thought I should post. Let me know what you think. Love you all ❤️

Title: Yesterday - The Beatles

****

You watch your husband die.

You see the spell hit him, how he tenses up and gasps at whatever pain hits his body.

Fingers clench, unclench. The grimace is pronounced.

He steps backwards, teetering quite literally between life and death.

It happens in slow motion.

How he falls back and the grey wispy hands of the arch reach towards him, straining to hold his body tightly. Once one tendril touches his shoulder, you watch him go grey.

You watch the life get sucked out of him as he inches towards the veil silently. Like falling asleep.

You blink, and he’s gone.

You don’t remember screaming until your voice rips always from you, or falling to your knees, nails scratching at the stone until the tips of your fingers are stained red.

Apparently you sobbed, barely taking in enough air to stay conscious.

But somehow you collected yourself enough to cling onto Remus as he Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

You only make it a few steps into the living room before your knees give out and you find yourself laying on the hardwood, face turned to blankly stare at the wall.

Your clothes are still disgusting—blood wiped on your sleeves, your body sweaty from the fight.

But you don’t really register the discomfort enough to care.

You’re able to pick up fragments of conversations. Molly hovers over you and talks to people like you aren’t really there, and maybe you aren’t.

You hear that Remus and Harry aren’t doing too great.

Sirius isn’t either, considering he’s dead.

You feel like you’re in slow motion. Blinking and breathing takes a lot of effort, but when you finally convince yourself to do it, the moonlight shines though the windows instead of the sunshine.

One time, you blink, and Remus’ body is strewn out next to yours.

Talking takes effort as well and you really don’t know what to say. It seems he’s in a similar predicament.

And after listening to heavy footsteps pace above you for quite some time, you find it in you to speak.

“I asked him to run away with me.” You confess, staring blankly at Remus’ face. Both present and in some other void at the same time.

Your voice is cracked and hollowed and something so unlike you.

He continues to lay on his back, face still turned towards you. His beard is bushier, the circles under his eyes darker than usual. Your eyes focus and unfocus on his form.

“I told him that we could just get out of here; leave this whole war behind.” It’s a little above a whisper, the most talking you’ve done in—well, you don’t know how much time has passed.

“I already lost him once.” Your bottom lip trembles, yet no tears come. “I didn’t want to lose him again.” You sound so broken, you notice, the more you talk.

Your friend’s face aches with pity.

“He insisted that we had to stay and see this through. And look where it got us.” You scoff.

The floorboards of Grimmauld Place are cool against your skin, even after all the time you’ve spent just laying there.

Never moving.

Your body is numb, which is probably a good thing, considering your neck has been pressed in the same position for well over an entire day. But you don’t care.

“I have nothing.” You choke out through gritted teeth.

“You’ve got Harry.” Remus finally croaks out, trying to reach out for your hand. “And your friends. We’re all here for you—“

“I don’t care.”

He looks taken aback by your response, yet a fractured glimmer of understanding shines in his eyes. He lost a friend.

“You do care, (Y/n).”

Your eyebrows furrow, some semblance of dull anger coursing through your veins. The feeling of being alive you haven’t felt since that day.

“I don’t, Remus.” It’s guttural, coming from the back of your throat. “I’d trade the entire Wizarding world in a heartbeat to see my husband—my Sirius—alive again.”

“Don’t say that—“

Your fingers twitch against the wood.

“He’s everything to me, Remus. He is worth more than every single life on this planet.” You retort with as much energy you’re able to muster up.

“And he’s gone.” Quickly, you deflate.

“And he’s gone.” Remus repeats absentmindedly.

The silence is deafening once again. Remus is still some barely recognizable smudge in your vision.

“An hour before he was talking about finally being a family again, with Harry. And now...” You swallow harshly, throat aching. “And now his body is somewhere beyond the veil. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Shakily, you inhale, lungs constricting. “Isn’t that the most ridiculous piece of shit you’ve ever heard?”

“(Y/n)...”

“I just want to go back.” Breathing becomes strangled. “I just want to go back to when everything was normal.”

Remus continues to stare at you.

“When Sirius wasn’t dead.”

Your lip still wobbles, your teeth having trouble catching it.

“He couldn’t leave Harry.” You continue, Remus never interrupting. “He couldn’t leave knowing James and Lily’s murderer was still out there, terrorizing our world.”

“He couldn’t be selfish for just one bloody moment.”

When you lazily blink, Remus becomes much clearer in your vision. He’s staring at the ceiling. You vaguely register a lone tear trail down the side of his face.

You blink again and Remus is gone. You don’t know when he left. You don’t care that he left you alone on the floor.

So once again, you’re alone. And you really don’t know how to feel about that.

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @fific7 @quindolyn @msmb @lunalovecroft @justadreamyhufflepuff

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

#Sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black blurb #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #the marauders x reader

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cryoculus · 3 years

Text

oddity - xiao/reader

one of my closest pals is celebrating their birthday, and i took it upon myself to write a little lantern rite piece! i don't usually post my stuff on tumblr, but it wouldn't hurt to try ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pairing: xiao/gn!reader word count: 3,549 words premise: you and him are nothing but outsiders beneath the sea of lanterns — that’s all there is to it. ao3 link here!

“Traveler, what brings you here?”

The wind whistles through the reeds of Dihua Marsh when you hear his voice. The yaksha emerges from the shadows that cloak his form, piercing yellow eyes studying you with rapt attention. Your chest heaves as your sword glimmers out of existence before wiping a sheen of sweat off your brow. A smile graces your face — one that makes him arch an eyebrow.

“Xiao,” you acknowledge him with a nod. “Just clearing out hilichurl camps for a commission.”

“And your friend?” he asks, arms crossed. “The loud one that floats around?”

You immediately think about how quick Paimon ditched your daily commissions just to get a head-start with the festivities down at the harbor. You didn’t particularly mind the fairy’s excitement, but it was a little lonely without her squawks of encouragement as you shilled monster after monster for the sake of scraping up some mora. But the peace of mind offered by Paimon’s absence is something you liked to indulge in every once in a while as well. Instances like this could bring about new experiences.

Such as running into the Vigilant Yaksha himself, for example.

“Paimon’s gotten quite engrossed with the Lantern Rite.” A lone sigh flees from your lips as you your gaze rivets upward. South from here, the lanterns offered to heavens can be still seen — even all the way in Bishui Plain. They dot the sky even brighter than the stars, burning through the darkness of the night so the heroes could find their way home.

Somewhere much nearer is Wangshu Inn, its massive tree rising above the fog that began to roll in come sundown. You aren’t too far from his stronghold, but what reason does Xiao have to crawl out of his seemingly-eternal solitude? Last you’ve seen him was during that whole Starsnatcher fiasco, and you didn’t think you would cross paths again so soon. But the curious glow of his eyes — devoid of the indifference he’s worn like armor — tickles the back of your head.

If you’re able to…could you try to convince Xiao to go with you?

Right. Verr Goldet asked that specific favor the last time Huai’an commissioned you to repair the Inn’s rickety staircase (again). You took her request without a second thought, despite being wholly unsure of how you’re even going to drag an adeptus back to Liyue Harbor. Though the rift between the land’s guardians and its people has long been mended, Xiao’s hostility wouldn’t be so easily quelled. But it’s as if the stars have guided your fates to intertwine tonight — holding each other’s prudent gazes as you both waited for the other to speak.

Xiao is the first to break the silence.

“I see,” he murmurs, resting his back against a sturdy tree. He draws his eyes up for only a moment before meeting yours once more. “Don’t you have a festival to celebrate, Traveler? If my memory serves me right, there’s only a few hours left before they release those pyro flowers into the sky. It’s…a popular spectacle among humans.”

You crane your head slightly, not quite catching his drift. Pyro flowers? A popular spectacle among…

“You mean fireworks?” you snort.

“Yes, whatever those are.” Though his face doesn’t bear any hint of being flustered, the tips of Xiao’s ears turn the lightest tinge of red — barely visible in the lacking light, but you see it regardless. The yaksha mumbles something under his breath before saying, “I assume a lot of people await your return. What are you doing squandering your time here in the marsh, then?”

If Paimon were here, she would have swooped in and taken this as her one and only chance to make good on your unspoken promise to Verr Goldet. Even in the absence of your floating companion, you begin to consider your chances as well. It’s not like you assured the brooding adeptus would be present during the Rite. Just that you’d try to make sure he was there.

And try, you did when you ask, “I was wondering if you’d want to come along, actually.”

You’re more than aware how…forward your invitation just sounded, but it’s not like you minded whatever answer he’s going to give you. In all honesty, it’d be easier if he rejected the offer and went on his way — doing whatever retired adepti do with their thousand years’ worth of free time. But as you steel yourself for his typical, cold-hearted dismissal, Xiao tilts his chin in the direction of the lanterns released en-masse in the south, gaze softening with a tenderness that’s all sorts of foreign to you.

“I suppose I can spare a few hours.”

The lights down the docks seem a little too bright, and the jovial music rings a little too loudly when you’re conscious of an introverted companion. Xiao’s aversion to human interaction is no secret to anyone, but the adeptus manages to play it cool as you wade across a throng of festival-goers. He flinches a little when strangers bump into him, but does nothing to antagonize them. (Although you do hear the slightest hint of a growl when the stranger in question doesn’t apologize for the inconvenience.) Nonetheless, you make sure to hover around close to make sure you don’t lose him in the crowd.

You consider holding his hand for but a sliver of a moment before chucking the idea out of the window. Xiao would probably hurl you into the next world if you touched him unsolicited, and the mere thought sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot Paimon in the midst of it all — wearing one of those peace talismans around her neck as she nibbled on a stick of grilled tiger fish. The fairy perks up at the sight of you, but she nearly gapes when she sees who it is on your trail.

“You managed to drag that loner here?!” she shrieks, but the shock in her voice was thankfully obscured by the loud music. “How much almond tofu did you give him? Paimon bets it takes an army to make enough almond tofu to convince him to go out of hiding!”

“No such coercion happened for them to bring me here,” Xiao clarifies. “I simply want to witness how things have been faring in the harbor since Rex Lapis’ departure. Hmph. Humans still do so much all in the name of traditions that have long lost their meaning.”

Paimon gasps, as if personally offended. “Lost their meaning…? You! You have no idea how important the Lantern Rite is to Liyue Harbor’s citizens, do you? Come on, Traveler!” The fairy huffs, tugging on your arm insistently. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the festival without the immortal party pooper.”

You gulp. “Paimon—”

“Honorary taste-tester, there you are!”

The familiar lilt of Xiangling’s voice pierces through the deafening melodies of the Rite. She bounds towards your little group with a devious smile curled across her lip — eyes shining with enough intent to scare you. Paimon is a bit more oblivious to the young chef’s intentions. Your companion even greets her once she was close enough.

“I have a huge custom order for the Qixing dinner at midnight, and I was wondering if you could try out my stuff!” She hums, spinning Paimon around gleefully enough to make the fairy forget that she was even frustrated with Xiao. Xiangling, however, notices belatedly that the said adeptus is in her company. “Oh, the guy from Wangshu Inn! What brings you here?”

“Nothing that would interest you,” the yaksha grumbles with a clipped tone. “Didn’t you say something about taste-testing for the Qixing?”

“Ah, right! Traveler!” Xiangling turns to you. “Can I borrow Paimon for a while? I’ll make sure my dad doesn’t turn her into emergency food. I promise!”

“Hey!” Paimon protests. “Who’s turning who into emergency food?”

With the slightest nod of your head, however, the chef is already on her merry way — dragging poor Paimon back to Chihu Rock despite her plethora of complaints. You sigh, telling yourself you’d make it up to her after you’ve attended to Xiao. Speaking of which…

“Is there anything you’d like to do?” you ask, eyes darting around for anything worthwhile to show the adeptus. When you spot Ruijin somewhere at the end of the baywalk, your brain clicks in place. “How about you and I play a few rounds of Theater Mechanicus?”

Xiao’s nose wrinkles at the unfamiliar name. “Is that another one of those strange human contraptions?”

“Uh… You can say that.”

You’ve played a couple of rounds with Xingqiu yesterday when the Feiyun heir practically dragged you here after collecting your rewards from the Adventurers’ Guild. So to speak, tower defense games were not your strong suit. At first, dozens of imaginary enemies have slipped past your elemental wards all because of your poor strategizing skill. It’s a good thing that Xingqiu was quick to pick up on the rules, though. He managed to win you both enough peace talismans to make the Xiao Market turn maximum profit.

Your current comrade, however, is probably just as terrible as you are.

“I don’t get this,” Xiao snarls, banging a fist on the wooden table. “Why can’t I just attack the enemies myself when they arrive? The towers are too weak to defend anything.”

Ruijin chuckles, ruffling the yaksha’s hair as if he was a child. “Patience. The more you play, the stronger the mechanici become. Besides, warriors grow to be more powerful the longer they stay on the battlefield. You know that pretty well, right?”

You have to nudge Xiao’s leg from underneath the table to keep him from pouncing at the game master right there. When you manage to catch his gaze, you shoot him a stern look to keep him in check. Deep inside, though, you’re actually panicking. What if he turns the harbor into some anemo wasteland all because of a silly board game? If that happens, Zhongli might just declare you persona non grata even if he was already retired.

Thankfully, Xingqiu’s knowledge about Theater Mechanicus has rubbed off on you enough to win you a round. Ruijin rewards you both with only half the amount of talismans you garnered when teaming up with the Feiyun heir, but Xiao doesn’t really need to know that. He stares at the jade-carved sigils disinterestedly before pocketing them in his garbs, walking away without a word. As your shoulders droop, you sigh and shoot Ruijin an apologetic look before chasing after your charge.

“Sorry if that wasn’t really your type of past time,” you tell him, matching the adeptus’ pace as he marches forward. “We could always try other—”

“If you’re going to play diplomat between myself and the harbor, listen here,” Xiao interrupts, shooting you a yellow-eyed stare. “Neither of us belong in this city. You’re an outlander, and I’m an adeptus — two creatures that aren’t meant to delve too deep into human affairs. And if you have even an ounce of respect left for our respective origins, you won’t tell me off for being needlessly hostile.”

Huh. So he’s aware that he’s being needlessly hostile.

Though he spoke each word with an even-toned seriousness, all you could hear was a boy that didn’t want to be scolded at. You were a bit surprised to see him lose his patience over such a trivial thing earlier, too. Your mouth quivers into a soft smile, marveling at how human Xiao can be despite insisting he was anything but.

“I’m heading up to Mount Tianheng for a while,” he announces once the two of you reach the end of the road. “Are you coming or not?”

You have half the mind to tease him for checking in on you despite the fact that he can pretty much leave you in the dust if he wanted to. Xiao glances at you impatiently when you don’t give him an answer, and you decide to push away any thought of discouraging him for another time.

“Sure. What are you going to—”

Several things happen all at once. Xiao cuts your words short when he dons his mask, clouds of miasma curling around his form in black wisps. He scoops your knees from underneath you, cradling you to his chest faster than you can blink. And you can only gape in disbelief as he princess-carries you across the city — jumping from roof to roof with the grace of a feline. Xiao doesn’t spare you any looks the entire time, keeping his eyes forward as he holds you securely in his grasp. This reminds you a little of the time he saved you from falling to your death when the Jade Chamber collapsed, but you dared not think of it too much.

You resign yourself to the fact that there isn’t much you can do when Xiao is in Bane-of-All-Evil form and observe the way the tattoos on his arm glow with each precise movement instead. In spite of the corrosive energy emanating from the rest of his body, the aura that those blue-green marks emit is…serene. It’s not all that different from the feeling you get whenever you stand near a Statue of the Seven in Mondstadt. Hm. Maybe Venti’s personally keeping an eye on this one.

The yaksha only stops when he’s gotten to a high enough vantage point, setting you back to your feet. You’re just about to thank Xiao for the ride, but you notice the way his knees buckle once his mask dissolves from his face.

You’re quick to rush to his side, supporting his weight with yours as he shoots you a disgruntled look. All those millennia of keeping to himself probably made Xiao unused to your efforts, but you don’t give him enough room to complain.

“You’re hurt,” you observe as you help him down to the grass. “I thought I was just seeing things when we went to the karma-heavy cavern, but that obviously isn’t the case. Does that have anything to do with the Abyss?”

“You think I’d let myself be tainted with that kind of corruption?” Xiao scoffs, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “This miasma…is all my own. This is the price I have paid for eons of endless slaughter — I’ve already told you that, haven’t I?”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Hasn’t anyone told you that you’re too hard on yourself? No wonder Zhongli is still worried about you until now. The medicine he asked me to give — it’s for that…miasma, isn’t it?”

Xiao closes his eyes, sighing. “Traveler, I don’t wish to discuss this.”

“Well, you don’t have to.”

That makes him stare back at you inquisitively. Xiao’s gaze narrows slightly as you lift your hands — palms facing the clueless adeptus before you. Your eyes flutter closed, recalling the way you purified a dragon’s tears all those months ago. This is essentially the same, right? Xiao is a creature who has borne the weight of suffering for countless millennia, much like Dvalin when the Abyss manipulated him into their favor. You managed to purge the murky tintage of their corruption despite the odds being against you.

Who’s to say that easing Xiao’s suffering — even just for a moment — is impossible?

Flecks of starlight dance across the tips of your fingers, glowing in time with the marks of anemo he bears on his arm. Xiao watches you, stunned into silence as he lets you do as you please. He spots a brush of qingxin flowers just a few meters away, but the gentle breeze that wafts across his face makes him feel like he’s not sitting atop Mount Tianheng, but on another peak entirely. When the yaksha closes his eyes, the qingxin blooms have morphed into gentle cecilias, dancing to the rhythm of a lone bard’s lyre.

Peace, he thinks. He hasn’t known peace in a long, long time.

When Xiao opens his eyes again, it’s to the feel of his head resting on top of a plush surface. The moment his mind registers your face staring down at him with a kind smile, he nearly scrambles out of your lap out of reflex, but you keep him securely in place.

“You napped for quite a while there,” you inform him, one hand smoothing down his hair. “Any interesting dreams you want to share?”

He relaxes back onto the grass when he realizes there’s no escaping you. This oddly reminds him of the quieter days of the Archon War, when Guizhong would let him doze on her lap for hours on end.

“I’d like to…apologize,” he whispers.

“For what?”

After a few moments, Xiao sits upright and this time you don’t stop him. Demonic yellow eyes turn to the vastness of harbor before him — reminding him that the war has long ended, and a new era is in bloom.

“When I told your friend that these traditions have lost their meaning… I bear no ill will to the words,” he murmurs, fingers grazing the blades of grass beneath the both of you. The lanterns have grown in number this year, and they’re much more beautiful compared to when he watched them every year from his balcony in Wangshu Inn. “They offer their lanterns, they offer their wishes to lead their heroes back home. But humans have always enjoyed the leisure of being blissfully ignorant.

“Only a handful of adepti have survived to this day. The heroes they sing their praises to have long passed — unable to hear a word of their gratitude. So forgive me if I deem such traditions pointless.” He closes his eyes and thinks of all he’s lost — his fellow yakshas and the gods that have fallen to defend Liyue alongside Rex Lapis. Though he’s convinced himself he’s already desensitized, Xiao still feels the slightest twinge in his chest. “It’s not as if we ever expected recompense for our deeds. We protected what needed protecting because it is our duty. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He expects you to wear the crestfallen look that Verr Goldet always shows him whenever he rejects her invitations to come along to the Lantern Rite. Xiao has been faced with that expression year after year by countless others, and he thinks it would be no different if you look at him the same way, too. But instead of a tight-lipped frown, your mouth twitches into a grin — barely containing your own laughter as the adeptus starts to glare at you.

“Oh no, I didn’t think someone like you would take that so literally,” you say, wiping a tear off your face. “Xiao, listen to me. The Lantern Rite isn’t just for thanking those who protected Liyue; it’s also to honor their memory. Sounds to me like you’re really downplaying how much the people respect the adepti. Isn’t that little truce with Ningguang enough proof of that?”

Xiao stares at you listlessly, and gets the feeling that he’s being made fun of. “I…might have failed to consider it in that light.”

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest as you rest your chin on top. “So Zhongli isn’t the only adeptus who has rocks for brains here.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing! Say, do you want to let me hitch another ride and we can craft some lanterns down at the harbor? My treat.”

He decides to overlook the backhanded insult you just made about himself and his lord. This is an era of peace — everyone jokes about things like that more often now. And though it comes as quite the pain to him, Xiao thinks it was time he learns the way of the people from this era sooner rather than later.

As you scribble your own wishes on the sides of the lantern you crafted, Xiao watches attentively on the sidelines. You told him to write down his own as well, but people like him only wish to serve the purpose he’s been summoned to make. Xiao has already fulfilled that eons ago.

When you both let the lanterns drift up above, the pyro flowers — fireworks, he mentally corrects — bloom across the night sky. They come in dazzling colors that make even him, an adeptus, wonder how human craftsmanship has evolved to this day. Perhaps you were right. Xiao does downplay many a detail about the people of Liyue, and that goes beyond their utter respect for the adepti.

However, the citizens are the last thing on his mind as his yellow eyes continue to observe you — the soft gasp that escapes your lips when the display of fireworks has reached its end; the golden lanterns shining across your eyes as you beam with delight. Xiao doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever thanked anyone — fearful that they’ll react the same way he does when faced with pure gratitude. Would you turn away indifferently? Would you dismiss his sentiments even after quelling the darkness in his heart with a single move? In the end, he decides that none of it matters.

You and him are nothing but outsiders beneath the sea of lanterns — that’s all there is to it.

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao #sfw #omg im posting my writing again #this is the first and last time

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deadpcnned · 3 years

Text

the gamble of the heart | chapter 3 (r.l.)

chapter three: hangovers and cowards

series masterlist

previous chapter

pairing: remus lupin x potter!reader

chapter summary: remus and y/n attempt to talk about their failed relationship

warnings: swearing, hangover??

wordcount: 1.4k

a/n: super short chapter but the next chapter is already done and will be up soon

REMUS WAS met with a dimly lit room as he opened his eyes. He could tell it was daytime by the bits of light peeking in from behind the curtains, but the thick drapes were thankfully blocking most of the light. He was clutching an empty bottle of alcohol against his chest and there was drool sticking to the corner of his mouth. Remus wrapped himself further into his duvet, trying to ignore the nausea adding to his previous misery. He’d have to use some charms to cure the steady ache in his head and drink a shitload of water.

Balancing himself as he stood, Remus was met with an empty room. He was sure he had slept through the boys trying to wake him up, as he had a habit of doing. Even if they hadn’t he really didn’t care. He just needed some food. Trudging down the stairs, Remus hoped that Sirius and James hadn’t planned anything tremendous today. He didn’t have the mind or the heart to deal with their antics, no matter how much he enjoyed them most days.

To his disillusionment, instead of a clear path to breakfast, he ran into a rather gorgeous obstacle. His anger wasn’t enough to blind him from how beautiful Y/N looked, perched up on the sofa reading from a textbook. With a shake of his head, Remus started to head towards the door again.

“We need to talk, Remus,” Y/N’s voice was a mix of stern and concerned and Remus sighed knowing nothing good was going to come of this conversation. Turning around, he walked back towards the couches and took a seat as far away as possible from Y/N.

“Not here,” she motioned to the crowd behind her and began to go back up the stairs. Remus didn’t want to climb up the stairs. Not just because of his massive headache, but because he didn’t want to just listen to her. He had wasted enough of his time doing that.

But people always told him old habits die hard.

Entering Y/N’s dorm, Remus took a seat at what appeared to be Lily’s desk. The tops of ten dead flowers that were carefully taped to the table - that he knew James had given her and she had reluctantly taken - were proof of that. He wondered if Lily would ever hurt James the way he had been hurt. Well, after she finally stopped pretending she didn’t care for the boy. He hoped not. No one deserved this pain, but especially not James.

“What was yesterday about?” Remus slowly brought his head up to look at the Y/N. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, nervously clutching her blanket. He couldn’t count the number of times he had held her on that bed. Or the one night he had snuck into her dorm after a particularly gruesome full moon. He had wanted to remember the details of that night forever when he had left in the morning, but now he wanted anything but that.

Y/N had mumbled an incantation under her breath and suddenly Remus’ head felt a lot lighter.

“You know perfectly well what last night was about,” Remus said simply. There was no point in either of them playing dumb, especially her.

“No, Remus. I don’t. It’s not like you to make a scene like that.” Remus scoffed at the expectations she held for him.

“Yah? Well, it’s not like you to make out with some random in the middle of a crowded room.” Y/N looked at him incredulously, her mouth agape.

“So, what? Are you jealous of Mason?” Was she fucking insane?

“Am I jealous of Mason?” Remus was seething as he spat his words at her. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Y/N. Stop acting so innocent.”

“I’m not acting - Remus, I-” In two swift motions, Remus was standing right in front of Y/N.

“No, you are. You know damn well you’ve let me down. So, at least be brave enough to own it.” Slowly Y/N rose up from her spot, protectively crossing her arms in front of her.

“So that outfit you wore yesterday… At the game. It was what? To get my attention,” Y/N’s accusation invoked a rosey color to inhabit Remus’ cheeks. He had felt embarrassed enough when he had made the decision the day before, but now he was mortified. All he could do was nod.

“You looked utterly stupid.” Remus let out a mirthless chuckle and pursed his lip as he watched her.

“That’s my fucking problem, Y/N. I am so goddamn stupid. I am so stupid that I can’t let go of this notion that you still care about me. That you still have all the feelings we talked about. But I’m even stupider because I would still do anything for you,” Remus’ words were bullets, but every shot aimed at Y/N seemed to be hitting him instead.

“Moony,” He grimaced at the way his nickname left her lips. She looked distraught and he resisted the urge to smooth out the lines on her forehead. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Alright,” Remus took a breath, trying to keep his temper cool. “Start by explaining why? Why’d you start dating Tomlinson?” Y/N’s face flushed as she looked at Remus with an unreadable expression.

“I like him, Remus. That’s why.” Maybe if Remus had really been listening, the words would have broken straight through his bones. Instead, he was ready to ask her the next question on his mind.

“What happened to us?”

It was a simple question. If Y/N had a new boyfriend she should have no problem giving him an answer. So, why was she tearing up? Why did she get to be the one hurting right now?

“Remus, Mason, he just… I don’t know, Remus. I can’t explain it,” Remus was getting sick of her feigning guiltlessness. He was the one that was left alone and empty, she probably had Mason filling her up every night.

“Did you lie in your letter?” He studied her reaction carefully as he spoke his next words. “You said you loved me, what the fuck does that mean?” When Remus had received the letter from Y/N, he had assumed it was going to be just another mundane update since the last time they had talked. Which would have been more than enough for Remus. However, within the last lines of the letter she had casually told Remus she loved him. He wasn’t sure if it had been a mistake, but that day he decided as soon as they were back at Hogwarts he would tell her how he felt. He would make what they had real.

“That I loved you?” Y/N visibly retracted and closed her eyes as she replied.

“Is that what it meant? Because if you fucking loved me, then how the fuck did you find someone new after three weeks?” Remus tasted a salty liquid on his lips and instantly wiped away the tears that were slipping down his face. What made him more angry was that Y/N was just staring, wide eyed. “ANSWER ME, Y/N!”

“Remus, I don’t know. I wish I knew what happened, but I just met Mason and it was like something instant.”

“You’re a liar. There must be a reason that you fell… fell o-out of love with me,” Remus took a harsh breath in, willing his tears away.

“I’m not lying. It had nothing to do with you,” Remus chuckled, choking on his tears. How cliche, he thought. Running his hand through his hair, he spun away from Y/N. It was as if the moon had come two weeks early, because he was unable to control the anger coursing through him. He pounded his fist against Marlene’s bed frame, but made sure to stay as far away from Y/N as possible. No matter what, he couldn’t scare her.

“Remus!” Y/N yelled, running over to inspect his hands. Her hands were cold but she electrified every inch of skin she touched. Sighing, she looked up at him. “Look, Remus. I have no idea how to explain to you what I’m feeling, but you’re just going to have to accept I’m with Mason now. Or - or we can’t be friends.”

“Okay,” Remus nodded his head calmly, carefully moving his hand away from hers and brought them to his side.

“Okay? Thank you, Remus -”

“I guess we just aren’t friends anymore,” Turning around, Remus didn’t bother listening to what bullshit Y/N was spewing. But before he walked out of the room he left her with one last thought, “Coward.”

Remus didn’t react until he was safely in his locked dorm room. And then he broke. Did Y/N have a charm to use for the pain growing in his heart? Because he really needed it.

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

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Paging Healer Malfoy // Chapter Four - Aftermath and Acceptance (D.M.)

A/N: CHAPTER FOUR! I struggled writing this, that’s why it’s so late and so short, I’m really sorry!! However, I do hope you enjoy!

Summary: Draco has something important to ask (Y/N), but will he work up the nerve to ask her?

Warnings: talk of grief and loss, mutual pining, swearing, mentions of food but no descriptive eating scenes, mentions of injuries, brief description of injuries, injured child BUT THERE IS FLUFF.

Word count: 3.7k

Prologue // Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three

Draco wakes to the smell of coffee and toast. He finds himself laid, curled up on his couch with a blanket covering him. He blinks once, twice – his eyes are crusty from the tears shed last night.

With a loaded sigh, Draco sits up, rubbing his face and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. He finds (Y/N) in the kitchen; her back to him as she butters the toast and makes two mugs of instant coffee.

Silently, she pushes Draco’s coffee towards him before taking a sip of her own. She watches him as he drinks; her keen eyes focused over the rim of her mug as she waits for him to break down again.

“I’m okay,” He whispers hoarsely.

Her eyes narrow; she doesn’t believe him, and he thinks that she’s probably right to not believe him. He shifts his gaze from her to the mug in his hands; staring down at the bitter liquid he relies so heavily on, “Really. I’m not going to break down again.”

(Y/N)’s mug clinks delicately as she places it back down on the counter, “Are you sure?”

Draco nods, “I’m sure.”

She sighs through her nose, “I’ve never seen you like that, Draco.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, “Don’t be sorry, I’m just concerned.”

“It won’t happen again; yesterday took me by surprise.”

“I believe you.”

Draco meets her gaze; his blue eyes bright, “Thank you for staying.”

(Y/N) smiles, “You know I’m here for you.”

“I know,” Draco whispers; smiling smally at her.

Cold toast and lukewarm coffee is breakfast for them both; tired eyes crinkling in the corners as shy smiles are shared. Last night changed something between them, and they’re both aware of it. However, neither truly know how to approach it.

Draco finishes his piece of toast before asking, “Where did you sleep last night?”

(Y/N)’s face heats; something Draco hasn’t seen for a while; it took a lot to elicit such a reaction from her. She finishes chewing before replying, “You fell asleep on me. I ended up sleeping underneath you.”

Draco blushes from his neck to his hairline; he opens his mouth to apologise, but (Y/N) beats him to it, “Don’t apologise; I didn’t mind – you make quite the lovely blanket.”

Draco ducks his head; pleased to know that she didn’t mind sleeping with him.

(Y/N)’s eyes glance towards the clock, “Are you on today?”

Draco nods. (Y/N)’s eyes narrow once again, “Are you sure that’s wise?”

He sighs, “What happened last night won’t happen again. I need to work, (Y/N). Life doesn’t just stop.”

She frowns, “You’ll come get me though; if you need someone?”

Draco nods, “I promise.”

(Y/N) smiles, picking up her almost empty coffee cup, “We better head off soon.”

He sighs; he had hoped for more time with her, “Give me ten minutes to get dressed and we can go.”

---------

The break room is empty when they arrive at work meaning that they can pull on their lab coats and share a few minutes of silence before entering the fray, getting safely distracted for the rest of the day.

“Remember your promise,” (Y/N) reminds him, squeezing his hand.

He squeezes back, “I will. Are we meeting for lunch?”

She raises an eyebrow, “Are you buying?”

“I think I can manage that.”

She laughs; letting his hand drop. Draco feels suddenly cold. Her eyes shine with mischief as she answers, “I’ll come find you when I’m free.”

“I look forward to it.”

Draco gives himself a moment after (Y/N) leaves the break; he lets himself have a quiet moment to himself where he takes a few deep breaths and listens to the tinny sound of the now ancient television set in the corner of the room. Closing his eyes, Draco lets the monotonous tone of the muggle news anchor wash over him, calming his mind and his heart.

Readying himself for the pitying looks and the busy emergency room, Draco heads to the admit desk.

Vera greets Draco with a raised eyebrow and a question falling from her tongue, “Was that you and (Y/N) I saw walking in together?”

Draco rolls his eyes, “Yes, just like most shifts we share together.”

“You looked particularly cosy… and I couldn’t help but notice she was in the same clothes as yesterday.”

Draco meets Vera’s eyes, “She stayed over last night. I wasn’t in any place to be alone after what happened.”

Vera’s eyes fill with sympathy and sadness; she wraps Draco in a hug that has him fighting back tears for the pure fact that it reminds him of his mother’s hugs. Vera pats his back twice then letting him go; she wipes her eyes quickly before grabbing a chart from the side, “35 year old female; fainted in Diagon Alley.”

Draco takes the chart from her gratefully, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

--------

He manages to keep himself distracted; he doesn’t overload on patients like he did yesterday, but he takes on a fair few that he knows he can handle with all the experience under his belt.

It keeps his body busy and his mind occupied; he cannot focus on grief if he is trying to figure out the cause of an otherwise healthy female’s loss of consciousness whilst out shopping with her mother-in-law. Draco has his suspicions that it’s down to the overbearing nature of said mother-in-law but at the pleading look in his patient’s eyes, he keeps her in for further observation – if only to give her a break.

He flits about from patient to patient; ordering tests and then handing out prescriptions. It’s days like this, when the load is heavy but manageable, that Draco is reminded of why he became a Healer in the first place. He loves to help people; it’s at the very centre of his being, but for so long, it was hidden by his teenaged cockiness and the insurmountable pressure from his family.

It’s days like these when Draco is reminded if the fact that he is a good Healer; that he is talented at what does and that is because of the Healers that trained him, but also of the staff he works with. Draco knows that he could only get so far without the help and support of those he works with, and it’s on days like this when he is forever grateful for the nurses that kick him up the arse when needs must.

-------

James Shannon approaches Draco as he sits at the admit desk, making the last few chart notes on patients discharged yesterday – something he chose to neglect due to his sour mood. James interrupts Draco’s reading with a cough, “Healer Malfoy?”

“James,” Draco greets, turning to face the trainee, “How can I help?”

James looks almost anxious as he asks, “What happened yesterday… with Violet, does it happen often?”

Draco sighs; expecting the question from at least one of the trainees, “No, it doesn’t happen often.”

James continues to watch him; hoping for a longer explanation. Draco huffs, “Through your career as a Healer, you are going to meet patients who come into the emergency room frequently. Take for example Mrs. Larkin who I’m sure you’ve met already,” At James’ nod, he carries on, “Mrs. Larkin very rarely needs medical treatment, James; she’s a lonely widow who needs company that she doesn’t get from the rest of her family. So we let her sit in an exam room; check her over and yes, over her multiple visits, a friendship develops.”

“Is that what happened with Violet?”

Draco frowns, “I was Violet’s primary physician and the one who diagnosed her kidney failure. When her fiancée was at work, I would sit with her through her dialysis for as long as I could. It was more a friendship of convenience, but a friendship nonetheless”

James nods, “I know that you’re my boss and I’m only a trainee, but I want to tell you this if I may?”

Draco raises an eyebrow; he can’t help but be sceptical as he murmurs, “Okay.”

James sighs, “It wasn’t your fault… what happened to her. Violet’s death wasn’t your fault and I know you feel guilty about it but there was nothing you could do, and I know Healer Thomas would have tried his hardest to bring her back. And I know what it feels like to feel guilt for someone else’s death – I lost my older sister when I was six.”

Guilt pools in Draco’s stomach for a second; it seems that he misjudged James due to the attention he gathered from (Y/N), but also of his status within the wizarding world. Draco berates himself internally; he should have known better; he knows full well what it’s like to be judged before your character is truly known by those around you. Draco looks over the young trainee and it becomes clear to Draco as to why James chose Healing as a profession; he would never be able to save his own sister, but maybe – just maybe, James might be able to save someone else’s.

Draco eventually nods; he stands, patting James on his shoulder, “Thank you, James. I think I needed to hear that.”

A small smile breaks across James’ face; he nods twice, happy to have helped his superior in anyway. He turns away, but pauses at the sound of Draco’s voice, “James?” James turns to face his boss who’s smiling at him, “I think you’re going to be a fine Healer.”

------

“Draco!” (Y/N) shouts; lab coat flying out behind her as she runs to his side.

Hastily, he turns to her. “What? What’s happened?” He asks, his voice laced with worry and concern; mind running through all possible scenarios for the reason as to why she’s shouting his name and running.

She pants slightly, sidling up next to him, “I heard it was paediatric.”

Draco nods; casting his gaze back out across the bay, counting down in his head for when the emergency transport should arrive. “What did they say?” (Y/N) asks; her focus sharpening.

“Six year old girl; bitten by a werewolf.”

(Y/N) lurches back in shock, gloves halfway on her hands, “What?”

Draco nods; confirming, “We get at least one around the full moon, you know that.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Did they say how bad?”

Draco shakes his head, “They couldn’t tell us a lot other than it was bleeding a lot.”

(Y/N) sighs, “We need to keep this quiet, Draco. They’re lobbying a new decree in the ministry this week about lycanthropy.”

Draco doesn’t remove his gaze from the emergency bay; veins already thrumming with adrenaline, “Let’s treat the patient first. We’ll worry about politics later.”

-------

Six year old Ailsa is quiet as she is wheeled into the emergency room. Her eyes are wide as they take in the new environment, and she answers questions with the tiniest of sobs. Her mother follows behind; tears streaming down her face as she recites Ailsa’s allergies and any worries she has.

Ailsa flinches as the wound is cleaned. Draco realises upon examination that the bite isn’t too deep meaning that the chance of transmission has significantly lowered since Ailsa first arrived at St. Mungo’s.

(Y/N) arrives at Draco’s side immediately; the bottle of wolfsbane potion already uncorked and ready to be given to the patient. With a sorrowful smile, Draco says, “Ailsa, I’m going to need you to drink this. Now, it isn’t going to taste very nice, but, I happen to know that if you drink all of this, you can have some of the chocolate milk hidden away in the staff room.”

Ailsa’s nose crinkles. “Do I have to drink all of it?” She asks in a small voice; watching the vapour rise from the potion.

Draco chuckles, holding the potion out for her to drink, “If you want the chocolate milk, I’m afraid you have to.”

Fierce determination settles on Ailsa’s face as she takes the potion from Draco; she would get the promised chocolate milk and enjoy every drop. At her mother’s encouraging smile, Ailsa drinks down the potion, frowning heavily at the taste.

She holds up the empty bottle with a victorious grin, “Finished.”

Draco laughs, “Looks like we owe you chocolate milk, Ailsa.”

Ailsa nods happily; handing the empty bottle back to Draco. He takes a step back, “Good job, Ailsa. I’m going to go make a phone call and I’ll be right back with your chocolate milk. How does that sound?”

She nods once again; distracted by her mother wrapping her up in a hug. Draco smiles at the scene before leaving. (Y/N) follows him, waiting until they’re of earshot of the family before saying, “She’s going to be okay, isn’t she? We both saw the bite.”

Draco shrugs, “Truthfully, I don’t know,” He looks towards trauma one, “I really don’t know.”

(Y/N) sighs, “Well I hope so.”

Leaving (Y/N) to manage her own patients, Draco goes in search for a phone and Ailsa’s chocolate milk; happy to find the one in the break room free.

He rifles around in his wallet for the card handed to him by Harry not so long back; an idea forming in his mind. Balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear, Draco punches in the number, relieved to hear the dial tone. It rings four times before a weary voice answers, “Hello?”

“Hello. Is that Professor Lupin?” Draco asks; mind flickering back to his father’s treatment of the werewolf.

A slow chuckle answers, “I haven’t been a professor in over ten years. Who is this?”

“Draco Malfoy, sir.”

The line falls silent; Draco thinks that he’s hung up which is understandable really. Draco had been surprised when Harry, Ron and Hermione had forgiven him; he wouldn’t be surprised however, if Remus Lupin drops the line.

Minutes pass before Remus speaks up, “Draco Malfoy? I never thought I would hear from you. How did you get my number?”

Draco chuckles; half embarrassed, “Harry gave it to me, sir.”

“You don’t need to call me ‘sir’, Draco. Remus will do just fine.”

“Thank you, Remus. I was calling for your help with a patient.”

“A patient?” Remus asks; shock lacing his voice.

“Yes, I’m an attending in the emergency room at St. Mungo’s now,” Draco answers; unable to help the strong tone of pride in his voice – he would always be proud of his job and all that he has achieved so far through it.

Draco hears the surprised intake of breath by Remus, “That isn’t something I expected to hear.”

Draco shakes his head though Remus can’t see him, “I surprise everyone when they hear about my career choice.”

“Nevertheless,” Remus’ gravelly voice says over the line, “It’s an incredibly noble profession, Draco, and one I can only assume you excel at.”

“Thank you, Remus,” Draco says quietly; overcome by the kindness shown by one he treated so poorly.

“Now, you rang me for a reason. How can I help?”

Draco startles; remembering as to why he was on the phone to his old professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind speaking to a patient and her family. Harry gave me your card not long back and said that you offered advice to families who found themselves struggling with lycanthropy.”

Draco hears another surprised intake of breath, “What happened?”

“A six year old girl was bitten; her mother is worried that she’ll turn.”

“When was she bitten?” Remus asks urgently; voice serious.

Draco checks his chart, “Her mother says this morning; the werewolf broke in and got spooked by her daughter waking up to use the bathroom.”

Remus makes a sad noise on the end of the phone, “So similar to my own attack.”

Sadness washes over Draco; he had known the story of Remus’ bite – there were few in his parent’s social circle who didn’t know considering they all knew the werewolf who had turned him. Remus brings Draco back to the present, “The full moon waned last night; we were at our weakest last night so the bite should amount to nothing.”

Draco grips the receiver tighter in his hands; hope beginning to flicker in his chest, “And you’re sure of that?”

Remus sighs, “I’m not 100%, but we are always most vulnerable as the moon wanes and the bite so rarely takes when we’re weak.”

“What would recommend? I’ve already administered wolfsbane potion which the poor girl didn’t appreciate. I had to promise her chocolate milk to get through it.”

Remus chuckles, “No, I can’t imagine she did. You’ve covered yourselves with the wolfsbane potion; that’s good thinking, Draco. Other than that, it’s a waiting game.”

Draco sighs into the phone, “You’re certain she won’t turn this full moon if the bite has been successful?”

“She won’t turn now. The moon has left its apex; I can feel its strength leaving me as we speak.”

Draco huffs out a breath of relief; he won’t have a child werewolf running around his emergency room then. He has to ask, “What about next month?”

“That’s what we have to wait for.”

Draco nods then remembers that Remus can’t see him, “So I just need to tell the mother that it’s now a waiting game.”

“That’s right. However, if you have a spare wolfsbane potion, give it to the mother. That way, should her child turn, the potion will make her docile and less dangerous.”

Draco makes a note to do so on the girl’s chart. He holds the receiver close to his ear, “Remus, would you mind if I passed on your details to the mother? That way she can ring for advice should anything happen with the next moon.”

Draco can hear the sad smile in Remus’ voice, “Of course you can, Draco. Pass on my well wishes to the family, please.”

“Thank you, Remus. You’ve been a massive help.”

Remus’ voice is gentle as he says, “Anything I can do, Draco.”

Draco hangs up on his ex-professor; feeling hatred towards his younger self for being so naïve to believe his family’s prejudices towards those markedly different to them. Shame washes over him as he thinks of the things he had said about the well-mannered man, knowing he was within hearing distance. Grabbing a bottle of chocolate milk from the fridge, he makes a mental note to send a letter of apology with Harry the next time he was to visit his godson.

With the information from Remus, Draco asks Vera to grab another wolfsbane potion from the potion lock up. As she does that, Draco writes up the prescription and advice for Ailsa’s mother.

Wolfsbane potion in one hand and chocolate milk in the other, Draco returns to trauma one where Ailsa and her mother sit, chatting quietly. From looking at her, you wouldn’t have though that Ailsa had been bitten by anything larger than a small dog. Her attitude towards it had been entirely blasé and Draco couldn’t decide whether it was shock or simply Ailsa’s resilience making an appearance.

Draco smiles reassuring at Ailsa’s mother who stands when she notices Draco entering the room. He hands the chocolate milk to the child; her face lighting up at a promise fulfilled.

“I’m fairly confident that she will not turn into a werewolf. After examination, the wound was quite shallow. The issue is, we cannot be fully certain, so whilst Ailsa may not turn with this full moon – she could with the next. So, here is a wolfsbane potion to be given to her at the start of the week of the full moon. If Ailsa turns, the potion will keep her docile and make her less dangerous. However, I’d also like to give you the contact details of someone who can help should you have any worries.”

Ailsa’s mothers eyes shine with fresh tears as she whispers, “That would be so helpful. Thank you, Healer Malfoy.”

Draco nods; rifling for the small rectangular card in his pocket. “His name is Remus Lupin; he used to teach at Hogwarts, but now helps those come through the moon with as little damage as possible. This is his card, I’ve already rung ahead, he’s expecting your call should you have any worries. He also passes on his well wishes.”

Ailsa’s mother lets her tears fall as she takes the card from Draco. She reads over the fine print for a second before tucking it in her pocket, “And he’s good, you say?”

“He’s the best.”

--------

It takes Draco twelve hours to work up the nerve to ask (Y/N) to dinner. He thought about asking her at his flat, but tensions were high, and should she say no, it would make for an awkward commute to work. He felt there were opportunities all through their shared shift; as he poured their first coffees, at lunch when she kept stealing chips from his plate, as she consulted on a patient for him. He had countless opportunities, but he doesn’t grab at them; he just waits.

At the end of every shift they share, they always head home together, living on the same tube line. Their fingers brush every now and then; sending jolts of electricity through Draco’s veins. It takes every inch of his restraint not to pull her into a kiss as they walk to the tube station; everything about her drives him mad. She’s just finished working a twelve hour shift and yet, she’s as beautiful as she was this morning, sliding him a coffee over his breakfast counter.

Draco realises that he wants to wake to her making coffee for the rest of his life if she’ll have him.

The tube station looms in front of them. It’s now or never, Draco thinks to himself as he looks up to the timetable where it announces its three minutes until the next train.

“Do you want to grab dinner some time?” He asks suddenly, swivelling on the spot to face her, “With me, alone, outside of the hospital,” He adds on for awkward clarification.

“Don’t ask me to dinner because of your grief, Malfoy,” She warns; voice filling with emotion.

Draco shakes his head; a small smile gracing his lips, “It isn’t that. I’m asking you to dinner because I want to date you.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Oh.”

“So… not out of grief, not out of thanks – out of the fact that I like you, a lot, would you like to get dinner with me?”

(Y/N) beams at him; the sight of him leaving him breathless, “Yes, I would like to get dinner with you.”

*******

Paging Healer Malfoy taglist: @sycathorn-slush @obsessedwithrandomthings @kpopgirlbtssvt @kalimagik @brycelahelalover @fallinallinmendes @mischi3f-manag3d @remmysrecs @willowbleedsonpaper @nao-cchi @haphazardhufflepuff @soundsquid27 @mytreec @maydillydally @chaoticgirl04 @pregnant-piggy @rhyxn @acciotwinz @birdie-writes @reaganwonders @chanelwonders @izzytheninja @ravenclawbitch426 @ohissandhalasta @missmulti @nebulablakemurphy @pointlesscoconut @cherrylita @harpersmariano @slytherinlovesgryffindor @falconfeather23435 @namoreno

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @sophia-gwendolyn @ravenclawbitch426

**if your username is in bold, I was unable to tag you.

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